HOR. What, will you murder me?
LOR. Aye; thus! and thus! these are the fruits of love!
They stab him.
BEL. O, save his life, and let me die for him!
O, save him, brother! save him, Balthazar!
I lov'd Horatio, but he lov'd not me.
BAL. But Balthazar loves Bel-imperia.
LOR. Although his life were still ambitious, proud,
Yet is he at the highest now he is dead.
BEL. Murder! murder! help! Hieronimo, help!
LOR. Come, stop her mouth! away with her!
Exeunt.
Enter HIERONIMO in his shirt, &c.