BEL. Thanks, good Horatio; take it for thy pains.
[BEL-IMPERIA exits.]
BAL. Signior Horatio stoop'd in happy time!
HOR. I reap'd more grace that I deserv'd or hop'd.
LOR. My lord, be not dismay'd for what is past;
You know that women oft are humorous:
These clouds will overblow with little wind;
Let me alone, I'll scatter them myself.
Meanwhile let us devise to spend the time
In some delightful sports and revelling.
HOR. The king, my lords, is coming hither straight
To feast the Portingal ambassador;
Things were in readiness before I came.
BAL. Then here it fits us to attend the king,
To welcome hither our ambassador,
And learn my father and my country's health.
Enter the banquet, TRUMPETS, the KING,
and AMBASSADOR.
KING. See, lord ambassador, how Spain entreats
Their prisoner Balthazar, thy viceroy's son:
We pleasure more in kindness than in wars.
AMBASS. Sad is our king, and Portingal laments,
Supposing that Don Balthazar is slain.