Nor in this heart will I conceal a deed
Of such impiety against my king.
Madam, how now?

[Enter Harpoole and the rest.]

LADY COBHAM.
You are welcome home, my Lord.
Why seem ye so disquiet in your looks?
What hath befallen you that disquiets your mind?

LADY POWIS.
Bad news, I am afraid, touching my husband.

COBHAM.
Madam, not so: there is your husband's pardon.
Long may ye live, each joy unto the other.

POWIS.
So great a kindness as i know not how
To make reply; my sense is quite confounded.

COBHAM.
Let that alone: and madam, stay me not,
For I must back unto the court again
With all the speed I can. Harpoole, my horse.

LADY COBHAM.
So soon, my Lord? what, will you ride all night?