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Section 641
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Ar.
Confin'd together
In the same fashion, as you gaue in charge,
Iust as you left them; all prisoners Sir
In the Line‑groue which
weather‑fends your Cell,
They cannot boudge till your release: The King,
His Brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,
And the remainder mourning ouer them,
Brim full of sorrow, and dismay: but chiefly
Him that you term'd Sir, the good old Lord Gonzallo,
His teares runs downe his beard like winters drops
From eaues of reeds: your charm so strongly works 'em
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.