Is it so fine?
Troth, some have said so.
FERIA. --would be deemed a miracle.
ELIZABETH. Your Philip hath gold hair and golden beard;
There must be ladies many with hair like mine.
FERIA, Some few of Gothic blood have golden hair,
But none like yours.
ELIZABETH. I am happy you approve it.
FERIA. But as to Philip and your Grace--consider,
If such a one as you should match with Spain,
What hinders but that Spain and England join'd,
Should make the mightiest empire earth has known.
Spain would be England on her seas, and England
Mistress of the Indies.
ELIZABETH. It may chance, that England
Will be the Mistress of the Indies yet,
Without the help of Spain.
FERIA. Impossible;
Except you put Spain down.
Wide of the mark ev'n for a madman's dream.
ELIZABETH. Perhaps; but we have seamen.
Count de Feria,
I take it that the King hath spoken to you;
But is Don Carlos such a goodly match?
FERIA. Don Carlos, Madam, is but twelve years old.
ELIZABETH. Ay, tell the King that I will muse upon it;
He is my good friend, and I would keep him so;
But--he would have me Catholic of Rome,
And that I scarce can be; and, sir, till now
My sister's marriage, and my father's marriages,
Make me full fain to live and die a maid.
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