Without respect of honour in the fight?
And heere he comes that murdred my delight.

Enter LORENZO and BALTHAZAR.

LOR. Sister, what meanes this melanchollie walke?

BEL. That for a-while I wish no company.

LOR. But heere the prince is come to visite you.

BEL. That argues that he liues in libertie.

BAL. No madam, but in pleasing seruitude.

BEL. Your prison then, belike, is your conceit.

BAL. I, by conceite my freedome is enthralde.

BEL. Then with conceite enlarge your-selfe againe.

BAL. What if conceite haue laid my hart to gage?

BEL. Pay that you borrowed, and recouer it.

BAL. I die if it returne from whence it lyes.

BEL. A hartles man, and liue? A miracle!

BAL. I, lady, loue can work such miracles.