PAGE. My lord, Serberine is slain.
BAL. Who? Serberine, my man?
PAGE. Your Highness' man, my lord.
LOR. Speak, page: who murder'd him?
PAGE. He that is apprehended for the fact.
LOR. Who?
PAGE. Pedringano.
BAL. Is Serberine slain, that lov'd his lord so well?
Injurious villain! murd'rer of his friend!
LOR. Hath Pedringano murder'd Serberine?
My lord, let me entreat you to take the pains
To exasperate and hasten his revenge
With your complaints unto my lord the king.
This their dissension breeds a greater doubt.
BAL. Assure thee, Don Lorenzo, he shall die,
Or else his Highness hardly shall deny.
Meanwhile, I'll haste the marshall sessions,
For die he shall for this his damned deed.