Cle. Sir, shall I lie?
King. Yes, lie and damn, rather than tell me that; I say again, where is she? Mutter not; Sir, speak you where is she?
Di. Sir, I do not know.
King. Speak that again so boldly, and by Heaven
It is thy last. You fellows answer me,
Where is she? Mark me all, I am your King.
I wish to see my Daughter, shew her me;
I do command you all, as you are subjects,
To shew her me, what am I not your King?
If I, then am I not to be obeyed?
Di. Yes, if you command things possible and honest.
King. Things possible and honest! Hear me, thou,
Thou Traytor, that darest confine thy King to things
Possible and honest; shew her me,
Or let me perish, if I cover not all Cicily with bloud.
Di. Indeed I cannot, unless you tell me where she is.
King. You have betray'd me, y'have, let me lose
The Jewel of my life, go; bring her me,
And set her before me; 'tis the King
Will have it so, whose breath can still the winds,
Uncloud the Sun, charm down the swelling Sea,
And stop the Flouds of Heaven; speak, can it not?
Di. No.
King. No, cannot the breath of Kings do this?