_Alphon._ [_coming towards_ ALBINIUS]. "Villain," say'st thou? nay, "villain" in thy throat! What, know'st thou, skipjack, whom thou villain call'st? _Albi._ A common vassal I do villain call. _Alphon._ That shalt thou soon approve, persuade thyself, Or else I'll die, or thou shalt die for me. _Albi._ What, do I dream, or do my dazzling eyes Deceive me? Is't Alphonsus that I see? Doth now Medea use her wonted charms For to delude Albinius' fantasy? Or doth black Pluto, king of dark Avern, Seek to flout me with his counterfeit? His body like to Alphonsus' framèd is; His face resembles much Alphonsus' hue; His noble mind declares him for no less; 'Tis he indeed. Woe worth Albinius, Whose babbling tongue hath caus'd his own annoy! Why doth not Jove send from the glittering skies His thunderbolts to chástise this offence? Why doth Dame Terra cease[36] with greedy jaws To swallow up Albinius presently? What, shall I fly and hide my traitorous head, From stout Alphonsus whom I so misus'd? Or shall I yield? Tush, yielding is in vain: Nor can I fly, but he will follow me. Then cast thyself down at his grace's feet, Confess thy fault, and ready make thy breast To entertain thy well-deservèd death. [_Kneels._ _Alphon._ What news, my friend? why are you so blank, That erst before did vaunt it to the skies? _Albi._ Pardon, dear lord! Albinius pardon craves For this offence, which, by the heavens I vow, Unwittingly I did unto your grace; For had I known Alphonsus had been here, Ere that my tongue had spoke so traitorously, This hand should make my very soul to die. _Alphon._ Rise up, my friend, thy pardon soon is got: [ALBINIUS _rises up._ But, prithee, tell me what the cause might be, That in such sort thou erst upbraided'st me? _Albi._ Most mighty prince, since first your father's sire Did yield his ghost unto the Sisters Three, And old Carinus forcèd was to fly His native soil and royal diadem, I, for because I seemèd to complain Against their treason, shortly was forewarn'd Ne'er more to haunt the bounds of Arragon, On pain of death. Then like a man forlorn, I sought about to find some resting-place, And at the length did hap upon this shore, Where showing forth my cruel banishment, By King Belinus I am succourèd. But now, my lord, to answer your demand: It happens so, that the usurping king Of Arragon makes war upon this land For certain tribute which he claimeth here; Wherefore Belinus sent me round about His country for to gather up [his] men For to withstand this most injurious foe; Which being done, returning with the king, Despitefully I did so taunt your grace, Imagining you had some soldier been, The which, for fear, had sneakèd from the camp.