whereon thou tookst thine oath Shall be the worker of thy tragedie. PED. What I haue saide is true, and shall, for me, Be still conceald from Bel-imperia. Besides, your Honors liberalitie Deserues my duteous seruice euen till death. LOR. Let this be all that thou shall doe for me:     Be watchfull when and where these louers meete, And giue me notice in some secret sort. PED. I will, my lord. LOR. Then thou shalt finde that I am liberall. Thou knowest that I can more aduance thy state Then she:  be therefore wise and faile me not. Goe and attend her as thy custome is, Least absence make her think thou doost amisse. Exit PEDRINGANO. Why, so, Tam armis quam ingenio:     Where wordes preuaile not, violence preuailes. But golde doth more than either of them both. How likes Prince Balthazar this strategeme? BAL. Both well and ill; it makes me glad and sad:     Glad, that I know the hinderer of my loue; Sad, that I fear she hates me whome I loue; Glad, that I know on whome to be reueng'd; Sad, that sheele flie me if I take reuenge. Yet must I take reuenge or dye my-selfe; For loue resisted growes impatient. I think Horatio be my destind plague:     First, in his hand he brandished a sword, And with that sword he fiercely waged warre, And in that warre he gaue me dangerous wounds, And by those wounds he forced me to yeeld, And by my yeelding I became his slaue; Now, in his mouth he carries pleasing words, Which pleasing wordes doe harbour sweet conceits, Which sweet conceits are lim'd with slie deceits, Which slie deceits smooth Bel-imperias eares, And through her eares diue downe into her hart, And in her hart set him, where I should stand. Thus hath he tane my body by force, And now by sleight would captiuate my soule; But in his fall Ile tempt the Destinies, And either loose my life or winne my loue. LOR. Lets goe, my lord;  [our] staying staies reuenge. Doe but follow me, and gaine your loue;     Her fauour must be wonne by his remooue. Exeunt. 

  

       [ACT II. SCENE 2.]     

       [The Duke's Castle]     

                 Enter HORATIO and BEL-IMPERIA. HOR. Now, madame, since by fauour of your love Our hidden smoke is turnd to open flame, And that with lookes and words we feed our thought,—     Two chiefe contents where more cannot be had,—     Thus in the midst of loues faire blandeshments Why shew you signe of inward languishments?                  

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