BEL. Mine honour? Why, Lorenzo, wherein is't
That I neglect my reputation so
As you, or any, need to rescue it?
LOR. His Highness and my father were resolv'd
To come confer with old Hieronimo
Concerning certain matters of estate
That by the viceroy was determined.
BEL. And wherein was mine honour touch'd in that?
BAL. Have patience, Bel-imperia; hear the rest.
LOR. Me, next in sight, as messenger they sent
To give him notice that they were so nigh:
Now, when I came, consorted with the prince,
And unexpected in an arbor there
Found Bel-imperia with Horatio—
BEL. How then?
LOR. Why, then, rememb'ring that old disgrace
Which you for Don Andrea had endur'd,
And now were likely longer to sustain
By being found so meanly accompanied,
Thought rather, for I knew no readier mean,
To thrust Horatio forth my father's way.
BAL. And carry you obscurely somewhere else,
Lest that his Highness should have found you there.
BEL. Ev'n so, my lord? And you are witness
That this is true which he entreateth of?
You, gentle brother, forg'd this for my sake?
And you, my lord, were made his instrument?
A work of worth! worthy the noting too!
But what's the cause that you conceal'd me since?
LOR. Your melancholy, sister, since the news
Of your first favorite Don Andrea's death
My father's old wrath hath exasperate.