187Gon. I smile to think, in what a wofull plight

188Cordella will be, when we answere thus:

189For she will rather dye, then giue consent

190To ioyne in marriage with the Irish King:

191So will our father think, she loueth him not,

192Because she will not graunt to his desire,

193Which we will aggrauate in such bitter termes,

194That he will soone conuert his loue to hate:

195For he, you know, is alwayes in extremes.

196Rag. Not all the world could lay a better plot,

197I long till it be put in practice. Exeunt.

199Leir. Perillus, go seeke my daughters,

200Will them immediately come and speak with me.

201Per. I will, my gracious Lord. Exit.

202Leir. Oh, what a combat feeles my panting heart,

203 'Twixt childrens loue, and care of Common weale!

204How deare my daughters are vnto my soule,

205None knowes, but he, that knowes my thoghts & secret deeds.

206Ah, little do they know the deare regard,

207Wherein I hold their future state to come:

208When they securely sleepe on beds of downe,

209These aged eyes do watch for their behalfe :

210While they like wantons sport in youthfull toyes,

211This throbbing heart is pearst with dire annoyes.

212As doth the Sun excceed the smallest Starre;

213So much the fathers loue exceeds the childs.

214Yet my complaynts are causlesse: for the world

215Affords not children more conformable:

216And yet, me thinks, my mind presageth still

217I know not what; and yet I feare some ill.

219Well, here my daughters come: I haue found out

220A present meanes to rid me of this doubt.

221Gon. Our royall Lord and father, in all duty,

222We come to know the tenour of your will,

223Why you so hastily haue sent for vs ?

224Leir. Deare Gonorill, kind Ragan, sweet Cordella,