Welcome, Balthazar, welcome, brave prince, The pledge of Castile's peace;-- And welcome, Bell'-Imperia: how now, girl? Why com'st thou sadly to salute us thus? Content thyself, for I am satisfied; It is not now as when Andrea liv'd, We have forgotten and forgiven that, And thou art graced with a happier love:-- But, Balthazar, here comes Hieronimo; I'll have a word with him. _Enter_ HIERONIMO _and a_ SERVANT. HIERONIMO. And where's the duke? SERVANT. Yonder. HIERONIMO. Even so: what new device have they devised, trow? _Pocas palabras_,[263] mild as the lamb; Is't,[264] I will be reveng'd! No, I am not the man. CASTILE. Welcome, Hieronimo. LORENZO. Welcome, Hieronimo. BALTHAZAR. Welcome, Hieronimo. HIERONIMO. My lords, I thank you for Horatio. CASTILE. Hieronimo, the reason that I sent To speak with you, is this. HIERONIMO. What, so short? Then I'll be gone, I thank you for't. CASTILE. Nay, stay, Hieronimo--[_Goes out_]--go call him, son. LORENZO. Hieronimo, my father craves a word with you. [_Re-enter_ HIERONIMO. HIERONIMO. With me, sir? why, my lord, I thought you had done. LORENZO. No; 'would he had! [_Aside._ CASTILE. Hieronimo, I hear You find yourself aggrieved at my son, Because you have not access unto the king; And say, 'tis he that intercepts your suits. HIERONIMO. Why, is not this a miserable thing, my lord? CASTILE. Hieronimo, I hope you have no cause, And would be loth that one of your deserts Should once have reason to suspect my son, Considering how I think of you myself. HIERONIMO. Your son Lorenzo! whom, my noble lord? The hope of Spain, mine honourable friend? Grant me the combat of them, if they dare: [_Draws out his sword._ I'll meet him face to face to tell me so. These be the scandalous reports of such, As love not me, and hate my lord too much; Should I suspect Lorenzo would prevent Or cross my suit, that lov'd my son so well?-- My lord, I am asham'd it should be said. LORENZO. Hieronimo, I never gave you cause. HIERONIMO.