LOR. Then, Pedringano, this is my demaund; Whome loues my sister Bel-imperia? For she reposeth all her trust in thee. Speak, man, and gaine both freendship and reward: I meane, whome loues she in Andreas place? PED. Alas, my lord, since Don Andreas death I haue no credit with her as before, And therefore know not if she loue or no. LOR. Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe, And feare shall force what frendship cannot winne. Thy death shall bury what thy life conceales. Thou dyest for more esteeming her than me! [Draws his sword.] PED. Oh stay, my lord! LOR. Yet speak the truth, and I will guerdon thee And shield thee from what-euer can ensue, And will conceale what-euer proceeds from thee; But, if thou dally once againe, thou diest! PED. If madame Bel-imperia be in loue-- LOR. What, villaine! ifs and ands? PED. Oh stay, my lord! she loues Horatio! BALTHAZAR starts back. LOR. What! Don Horatio, our knight-marshals sonne? PED. Euen him, my lord. LOR. Now say but how knoest thou he is her loue, And thou shalt finde me kinde and liberall. Stand vp, I say, and feareles tell the truth. PED. She sent him letters,--which my-selfe perusde,-- Full-fraught with lines and arguments of loue, Perferring him before Prince Balthazar. LOR. Sweare on this crosse that what thou saiest is true, And that thou wilt conseale what thou hast tolde. PED. I sweare to both, by him that made vs all. LOR. In hope thine oath is true, heeres thy reward. But, if I proue thee periurde and vniust, This very sword 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?