FERIA. I trust your Grace is well. (_Aside_) How her hand burns! MARY. I am not well, but it will better me, Sir Count, to read the letter which you bring. FERIA. Madam, I bring no letter. MARY. How! no letter? FERIA. His Highness is so vex'd with strange affairs-- MARY. That his own wife is no affair of his. FERIA. Nay, Madam, nay! he sends his veriest love, And says, he will come quickly. MARY. Doth he, indeed? You, sir, do _you_ remember what _you_ said When last you came to England? FERIA. Madam, I brought My King's congratulations; it was hoped Your Highness was once more in happy state To give him an heir male. MARY. Sir, you said more; You said he would come quickly. I had horses On all the road from Dover, day and night; On all the road from Harwich, night and day; But the child came not, and the husband came not; And yet he will come quickly.... Thou hast learnt Thy lesson, and I mine. There is no need For Philip so to shame himself again. Return, And tell him that I know he comes no more. Tell him at last I know his love is dead, And that I am in state to bring forth death-- Thou art commission'd to Elizabeth, And not to me! FERIA. Mere compliments and wishes. But shall I take some message from your Grace? MARY. Tell her to come and close my dying eyes, And wear my crown, and dance upon my grave. FERIA. Then I may say your Grace will see your sister? Your Grace is too low-spirited. Air and sunshine. I would we had you, Madam, in our warm Spain. You droop in your dim London. MARY. Have him away! I sicken of his readiness. LADY CLARENCE. My Lord Count, Her Highness is too ill for colloquy. FERIA (_kneels, and kisses her hand_). I wish her Highness better. (_Aside_) How her hand burns! [_Exeunt_. SCENE III.--A HOUSE NEAR LONDON. ELIZABETH, STEWARD OF THE HOUSEHOLD, ATTENDANTS. ELIZABETH. There's half an angel wrong'd in your account; Methinks I am all angel, that I bear it Without more ruffling. Cast it o'er again. STEWARD. I were whole devil if I wrong'd you, Madam. [_Exit_ STEWARD. ATTENDANT. The Count de Feria, from the King of Spain. ELIZABETH. Ay!--let him enter. Nay, you need not go: [_To her_ LADIES. Remain within the chamber, but apart. We'll have no private conference. Welcome to England! _Enter_ FERIA. FERIA. Fair island star! ELIZABETH. I shine! What else, Sir Count? FERIA. As far as France, and into Philip's heart. My King would know if you be fairly served, And lodged, and treated. ELIZABETH. You see the lodging, sir, I am well-served, and am in everything Most loyal and most grateful to the Queen.