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This that I did was for a policy,
To smooth and keep the murder secret,
Which as a nine days wonder being o'er-blown,
My gentle sister will I now enlarge.
BAL. And time, Lorenzo; for my lord the duke,
You heard, enquired for her yester-night.
LOR. Why! and, my lord, I hope you heard me say
Sufficient reason why she kept away;
But that's all one. My lord, you love her?
BAL. Aye.
LOR. Then in your love beware; deal cunningly;
Salve all suspicions; only soothe me up,
And, if she hap to stand on terms with us,
As for her sweet-heart, and concealment so,
Jest with her gently; under feigned jest
Are things conceal'd that else would breed unrest.
But here she comes.
Enter BEL-IMPERIA.
LOR. Now, sister.
BEL. Sister? No!
Thou art no brother, but an enemy,
Else wouldst thou not have us'd thy sister so:
First, to affright me with thy weapons drawn,
And with extremes abuse my company;
And then to hurry me like whirlwind's rage
Amidst a crew of thy confederates,
And clap me up where none might come at me,
Nor I at any to reveal my wrongs.
What madding fury did possess thy wits?
Or wherein is't that I offended thee?
LOR. Advise you better, Bel-imperia;
For I have done you no disparagement,—
Unless, by more discretion then deserv'd,
I sought to save your honour and mine own.