Actus Primus.
Scena Prima.
Enter King Frederick, Sorano, Valerio, Camillo, Cleanthes, Menallo, and Attendants.
Sor.
WILL your Grace speak?
Fre.
Let me alone, Sorano,
Although my thoughts seem sad, they are welcome to me.
Sor.
You know I am private as your secret wishes,
Ready to fling my soul upon your service,
E're your command be on't.
Fre.
Bid those depart.
Sor.
You must retire my Lords.
Cam.
What new design is hammering in his head now?
Cle.
Let's pray heartily
None of our heads meet with it, my Wife's old,
That's all my comfort.
Men.
Mine's ugly, that I am sure on,
And I think honest too, 'twould make me start else.
Cam.
Mine's troubled in the Country with a Feaver,
And some few infirmities else; he looks again,
Come let's retire, certain 'tis some she-business,
This new Lord is imployed.
Val.
I'le not be far off, because I doubt the cause. Ex.
Fre.
Are they all gone?
Sor.
All but your faithful Servant.
Fre.
I would tell thee,