_Fal_. To know the certaintie! of whom, of what?
Whome, whether, when, or whereabout, I praie,
Have you dispatcht a frustrate messenger?--
By heaven, and earth, my heart misgiveth[36] me,
They will prevent my cunning pollicie. [_To the people_.
Why speake you not? what winged Pegasus
Is posted for your satisfaction?

_Sos_. Me thinkes my speach reveales a hidden feare,
And that feare telles me that the childe is dead.

_Fall_. By sweete _S. Andrew_ and my fathers soule,
I thinke the peevish boy be too too well
But speake, who was your passions harbinger?

_Sos_. One that did kindle my misdoubting thoughts,
With the large flame of his timiddity.

_Fall_. Oh then I know the tinder of your feare.
Was young _Allenso_ your white[37] honnie sonne.
Confusion light upon his timerous head,
For broching this large streame of fearefulnesse!
And all the plagues that damned furies feele
For their forepassed bold iniquities,
Afflict you both for thus preventing me!

_Sos_. Preventing you! of what? _Fallerio_, speake,
For if you doe not my poore hart will breake.