Lorenzo.
Heav'ns will not let Lorenzo err so much.
Castile.
Why then, Lorenzo, listen to my words:
It is suspected, and reported too,
That thou, Lorenzo, wrong'st Hieronimo;
And in his suits towards his majesty
Still keep'st him back, and seek'st to cross his suit.
Lorenzo.
That I, my lord?
Castile.
I tell thee, son, myself have heard it said,
When (to my sorrow) I have been asham'd
To answer for thee, though thou art[257] my son.
Lorenzo, know'st thou not the common love
And kindness, that Hieronimo hath won
By his deserts within the court of Spain?
Or seest thou not the king my brother's care
In his behalf, and to procure his health?
Lorenzo, shouldst thou thwart his passions,
And he exclaim against thee to the king,
What honour were't in this assembly,
Or what a scandal were't among the kings,
To hear Hieronimo exclaim on thee?
Tell me, and look, thou tell me truly too,[258]
Whence grows the ground of this report in court?
Lorenzo.
My lord, it lies not in Lorenzo's power
To stop the vulgar, liberal[259] of their tongues:
A small advantage makes a water-breach,
And no man lives, that long contenteth all.