_M. of Posa._ And may it be sent forth, and where it goes Light fatally and heavy on your foes! But let your loyal son and consort bear No ill, since they of any guiltless are. Here with my sword defiance I proclaim To that bold traitor that dares wrong their fame. _Don John._ I too dare with my life their cause make good. _King._ Sure well their innocence you've understood, That you so prodigal are of your blood. Or wouldst thou speak me comfort? I would find 'Mongst all my counsellors at least one kind. Yet any thing like that I must not hear; For so my wrongs I should too tamely bear, And weakly grow my own mean flatterer. Posa, withdraw--[_Exit_ Marquis of POSA.]--My lords, all this you've heard. _Ruy-Gom._ Yes, I observed it, sir, with strict regard: The young lord's friendship was too great to hide. _King._ Is he then so to my false son allied? I am environed every way, and all My fate's unhappy engines plot my fall. Like Cæsar in the senate, thus I stand, Whilst ruin threatened him on every hand. From each side he had warning he must die; Yet still he braved his fate, and so will I. To strive for ease would but add more to pain: As streams that beat against their banks in vain, Retreating, swell into a flood again. No, I'll do things the world shall quake to hear; My just revenge so true a stamp shall bear, As henceforth Heaven itself shall emulate, And copy all its vengeance out by that. All but Ruy-Gomez I must have withdrawn, I've something to discourse with him alone. [_Exeunt_ Don JOHN _and_ Attendants. Now, Gomez, on thy truth depends thy fate; Thou'st wrought my sense of wrong to such a height, Within my breast it will no longer stay, But grows each minute till it force its way. I would not find myself at last deceived. _Ruy-Gom._ Nor would I 'gainst your reason be believed. Think, sir, your jealousy to be but fear Of losing treasures which you hold so dear. Your queen and son may yet be innocent: I know but what they did, not what they meant. _King._ Meant! what should looks, and sighs, and pressings mean? No, no; I need not hear it o'er again. No repetitions--something must be done. Now there's no ill I know that I would shun. I'll fly, till them I've in their incest found, Full charged with rage, and with my vengeance hot, Like a grenado from a cannon shot, Which lights at last upon the enemy's ground, Then, breaking, deals destruction all around. [_Exit._