Act 1 — [Scene V.][753]

King. See, lord Ambassador, how Spain entreats Their prisoner Balthazar, thy viceroy’s son. We pleasure more in kindness than in wars. Amb. Sad is our king, and Portingale laments, Supposing that Don Balthazar is slain.5 Bal. So am I!—slain by beauty’s tyranny. You see, my lord, how Balthazar is slain: I frolic with the Duke of Castile’s son, Wrapp’d every hour in pleasures of the court, And grac’d with favours of his majesty.10 King. Put off your greetings, till our feast be done; Now come and sit with us, and taste our cheer. Sit to the banquet. Sit down, young prince, you are our second guest; Brother, sit down; and, nephew, take your place. Signior Horatio, wait thou upon our cup;15 For well thou hast deserved to be honoured. Now, lordings, fall to; Spain is Portugal, And Portugal is Spain: we both are friends; Tribute is paid, and we enjoy our right. But where is old Hieronimo, our marshal?20 He promis’d us, in honour of our guest, To grace our banquet with some pompous[754] jest. Enter Hieronimo, with a drum, three knights, each his scutcheon; then he fetches three kings; they take their crowns and them captive. Hieronimo, this masque contents mine eye, Although I sound not well the mystery. Hier. The first arm’d knight, that hung his scutcheon up,25 He takes the scutcheon and gives it to the King. Was English Robert, Earl of Gloucester, Who, when King Stephen bore sway in Albion, Arriv’d with five and twenty thousand men In Portingale, and by success of war Enforc’d the king, then but a Saracen,30 To bear the yoke of the English monarchy. King. My lord of Portingale, by this you see That which may comfort both your king and you, And make your late discomfort seem the less. But say, Hieronimo, what was the next?35 Hier. The second knight, that hung his scutcheon up, He doth as he did before. Was Edmund, Earl of Kent in Albion, When English Richard wore the diadem. He came likewise, and razed Lisbon walls, And took the King of Portingale in fight;40 For which and other such-like service done He after was created Duke of York. King. This is another special argument, That Portingale may deign to bear our yoke, When it by little England hath been yok’d.45 But now, Hieronimo, what were the last? Hier. The third and last, not least, in our account, Doing as before. Was, as the rest, a valiant Englishman, Brave John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, As by his scutcheon plainly may appear.50 He with a puissant army came to Spain, And took our King of Castile prisoner. Amb. This is an argument for our viceroy That Spain may not insult for her success, Since English warriors likewise conquered Spain,55 And made them bow their knees to Albion. King. Hieronimo, I drink to thee for this device, Which hath pleas’d both the ambassador and me: Pledge me, Hieronimo, if thou love the king. Takes the cup of Horatio. My lord, I fear we sit but over-long,60 Unless our dainties were more delicate; But welcome are you to the best we have. Now let us in, that you may be despatch’d: I think our council is already set. Exeunt omnes.

Andrea. Come we for this from depth of underground,65 To see him feast that gave me my death’s wound? These pleasant sights are sorrow to my soul: Nothing but league, and love, and banqueting? Revenge. Be still, Andrea; ere we go from hence, I’ll turn their friendship into fell despite,70 Their love to mortal hate, their day to night, Their hope into despair, their peace to war, Their joys to pain, their bliss to misery.