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At the confessional?

So I believe; I meet him in the chapel.

I am right glad of this. We marvell'd much— He did not sooner think of ghostly comfort.

I have been summon'd by him once before; But when I came, capricious in his sorrow, He would not see me.

Speak comfort to him, and enjoin some penance For the indulgence of such frantic grief, So wayward, so excessive. May God bless thee! [Exit. Here comes our keen and fiery secretary.

Return'd so soon! And hath the royal ear Inclin'd to thy petition?

Ay; every cot and castle in th' realm At my command must open gate and hold, Chamber and bower; even the sepulchral vault, Whose sable scutcheon'd door hath not for years Upon its hinges jarr'd, must be unlock'd,