_Bes_.
Not care how I do? Let a man out of the mightiness of his spirit,
fructifie Foreign Countries with his blood for the good of his
own, and thus he shall be answered: Why I may live to relieve
with spear and shield, such a Lady as you distressed.
_Pan_.
Why, I will care, I'me glad that thou art well, I prethee is he
so?
_Gob_.
The King is well and will be here to morrow.
_Pan_.
My prayer is heard, now will I open mine.
_Gob_.
_Bacurius_, I must ease you of your charge:
Madam, the wonted mercy of the King,
That overtakes your faults, has met with this,
And struck it out, he has forgiven you freely,
Your own will is your law, be where you please.
_ Ara_.