A forest
Enter the Old Queen with two babes, as being hard pursued.
[OLD] QUEEN
Oh, whither shall I fly with these poor babes?
Twice set upon by thieves within this forest,
Who robb’d me of my clothes and left me these,
Which better suit with my calamity!
What fate pursues the good old king my husband?
I cannot learn which is my worst affliction.
Oh, treacherous Lapyrus! Impious nephew!
All horrors of a guilty breast keep with thee!
Either, poor babes, you must pine here for food,
Or have the wars drink your immaculate blood.
Cry within, “Follow, follow!”
Oh, fly, lest life and honour be betray’d!
Exit.