Char. In hearing this, you make me young again,
And Heaven, it seems, favouring this good change in you
In setting of a period to our dangers
Gives us fair hopes to find that here in Lisbon
Which hitherto in vain we long have sought for. 
I have receiv’d assur’d intelligence,
Such strangers have been seen here:  and though yet
I cannot learn their fortunes, nor the place
Of their abode, I have a Soul presages
A fortunate event here.

Clo. There have pass’d
A mutual enterchange of courtesies
Between me, and the Governour; therefore boldly
We may presume of him, and of his power
If we finde cause to use them, otherwise
I would not be known here, and these disguises
Will keep us from discovery.

Enter Manuel, Doctor, Arnoldo, Guard.

Char. What are these?

Clo. The Governour:  with him my Rival, bound.

Char. For certain ’tis Arnoldo.

Clo. Let’s attend What the success will be.

Mar. Is’t possible There should be hope of his recovery, His wounds so many and so deadly?

Doct. So they appear’d at first, but the blood stop’d, His trance forsook him, and on better search We found they were not mortal.

Man. Use all care
To perfect this unhop’d for cure:  that done
Propose your own rewards:  and till you shall
Hear farther from me, for some ends I have,
Conceal it from his Mother.

Doct. Wee’l not fail Sir. [Exit.

Man. You still stand confident on your innocence.

Arn. It is my best and last guard, which I will not Leave, to relye on your uncertain mercy.

Enter Hippolyta, Zabulon, Leopold, Zenocia, 2 Servants.

Hip. Who bad you follow me!  Goe home, and you Sir, As you respect me, goe with her.

Arn. Zenocia!  And in her house a Servant!

Char. ’Tis my Daughter.

Clo. My love?  Contain your joy, observe the sequel. [Zen. passes.

Man. Fye Madam, how undecent ’tis for you,
So far unlike your self to bee seen thus
In th’ open streets? why do you kneel? pray you rise,
I am acquainted with the wrong, and loss
You have sustain’d, and the Delinquent now
Stands ready for his punishment.

Hip. Let it fall, Sir,
On the offender:  he is innocent,
And most unworthy of these bonds he wears,
But I made up of guilt.

Man. What strange turn’s this?

Leo. This was my prisoner once.