+Vel.+ 'Tis a step Beneath Florentio's greatness, whether you His birth consider or his place. Sir, the queen By nature's seated and her high deserts, Where only mighty souls (such as the general's) May offer to aspire. +Ler.+ My lord, your lapse To this proud language is so injurious, that I must be forc'd to purge the humour. That The Lord Florentio offers by a duel To show no man can have fairer pretence To serve the queen, must be allowed; but that You dare cast disregard upon this lord, Although a stranger, urgeth me t' intreat You'd draw your sword. +Vel.+ It hath seen light, and made Way through an army, when fond victory Smil'd on our enemies: it hath done wonders, When the thick troops of Moors invaded us. It fears no opposition. +Ler.+ Show th' effect of't. +Vel.+ Not in a cause so trivial. Each small breath Disturbs the quiet of poor shallow waters; But winds must arm themselves ere the large sea Is seen to tremble. Pray your pardon, sir: I must not throw away my courage on A cause so trivial. +Ler.+ As you please, my lord. But, to omit all circumstance, you bring A challenge to my Lord Ascanio: The reason of the Lord Florentio's anger, A rivalship in love. +Vel.+ You speak it right. +Ler.+ I'll bring you back his resolution Before you have attended many minutes. +Vel.+ Sir, 'twill be decent, for my nature knows Not how to wait: and if no delays Be used, 'twill show a fierce valour in him, And happily prevent discovery. For you may easily conjecture, that A general's absence soon will wake the eye Of the suspicious soldier. +Ler.+ Is my lord In readiness? +Vel.+ He walks not far from hence. +Ler.+ You shall have use then but of a short patience. [_Exit._ +Vel.+ It will be grateful to us, sir. My lord! _Enter +Florentio+._ +Flo.+ And will Ascanio meet? +Vel.+ Immediately. +Flo.+ I had no other way; yet this is rough, And justice whispers 'tis unsafe to tread it. If to love her be sinful, what am I? How dare I call his passion to the bar, And nourish it myself? Why may not he, Who hath as bold a fortune, entertain As bold a love: and in the fate of war Having outgone my service, why not then Present it to the selfsame altar? But We cannot harbour both in the same port; Or he or I am shipwreck'd: for the storm Is rais'd, and, to appease it, death must be The sacrifice. _Enter +Lerma+._ +Vel.+ My lord, here is the second. This stranger dares not meet with your great spirit. +Flo.+ Suspect him not, my lord: he hath a courage Above the sense of fear. Well, sir, your answer?