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Tumult, disgrace, and ruin have their way! I'll search for him no more.

Port. He hath been absent all the night, my lord.

Ros. I know he hath.

2d Off.And yet 'tis possible He may have enter'd by the secret door; And now, perhaps, in deepest sleep entranc'd, Is dead to ev'ry sound.

Bas. The blue air of the morning pinches keenly. Beneath her window all the chilly night I felt it not. Ah! night has been my day, And the pale lamp which from her chamber gleam'd, Has to the breeze a warmer temper lent Than the red burning east.

Ros. Himself! himself! He's here, he's here! O! Basil, What fiend at such a time could lead thee forth?

Bas. What is the matter which disturbs you thus?

Ros. Matter that would a wiser man disturb. Treason's abroad, thy men have mutinied.

Bas. It is not so; thy wits have mutinied, And left their sober station in thy brain.