ISA. My soul? poor soul, thou talk'st of things Thou know'st not what! My soul hath silver wings, That mounts me up unto the highest heav'ns-- To heav'n? Aye, there sits my Horatio, Back'd with troop of fiery cherubins Dancing about his newly healed wounds, Singing sweet hymns and chanting heav'nly notes, Rare harmony to greet his innocence, That died, aye, died a mirror in our days! But say, where shall I find the men, the murderers, That slew Horatio? whether shall I run To find them out, that murdered my son? Exeunt. [ACT III. SCENE 9.] [The DUKE's castle.] BEL-IMPERIA at a window. BEL. What means this outrage that is offer'd me? Why am I thus sequester'd from the court? No notice? shall I not know the cause Of these my secret and suspicious ills? Accursed brother! unkind murderer! Why bend'st thou thus thy mind to martyr me? Hieronimo, why writ I of thy wrongs, Or why art thou so slack in thy revenge? Andrea! O Andrea, that thou sawest Me for thy friend Horatio handled thus, And him for me thus causeless murdered! Well, force perforce, I must constrain myself To patience, and apply me to the time, Till Heav'n, as I have hop'd, shall set me free. Enter CHRISTOPHEL. CHRIS. Come, Madame Bel-imperia, this must not be! Exeunt. [ACT III. Scene 10.] [A room in the DUKE's castle.] Enter LORENZO, BALTHAZAR and the PAGE. LOR. Boy, talk no further; thus far things go well. Thou art assur'd that thou sawest him dead? PAGE. Or else, my lord, I live not. LOR. That's enough. As for this resolution at his end, Leave that to him with whom he sojourns now. Here, take my ring, and give it Christophel, And bid him let my sister be enlarg'd, And bring her hither straight. Exit PAGE. This that I did was for a policy, To smooth and keep the murder secret, Which as a nine days wonder being o'er-blown, My gentle sister will I now enlarge. BAL. And time, Lorenzo; for my lord the duke, You heard, enquired for her yester-night. LOR. Why! and, my lord, I hope you heard me say Sufficient reason why she kept away; But that's all one. My lord, you love her? BAL. Aye. LOR. Then in your love beware; deal cunningly; Salve all suspicions; only soothe me up, And, if she hap to stand on terms with us, As for her sweet-heart, and concealment so, Jest with her gently; under feigned jest Are things conceal'd that else would breed unrest. But here she comes. Enter BEL-IMPERIA. LOR. Now, sister.