+Flo.+ Great sir, Continue but your favour, and my stars Cannot afford a greatness equals it. The treasures of th' ambitious are the scorn Of those who seriously contemplate life. My fortune's high enough: and now my thoughts Grow temperate. Not for the empire of the east, (Which yet retains the treasures man enjoy'd Ere he grew black with sin), would I have wanted This bless'd occasion to express the zeal I owe my prince. Here, with as free a soul I give her to your arms as e'er you threw A smile upon my service. +Asc.+ Thanks, dear friend! (That word must speak our loves). By this great gift Thou hast redeem'd me from the torture, and Possess'd me of the fairest. +Flo.+ O! +Asc.+ The fairest nature e'er made for wonder. +Flo.+ She is fair. +Asc.+ Enjoying her, thy king shall live, who else Were desperate beyond cure. He shall be envied; And every year, as age threatens decay, He shall regain new life from her. Florentio, Believe't, there's miracle in such a beauty. +Flo.+ Surely there is. _Enter +Queen+, +Sanmartino+, +Oniate+, +Cleantha+, +Floriana+._ And see sh' appears! how like some heavenly vision, That kills with too much glory! +Asc.+ Stand still, and wonder with me. +Queen.+ Cleantha! O, the prodigy! And how Wilt thou endure his serious face? Can'st thou, Whom nothing tempted but wit parcel-gilt And the last fashion, suffer Oniate? +Cle.+ Madam, I undertake him for a penance: Perhaps he was enjoin'd me. +Queen.+ It was Love You went to shrift with then. And yet how that Young wanton Idleness should counsel you To this conversion, still is more my riddle. +Cle.+ The court is full of wonders, madam; and 'Tis handsome to do things extravagant. +Queen.+ But how, in th' heat of war, your thoughts should be So apt for Love's impression? +Cle.+ Love will dance As nimbly to the trumpet, fife, or drum, As to those many violins which play So loud at court. Moreover, it concern'd My safety; I so straitly was besieg'd, And by so strong a Cæsar. +Queen.+ O my lord! I am informed with how fierce a spirit You do assault our ladies. +San.+ Pray, your mercy! And if your majesty will please to banish The art of making love quite from the court, I'll not be out of fashion. +Queen.+ For your sake I will contrive it so: and, good my lord, Will you begin th' example, you will see How soon the fine young lords will follow you.-- Your pardon, sir; had I but seen your highness, I had not lost so much of language from A most expressive gratitude. +Asc.+ Madam, you pay a trivial debt with too great interest; For how contemn'd a slightness was my life Until employ'd to serve you?