Enter Floriana and Cleantha.
But see Cleantha! Not to be made Grandee,
Would I she should discover me in parley
With such coarse clothes. There, fellow, take that gold,
And let me see thy face no more. Away!
Sol. There 'tis again. I will not owe one hour
[Throws back the money.
Of mirth to such a bounty: I can starve
At easier rate, than live beholden to
The boast of any giver. Lord! I scorn
Thee, and that gold which first created thee. [Exit Soldier.
Flo. That soldier seem'd to carry anger in
His look, my lord.
San. What should his anger move me?
Cle. O no, my lord: the world speaks wonders of
Your mighty puissance.
Flo. 'Tis my joy y'are safe.
But why adventured you into this quarrel?[277]
Cle. The queen will hardly thank your valour, since
They of Castile profess'd themselves her soldiers.