AMBASS. That is perform'd already, my good lord. KING. Amongst the rest of what you have in charge, The prince's ransom must not be forgot: That's none of mine, but his that took him prisoner,-- And well his forwardness deserves reward: It was Horatio, our knight-marshall's son. AMBASS. Between us there's a price already pitch'd, And shall be sentwith all convenient speed. KING. Then once again farewell, my lord! AMBASS. Farwell, my lord of Castile, and the rest! Exit. KING. Now, brother, you must make some little pains To win fair Bel-imperia from her will; Young virgins must be ruled by their friends. The prince is amiable, and loves her well; If she neglect him and forgo his love, She both will wrong her own estate and ours. Therefore, whiles I do entertain the prince With greatest pleasure that our court affords, Endeavor you to win your daughter's thought. If she give back, all this will come to naught. Exeunt. [ACT II. SCENE 4.] [HORATIO's garden.] Enter HORATIO, BEL-IMPERIA, and PEDRINGANO. HOR. Now that the night begins with sable wings To over-cloud the brightness of the sun, And that in darkness pleasures may be done, Come, Bel-imperia, let us to the bower, And there is safety pass a pleasant hour. BEL. I follow thee, my love, and will not back, Although my fainting heart controls my soul. HOR. Why, make you doubt of Pedringano's faith? BEL. No; he is as trusty as my second self. Go, Pedringano, watch without the gate, And let us know if any make approach. PED. [aside] Instead of watching, I'll deserve more gold By fetching Don Lorenzo to this match. Exit PEDRINGANO. HOR. What means my love? BEL. I know not what, myself; And yet my heart foretells me some mischance. HOR. Sweet, say not so; fair Fortune is our friend, And heav'ns have shut up day to pleasure us. The stars, thou see'st, hold back their twinkling shine And Luna hides herself to pleasure us. BEL. Thou hast prevail'd! I'll conquer my misdoubt, And in thy love and counsel drown my fear. I fear no more; love now is all my thoughts! Why sit we not? for pleasure asketh ease. HOR. The more thou sitt'st within these leafy bowers, The more will Flora deck it with her flowers. BEL. Aye; but, if Flora spy Horatio here, Her jealous eye will think I sit too near. HOR. Hark, madame, how the birds record by night, For joy that Bel-imperia sits in sight! BEL. No; Cupid counterfeits the nightingale, To frame sweet music to Horatio's tale. HOR. If Cupid sing, then Venus is not far,-- Aye, thou art Venus, or some fairer star! BEL. If I be Venus, thou must needs be Mars; And where Mars reigneth, there must needs be wars.