_Mal_. To these our execrations, and what mischiefe Hell can but hatch in a distracted braine Ile be the Executioner, tho it looke So horrid it can fright e'ne murder backe. _Queen_. Poyson his whore to day, for thou shalt wait On the Kings Cup, and when, heated with wine, He cals to drinke the Brides health, Marry her Alive to a gaping grave. _Mal_. At board? _Queen_. At board. _Mal_. When she being guarded round about with friends, Like a faire Iland hem'd with Rocks and Seas,-- What rescue shall I find? _Queen_. Mine armes? dost faint? Stood all the Pyrenaean hills, that part Spaine and our Country, on each others shoulders, Burning with Aetnean flame, yet thou shouldst on, As being my steele of resolution First striking sparkles from my flinty brest. Wert thou to catch the horses of the Sunne Fast by their bridles and to turne back day, Wood'st thou not doo't (base coward) to make way To the Italians second blisse, revenge? _Mal_. Were my bones threatned to the wheele of torture, Ile doo't. _Enter Lopes_. _Queen_. A ravens voyce, and it likes me well. _Lop_. The King expects your presence. _Mal_. So, so, we come, To turne this Brides day to a day of doome. [_Exeunt_. (SCENE 4.) _A Banquet set out, Cornets sounding; Enter at one dore Lopez, Valasco, Alanzo, No: after them King, Cardinall, with Don Cockadillio, Bridegroome; Queene and Malateste after. At the other dore Alba, Carlo, Roderigo, Medina and Daenia, leading Onaelia as Bride, Cornego and Iuanna after; Baltazar alone; Bride and Bridegroome kisse, and by the Cardinall are join'd hand in hand: King is very merry, hugging Medina very lovingly_. _King_. For halfe Spaines weight in Ingots I'de not lose This little man to day. _Med_. Nor for so much Twice told, Sir, would I misse your kingly presence, Mine eyes have lost th'acquaintance of your face So long, and I so little late read o're That Index of the royall book your mind, That scarce (without your Comment) can I tell When in those leaves you turne o're smiles or frownes. _King_. 'Tis dimnesse of your sight, no fault i'th letter; _Medina_, you shall find that free from Errata's: And for a proofe, If I could breath my heart in welcomes forth, This Hall should ring naught else. Welcome, _Medina_; Good Marquesse _Daenia_, Dons of Spaine all welcome! My dearest love and Queene, be it your place To entertaine the Bride and doe her grace. _Queen_. With all the love I can, whose fire is such, To give her heat, I cannot burne too much. _King_. Contracted Bride and Bridegroome sit; Sweet flowres not pluck'd in season lose their scent, So will our pleasures. Father Cardinall, Methinkes this morning new begins our reigne. _Car_. Peace had her Sabbath ne're till now in Spaine. _King_. Where is our noble Souldier, _Baltazar_? So close in conference with that Signior? _No_. No. _King_. What think'st thou of this great day _Baltazar_?