[_Exeunt, several ways, +Sanmartino+, +Cleantha+, and +Oniate+._ +Flo.+ And are you sure, my lord, he durst presume To look up at her? +Vel.+ Yes, and she commends His person and his spirit. +Flo.+ 'Twas too much T' observe his person. Sure, his spirit's great, And well may challenge the queen's memory. I have not seen him yet. +Vel.+ Nor I, my lord. +Flo.+ He had a fortune gentler far than mine. In envy of that service which I vowed To Arragon, Heaven used a stranger's arm In this great action: I was judged a thing Unfit for use. +Vel.+ Your glory was the greater, Your courage even opposing 'gainst your fate In the attempt. +Flo.+ But yet, mistaken man Esteems the happy only valiant. And if the queen, Velasco, should smile on His merits, and forget that love I have With such religion paid her----But these doubts Are impious, and I sin if I but listen To their disloyal whispers. And behold, _Enter the +Queen+, +Floriana+, +Cleantha+, &c._ She opens, like a rock of diamond, To th' curious search of th' almost bankrupt merchant! So doth the pilot find his star, when storms Have even sunk his bark. Divinest madam! +Queen.+ Welcome, my lord! But pardon me my joys, If I must interrupt you with a sigh. I cannot look upon Florentio's arm, But I must grieve it bled for me. +Flo.+ O, spare The treasure of those tears! Some captive king, Whom fortune hath lock'd up in iron, wants One such to buy his freedom. Madam, all Those streams of blood which flow to warm my earth, Lest it congeal to death, cannot compare For value with the least drop shed for you, By such a quarrel made inestimable. +Queen.+ The war, I see, hath only been the field To exercise your fancy. Your discourse Shows that the court was kept beneath your tent; Yet cannot I, my lord, be jealous, but 'Tis mingled with some love. +Flo.+ 'Tis a pure love, Unmix'd as is the soul. The world perhaps May judge a kingdom hath enamour'd me, And that your titles dress you forth, to raise My appetite up higher. Pardon love, If it grow envious even of your fortune, And that I'm forc'd to wish you had been daughter Of some poor mountain-cottager, without All dowry but your own beauty.[282] Then I might Have showed a flame untainted with ambition, And courted you; but now the circumstance Of greatness seems to challenge more than I Have power to give, and, working up my love, I serve my fortune. +Queen.+ You have not, my lord, Found me uneasy to your vows: and, when The troubled stream of my tempestuous state Shall meet a perfect calm, you then shall know How worthy I esteem your virtue.