Pedringano.
Alas, my lord, since Don Andrea's death,
I have no credit with her as before;
And therefore know not, if she love or no.
Lorenzo.
Nay, if thou dally, then I am thy foe.
[Draws his sword.
And fear shall force what friendship cannot win:
Thy death shall bury what thy life conceals;
Thou dy'st for more esteeming her than me.
Pedringano.
O, stay, my lord.
Lorenzo.