LOR. Back! see'st thou not the king is busy? HIERO. O! is he so? KING. Who is he that interrupts our business? HIERO. Not I! [aside] Hieronimo, beware! go by, go by! AMBASS. Renown'd king, he hath receiv'd and read Thy kingly proffers and thy promis'd league, And, as a man extremely over-joy'd To hear his son so princely entertain'd, Whose death he had so solemnly bewail'd, This, for thy further satisfaction And kingly love, he kindly lets thee know: First, for the marriage of his princely son With Bel-imperia, thy beloved niece, The news are more delightful to his soul Then myrrh or incense to the offended Heav'ns. In person, therefore, will be come himself To see the marriage rites solemnized And in the presence of the court of Spain To knit a sure inextricable band Of kingly love and everlasting league Betwixt the crowns of Spain and Portingal. There will he give his crown to Balthazar, And make a queen of Bel-imperia. KING. Brother, how like you this our viceroy's love? CAST. No doubt, my lord, it is an argument Of honourable care to keep his friend And wondrous zeal to Balthazar, his son. Nor am I least indebted to his Grace, That bends his liking to my daughter thus. AMBASS. Now last, dread lord, here hath his Highness sent-- Although he send not that his son return-- His ransom due to Don Horatio. HIERO. Horatio? who calls Horatio? KING. And well remember'd, thank his Majesty! Here, see it given to Horatio. HIERO. Justice! O justice! justice, gentle king! KING. Who is that? Hieronimo? HIERO. Justice! O justice! O my son! my son! My son, whom naught can ransom or redeem! LOR. Hieronimo, you are not well advis'd. HIERO. Away, Lorenzo! hinder me no more, For thou hast made me bankrupt of my bliss! Give me my son! You shall not ransom him! Away! I'll rip the bowels of the earth, He diggeth with his dagger. And ferry over th' Elysian plains And bring my son to show his deadly wounds. Stand from about me! I'll make a pickaxe of my poniard, And here surrender up my marshallship; For I'll go marshall up the fiends in hell, To be avenged on you all for this. KING. What means this outrage? Will none of you restrain his fury? HIERO. Nay, soft and fair; you shall not need to strive! Needs must he go that the devils drive. Exit. KING. What accident hath happ'd to Hieronimo? I have not seen him to demean him so. LOR. My gracious lord, he is with extreme pride Conceiv'd of young Horatio, his son, And covetous of having himself The ransom of the young prince, Balthazar, Distract, and in a manner lunatic.