Come, madam Bell'-Imperia, this may[194] not be.
[Exeunt.
Enter Lorenzo, Balthazar, and the Page.
Lorenzo
Boy, talk no further. Thus far things go well.
Thou art assured, that thou saw'st him dead?
Page.
Or else, my lord, I live not.
Lorenzo
That's enough.
As for his resolution in his end,
Leave that to him with whom he sojourns now.
Here, take my ring, and give it Christophil,
And bid him let my sister be enlarg'd,
And bring her hither straight.— [Exit Page.[195]
This that I did was for a policy,
To smooth and keep the murder secret,
Which, as a nine-days' wonder, being o'erblown,
My gentle sister will I now enlarge.
Balthazar.