ALFRED.

Read it on to the end, and you'll know.

JOHN (continues reading).

"When we parted, your last words recorded a vow--
What you will" . . .
Hang it! this smells all over, I swear,
Of adventurers and violets. Was it your hair
You promised a lock of?

ALFRED.

Read on. You'll discern.

JOHN (continues).

"Those letters I ask you, my lord, to return." . . .
Humph! . . . Letters! . . . the matter is worse than I guess'd;
I have my misgivings--

ALFRED.

Well, read out the rest,
And advise.

JOHN.

Eh? . . . Where was I?