Reignald. But what am I the nearer, were all these Conveyed to sundry places and unseen? The stain of our disorders still remains, Of which the house will witness, and the old man Must find it when he enters; and for these [_Re-enter_ Young Lionel _and others_.] I am here left to answer.--What, is he gone? Young Lionel. But whither? But into the selfsame house That harbours him; my father’s, where we all Attend from him surprisal. Reignald. I will make That prison of your fears your sanctuary; Go, get you in together. Young Lionel. To this house? Reignald. Your father’s, with your sweetheart, these and all; Nay, no more words, but do it. Blanda. That were to Betray us to his fury. Reignald. I have’t here To bail you hence at pleasure; and in the interim I’ll make this supposed gaol, to you as safe From the injured old man’s just-incensèd spleen, As were you now together i’ the Low-Countries, Virginia, or i’ the Indies. Blanda. Present fear Bids us to yield unto the faint belief Of the least hopèd safety. Reignald. Will you in? All. By thee we will be counselled. Reignald. Shut them fast. Young Lionel. And thou and I to leave them? Reignald. No such thing; For you shall bear your sweetheart company, And help to cheer the rest. Young Lionel. And so thou meanest to escape alone? Reignald. Rather without, I’ll stand a champion for you all within. Will you be swayed? One thing in any case I must advise: the gates bolted and locked, See that ’mongst you no living voice be heard; No, not so much as but a dog to howl, Or cat to mew--all silence, that I charge; As if this were a mere forsaken house, And none did there inhabit. Young Lionel. Nothing else? Reignald. And, though the old man thunder at the gates As if he meant to ruin what he had reared, None on their lives to answer. Young Lionel. ’Tis my charge: Remains there nothing else? Reignald. Only the key; For I must play the gaoler for your durance,[3.23] To be the Mercury in your release. Young Lionel. Me, and my hope, I in this key deliver To thy safe trust.