PAGE. My lord.
LOR. Whats he?
MES. I haue a letter to your lordship.
LOR. From whence?
MES. From Pedringanos that's imprisoned.
LOR. So he is in prison then?
MES. I, my good lord.
LOR. What would he with vs?
[Reads the letter.]
He writes vs heere
To stand good l[ord] and help him in distres.
Tell him I haue his letters, know his minde;
And what we may, let him assure him of.
Fellow, be gone; my boy shall follow thee.
Exit MES[SENGER].
[Aside] This works like waxe! Yet once more try thy wits. --
Boy, goe conuay this purse to Pedringano, --
Thou knowest the prison, -- closely giue it him,
And be aduisde that none here there-about.
Bid him be merry still, but secret;
And, though the marshall sessions be to-day,
Bid him not doubt of his deliuerie.
Tell him his pardon is already signde,
And thereon bid him boldely be resolued;
For, were he ready to be turned off, --
As tis my will the vttermost be tride, --
Thou with his pardon shalt attend him still.
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