_Iag._ A greater cause of griefe was neuer knowne, Not onely in his death, but for the losse Of Prince _Lorenzo_ too, his yonger brother, Who hath beene missing almost eighteene moneths, And none can tell whether aliue or dead. _Nic._ How do’s the King beare these afflictions? _Enter another Lord._ _Iag._ Now you shall heare how fares his Maiestie. _Lord._ Oh my good Lords, our sorrowes still increase, A greater tide of woe is to be fear’d, The Kings decay, with griefe for his two sonnes. _Iag._ The gods forbid, let’s in and comfort him. _3. Lord._ Alas, his sorrow’s such He will not suffer vs to speake to him; But turnes away in rage, and seemes to tread The pace of one (if liuing) liuing dead. _Iag._ See where he comes, Lords, let vs all attend, _Enter_ King _in black, reading_. Vntill his grace be pleas’d to speake to vs. _Dead March._ _Attic._ Death is the ease of paine, and end of sorrow, How can that be? Death gaue my sorrowes life, For by his death my paine and griefe begun, And in beginning, neuer will haue end: for though I die, My losse will liue in future memorie, I and (perhaps) will be lamented too, And registred by some, when all shall heare _Sicilia_ had two sonnes, yet had no heire. Ha! What are you? Who dares presume to interrupt vs thus? What meanes this sorrow? Wherefore are these signes? Or vnto whom are these obseruances? _Nic._ Vnto our King. _3. Lords._ To you my Soueraigne. _Iag._ Your Subiects all lament to see you sad. _Attic._ You all are Traytors then, and by my life I will account you so: Can you not be content with State and rule, But you must come to take away my Crowne? For solitude is sorrowes chiefest Crowne. Griefe hath resign’d ouer his right to mee, And I am King of all woes Monarchie. You powers that grant Regeneration, What meant you first to giue him vitall breath? And make large Kingdomes proud of such a Prince As my _Lusyppus_ was, so good, so vertuous: Then, in his prime of yeares, To take him from mee by vntimely death? Oh! had my spirit wings, I would ascend And fetch his soule againe from—— Oh my sad sorrowes! Whither am I driuen? Into what maze of errors will you lead mee? This Monster (Griefe) hath so distracted mee, I had almost forgot mortalitie. _Iag._ Deare Lord haue patience, though the heauens are pleas’d To punish Princes for their Subiects faults, In taking from vs such a hopefull Prince, No doubt they will restore your yonger sonne, Who cannot be but stay’d, and will, I hope Be quickly heard of, to recall your ioyes.