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Thy marriage with Henriquez made thee great;
This doth not make thee greater; woe the day!
Nor happier neither.

LEONORA.

Woe the day! Poor dove!

That would beneath the cottage eaves for ever
Sit moping in the shade with household birds,
Nor spread thy silver plumage to the sun.

MENCIA.

The sun hath scorch'd my wings, which were not made

For such high soaring.
He who would raise me to his nobler rank
Will soon perceive that I but grace it poorly.

LEONORA.

Away with such benumbing diffidence!

Let buoyant fancy first bear up thy merit,
And fortune and the world's applause will soon
Support the freight. When first I saw Henriquez,
Though but the daughter of a humble house,
I felt the simple band of meadow flowers
That bound my hair give to my glowing temples
The pressure of a princely coronet.
I felt me worthy of his love, nor doubted
That I should win his heart, and wear it too.

MENCIA.

Thou dost, indeed, reign in his heart triumphant;

Long may thy influence last.