+San.+ This cannot be fiction. [_Aside._ +Cle.+ Then, if she use but civil compliment To a courtier bachelor, he straight bespeaks The licence and the favours, and calls in Some wit into his counsel for the poesy; While I feel no temptation to such folly But with a married lord. +San.+ How, gentle madam? +Cle.+ Our walks are privileg'd, our whispers safe, No fear of laying contracts to my charge, Nor much of scandal: and if there be cause, Who is so fond a gamester of his life, As merely out of spleen to stake it? But, My lord, I now suspect you constru'd ill That language I used to your lady, when I told her of your love: but I presume You were not so dull-sighted as in that Not to discern the best disguise for love. +San.+ What a suspicious ass was I! How captious! I ne'er mistrusted my own wit before. Mischief, how dull was I! +Cle.+ Pray turn your face Away. Now know, when worth and valour are Led on by love, to win my favour. But-- The queen! _Enter +Queen+, +Decastro+, +Ossuna+, +Floriana+, &c._ +San.+ Divine Cleantha! Noblest lady! +Dec.+ Ossuna, let me beg thy care: though we Bravely repuls'd the enemy, they seem To threaten a new assault. +Oss.+ Command your servant. +Dec.+ Bear then a vigilant eye, and by your scouts Learn if they any new attempt prepare. [_Exit +Ossuna+._ May't please your majesty, command these many Ears from your presence. +Queen.+ Good my lord, you who Have power to guide your queen, may make our presence Or full or empty, as you please. +Dec.+ Then with Your licence, madam, they may all withdraw. +Queen.+ Not with our licence. If your usurped greatness Will banish all attendance from our person, I must remain alone; but not a man Stir hence with our good liking. +Dec.+ If your will (Averse from sober counsel) would submit To safe advice---- +Queen.+ You have instructed it To more obedience than I guess my birth Did e'er intend. But pray, my lord, teach me To know my fault, and I will find amendment, If not repentance, for it. +Dec.+ Then, great madam, I must acquaint you that the supreme law Of princes is the people's safety, which You have infring'd, and drawn thereby into The inward parts of this great state a most Contagious fever. +Queen.+ Pray, no metaphor. +Dec.+ You have invited war to interrupt, With its rude noise, the music of our peace: A foreign enemy gathers the fruit The sweat and labour of your subjects planted: In the cool shadow of the vine we prun'd He wantonly lies down, and roughly bids The owner press the grape, that with the juice His blood may swell up to lascivious heats.