have a Sursingle,
And Male you like a Hawke.

[_He stirs_.

_Phi_. Away, away, there is no danger in him:
Alas he had rather sleep to shake his fit off.
Look you friends, how gently he leads, upon my word
He's tame enough, he need[s] no further watching.
Good my friends go to your houses and
by me have your pardons, and my love,
And know there shall be nothing in my power
You may deserve, but you shall have your wishes.
To give you more thanks were to flatter you,
Continue still your love, and for an earnest
Drink this.
_All_. Long maist thou live brave Prince, brave Prince,
brave Prince.

[_Exeunt_ Phi. _and_ Pha.

_Cap_. Thou art the King of Courtesie:
Fall off again my sweet youths, come and every man
Trace to his house again, and hang his pewter up, then to
The Tavern and bring your wives in Muffes: we will have
Musick and the red grape shall make us
dance, and rise Boys.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ King, Are. Gal. Meg. Cle. Dion, Thra. Bellario, _and Attendants_.

_King_. Is it appeas'd?

_Di_. Sir, all is quiet as this dead of night,
As peaceable as sleep, my Lord _Philaster_
Brings on the Prince himself.

_King_. Kind Gentlemen!
I will not break the least word I have given
In promise to him, I have heap'd a world
Of grief upon his head, which yet I hope
To wash away.

_Enter_ Philaster _and_ Pharamond.

_Cle_. My Lord is come.

_King_. My Son!
Blest be the time that I have leave to call
Such vertue mine; now thou art in mine arms,
Me thinks I have a salve unto my breast
For all the stings that dwell there, streams of grief
That I have wrought thee, and as much of joy
That I repent it, issue from mine eyes:
Let them appease thee, take thy right; take her,
She is thy right too, and forget to urge
My vexed so