BALTHAZAR
Now by my scars I am not.

ONAELIA
I'll call thee honest soldier then, and woo thee
To be an often visitant.

BALTHAZAR
Your servant,
Yet must I be a stone upon a hill,
For thou I do no good, I'll not lie still.

Exeunt.

ACT THREE SCENE ONE

Enter Malateste and the Queen.

MALATESTE
When first you came from Florence, would the world
Had with a universal dire eclipse
Been overwhelmed, no more to gaze on day,
That you to Spain had never found the way,
Here to be lost forever.

QUEEN
We from one climate
Drew suspiration <28>. As thou then hast eyes
To read my wrongs, so be thy head an engine
To raise up ponderous mischief to the height,