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,