And. What! not to have honour bestowed on me?
Bel. O, yes; but not a wandering honour, dear;
I could afford well, diddest thou stay here.
Could honour melt itself into thy veins,
And thou the fountain, I could wish it so,
If thou wouldst remain here with me, and not go.
And. ’Tis but to Portugal.
Hor. But to demand the tribute, lady.
Bel. Tribute! alas, that Spain cannot of peace
Forbear a little coin, the Indies being so near.