(SCENE 3.)

Enter King; Queen, Malateste, Valesco, Lopez.

King. The Presence doore be guarded; let none enter On forfeit of your lives without our knowledge. Oh, you are false physitians all unto me, You bring me poyson but no antidotes.

Queen. Your selfe that poyson brewes.

King. Prethe, no more.

Queen. I will, I must speake more.

King. Thunder aloud.

Queen. My child, yet newly quickened in my wombe, Is blasted with the fires of Bastardy.

King. Who? who dares once but thinke so in his dreame?

Mal. Medina's faction preached it openly.

King. Be curst he and his Faction: oh, how I labour For these preventions! but, so crosse is Fate, My ills are ne're hid from me but their Cures. What's to be done?

Queen. That which being left undone, Your life lyes at the stake: let 'em be breathlesse, Both brat and mother.

King. Ha!

Mal. She playes true Musicke, Sir: The mischiefes you are drench'd in are so full You need not feare to add to 'em; since now No way is left to guard thy rest secure But by a meanes like this.

Lop. All Spaine rings forth Medina's name and his Confederates.

Rod. All his Allyes and friends rush into troopes Like raging Torrents.

Val. And lowd Trumpet forth Your perjuries; seducing the wild people And with rebellious faces threatning all.

King. I shall be massacred in this their spleene E're I have time to guard my selfe; I feele The fire already falling: where's our guard?

Mal. Planted at Garden gate, with a strict charge That none shall enter but by your command.

King. Let 'em be doubled: I am full of thoughts, A thousand wheeles tosse my incertaine feares; There is a storme in my hot boyling braines Which rises without wind; a horrid one. What clamor's that?

Queen. Some treason: guard the King!

Enter Baltazar drawne; one of the Guard fals.

Bal. Not in?

Mal. One of your guard's slaine: keepe off the murderer!

Bal. I am none, Sir.

Val. There's a man drop'd down by thee.

King. Thou desperate fellow, thus presse in upon us! Is murder all the story we shall read? What King can stand when thus his subjects bleed! What hast thou done?

Bal. No hurt.

King. Plaid even the Wolfe And from a fold committed to my charge Stolne and devour'd one of the flocke.

Bal. Y'ave sheepe enow for all that, Sir; I have kill'd none tho; or, if I have, mine owne blood shed in your quarrels may begge my pardon; my businesse was in haste to you.

King. I woo'd not have thy sinne scoar'd on my head For all the Indian Treasury. I prethee tell me, Suppose thou hast our pardon, O, can that cure Thy wounded conscience? can there my pardon helpe thee? Yet, having deserv'd well both of Spaine and us, We will not pay thy worth with losse of life, But banish thee for ever.

Bal. For a Groomes death?

King. No more; we banish thee our Court and kingdome: A King that fosters men so dipt in blood May be call'd mercifull but never good: Begone upon thy life.

Bal. Well: farewell. [Exit.

Val. The fellow is not dead but wounded, Sir.

Queen. After him, Malateste; in our lodging Stay that rough fellow; hee's the man shall doo't: Haste, or my hopes are lost. [Exit Mal. Why are you sad, Sir?

King. For thee, Paullina, swell my troubled thoughts, Like billowes beaten by too (two?) warring winds.

Queen. Be you but rul'd by me, I'le make a calme Smooth as the brest of heaven.

King. Instruct me how.

Queen. You (as your fortunes tye you) are inclin'd To have the blow given.

King. Where's the Instrument?

Queen. 'Tis found in Baltazar.

King. Hee's banished.

Queen. True, But staid by me for this.

King. His spirit is hot And rugged, but so honest that his soule Will ne're turn devill to do it.

Queen. Put it to tryall: Retire a little: hither I'le send for him, Offer repeale and favours if he doe it; But if deny, you have no finger in't, And then his doome of banishment stands good.

King. Be happy in thy workings; I obey. [Exit.

Queen. Stay, Lopez.

Lop. Madam.

Queen. Step to our Lodging, Lopez, And instantly bid Malateste bring The banish'd Baltazar to us.

Lop. I shall. [Exit.

Queen. Thrive my blacke plots; the mischiefes I have set Must not so dye; Ills must new Ills beget.

Enter Malateste and Baltazar.

Bal. Now! what hot poyson'd Custard must I put my Spoone into now?

Queen. None, for mine honour now is thy protection.

Mal. Which, Noble Souldier, she will pawn for thee But never forfeit.

Bal. 'Tis a faire gage; keepe it.

Queen. Oh, Baltazar, I am thy friend, and mark'd thee When the King sentenc'd thee to banishment: Fire sparkled from thine eyes of rage and griefe; Rage to be doom'd so for a Groome so base, And griefe to lose thy country. Thou hast kill'd none: The Milke-sop is but wounded, thou art not banish'd.

Bal. If I were I lose nothing; I can make any Countrey mine. I have a private Coat for Italian Steeletto's, I can be treacherous with the Wallowne, drunke with the Dutch, a Chimney-sweeper with the Irish, a Gentleman with the Welsh[202] and turne arrant theefe with the English: what then is my Country to me?

Queen. The King, who (rap'd with fury) banish'd thee, Shall give thee favours, yeeld but to destroy What him distempers.

Bal. So; and what's the dish I must dresse?

Queen. Onely the cutting off a paire of lives.

Bal. I love no Red-wine healths.

Mal. The King commands it; you are but Executioner.

Bal. The Hang-man? An office that will hold as long as hempe lasts: why doe not you begge the office, Sir?

Queen. Thy victories in field shall never crowne thee As this one Act shall.

Bal. Prove but that, 'tis done.

Queen. Follow him close; hee's yeelding.

Mal. Thou shalt be call'd thy Countries Patriot For quenching out a fire now newly kindling In factious bosomes; and shalt thereby save More Noble Spanyards lives than thou slew'st Moores.

Queen. Art thou not yet converted?

Bal. No point.

Queen. Read me then: Medina's Neece, by a contract from the King, Layes clayme to all that's mine, my Crowne, my bed; A sonne she has by him must fill the Throne If her great faction can but worke that wonder. Now heare me—

Bal. I doe with gaping eares.

Queen. I swell with hopefull issue to the King.

Bal. A brave Don call you mother.

Mal. Of this danger The feare afflicts the King.

Bal. Cannot much blame him.

Queen. If therefore by the riddance of this Dame—

Bal. Riddance? oh! the meaning on't is murder.

Mal. Stab her or so, that's all.

Queen. That Spaine be free from frights, the King from feares, And I, now held his Infamy, be called Queene; The Treasure of the kingdome shall lye open To pay thy Noble darings.

Bal. Come, Ile doo't, provided I heare Jove call to me tho he rores; I must have the King's hand to this warrant, else I dare not serve it upon my Conscience.

Queen. Be firme, then; behold the King is come.

Enter King.

Bal. Acquaint him.

Queen. I found the metal hard, but with oft beating Hees now so softened he shall take impression From any seale you give him.

King. Baltazar, Come hither, listen; whatsoe're our Queene Has importun'd thee to, touching Onaelia (Neece to the Constable) and her young sonne, My voyce shall second it and signe her promise.

Bal. Their riddance?

King. That.

Bal. What way? by poyson?

King. So.

Bal. Starving, or strangling, stabbing, smothering?

Queen. Good.

King. Any way, so 'tis done.

Bal. But I will have, Sir, This under your owne hand; that you desire it, You plot it, set me on too't.

King. Penne, Inke and paper.

Bal. And then as large a pardon as law and wit Can engrosse for me.

King. Thou shalt ha my pardon.

Bal. A word more, Sir; pray will you tell me one thing?

King. Yes, any thing, deare Baltazar.

Bal. Suppose I have your strongest pardon, can that cure my wounded Conscience? can there your pardon help me? You not onely knocke the Ewe a'th head, but cut the Innocent Lambes throat too: yet you are no Butcher!

Queen. Is this thy promis'd yeelding to an Act So wholesome for thy Country?

King. Chide him not.

Bal. I woo'd not have this sinne scor'd on my head For all the Indaean Treasury.

King. That song no more: Doe this and I will make thee a great man.

Bal. Is there no farther trick in't, but my blow, your purse, and my pardon?

Mal. No nets upon my life to entrap thee.

Bal. Then trust me, these knuckles worke it.

King. Farewell, be confident and sudden.

Bal. Yes; Subjects may stumble when Kings walk astray: Thine Acts shall be a new Apocrypha.

[Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

SCAENA PRIMA.

Enter Medina, Alba and Daenia, met by Baltazar with a Ponyard and a Pistoll.

Bal. You meet a Hydra; see, if one head failes; Another with a sulphurous beake stands yawning.

Med. What hath rais'd up this Devill?

Bal. A great mans vices, that can raise all hell. What woo'd you call that man, who under-saile In a most goodly ship wherein he ventures His life, fortunes and honours, yet in a fury Should hew the Mast downe, cast Sayles over-boord, Fire all the Tacklings, and to crowne this madnesse Shoo'd blow up all the Deckes, burne th'oaken ribbes And in that Combat 'twixt two Elements Leape desperately and drowne himselfe i'th Seas,— What were so brave a fellow?

Omnes. A brave blacke villaine.

Bal. That's I; all that brave blacke villaine dwels in me, If I be that blacke villaine; but I am not: A Nobler Character prints out my brow, Which you may thus read: I was banish'd Spaine For emptying a Court-Hogshead, but repeal'd So I woo'd (e're my reeking Iron was cold) Promise to give it a deepe crimson dye In—none heare?—stay—no, none heare.

Med. Whom then?

Bal. Basely to stab a woman, your wrong'd Neece, And her most innocent sonne Sebastian.

Alb. The Boare now foames with whetting.

Daen. What has blunted Thy weapons point at these?

Bal. My honesty, A signe at which few dwell, pure honesty. I am a vassaile to Medina's house; He taught me first the A, B, C of warre[203] E're I was Truncheon-high I had the stile Of beardlesse Captaine, writing then but boy: And shall I now turne slave to him that fed me With Cannon-bullets, and taught me, Estridge[204]-like, To digest Iron and Steele? no: yet I yeelded With willow-bendings to commanding breaths.

Med. Of whom?

Bal. Of King and Queene: with supple Hams And an ill-boading looke I vow'd to doo't; Yet, lest some choake-peare[205] of State-policy Shoo'd stop my throat and spoyle my drinking-pipe, See (like his cloake) I hung at the Kings elbow Till I had got his hand to signe my life.

Daen. Shall we see this and sleepe?

Alb. No, whilst these wake.

Med. 'Tis the Kings hand.

Bal. Thinke you me a quoyner?

Med. No, no, thou art thy selfe still, Noble Baltazar; I ever knew thee honest, and the marke Stands still upon thy forehead.

Bal. Else flea the skin off.

Med. I ever knew thee valiant and to scorne All acts of basenesse: I have seene this man Write in the field such stories with his sword That our best chiefetaines swore there was in him As 'twere a new Philosophy of fighting, His deeds were so Puntillious. In one battell, When death so nearely mist my ribs, he strucke Three horses stone-dead under me: this man Three times that day (even through the jawes of danger) Redeem'd me up, and (I shall print it ever) Stood o're my body with Colossus thighes Whilst all the Thunder-bolts which warre could throw Fell on his head; and, Baltazar, thou canst not Be now but honest still and valiant still Not to kill boyes and women.

Bal. My byter here eats no such meat.

Med. Goe, fetch the mark'd-out Lambe for slaughter hither; Good fellow souldier, ayd him—and stay—marke, Give this false fire to the beleeving King, That the child's sent to heaven but that the mother Stands rock'd so strong with friends ten thousand billowes Cannot once shake her.

Bal. This I'le doe.

Med. Away; Yet one word more; your Counsel, Noble friends; Harke, Baltazar, because nor eyes nor tongues Shall by loud Larums that the poore boy lives Question thy false report, the child shall closely, Mantled in darknesse, forthwith be conveyed To the Monastery of Saint Paul.

Omnes. Good.

Med. Dispatch then; be quicke.

Bal. As Lightning. [Exit.

Alb. This fellow is some Angell drop'd from heaven To preserve Innocence.

Med. He is a wheele Of swift and turbulent motion; I have trusted him, Yet will not hang on him to many plummets Lest with a headlong Cyre (Gyre?) he ruines all. In these State-consternations, when a kingdome Stands tottering at the Center, out of suspition Safety growes often. Let us suspect this fellow; And that, albeit he shew us the Kings hand, It may be but a tricke.

Daen. Your Lordship hits A poyson'd nayle i'th head: this waxen fellow (By the Kings hand so bribing him with gold) Is set on skrews, perhaps is made his Creature To turne round every way.

Med. Out of that feare Will I beget truth; for my selfe in person Will sound the Kings brest.

Carl. How! your selfe in person.

Alb. That's half the prize he gapes for.

Med. I'le venture it, And come off well, I warrant you, and rip up His very entrailes, cut in two his heart And search each corner in't; yet shall not he Know who it is cuts up th'Anatomy.

Daen. 'Tis an exploit worth wonder.

Carl. Put the worst; Say some Infernall voyce shoo'd rore from hell The Infant's cloystering up.

Alb. 'Tis not our danger Nor the imprison'd Prince's, for what Theefe Dares by base sacrilege rob the Church of him?

Carl. At worst none can be lost but this slight fellow.

Med. All build on this as on a stable Cube: If we our footing keepe we fetch him forth And Crowne him King; if up we fly i'th ayre We for his soules health a broad way prepare.

Daen. They come.

Enter Baltazar and Sebastian.

Med. Thou knowest where To bestow him, Baltazar.

Bal. Come Noble[206] Boy.

Alb. Hide him from being discovered.

Bal. Discover'd? woo'd there stood a troope of Moores Thrusting the pawes of hungry Lions forth To seize this prey, and this but in my hand; I should doe something.

Seb. Must I goe with this blacke fellow, Vncle?

Med. Yes, pretty Coz; hence with him, Baltazar.

Bal. Sweet child, within few minutes I'le change thy fate And take thee hence, but set thee at heavens gate. [Exeunt Bal. and Seb.

Med. Some keepe aloof and watch this Souldier.

Carl. I'le doo't.

Daen. What's to be done now?

Med. First to plant strong guard About the mother, then into some snare To hunt this spotted Panther and there kill him.

Daen. What snares have we can hold him?

Med. Be that care mine: Dangers (like Starres) in darke attempts best shine.

[Exeunt.