Asc. Not a man
Stir hence: thy sword was loyal as thy thoughts,
And scarce hath pierc'd the skin. O my Florentio!
Flo. My lord and king! But why did you engage
Your sacred person into danger? 'Twas not well:
How many thousand lives depend on yours!
Asc. Envy o' th' greatness I possess'd without
The merit, and desire to know those perils
We wantonly our subjects cast upon
On every weak exception, wrought my youth
Into this action. Nor can I repent
Th' experience of this war.
Flo. But, O great sir,
Why did your majesty suffer this duel?
'Twas cruel and unkind. How easily
This hand might have committed sacrilege!
The very thought whereof, like some pale vision,
Congeals my blood.
Asc. Search not that wound too deep.
Florentio! I shall blush—blush like some lady
Surpris'd in sin—if you too far examine.
Flo. Conceal it not, great sir, though in the speaking
Poison steal through my ear. Be confident:
Unveil your thoughts.
Asc. You needs must hate me, then,
And will have justice to throw off that duty
You owe me as a subject. Let it be
Unspoken still, though smothering it be death.
Flo. Good Heaven defend! What is an army of us
Exposed to certain slaughter, if compared
To th' shortest moment that should serve your quiet?
And shall I live, and see my sovereign wear
A sorrow on his brow?
Asc. Florentio! thou
Art glorious in thy virtue. So was I,
Till looking on the queen I grew o' th' sudden
Darker than midnight.
Flo. O my cruel fate! [Aside.