stand. Enter the WATCH. I WATCH. I wonder much to what intent it is That we are thus expresly chargd to watch. II WATCH. This by commandement in the kings own name. III WATCH. But we were neuer wont to watch and ward So neere the duke his brothers house before. II WATCH. Content your-selfe, stand close, theres somewhat int. Enter SERBERINE. SER. [aside]  Heere, Serberine, attend and stay thy pace; For heere did Don Lorenzos page appoint That thou by his command shouldst meet with him. How fit a place, if one were so disposde, Me thinks this corner is to close with one. PED. [aside]  Heere comes the bird that I must ceaze vpon; Now, Pedringano, or neuer play the man! SER.  [aside]  I wonder that his lordship staies so long, Or wherefore should he send for me so late. PED. For this, Serberine; and thou shalt ha'te! Shootes the dagge. So, there he lyes; my promise is performde. The WATCH. I WATCH. Harke, gentlemen, this is a pistol shot! II WATCH. And heeres one slaine; stay the murderer! PED. Now, by the sorrowes of the soules in hell, He striues with the WATCH. Who first laies hands on me, Ile be his priest! III WATCH. Sirra, confesse, and therein play the priest. Why hast thou thus vnkindely kild the man? PED. Why, because he walkt abroad so late. III WATCH. Come sir, you had bene better kept your bed Then haue committed this misdeed so late. II WATCH. Come to the marshalls with the murderer! I WATCH. On to Hieronimos! helpe me heere To bring the murdred body with vs too. PED. Hieronimo? Carry me before whom you will; What ere he be, Ile answere him and you. And doe your worst, for I defie you all! Exeunt. 

  

       [ACT III. SCENE 4.]     

                 [The DUKE's castle]                  Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR. BAL. How now, my lord? what makes you rise so soone? LOR. Feare of preuenting our mishaps too late. BAL. What mischiefe is it that we not mistrust? LOR. Our greatest ils we least mistrust, my lord, And [unexpected] harmes do hurt vs most. BAL. Why, tell me, Don Lorenz,—tell me, man, If ought concernes our honor and your owne! LOR. Nor you nor me, my lord, but both in one; But I suspect—and the presumptions great—     That by those base confederates in our fault Touching the death of Don Horatio We are all betraide to olde Hieronimo. BAL. Betraide, Lorenzo? tush! it cannot be. LOR. A guiltie conscience 

 Prev. P 29/58 next