_Leon._ Oh let me never speak, Or with my words let me speak out my life; Thou power abus'd: great Love, whose vengeance now we feel and fear, have mercy on this Land. _Nis._ How does your Grace? _Leon._ Sick, very sick I hope. _Dor._ Gods comfort you. _Hida._ Will not you speak? is this your Royal word? Do not pull perjurie upon your soul. Sir, you are old, and near your punishment; remember. _Leon._ Away base woman. _Hidas._ Then be no more my Father, but a plague, I am bound to pray against: be any sin May force me to despair, and hang my self, Be thy name never more remembred King But in example of a broken faith, And curst even to forgetfulness: May thy Land bring forth such Monsters as thy Daughter is! I am weary of my rage. I pray forgive me, And let me have him, will you Noble Sir? _Leon._ Mercy, mercy heaven: Thou heir of all dishonor, shamest thou not to draw This little moisture left for life, thus rudely from me? Carry that slave to death. _Zoy._ For heavens sake Sir, it is no fault of mine, That she will love me. _Leon._ To death with him, I say. _Hida._ Then make haste Tyrant, or I'll be for him: This is the way to Hell. _Leon._ Hold fast, I charge you away with him. _Hida._ Alas old man, Death hath more doors than one, And I will meet him. [_Exit_ Hida. _Leon. Dorialus_, Pray see her in her chamber, And lay a guard about her: The greatest curse the gods lay on our frailties, Is Will and Disobedience in our Issues, Which we beget as well as them to plague us, With our fond loves; Beasts you are only blest That have that happy dulness to forget What you have made, your young ones grieve not you They wander where they list, and have their ways Without dishonor to you; and their ends, Fall on 'em without sorrow of their Parents, Or after ill remembrance: Oh this Woman Would I had made my self a Sepulcher, When I made her: Nephew, where is the Prince? Pray God he have not more part of her baseness Than of her bloud about him. Gentlemen: where is he? _Ism._ I know not Sir. H'as his ways by himself, is too wise for my company. _Leon._ I do not like this hiding of himself, From such society as his person: Some of it ye needs must know. _Isme._ I am sure not I: nor have known twice this ten days, which if I were as proud as some of 'em, I should take scurvily, but he is a young man. Let him have [his] swinge, 'twill make him. [Timantus _whispers to the Duke_.