Such cruell deedes can never long be hid,
Although we practice nere so cunningly.
Let others open what I doe conceale;
Lo he is my brother, I will cover it,
And rather dye than have it spoken rife,--
Lo where she goes, betrai'd her brothers life.

[_Exit_.



[SCENE II.]


_Enter Williams and Cowley_.

_Co_. Why, how now, _Harry_, what should be the cause,
That you are growne so discontent of late?
Your sighes do shew some inward heavinesse;
Your heavy lookes, your eyes brimfull of teares,
Beares testimonie of some secret griefe.
Reveale it, _Harry_; I will be thy friend,
And helpe thee to my poore habillity.

_Wil_. If I am heavie, if I often sigh,
And if my eyes beare recordes of my woe,
Condemne me not, for I have mightie cause,
More then I will impart to any one.

_Co_. Do you misdoubt me, that you dare not tell