SCENE III.

EPHORBAS _solus_.

EPH. Riddle on[104] riddle! I have dream'd this night Plangus was cloth'd, like innocence, all white; And Andromana then methought was grown So black, nothing but all one guilt was shown. What shall I do? Shall I believe a dream? Which is a vapour borne along the stream Of fancy, and sprung up from the gross fumes Of a full stomach, sent to th' upper rooms O' th' brain by our ill genius, to spoil our sight, And cloud our judgments like a misty night. Why do I doubt? 'tis ominous to stay Demurring, when the way is plain. Is day Or night best to judge colours? shall I stand, Trying the water's soundness, when the land Presents firm footing? Truth by day appears, And I from tapers hope to find my fears Oppos'd. And yet methinks 'tis very strange, A son of mine should suddenly thus change, And throw his nature off; I did not so When I was young. I am resolv'd to know The truth, and clear this mist from 'fore my eyes, If't can be done by care, by gold, or spies.

[_Exit._