What, not one day?
PHILIP. You beat upon the rock.
MARY. And I am broken there.
PHILIP. Is this a place
To wail in, Madam? what! a public hall.
Go in, I pray you.
MARY. Do not seem so changed.
Say go; but only say it lovingly.
PHILIP. You do mistake. I am not one to change.
I never loved you more.
MARY. Sire, I obey you.
Come quickly.
PHILIP. Ay.
[_Exit_ MARY.
_Enter_ COUNT DE FERIA.
FERIA (_aside_). The Queen in tears!
PHILIP. Feria!
Hast thou not mark'd--come closer to mine ear--
How doubly aged this Queen of ours hath grown
Since she lost hope of bearing us a child?
FERIA. Sire, if your Grace hath mark'd it, so have I.
PHILIP. Hast thou not likewise mark'd Elizabeth,
How fair and royal--like a Queen, indeed?
FERIA. Allow me the same answer as before--
That if your Grace hath mark'd her, so have I.
PHILIP. Good, now; methinks my Queen is like enough
To leave me by and by.
FERIA. To leave you, sire?
PHILIP. I mean not like to live. Elizabeth--
To Philibert of Savoy, as you know,
We meant to wed her; but I am not sure
She will not serve me better--so my Queen
Would leave me--as--my wife.
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