BEL. Then ward thyself! I dart this kiss at thee.
HOR. Thus I return the dart thou throwest at me!
BEL. Nay then, to gain the glory of the field,
My twining arms shall yoke and make thee yield.
HOR. Nay then, my arms are large and strong withal:
Thus elms by vines are compass'd till they fall.
BEL. O, let me go, for in my troubled eyes
Now may'st thou read that life in passion dies!
HOR. O, stay a-while, and I will die with thee;
So shalt thou yield, and yet have conquer'd me.
BEL. Who's there? Pedringano? We are betray'd!
Enter LORENZO, BALTHAZAR, SERBERINE,
PEDRINGANO, disguised.
LOR. My lord, away with her! take her aside!
O sir, forbear, your valour is already tried.
Quickly dispatch, my masters.
They hang him in the arbor.