[Exit.

[SCENE 2.]

Enter Alphonso, Hard., Lassing., Leander, Stro.,
Hosherman, Motto, and Raphe.

Alp.  Aye me! what hard extremitie is this?  Nor quick nor dead can I beholde my sonne.

    Enter Hance in the Princes apparrell.

Hance.  Behold your sonne; [your] Blessing, noble father.

Hard.  Malipart knave, art thou the Princes sonne?

Han.  I, sir, apparrell makes the man.

Alp.  Unhappy man, would God I had my sonne, So he had his Hyanthe or my life.

Lea.  Should he enjoy Hyanthe [then], my Lord?  Would you forsake your love, so he did live?

Alp.  My love and life, did my deere sonne survive.

Lea.  But were he found or should he live, my Lord,
Although Hyanthe’s love were the chiefe cause
Of his mishap and amorous lunacie,
I hope your highnesse loves him over well
To let him repossesse his wits with her.

Alp.  My love is dead in sorrow for his death; His life and wits should ransome worlds from me.

Lea.  My Lord, I had a vision this last night
Wherein me thought I sawe the prince your sonne
Sit in my fathers garden with Hyanthe
Under the shadow of the Laurell tree. 
With anger, therefore, you should be so wrongde
I wakt, but then contemned it as a dreame;
Yet since my minde beates on it mightelie,
And though I thinke it vaine, if you vouchsafe,
Ile make a triall of the truthe hereof. [Exit.

Alp.  Do, good Leander.  Hardenbergh, your sonne
Perhaps deludes me with a vision[79]
To mocke my vision that deferde the Dutchesse,
And with Hyanthe closlie keepes my sonne.

Hard.  Your sonne was madde and drownd:  this cannot bee.

Alp.  But yet this circumventing speech [of his] Offered suspition of such event.

Stro.  My lord, most fortunate were that event That would restore your sonne from death to life.

Har.  As though a vision should do such a deed!

Alp.  No, no, the boyes young brain was humorous:  His servant and his Page did see him drown’d.

    Enter Leander, Alberdure, Hyanthe; Alberdure
    seeming fearefull to come forward.

Lea.  Come on, sweet friend; I warrant thee thy love; Shun not thy fathers sight that longs for thee.

Alb.  Go then before, and we will follow straight.

Lea.  Comfort, my Lord, my vision proov’d most true: 
Even in the place, under the Lawrell shade,
I found them sitting just as I beheld them
In my late vision; see, sir, where they come.

Alp.  Am I enchanted or see I my sonne? 
I, I, the boy hath plaide the traytor with me. 
O, you young villaine, trust you with my love! 
How smoothe the cunning treacher lookt on it;