Don John was unarmed, but his sword lay on the table within his reach.
Seeing the King afraid, he stepped back.
"No," he said scornfully, "I was mistaken.

You are a coward." He laughed as he glanced at Philip's hand, still on the hilt of his weapon and ready to draw it.
In the next room Dolores drew frightened breath, for the tones of the two men's voices had changed suddenly.

Yet her heart had leapt for joy when she had heard Don John's cry of anger at the King's insulting word.
But Don John was right, for Philip was a coward at heart, and though he inwardly resolved that his brother should be placed under arrest as soon as Mendoza returned, his present instinct was not to rouse him further.
He was indeed in danger, between his anger and his fear, for at any moment he might speak some bitter word, accustomed as he was to the perpetual protection of his guards, but at the next his brother's hands might be on his throat, for he had the coward's true instinct to recognize the man who was quite fearless.
"You strangely forget yourself," he said, with an appearance of dignity.
"You spring forward as if you were going to grapple with me, and then you are surprised that I should be ready to defend myself." "I barely moved a step from where I stand," answered Don John, with profound contempt.

"I am unarmed, too.

There lies my sword, on the table.