SPAIN. Where’s our lord general, Lorenzo, stout Andrea, With whom I rank sprightly Horatio? What! for shame, shall the Portugals Trample the fields before you? GEN. No, my liege, there’s time enough To let out blood enough: tribute shall flow Out of their bowels, and be tendered so. SPAIN. Farewell, brave lords; my wishes are bequeath’d, A nobler rank of spirits never breath’d. [_Exeunt King and Nobles._ JER. O my sweet boy, heaven shield thee still from care! O, be as fortunate as thou art fair! HOR. And heaven bless you, my father, in this fight, That I may see your grey head crown’d in white! [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ ANDREA _and_ BELL’-IMPERIA. BEL. You came but now, [and] must you part again? You told me that your spirit Should put on peace; but, see, war follows war. AND. Nay, sweet love, cease; To be denied our honour: why, ’twere base To breathe and live; and war[307] in such a case Is even as necessary as our blood. Swords are in season then when right’s withstood: Deny us tribute, that so many years We have in peace told out? why, it would raise Spleen in the host of angels! ’twere enough To make our tranquil saints of angry stuff. BEL. You have o’erwrought the chiding of my breast; And by that argument you firmly prove Honour to soar above the pitch of love. Lend me thy loving and thy warlike arm, On which I knit this soft and silken charm, Tied with an amorous knot: O, may it prove Enchanted armour, being charm’d by love; That when it mounts up to thy warlike crest, It may put by the sword, and so be blest. AND. O, what divinity proceeds from love! What happier fortune than myself can move!-- Hark! the drum beckons me; sweet dear, fare well! This scarf shall be my charm ’gainst foes and hell. BEL. O, let me kiss thee first. AND. The drum again! BEL. Hath that more power than I? AND. Do’t quickly then: farewell! [_Exit_ ANDREA. BEL. Farewell! O cruel part! Andrea’s bosom bears away my heart. [_Exit_ BELL’-IMPERIA. _Enter_ BALTHEZAR, ALEXANDRO, VOLLUPO, _Don_ PEDRO, _with Soldiers, Drum, and Colours._