And time, Lorenzo; for my lord the duke,
You heard, inquired for her yester-night.
Lorenzo.
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?
Balthazar.
Ay.
Lorenzo.
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 sweetheart, and concealment so,
Jest with her gently: under feigned jest
Are things conceal'd that else would breed unrest[196]—
But here she comes.
Enter Bell'-Imperia.
Lorenzo.