_Bal_. 'Tis _Aqua Coelestis_, no venome; for, when you shall claspe up those wo books, never to be open'd againe; when by letting fall that Anchor, which can never more bee weighed up, your mortall Navigation ends: then there's no playing at spurne-point[191] with thunderbolts: a Vintner then for unconscionable reckoning or a Taylor for unreasonable _Items_ shall not answer in halfe that feare you must. _King_. No more. _Bal_. I will follow Truth at the heels, tho her foot beat my gums in peeces. _King_. The Barber that drawes out a Lion's tooth Curseth his Trade; and so shalt thou. _Bal_. I care not. _King_. Because you have beaten a few base-borne Moores Me think'st thou to chastise? what's past I pardon, Because I made the key to unlocke thy railing. But if thou dar'st once more be so untun'd, Ile send thee to the Gallies.--Who are without, there? How now? _Enter Lords drawne_. _Omnes_. In danger, Sir? _King_. Yes, yes, I am; but 'tis no point of weapon Can rescue me. Goe presently and summon All our chiefe Grandoes[192], Cardinals and Lords Of _Spaine_ to meet in counsell instantly. We call'd you forth to execute a businesse Of another straine,--but 'tis no matter now. Thou dyest when next thou furrowest up our brow. _Bal_. Go! dye! [_Exit_. _Enter Cardinal, Roderigo, Alba,[193] Dania, Valasco_. _King_. I find my Scepter shaken by enchantments Charactred in this parchment, which to unloose I'le practise only counter-charmes of fire And blow the spells of lightning into smoake: Fetch burning Tapers. [_Exeunt_. _Card_. Give me Audience, Sir; My apprehension opens me a way To a close fatall mischiefe worse then this You strive to murder: O this act of yours Alone shall give your dangers life, which else Can never grow to height; doe, Sir, but read A booke here claspt up, which too late you open'd, Now blotted by you with foul marginall notes. _King_. Art fratricide? _Car_. You are so, Sir. _King_. If I be, Then here's my first mad fit. _Card_. For Honours sake, For love you beare to conscience-- _King_. Reach the flames: Grandoes and Lords of _Spaine_ be witnesse all What here I cancell; read, doe you know this bond? _Omnes_. Our hands are too't. _Daen_. 'Tis your confirmed contract With my sad kinswoman: but wherefore, Sir, Now is your rage on fire, in such a presence To have it mourne in ashes? _King_. Marquesse _Daenia_, Wee'll lend that tongue when this no more can speake. _Car_. Deare Sir. _King_. I am deafe, Playd the full consort of the Spheares unto me Vpon their lowdest strings.--Go; burne that witch Who would dry up the tree of all Spaines Glories But that I purge her sorceries by fire: Troy lyes in Cinders; let your Oracles Now laugh at me if I have beene deceiv'd By their ridiculous riddles. Why, good father, (Now you may freely chide) why was your zeale Ready to burst in showres to quench our fury?