| Lor. | But, sirrah, let the hour be eight o'clock: | |
| | Bid him not fail. | |
| Page. | I fly, my lord. | [Exit. |
| Lor. | Now to confirm the complot thou hast cast | 100 |
| | Of all these practices, I'll spread the watch, | |
| | Upon precise commandment from the king, | |
| | Strongly to guard the place where Pedringano | |
| | This night shall murder hapless Serberine. | |
| | Thus must we work that will avoid distrust; | |
| | Thus must we practise to prevent mishap, | |
| | And thus one ill another must expulse. | |
| | This sly enquiry of Hieronimo | |
| | For Bellimperia breeds suspicion, | |
| | And this suspicion bodes a further ill. | 110 |
| | As for myself, I know my secret fault, | |
| | And so do they; but I have dealt for them: | |
| | They that for coin their souls endangerèd, | |
| | To save my life, for coin shall venture theirs; | |
| | And better it's that base companions die, | |
| | Than by their life to hazard our good haps. | |
| | Nor shall they live, for me to fear their faith: | |
| | I'll trust myself, myself shall be my friend; | |
| | For die they shall, slaves are ordain'd to no other | |
| | end. | [Exit. |