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. _Bal_. Acquaint him. _Queen_. I found the metal hard, but with oft beating Hees now so softened he shall take impression From any seale you give him. _King_. _Baltazar_, Come hither, listen; whatsoe're our Queene Has importun'd thee to, touching _Onaelia_ (Neece to the Constable) and her young sonne, My voyce shall second it and signe her promise. _Bal_. Their riddance? _King_. That. _Bal_. What way? by poyson? _King_. So. _Bal_. Starving, or strangling, stabbing, smothering? _Queen_. Good. _King_. Any way, so 'tis done. _Bal_. But I will have, Sir, This under your owne hand; that you desire it, You plot it, set me on too't. _King_. Penne, Inke and paper. _Bal_. And then as large a pardon as law and wit Can engrosse for me. _King_. Thou shalt ha my pardon. _Bal_. A word more, Sir; pray will you tell me one thing? _King_. Yes, any thing, deare _Baltazar_. _Bal_. Suppose I have your strongest pardon, can that cure my wounded Conscience? can there your pardon help me? You not onely knocke the Ewe a'th head, but cut the Innocent Lambes throat too: yet you are no Butcher! _Queen_. Is this thy promis'd yeelding to an Act So wholesome for thy Country? _King_. Chide him not. _Bal_. I woo'd not have this sinne scor'd on my head For all the Indaean Treasury. _King_. That song no more: Doe this and I will make thee a great man. _Bal_. Is there no farther trick in't, but my blow, your purse, and my pardon? _Mal_. No nets upon my life to entrap thee. _Bal_. Then trust me, these knuckles worke it. _King_. Farewell, be confident and sudden. _Bal_. Yes; Subjects may stumble when Kings walk astray: Thine Acts shall be a new Apocrypha. [_Exeunt_. _Actus Quartus_. SCAENA PRIMA. _Enter Medina, Alba and Daenia, met by Baltazar with a Ponyard and a Pistoll_. _Bal_. You meet a _Hydra_; see, if one head failes; Another with a sulphurous beake stands yawning. _Med_. What hath rais'd up this Devill? _Bal_. A great mans vices, that can raise all hell. What woo'd you call that man, who under-saile In a most goodly ship wherein he ventures His life, fortunes and honours, yet in a fury Should hew the Mast downe, cast Sayles over-boord, Fire all the Tacklings, and to crowne this madnesse Shoo'd blow up all the Deckes, burne th'oaken ribbes And in that Combat 'twixt two Elements Leape desperately and drowne him
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