Why then, remembering that old disgrace,
Which you for Don Andrea had endured,
And now were likely longer to sustain,
By being found so meanly accompanied,
Thought rather, for I knew[199] no readier mean,
To thrust Horatio forth my father's way.
Balthazar.
And carry you obscurely somewhere else,
Lest that his highness should have found you there.
Bell'-Imperia.
Even 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?
Lorenzo.
Your melancholy, sister, since the news
Of your first favourite Don Andrea's death,
My father's old wrath hath exasperate.
Balthazar.
And better was't for you, being in disgrace,
To absent yourself, and give his fury place.
Bell'-Imperia.