THE HUMOROUS COURTIER.  
A COMEDY, As it hath been presented with good applause at the private house in Drury-Lane.  
Written by JAMES SHIRLEY Gent.  
 
LONDON. Printed by T. C. for William Cooke, and are to be sold by James Becket, in the Inner Temple. 1640.   

A Catalogue of such things as hath been published by James Shirley Gent.  

traitor.  
Witty Fair one.  
Bird in a Cage.  
Changes, or Love in a Maze.  
Grateful Servant.  
Wedding.  
Hide Park.  
Young Admiral.  
Lady of Pleasure.  
Gamester.  
Example.  
Duke's Mistress.  
Ball.  
Chabot Admiral of France.  
Royal Master.  
School of Compliments.  
Contention for Honour and Riches.  
Triumph of peace, a Masque.  
maids' Revenge.  
Humorous Courtier.    

The Actors names.  

COmachio, an old Lord, Uncle to Depazzi.  
Orseollo an humorous Lord.  
Volterre 2 young Lords. Contarini  
Depazzi, a young foolish lord  
Giotto, a cunning Court favourite.  
The Duchess.  
Laura, a young gentlewoman great in favour.  
Carintha, wife to Contarini.  
Dandalo, servant to Contarini.  
Crispino, servant to Depazzi.  
Sancho servant to Orseollo.  
Officer.  
Servants.  
Attendants.    

THE HUMOROUS COURTIER.  

Actus Primi. Scena Prima.  Enter Volterre, Orseollo. Volterre. 
REmember where you are,  Ors. 
That ever man  
Should be so dull of soul to love a woman.  Vol. 
What in the name of fury hath made you  
An enemy to that sex, upon what Lady  
False beyond Cressida, didst thou lose thy patience?  
Find it again for shame, thou wert not borne  
A woman hater.  Ors. 
No, I thank heaven  
My mother's dead, and all my sisters, I  
Had a contention in my nature, when  
They were alive, but tie of blood prevailed  
Against my disposition, I confess  
I never wished them dead.  Vol. 
How hadst thou been  
Alive, but for thy mother?  Ors, 
That's one reason  
Should make our love the less to 'em, they do  
But bring's acquainted with the world, which at  
Our birth we are afraid of, and grow old  
But to repent we are not embrois still,  
Or things lost in conception.  Vol. 
We may  
As well condemn our fathers, and declaim  
'Gainst them for our begetting, come Orseollo,  
Desist to be a Satire, I hope you would not  
The Duchess should hear this; collect yourself  
You are i'th' presence, put on a smooth face  
And speak Court language, let me counsel you  
To softness; what a Courtier and so rugged?  
Princes they say have many cares, and 'tis  
not less than treason, in a woman's court  
To be so violent against 'em, these  
Hangings may eavesdrop us.  Ors. 
Let 'em, let 'em,  
May be 'twould move the Duchess to exempt me  
From my attendance; and she knew my mind  
She would allow me a writ of ease, lest I  
Infect her Court with railing 'gainst her sex:  
I'd rather hear a mandrake, then let in  
The noise of women; heaven that I might never  
Converse with any.  Volt. 
Thou wilt never marry.  Ors. 
Marry? I'll first engender with a Viper,  
Were there but one woman alive, and but  
By knowing her, no hope to stock the world  
Again, I'd geld myself.  Volt. 
Pity thou shouldst  
Marry, to get a son that should be like thee;  
Take heed least women for this bitterness  
Make thee not first an Eunuch, but we ha' lost  
Our first discourse, thy passion like a storm  
Hath quite transported us, from the Duke Foscari,  
That hath now left us, let's  
A cold suit with the Duchess.  Ors. 
If I stay  
I shall talk treason, a cold suit? for ever  
Ice dwell within their marrows can affect 'em,  
He was too worthy on her.  Vol, 
He deserved,  
I know not what to think out, 'tis the third  
Prince, that our duties have commended,  
In hope to be made happy with her issue:  
Nay, nay, have truce a little with thy spleen,  
And let's talk wisely, we shall be observed;  
I wonder.  Ors. 
So do I.  Vol. 
At what?  Ors. 
At nothing,  
At a woman, how 'tis possible a man  
Should court and love 'em so, but now I think one,  
I do not wonder.  Vol. 
How is this?  Ors. 
They are  
All Circe's, and do steal away our souls;  
They juggle us into shapes and puppets lovers.  Vol. 
They ha' not juggled you methinks.  Enter Contarini, signior Contarini. Con. 
Volterre and Orseollo, morrow to ye,  
You hear the news.  
Foscari is departed.  Vol. 
In a mist, is he not? here's but we three,  
The Duchess is a strange woman.  Or. 
Contarini hast any other faith,  
Are they not all so Volterre?  
Thou hast been a traveller, and conversed  
with the Antipodes, almost put a girdle  
about the world, taken dimensions  
Of every nature, tasted all airs, and canst  
Distinguish 'em to an atom, tell me signior  
And be not partial to the Sex, didst ever  
Upon thy honour meet with such a creature,  
We here call virtuous woman, are not all  
The stock of 'em inconstant?  Vol. 
Nay let's ha'  
No more invectives signior Orseollo  
Traduce not all for some, it must be granted.  Con. 
They are an excellent creation, though  
Some few decline from virtue, I've a wife,  
I'm but new married neither, yet I dare  
Boast my opinion.  Ors. 
Do not, the Moon  
Is yet but i'th' first quarter Contarini,  
I would endear my thoughts to thee, and thou  
Wert not married, boast thy opinion.  
Go sacrifice to sleep, why these are women  
Will cozen a strong faith, cuckold their husbands,  
Yet taken in the act persuade 'em into  
A belief they do but dream so.  Con. 
signior  
You're pleasant.  Vol. 
Pleasant  Con. 
As his gall will suffer him,  
He has been casting out up this half hour,  
Yet there is some behind still, if you name  
A woman, he takes fire like touchwood, but  
To the Duke Foscari.  Ors, 
I have it,  Vol. 
What?  Ors. 
Ye talk  Duke Foscari. Con. 
We do.  Ors. 
I ha' the cause hen went away so soon.  Vol. 
Prithee every our knowledge, why?  Ors. 
I honour him.  Con. 
So we do all.  Ors. 
He is a brave Duke, a man,  
And in that, more than all his titles make him,  
Some easy natures would ha' languished for her,  
And ha' been paler than ye mean, with watching  
Distilled their brain, tired, yea some to seem  
commit Idolatry, given her their souls,  
And changed 'em to her motion; in each window  
Bescratching with some Diamond her name,  
And warm it so with kisses till it thaw  
The very glass, which weeps itself away  
In pity of the dotage, been content  
To ha' worn their youth away in expectation;  
This Prince was wiser, he left Parma to  
Behold a creature was cried up, the miracle  
Of nature, a new star like Cassiopeia  
That drew the eyes of Italy, and left 'em  
Fixed in the admiration, but he needing  
No jacob's staff to take the height, and looking  
With a true eye upon this wonder, found  
She was a woman, nothing but a woman,  
His wisdom quickly taught him to return  
A shamed of his credulity.  Vol. 
He's mad,  
What a wild passion like a torrent, bears him  
Against the women, 'tis well your hate  
Points at the general, one woman's anger  
Would check your forward— else  
Contarini.  Con. 
I dare not hear him talk more, we shall be  
Held cherishers of his railing humour, in, in,  
Prithee let's leave him.  Vol. 
Why signior, are you so transported  
You have not power enough to seem calm,  
What dost at Court?  Ors. 
Not cringe as you, and adore the nods  
Of painted Ladies, weary my hams to answer  
Madams half curtsies, I ne'er come to Court  
But to defend me from it.  Bo. 
Ha?  Ors. 
The truth is,  
I would be fain discharged, 'tis a hell to me,  
There are so many wormed in't: would the Duchess  
Would banish me into some Wilderness,  
I should endure the beasts though they devoured men,  
I hate no monsters but the Harpies.  Con. 
Why?  Ors. 
Harpies have women's faces Contarini,  
Yet now I think Volterre I have heard  
There's another feminine murderer  
Called the hyena, that invites men forth  
To be devoured; you've heard how the Egyptian  
Crocodile weeps, when death itself lies bathing  
Within her tears, think but upon women  
And tell me which I should avoide-first.  Enter Comachio, Giotto. Com. 
I seem a merit nigh, and I hope  
You will deserve the favour, we are not  
Wont to admit of servants near their person,  
Without more caution.  Gio. 
It makes my bond  
Of duty and observance greater.  Con. 
My Lord Comachio.  Com. 
Let me employ some of your care upon  
My Nephew, something you may add  
To improve him, you shall till no barren ground,  
Though he reward you not with fruitfulness,  
I shall have power to make you think your studies  
Well placed.  Gio. 
Your compass I shall sail by.  Exit Com. 
Contarini how's the day?  Vol. 
Not early.  Com. 
Signior Orseollo, I know what cloud  
Muffles your thoughts.  Con. 
He is constant to his humour.  Com. 
Not the Duchess, come faith yet Orseollo,  
We shall entreat you join with us to the Duchess.  Ors. 
Yes, heigh!—  Exit. Vol. 
So, so, he would but trouble us.  Com. 
My Lords, we must be circumspect,  
We are not to negotiate a design  
That looks but at the profit of one man:  
The Duchy calls to own it, all our cares  
You know have met, that we might move the Duchess  
To exchange her dull Virginity for Marriage;  
Foscari whom our ambition pointed at, is lost  
And he in some disgust gone hence.  Vol. 
I fear so.  Com. 
His violent departure gives us more  
Than jealousy, we must solicit her,  
But so as shall become our duties, and  
Express our knowledge of her great soul  
And pregnant wit.  Con. 
She enters signior Comachia, 'tis referred  
To your delivery.  Enter Duchess, Laura, Attendants. Dutch. 
Comachio! we have no knowledge of thy age,  
But what thy wisdom and experience doth  
Discover, is't not troublesome, t'attend  
A young Court?  Com. 
Your grace so desires my duty, that I  
Delight in service.  Dutch. 
Contarini i'th' morning's eyen, reveals  
More youth, than he did by Hymen's tapers;  
Looks younger than when we call him Bridegroom.  
Censure him Laura.  she sits. Lau. 
Your Highness knows he hath a young wife.  Con. 
All my use of time, is but to perfect  
My obedience to your excellence.  Dutch. 
We cherish both your loves, and you Volterre  
Are great too within our memory.  Vol. 
I shall endeavour new merits.  Dutch. 
The cause of your attendance now, is known  
Ere you deliver it. The departure  
Of the young Duke (our Lover) from our Court  
In so obscure a way, without your notice;  
Our consent published gives you just cause  
Of wonder: yet so much you're skilled both in  
Our soul and nature, that no immediate  
Motive of his anger shall be laid to  
Our charge; but what you think, makes our person  
Safe, and great.  Com. 
We come with humble modesty t'require  
So much, as shall concern our care, both  
Of your gracious self, and our good Country.  
Foscari, Duke of Parma is a great Prince;  
Feature; a Lady, like your excellence,  
His youth and strength may promise issue even  
To a matron.  Dutch. 
We know he merits all his praise. Proceed  
To what you call your business.  Com. 
His Catholic Majesty did lately by  
His Lieger, urge a title to this Duchy,  
And desire your Counsel, he might be named  
Your Highness next, and lawful heir, unless  
From your own person, were derived a Prince  
To intercept his hopes, with ease, you may  
Consider, how unkind our fate will be,  
Beyond his own natural soil, doth make  
Obedience bondage.  Dutch. 
You have yet hope, 'tis in my power  
To prevent what you suspect.  Com. 
We have, but Time (the enemy to lie,  
And to increase) may scorn, destroy that hope.  
If not for propitious love to us;  
Yet for your own sake, your glory, hasten  
The cure of these our fears: Time is the moth  
Of nature, devours all beauty, when those  
Bright eyes, that govern now with Phoebus-like  
Predominance, shall yield no light unto  
That darkened sky (your face) some aged mother  
proud of her fertile womb, will show you then  
Her offspring. Behold (quoth she) I need no  
Marble house for my fame to dwell in, these  
Are my living monuments, but your sullen  
chastity, will not permit your fame t' outlive  
Your breath.  Dutch. 
No more Comachio! these are my own thoughts:  
Shortly you shall see I am art, prevention  
Of all danger.  All. 
You are my gracious Mistress.  Com. 
Yea you shall much divulge your clemency  
If to stifle public noise you reveal  
The reason; why Foscari was not made  
Your choice.  Dutch. 
Foscari is a foreigner: borne in  
A climate not so temperate as ours,  
And I am yet to know, whether his mind  
Be different from such as please me here  
At home: foreign alliance is an old  
Disguise for Sunice's hatred: It charms the  
Peaceful into a dull security;  
Until the furious find best advantage  
To make his anger known: than both are more  
Engaged t'inflame, what erst th' one did kindle.  
I should sin my good Lords, if I did think  
My humility disgraced my honour,  
When I supposed my own Court able to  
Breed a man, fit to mingle blood, even with  
A Princess; should I say with mine: what amazed,  
Why does it want example, I should not  
Think my choice would much accuse my eyes, if  
I elect a Lover here: unless some  
Are more desertless than I am guilty of, Laura!  Exeunt Duchess, Attendance. They first gaze on one another, then walk up and down. Com. 
join to us Oedipus, yet we shall want  
Help t'expound this Riddle—  Con. 
A Lover here from her own Court, sure it  
Must be from this number, signior Volterre!  Vol. 
My very good Lord.  Con. 
You are the man, the stars dance to. The spheres  
Do practise music, only to make you  
Merry, you are he signior.  Vol. 
Who, I my Lord?  Con. 
Do not conceal your hopes: they'll be worthy  
Your acknowledgement; you would be installed  
Ith' dark, steal titles, without the notice  
Of the Heralds, but noise attends honour.  Vol. 
I need a Comment to your words.  Con. 
Come, you young men are all temptation;  
You have the purple veins (signior) that swell  
With wanton pride, and ladies' judgements are  
Much governed by their eyes; what grace, what favour,  
Did the Duchess lately show you, the more  
T'endear your duty? hah?  Vol. 
I want a soul (signior) if she ever  
Honoured me with any phrase; but what is  
Usual in her Compliment tother Lords.  Con. 
Is't possible—  Vol. 
He has discovered somewhat that concerns  
My joy. Nature needs no excuse why a  
Duchess should affect a travailed Lord;  
You are great too, within our memory.  
These were her words. hum!—  Com. 
signior Contarini.  Con. 
My Lord.  Com. 
You observed the Duchess language?  Con. 
Am I not thinking on't? heart, why do ye  
interrupt me?—  Com. 
How's this my Lord Volterre?  Vol. 
Your pleasure signior!  Com. 
You have a fortunate skill in translation  
Of mysterious language: I pray lend me  
Your censure upon the last words the Duchess  
Uttered.  Vol. 
Hah signior? they concern not me, I am  
Forgotten by my stars, ay, Volterre  
Is lost to all Eyesight, but his own.  Com. 
Do our brains melt this hot weather. These men  
Were heretofore discreet, and now they talk  
A if they had no Eyelids, like things that  
Never slept. I find the cause.  Exit. Con. 
Quoth she, he looks younger, than when he stood  
By Hymen's tapers, good, very good, I have  
O were I single now; my wife, my wife;  
She ruins all this hope.—  Vol. 
Since I have travelled, brought from France, the nice  
Amorous cringe, that so enchants Ladies:  
'tis fit I use it often, the tongue is  
Powerful too, and I enrich in languages,  
It shall be known—  Con. 
signior Volterre.  Vol. 
To bring Revels in the Court, that's the way,  
I have myself an able chine, and I  
Can frisk like a Goat: which females call  
A lucky symptom— signior Contarini,  Con. 
Your lop. must excuse me, I'm a little  
Serious.  Vol. 
O for a sight of Jupiter's wardrobe  
That I might imitate the shape, in which  
He courted Diana!  Con. 
signior Volterre.  Vol. 
I my Lord that's my name, I'll go write  
It down, lest this business make me forget it.  Exit. Con. 
Rebellious blood! must I neëds marry? had  
I but delayed my lust a month, I might  
Have wasted then my strength and nature, to  
A nobler purpose: beget Princes, now  
I am in bondage to my marriage vow.  Exit.  

Act. 2. Scena. 1.  Enter Contarini, Dandalo. Con. 
MY Wife must do't and than I may effect  
My hope with the great Duchess as soon as he  
Most proud of demerits. Dandalo  
Where's your Lady.  Dan. 
Your Lordship may hear both her voice and Lute,  
she's in the garden with Reollo your  
Musician.  Con. 
Hear, does she so much despair of long life,  
That she need flatter her soul to tarry here  
With soft Airs, and wanton Music.  Danda. 
My Lord.  Con. 
Conduct her hither.  Enter Carintha. Car. 
I saw your entrance, you bring news from Court,  
Let me share in't.  Con. 
I must work her to it with art and leisure.  Car. 
What does your lop say?  Con. 
Sweet lend me thy ear in private— can I  
Demand a thing from her that slumbered in  
My bosom, and she be so unkind  
To give my suit a hard repulse.  Car. 
My Lord I am not guilty of a cause  
That can warrant your suspect either of  
My love or duty.  Con. 
I believe thee (dear Carintha) but this  
Injunction is so severe and strange, 'twill  
Puzzle thy consent at first.  Car. 
Sir make it known, I cannot be so slow  
In any performance of your will, as you  
Are to reveal it.  Con. 
Thy breath is sweeter than the smoke ascending  
From the Phoenix funeral pile, I could  
Kiss thee, even engender on thy lips.  Car. 
You were not wont to be thus pleased, show me  
Which way I may requite your passion, speak  
The suit you talk on.  Con. 
Now I know the strength of thy affection,  
I slight my suit the grave will prove too easy.  Car. 
What is it.  Con. 
I'll have thee only kill thyself, cruch, thou  
shalt do it, hah—  Car. 
Sir I suspect your health, you were not wont  
To show your speech so much estranged from reason.  Con. 
Is this your love, your forward kindness?  Car. 
Scarce has the Moon expired a change since you  
Received me in your bed a cold Virgin;  
Are you so soon tired with sacred marriage,  
Desirous to motive my eternal  
Absence and by a means so cruel sir,  
How have I deserved your hatred, or please  
But to reveal the profit which by death  
Can bring you.  Con. 
I have not leisure to reply to your  
Demands, will you do't.  Car. 
You fright my soul.  Con. 
Orseollo happy you, whose frozen nature  
Will not permit a closure with a woman.  
The sex do quite degenerate from those  
Great patterns which the former age produced.  
Portia swallowed fire to please her husband's ghost,  
Who enticed him to Elysium; Lucrece,  
To purchase life unto her memory,  
Noise at her funeral such as might cleave  
Her fame, priced her dear heart, and died  Car. 
We have a certain faith, a faith  
That can assure reward, or punishment  
For deeds, we know our dwelling after death,  
Which Roman souls unlawfully did seek,  
And found too soon, we are prescribed those act  
That makes us Angels.  Con. 
She has been gossipping with the holy  
Sisters, zeal, and purity.  Car. 
It were safer for my soul; if yourself  
Would be my Executioner.  Con. 
I thank you Lop. I am exposed  
To the justice of the law, he whose rich  
And his Prince become his heir cannot live long;  
Besides my hopes to enjoy the Duchess,  
Are then quite frustrate.  Car. 
What said your Lop.  Con. 
I did not think Carintha thou hadst been  
So stern of nature, thouhast a stubborn heart;  
Deny my first request.  Car. 
Should I kill myself.  Con. 
Why must we not all die, 'tis a thrifty  
Conscience that persuades the soul to hasten  
Her departure hence to avoid future guilt.  Car. 
You counsel strangely, I have deserved more  
Kindness from your tongue.  Con. 
If thou suspectest thou hast not fortitude  
Enough, t'attempt thy death by violence:  
Expire with leisure: refrain from meat, till  
Th' orifice of thy stomach close, and grow  
Together; or when thou feedest, eat arsenic,  
Die any way, so the law call not me  
Thy murderer.  Car. 
Heaven secure me, have you the use of all  
Your senses, ye speak thus?  Con. 
But if you'll choose an easier way, each morning  
Fetch a tedious sigh or two, 'twill make your  
Heart to cleave, I'll give you cause enough to do't.  Car. 
You have a bloody mind.  Con. 
Or as some Country Virgins do scratch mortar  
From an aged wall and eat it up in  
Private, so die on the green disease, but now  
I think upon't that's to perplex away,  
Unto the Grave.  Car. 
I dare not hate the thought you've tempted me,  
Beyond mortal patience, oh unkind  
Destiny.  Exit Con. 
Do, fret, gall thy heart strings till they break,  
I've the engine of a babe, any man  
That had arrived at half my years, would soon  
Invent a safe way to shift that trifle  
From him. Hum, who shall I get to do't.  
Happy fancy, 'tis mature I will  
Above it straight.  Exit. Enter Depazzi, Laura, and Crispino. De. 
I sent you a Letter Madam.  Lau. 
My Lord I received it.  De. 
How did you taste it?  Lau. 
Excellently.  De. 
I have twenty as good as that lying by me, have I not  Cris. 
Oh my good Lord. (Crispino  De. 
They shall be all at your service.  Lau. 
youare too much a Courtier, I must chide you  
signior, I never did deserve the Epithets  
Your paper throws upon me.  De. 
Epithets I beseech you Madam to impute  
That to the fretfulness of my brain,  
If any thing have slipped my pen whereby I may incur  
Your ladyship's indignation I'll recant  
It publicly.  Lau. 
I enjoin no such penance,  
But 'tis an injury easily remitted,  
'tis the glory they say of Lovers to hyperbolise.  De. 
hypberbolise, what's that? I ha' not that word  
Yet in my Alphabet, I hope Madam you  
Hold a better opinion of me then to imagine  
I would hyperbolise with your Ladyship;  
That were immodest.  Lau. 
Not so signior.  De. 
By my faith Madam but it is, de think  
I know not what hyperbolizing is,  
That were simplicity, if any thing  
Within my Letter may be drawn within  
Construction of hyperbolizing, condemn  
Not me for't, by service Madam, I  
Had no intention to stretch so far  
To your dishonour, it shall teach me wit  
To write my Letters hereafter.  Cris. 
A hair in your honour's lock is disordered,  
'tis rectified,  Lau. 
signior,  
You do me much too much satisfaction,  
Your error being a small one.  De. 
'tis your favour,  
Yet when I commit a peccadillo  
Against your brightness, I deserve to be  
Extinguished your presence for't, I did love  
You Madam, as I remember when I was an Infant,  Lau. 
How.  Dep. 
We are Infants you will grant  
When we cannot speak, and I loved full eight months  
And a half ere I had power to tell you on't  
I'm certain.  Lau. 
I was not worth so much.  De. 
Nay for that Madam  
I'll show myself deserving, were you worthy  
'twere the less act of mine to love you,  
That were a poor thing, I do not stand on worth.  
Madam I would not have you think so ignobly of me,  
That I affect you for your worth, I'd rather  
Upon my honour have you in your smock,  
Than all the Ladies in the world stark naked.  Lau. 
Now your language is course.  De. 
You shall pardon me for that.  Cris. 
Your Lordship's feather waves too much toward the  
'tis now in true point. (East,  De. 
My love is pure and like the Sun transparent.  Lau. 
Now you Compliment, I know  
You're excellent at it.  De. 
Troth not I Lady,  
I cannot Compliment, I do but  
Refulgent your beauty, whose mellifluous voice  
pierces the ear— faith Madam credit me  
I ne'er could compliment in my life: Most fair,  
Whom young Apollo courted for her hair.  
There are poetical furies in the City,  
But I converse not with 'em.  
Were ever cheeks of roses, locks of amber  
Ordained to be imprisoned in a chamber,  
Laura I do but piddle, a pretender,  
I know not how to Compliment.  Lau. 
You now do.  De. 
Alas not I, I cannot make verses neither;  
Thy dainty seal of Virgin wax,  
That nothing but impression lacks.  Cris. 
Your Lordship's cloak discovers not sufficiently the riches of the inside.  Lau. 
An excellent Poet.  De. 
I'll tell you Madam a strange thing, you see  
These trifles; before I was in love, I could  
Not ha' made an acrostic in a day,  
Sometimes two.  Lau. 
Now you can make Chronograms.  De. 
I think I can, and Anagrams for a need.  Lau. 
signior you are wonderful improved,  
Love has inspired you richly. I perceive  
Cupid is a mute too.  De. 
Oh now I cannot sleep for the multitude,  
Of Verses that are capering in my skull.  Lau. 
I wonder you are not mad.  De. 
You may.  Cris. 
A hair in your honour's lock is disordered.  De. 
But I've a gift to help it, I allow  
myself set times to vent 'em, they would blow  
Me up else.  Lau, 
As how pray.  De. 
Why thus i'th' morning  
When I have said my prayers in Verse, which fall  
From me, and I ne'er think on 'em, next my heart  
I scribble out an ode, after my breakfast  
I fall upon a Satire, when I've railed  
myself into a fresh stomach, I dine,  
Which done, because it is not good to study  
Upon repletion or full stomach, you  
Understand me; for a matter of two hours  
I dream as it comports with our Italian  
To sleep, than I say, I dream familiarly  
An Heroic Poem.  Lau. 
Dream.  De. 
Madam while you live,  
Your dreaming Poets are the best, and have  
Distilled raptures, spirits that converse with 'em,  
And teach 'em what to write; this I set down  
Before I eat again, after I walk  
Upon the strength of Supper into th' park,  
And ruminate an Elegy at return,  
I do discourse of Epigrams, and an Epitaph  
Upon some one or other of my kindred.  Enter Comachio, and Giotto. 
I ha' made a rare one on my Uncle, and  
He would die shortly to deserve it.  Com. 
What's that?  Lau. 
If you so methodize your study signior  
I shall but sin against your muse, 'tis now  
Your hour by course, for your heroic Poem:  
'twere best you sleep my Lord, I'll take my leave.  De. 
Nay Madam, 'tis not every day I study  
So hard, on some I whet my muse  Cris. 
Your Lordship's weapon hangs too much a fore.  Com. 
Thou hast my bosom, treasure up my secrets  
Faithfully, and deserve I should be thine;  
Giotto, the first opportunity  
Commends thee to the Duchess, then's the time,  
To show thy gratitude, if she still look on me  
With lucky eyes.  Gio. 
My Lord you've made  
yourself the creditor of what I am;  
If I return you not the interest  
Of all my service, I should justly forfeit  
To be unmade again.  De. 
Sweet Laura, world confounding beauty.  Lau. 
Again Hyperbolising, than you Lordship  
Must pardon me.  Exit. De, 
What's the signification of this word? hum.  Cris. 
I have heard some say, to hyperbolise  
Is to lie, and it may be she would not have  
Your Lordship lie with her.  Com. 
signior de patri, what part of your discourse  
Concerned my death, I heard with Madam Laura  
You name your Uncle's dying.  De. 
'twas with grief then,  
I had no cause to name you else my Lord.  Com. 
Apply yourself Nephew to this Gentleman,  
And make him precious to you.  Exit. Gio. 
I shall study his honour's service.  De. 
Giotto.  Gio. 
My Lord.  De. 
You are a Scholar.  Gio. 
I have lost time in Padua.  De. 
I'll tell you a jest a Gentleman i'th' Court  
Writing a Letter to his Mistress could not  
Contain himself from hyperbolising with her.  Gio. 
Is your Lordship serious?  De. 
True upon my honour, what a gull 'twas  
To make himself ridiculous, I laughed at him,  
Than he asked me what that word meant, Giotto  
What do you think on't?  Gio. 
I my Lord,  
Your honour needs no comment to inform you,  
Much less my translation.  De. 
Yes I know't, but what says your Dictionary.  Gio. 
Your Lordship shall pardon me, for that hyperbolising  De. 
It is some bawdy word, he is so modest,  
Wherein did I hyperbolise with her Ladyship:  
My Lord Volterre.  Enter Volterre. Vol. 
signior de Pazzi Comesta.  De. 
I am transported to see your Lordship well.  Vol. 
Io soy il uvestra servadore.  De. 
What's this?  Gio. 
Between Goth and Vandal, Spanish.  De. 
And Giotto were not here now, I would ask him  
What were hyperbolising by your Lordship's favour.  Vol. 
Women are taken with the presence of  
A man, the garb, and ornaments of state  
Endear him to their senses, I would fain  
Appear in glorious habit can you dance?  De. 
I were no Lord else, I was a French man's Scholar,  
For twenty crowns a month, you may guess by that  
My abilities.  Vol. 
'tis the best fooling, and the safest for  
The body, your French glide away like Rivers,  
Without a noise, and turning with Meanders,  
Out move ye, your lofty tricks, are tude,  
And do too much examine.  De. 
May we not rise,  
I ha' known good dancers rise at Court, what say you to  
A cross caper.  Vol. 
Ride the Cannon, and you ha'  
No care to preserve your bonds, but I forget,  
Adios signior, I must attend the Duchess.  De. 
Do not hyperbolise with her my Lord.  Vol. 
Pardonate Signior mio.  De, 
'tis so, 'tis bawdy, that shrug tells me so, Giotto.  Gio. 
Your honour's servant.  De. 
Were you never a Courtier before.  Gio. 
I only hitherto have spent my eyesight.  
In observation, now I grow proud to write  
myself dependent.  De. 
signior Comachio my Uncle, lends you.  Gio. 
But I'm not to learn  
To adore the rising Sun, I look on him  
As in his West, but I've ambition  
To merit your grace.  De. 
I see than thou wot be a Courtier.  Enter Duchess, Comachio, Contarini, Volterre, Laura. Dutch. 
Comachio, show me your Nephew!  
You're welcome to Court my Lord.  De Pazzi kneels, kisses her hand, De. 
It is your highness' pleasure I should presume so,  
And I am confident I may.  Dutch. 
He has not only profited in growth  
Of person, but in's judgement too: talks well,  
Our Court wants such Comachio, your nephew's  
Contemplation ends here. Padua must  
Lose him, he shall be our servant.  Com. 
she jeers him, and I gain no credit by 't.  
Keep your tongue quiet, cease your abortive  
Language, or I'll cut your throat.  De. 
This is the trick of all Courtiers,  
They would engross Princes e'en to  
Themselves, I must not speak to her.  Com. 
This is the Gentleman, your grace was pleased  
T'accept from my commends.  Leads Giotto to her, who kisses her har. Dutch. 
You are a Florentine.  Gio. 
I am proud to own my Country.  Dutch. 
We have heard so much of your demerits,  
That 'twere injustice not to cherish you,  
Be confident, to gain our best favour.  Gio. 
I've often prayed for this blessed hour, and thought  
I did not sin in my ambition.  
It is a virtue to covet honour  
From your excellence: which I shall ever  
Study to deserve.  Dutch. 
Laura begin your trial.  Laura whispers with Giotto Orseollo runs in and kneels. Dutch. 
This is a rude kind of duty, speak your  
Intention.  Ors. 
Twice have I kneeled to gain your kindness in  
My suit, now grant it, or I'll turn Traitor.  Dutch. 
Make your suit known.  Ors. 
I have been bred in rugged wars,  
A woman's government is soft and fit  
For Babes to bow to, dismiss straight your Court.  Dutch. 
Orseollo, did not your offence breed mirth,  
You should perceive't more difficult to find  
A pardon for't.  Ors. 
Send me straight to Sea, if but t'encounter  
A fleet of fiends rigged by witches, or with  
A colony to settle a Plantation  
In the deserts of Barbary, I'll choose  
Any employment rather than to hear a  
Lady utter perfumed breath, or see her  
Advance in her masculine garb, in her  
New mimic posture.  Dutch. 
Leave us! but so, that in an hour's space  
We may command your presence here, to move  
Our laughter, when leisure will permit it,  
Or you shall never live to wear grey hairs.  Ors. 
I'll conspire with a constable, that commits  
justice in's sleep, ere I'll want treachery  
To revenge this constraint of service.  Exit: Com. 
Your grace will beget charity in  
Other Ladies, if you pardon this his  
Bold behaviour, for he offends all women.  Dutch. 
How Comachio.  Con. 
Does not your excellence know, he is called  
The woman hater.  Dutch. 
Deserves he that Epithet?  Vol. 
I'll show your highness the real cause, why  
He hates all women; he was ever bred  
In the camp, where there are no females, but  
sutler's wives: fit drudges, to make fierce  
Ith' devils kitchen, whose very looks  
Disparage the complexion of all their sex;  
He ne'er conversed with an Italian  
Bona Roba, a plump Lady, that fills  
Her grown, or with a French Brunette,  
A Spanish Muser umbrada, or a  
German Yefrow, the Dutch.—  De. 
Or with a Welsh—  Com. 
Parrot! will ye be prating?  De. 
What should a man do withhis tongue, an ye  
Won't let him talk.  Dutch. 
My Lord Volterre, is a copious linguist.  Vol. 
I still desire to be enabled for  
Your grace's service.  Dutch. 
Are all the sluices stopped, that we may see  
Your Cormorants dive for their prey?  Vol. 
We only want your highness' presence there,  
And the sport begins.  Dutch. 
Comachio—  She whispers. Con. 
signior? these are your Cormorants, you still  
Provide the Duchess new game, and pleasure:  
She did you public grace, this morning too  
Before the French leiger; but you ha' travailed Sir.  Vol. 
My Lord, the French conceive things with justice  
I'm but an isorit du monde, and as  
The Spaniard says, Altera, estrabajo  
Del hombre, but I've observed her grace names  
Contarini often, looks on you with  
A smooth brow.  Con. 
On me my Lord?  Dutch. 
Lead forward to the River.  Com. 
My hopes do still increase, fate smiles on me.  Dutch. 
signior De Patri, be you near us.  Exit. Volt. Dep. Contar. Com. Dutch. Lau. 
Y'ave heard her graces will, this is the first  
Employment. She knows you Florentines  
Insinuate with great subtlety in  
Humane natures.  Gio. 
She shall receive each man in's just character,  Lau. 
Sir I congratulate your new fortune,  
You'll find her excellence a noble mistress.  Gio. 
You are a gentle Lady, and add much  
Credit to her Court.  Laura. 
We shall lose the sport unless we hasten  
To the River.  Gio. 
You have use of my attendance, and I am  
Happy in't.  Exeunt Omnes.  

Actus 3. Scaen. 1.  Enter Giotto, Duchess, Laura, Carintha. Dutch. 
YOu now shall stay at Court Carintha, see  
Her very lips look black. Saturn's issue.  
Were not so dull and sullen.  Lau. 
Madam sh'as great motives unto sadness  
Which I've been earnest with her to reveal,  
But she conceals 'em as the usurer doth  
His treasure: striving to beguile noise,  
And lessen the number of his bags with  
His report.  Gio. 
Lady, too soon you will deprive the world  
Of your dear presence, if thus early you  
Consume your hours in pensive thoughts!  Dutch. 
Carintha, have I not power to increase  
Your grief; if you conceal the cause of it  
From me?  Car. 
I am not sad, my faculties preserve  
Their wonted harmony: your excellence  
Will not enforce me to belie my passion.  Enter Volterre. Lau. 
There's my Lord Volterre, is't your grace's  
Pleasure to retire till we have ended  
Our discovery.  Dutch. 
Is he come? Carintha, follow me!  Exeunt Duchess, Carintha. Vol. 
She gave the game high applause, and begged two  
Of my Cormorants: I must invent new  
Sports to delight her fancy.  Lau. 
The day afford your Lop much profit.  Gio. 
If your Lop be in good health, ye owe  
Some thanks unto my prayers.  Vol. 
Laura, the Duchess great favourite  
Giotto, is eminent in Court too.  
If these afford me such respect I've cause  
To think my stars faithful? Madam I would  
Kiss your left hand—  Lau. 
I beseech your lip enforce me not  
To be unmannerly you are now above  
My conversation.  Vol. 
How bright Laura. Signior Giotto.  
Pray clear this mystery.  Gio. 
My Lord, be more particular, for my  
Own part I know my distance, but you greet  
Your Fortunes with too much humility,  
You want state to converse with me.  Vol. 
I me all wonder and amazement signior,  
Pray give your meaning more perspicuous  
Utterance.  Gio. 
Will you forget to be reserved, know your  
Station, you make me bold against my own  
Desire.  Vol. 
how's this?  Gio. 
I implore your Lordship leave I may be  
Covered, 'twould much assist my health.  Vol. 
Why, dost keep thy head bore in reverence  
To me? Madam, shall I entreat?—  Lau. 
'tis in your power to command, in my  
Duty to obey.  Vol. 
Your duty—  Gio. 
It seems he hath not yet; how much the  
Duchess favours him— Volterre listens.  Lau. 
I conjecture so for e's differs much  
From that which he must practise when he's Duke  Vol. 
I hear ye—  Lau. 
How my Lord?  Vol. 
Laura, faith be public! Giotto, why  
Dost thou conceal the means to make thee  
Happy?—  Gio. 
My Lord I know little, only those that  
Wait near the Duchess, hear her often praise  
Your nimble tongue, your skill in languages.  Vol. 
Phse questo mionto, what would you say,  
There me interpret the inarticulate  
Voices of birds, and beasts, that skill deserved  
A fame.  Gio. 
Your Lordship might then (with great ease) been  
Interpreter to the bvilders of Babel.  Lau. 
Something I've heard her grace speak too, in praise  
Of your French gesture, your sublime frisk, and  
Odd conveyance of your body.  Gio. 
'tis when your Lordship wreathes your hams in thus.  Vol. 
Ta da rum, ta da rum, te re re, ra da rum.  He dances. Gio. 
These are the postures that inchant your sex.  
Lady—  Lau. 
I cannot blame the Duchess to be fond.  Gio. 
But does not your lop grow weary with  
Continuance of this motion?  Vol. 
It is my vulgar exercise ta da rum, ta da rum.  Gio. 
Enough, enough, my good Lord, sure your swim  
Within your doublet.  Vol. 
Giotto, now I am fit for a race,  
Never tired. It has been thought by some (skilled  
In th' ability of my person) that  
I'm mortal.  Gio. 
Indeed sir 'tis not fit you should expect  
Much in heaven, having such joy on earth.  
You are more than happy, this Lady knows it.  Vol. 
Dost i'faith Laura—  Lau. 
Sir, I hope when you shall sit invested  
With Royal ornaments, you'll not disdain  
Laura for your humble servant.  Gio. 
And Giotto knows that your Religion  
Will not permit you slight industry.  Vol. 
I took part o' my breeding i'th' French Court,  
And there I learned to be familiar  
With my Nobles.  Lau. 
Did not I say he would govern gently,  
Now can't my tongue be quiet, I must tell him all.  Gio. 
Nay Madam—  Vol. 
Giotto, dost concern you to hinder  
This her kindness? speak dear Lady.  Lau. 
My Lord I affect truth and brevity,  
I am commanded by her grace to make  
Your visits private to her.  Vol. 
Hah, forward dear Laura.  Gio. 
Why sir, it is her highness' will that you  
Conceal these visits.  Lau. 
And let no encouragement neither from  
Her eyes nor speech embolden ye to think  
Unlawful, her favours you must take  
With silent observation.  Enter Comachio. Gio. 
Here comes my Lord Comachio. Away signior  
He must not see you.  Vol. 
Yo soy mug juoderose.  Exe. Volterre, Laura Gio. 
My noble Patron.—  Com. 
I greet thee as my best genius, thouart now  
Mixed i'th' number with such as wear my title,  
Thou climbest apace, yet safely too; they strive  
At Court, who first shall be the flatterer:  
What female was't that left thee now? I saw  
Part of her gown.  Gio. 
The Lady Laura.  Com. 
Thou art most happy, skilful in thy choice  
Of conversation: why she governs  
Her highness' heart. Didst question her  
About my business?  Gio. 
I know all, she cannot hide a single  
Thought from me.  Com. 
Thart strangely powerful o'er Ladies,  
But what said she? have I no Rival in  
The Duchess love.  Gio. 
Sir, she owns none but you, with a public  
Confidence, only there is own impediment.  Com. 
What is't? prithee give't relation?  Gio. 
A spirit not tamed by his religion  
Would hazard much rather than suffer it  
Endanger such a hope.  Com. 
Make it no more a secret.  Gio. 
Could ye think she has observed your Nephew  
With an amorous eye.  Com. 
De pazzi, my Nephew?  Gio. 
That's the man sir, who is so much obliged  
Unto her memory.  Com. 
'Sdeath this inclines so near miracle  
'twould tax my judgement to believe it;  
Confer her love upon a fool.  Gio. 
Pardon me sir! I do not positively  
Say she loves him. I make it (for your sake)  
A cautelous suspect your jealous men  
Strive against danger.  Com. 
I do affect thy discipline.  Gio. 
This morning she desired to speak with him.  Com. 
To speak with him- good our brains are near us,  
Ere thou admitst him to her presence, we'll  
Furnish him with discourse, preposterous  
Unto sense, and her demands; so make him  
More cheap in her conception, here he comes.  Enter De Pazzi. 
Assist my prayers.  De. 
signior Uncle,  Com. 
Nephew opportunely  
signior Giotto hath taken pains  
To bring us knowledge of new graces, which  
Our Duchess stores up for you, I am proud  
To think what honour all our blood receives  
From you, the top bough of our family:  
I never hoped there could be stars in heaven  
So auspicious, as I behold now shining,  
And pointing all their golden beams on you,  
The Duchess loves you—  De pazzi, hum. Gio. 
Not carelessly, and with that common favour,  
She does divide among the Courtiers,  
They do but glean her scattered graces,  
For you the harvest's reserved and brought  
Home to your bosom.  De pazzi hums. Com. 
Other with much labour.  
climb this high rock, upon whose swelling top,  
The Duchess smiles are placed, yet obtain not  
One to reward their sweat.  De pazzi hums. Gio. 
But her own hand  
Reaches you up, and tempts you to enjoying  
The pyramids' height, you may ascend by stairs,  
And mount with ease unto that happiness,  
Others adore afar off.  De. 
Does the Duchess  
Affect me honourably, and for marriage otherwise?  Com. 
That makes the Music high, it were not else  
So ravishing, you are the man marked out  
To be the Duke Depazzi.  Gio. 
That's her desire,  
She would not like a thief steal joys, but make  
The pleasures lawful, nuptial holy rites,  
Ushering your felicity, you must be  
Her Husband signior, and all we your subjects,  
Obsequious to your nod, when you have breath  
To raise t'unlimited height, and uncreate  
Whom you would frown upon.  De. 
I see she is wise,  Com. 
How will Comachio think his age blessed, to see  
Princes borne to his Nephew, and with breath  
Covetous to expire in prayers for them.  Gio. 
Kneel there great Uncle,  
I have an ambition  
If you think not the honour over great,  
To beg tuition of your second son,  
Whom I should study to bring up, with such  
Choice education, as shall become  
The greatness of his soul and birth.  De. 
'tis granted, my second son is thine, but are you sure  
I am ordained to be the man you talk of;  
Must I be craned up to that altitude.  Gio. 
My Lord  
You may be confident, Giotto dares not  
Play with your greatness, and my dare was never  
Yet so incertain, when I hear your name  
So sweetened by your Duchess breath.  De. 
No more, I have a strong faith, 'tis so, for my Uncle  
Doth practise already his observance, I  
Purpose to visit our loving Duchess.  Gio. 
Nay you will be sent for and be courted to  
That was intimated.  Com. 
But my honoured Nephew  
Would you admit instructions, for I see  
With how much envy of the Court you rise  
To this high sphere of sovereignty, be prudent,  
Arm yourself with some excellent discourses (thoughts.  
For your first parley, you shall knit her soul to your own  Gio. 
If my abilities may do you service.  Com. 
Giotto, you are furnished to read Lectures  
To us both of Courtship, and I know my Nephew  
Will gratefully remember, what you add  
To raise him to our wishes.  Gio. 
I desire to be a bankrupt of knowledge, when  
My portion may enrich you.  De. 
Should you lose  
Your brain signior in my service, you  
Should find I would requite you.  Com. 
At his first entrance to her grace's presence  
Something new and sublime, t'insinuate  
How much she hath consulted with her best  
Wisdom, when she elected one so meriting,  
To be her husband.  Gio. 
So with one argument  
He magnifies her judgement, and his worth.  De. 
I like that well, if you do pen that speech  
Commend me pray unreasonable, I shall study it.  Gio. 
That must be, to this we may guess she will  
Reply, my Lord, I could miss in such a troop  
Of Deservers to choose out the ablest.  
Meaning my Nephew.  De. 
I know that, who else?  Gio. 
Hence take you fresh occasions to extol  
yourself, and be not nice to let her know  
Your active blood, and spirit to get Princes,  
How much the people will be bound to bless  
Her race in choosing you, whose promising body  
Is able to incite them to make bonfires  
For Dukes unborn.  De. 
Great reason, proceed.  Gio. 
It will be necessary you disparage all men  
That are about her, though your Uncle, he  
Will suffer to advance you.  Com. 
Who my Nephew?  De. 
Let me alone to disgrace him.  Gio. 
It gives you lustre principally remember  
To rail against her Ladies, call 'em hags,  
You cannot be too bitter, this secures  
Your love toth' Duchess, beats of jealousy  
When you appear to love her only of  
All the sex.  De. 
It will be a good occasion to beat off  
Laura, to whom I did pretend myself  
A Lover excellent, pray let me have all these  
Directions in manuscripts, I'll not see her  
Till they be rotten in my head.  Com. 
Giotto, bind us both to you, this will do't,  
Art cannot shape him more ridiculous,  
These are rare principles. Here's Contarini.  Enter Contarini, Dandalo. Gio. 
Remove yourselves: 'tis not fit he see ye.  Exeunt Comachio, Depazzi. 
signior Contarini, your minute is expired.  Con. 
I crave your pardon signior, have you learned  
From Laura ought that concerns my knowledge.  Gio. 
I have cause to entreat my intelligence.  
I am your pensioner, you have enriched  
My stable with a Barbary roan.  
A gift I am ignorant to requite;  
I must return great thanks too, from the  
Lady Laura, for the wealthy carcanet  
You sent her last night.  Con. 
I me yet indebted to you both: signior  
You are skilled in my affair: the noise still  
Continue, our great Duchess will elect  
A husband from her own Court, I'll only  
Know the man; that so I may direct my  
Observance the right way, you will call this  
An honest policy.  Gio. 
Your contemplations are too humble.  Con. 
You signior?  Gio. 
Ere I would think another worthier than  
myself, to bear a sovereign title;  
I would disclaim my judgement and run mad.  
But there's a cross bar to your ambition,  
(Heaven excuse my sorrow for it?) you are  
Married, you have a wife.  Con. 
Sir, I beseech you give your meaning more expression  Gio. 
Has the Duchess any name within her memory,  
So much as Contarinies?  
Are not you he whose feature she admires?  
Nay Sir, it is not long since Laura heard  
Her wish you were unmarried: Interpret  
My relation as you please;  
But you know Princes are reserved. What's he?  
My servant signior, he has modest ears  
And a quiet tongue. Dandalo, you may  
Stay here, I shall use thy consent in a business.  Dan. 
I wait your pleasure.  Con. 
But did her grace wish I were unmarried?  Gio. 
By no iteration that breeds noise.  Con. 
Well, I allow of her graces wish.  Gio. 
How my Lord?  Con. 
If my marriage discontent her highness:  
I wish I had no wife—  Gio. 
He has a noble soul! is there no way  
To avoid this trifle called a wife.  Con. 
Yes signior, there are ways, but—  Gio. 
O sir, discharge your mind, it concerns my  
Prefer to be faithful.  Con. 
Troth, were all impediments cleared, I think  
We two should rule equally;  
I'm strangely fond to those I love.  Gio. 
signior you have given me cause to know it.  Con. 
If I could sue out a divorce——  Gio. 
I signior, but the judge grants nonē without a  
lawful cause.  Con. 
she shall commit adultery.  Gio. 
With whom?  Con. 
Giotto, that I am come to tell thee.  
she's a beauteous Lady, soft and buxom?  
Thou shalt lie with her.  Gio. 
ay, my Lord?  
'twere an endearment too great for my requital.  Con. 
'tis decreed, come, it must be so.  Gio. 
signior, I shall beg your pardon.  Con. 
I keep my mercy for another use,  
Suspect no danger, you shall come disguised  
When you woo her too't, which done, the Duchess  
Shall help my procurement of a divorce:  
Why, I knew before, her highness loved me!  
I have received favours from her looks and and speech.  Gio. 
Does not your man listen?  Con. 
No matter, he's our confederate.  
Dandalo know this Gentleman's hands  
And kiss 'em often.  Dan. 
I'm his humble creature.  Gio. 
I shall be glad to show you kindness.  Con. 
Let's perfect our design, good signior  
I have no leisure now to ruminate,  
I affect action.  Exeunt. Enter Laura, Carintha, Sancho. San. 
Madam, I ha' signified to my Lord  
What you commanded, but I hope your Ladyship  
Hath heard his disposition.  Lau. 
He's not reconciled to our sex,  
He has proclaimed that.  San. 
This place breeds no Ladies,  
No not for civil entertainment, we  
Have not a woman in the house, their pictures  
Which adorn other galleries, you see  
Tempt not the eye here, all his offices  
Discharged by men, he says where he commands  
He must not see a woman.  Car. 
What not strangers?  San. 
Such is his will.  Lau. 
How then?  San. 
If you desire his presence and discourse,  
You must be veiled here Madam, his own eye  
Must not be witness to what face he speaks,  
I'm but his servant.  Lau. 
Tell him I'll expect him in that form hen  
Prescribes.  San. 
The other Lady too  
Must be clouded, then I'll let his Lordship  
Know you're prepared.  Lau. 
Pray do Madam, I hope  
Your discontent will give you leave to smile  
At this, her grace found you but this employment,  
With me, to beat your melancholy off,  
Apply to the occasion.  Car. 
My gratitude will teach me to conform.  Enter Orseollo, Sancho. Ors. 
Now Ladies what's your pleasures, that you summon  
My appearance, I know ye ha' supple joints,  
What mystery of state sends you to me?  
I cannot revel in long stockings, frisk  
To please your wanton eyesight; I ne'er boasted  
'My ribs, or largeness of my thighs, t' invite you;  
I make no Sonnets of your antic dressings,  
Cry up your colour of your face, and swear  
You're divine pieces, for I know you are not:  
I will not draw heavens curse upon me, for  
Flattering into pride; say that the Lilies,  
Are pale, for envy of your white, and the Roses  
Blush, to see better in your cheeks, your hair  
Beams, rather drawn up to a net, might catch  
jove when he played the Eagle; that your breasts  
Raise up themselves like two fair Mountainers  
Ith' pleasant vale of temptation, I hate this  
I will not damn myself to make you proud,  
Do not, I know your faces?  Lau. 
Ours, we are not ashamed to show 'em.  Ors. 
Do not unveil.  San. 
Good Madam.  Car. 
Will you not see what you condemn?  Ors. 
I'm gone, if you attempt to let me seem  
A piece of any countenance; while I thus  
Look on ye, I can help myself t'imagine  
Ye are some other creatures.  Lau. 
Troth my Lord, for pity to yourself  
End your invectives;  
Madam I told you of this mirth.  Car. 
Can he be serious?  Ors. 
Wrack me not with your stay,  
What's the design hath brought you hither?  Lau. 
This signior; 'tis the Duchess pleasure  
You make sudden repair to Court.  Ors. 
I?  Lau. 
That's our Embassy.  Ors. 
I am no Court physician, I but vex  
Your female constitutions, you know  
All my receipts are bitter, and her excellence  
Hath plenty of those, she gives a pension to  
Can flatter; why does she send for me am so  
Unwelcome?  Lau. 
My Lord, her grace employs  
Not me to any so unhappy:  
And though you have not lived so near the favour,  
Ith' eye of the Court, which your own humour too  
May have been the cause, I have no honour, if  
You find yourself unwelcome,  Ors. 
'tis a mystery.  Lau. 
I could instruct you further with a secret,  
Your soul would dance to know, but I confess  
'tis more than my commission:  Ors. 
Is there in nature any happiness for men?  Lau. 
And from a woman: you will come my Lord?  Ors. 
Stay, from a woman, ha? the Duchess—  
Heard a noise she would choose a Lover from  
Her own Court, can it be that? death I haven  
Been boundless in my railing. I begin  
To curse myself for't.  San. 
Be all silence,  
Thou hast a knowledge will be dangerous  
To any hope, perhaps, I could be pleased  
To see the tip o' your nose Lady,  
Or the mole upon your chin.  Lau. 
You will have cause to bless the occasion  
Of this day's message.  Ors. 
I could see your cheek,  
Nay half your face for t'other syllable.  
Lady you can say more,  Car. 
I dare not signior, already we have exceeded.  Ors. 
I know such creatures cannot mock, sweet Lady.  Lau. 
Have you not heard her grace's resolution,  
Touching a husband?  Ors. 
You are o'er dark still, every me,  Lau. 
I hope your honour will remember this poor service when 'tis done.  Ors. 
What? one Letter of your meaning.  Lau. 
My Lord the Duchess loves you.  Ors. 
Ha?  Lau. 
Come Madam, I shall say you will wait.  Ex. Ors. 
Shall I not see the faces,  
To which I owe my blessedness.  San. 
No words of those loose creatures in your custody,  
Seal up the doors, still the air lest that  
Creep out too soon, and kill my growing fate.  Exeunt.  

Actus 4. Scaen. 1.  Enter Duchess, Laura, Carintha. Dut. 
WAs not Orseollo's humour, recreation  
To thee Carintha?  Car. 
I spent all my thoughts  
In wonder Madam.  Dutch. 
He began to soften—  Lau. 
We tamed his Tiger violence, not Magic  Enter Giotto. 
Could force him like the charm you sent.  Dutch. 
Giotto? What speaks your haste?  Geo. 
Comachio Madam, and signior Depazzi.  Dutch. 
Usher 'em in.  Car. 
Something in such a plenty may delight  
Your dulled fancy.  Enter Depazzi, Comachio. De. 
Laura, remove yourself,  
Do not eclipse the splendour of that Sun.  
My eagle's eye must gaze at. Uncle know  
Your distance.  Dutch. 
signior Depazzi.  De. 
Giotto, my hand again, be proud, now Madam  
I address myself to you, wonderful Princess,  
Not so much for your beauty as your wisdom,  
Your carnal wisdom.  Dutch 
Wherein signior.  Com. 
Good.  De. 
Right you answer, right it is my qu:  
Your carnal wisdom Madam, you proclaim  
In choosing out a husband, and that man  
Whose memory your subjects shall have cause  
To curse, is I.  Dutch. 
To curse?  De. 
Perfect still, have cause to curse,  
You did no sooner choose him, which of all  
Your fair Lords, though you look asquint upon  
My merit, could your eye pick out more able?  
Heroic, complete, tempting? I am fleshed,  
Nothing shall put me out.  Gio. 
Observe.  De. 
Your grace says right, I do acknowledge it.  Gio. 
You are too hasty, her grace says nothing.  De. 
Did your grace say nothing? speak it again,  
I know you meant to say something to th' purpose.  Dutch. 
What purpose signior?  De. 
Now she has put me quite out.  Gio. 
Then rail upon your Uncle.  De. 
Look on him Madam, there he stands, you may  
Perhaps imagine him for his grey beard  
And a starched face, that he is wise a statist:  
I'll bring ye a justice, that's but newly packed  
Into commission, o'th' peace, shall make  
An ass on him.  Com. 
Nephew, this will make you odious.  De. 
A very gull in mystery of state,  
A most egregious— in comparison  
Of one that I could name, but he may serve  
To fright the pages, muster the black guard,  
Or keep the door at masks, his face will do  
More than a hundred others; yet now I think on't,  
Your grace shall magnify your favour to me,  
And let me beg him.  Dutch. 
Ha, ha.  Com. 
I hope your grace will pardon him, these fits  
Are ever at full Moon.  Lau. 
Beg your Uncle signior?  De. 
Yes I would furnish him with an  
Hourglass and a scythe;  
And sell him to the Masons for the picture  
Of time, Madam, would he not show well?  Dutch. 
This is witty, what detractor  
Gave out signior Comachio, your Nephew  
Had no rich brain, Carintha, do you nold him  
Laura, Comachio, ha?  De. 
Giotto, she has put me out again,  Gio. 
Then rail upon her Ladies,  De. 
Hum, when I contemplate on your highness' face  
I hate all others.  Com. 
Can your excellence.  Dutch. 
Why, is mine so bad?  De. 
I beseech your grace, speak your part right,  
Oblivion is my qu. I do remember.  Com. 
Madam Carintha, speak to her grace.  De. 
Has Madam Laura such I lip or eye?  
I do confess she has a nose, but I  
Pass over it.  Gio. 
He makes a bridge of that,  De. 
Her cheeks,—  Com. 
Nephew— Madam I humbly pray I may remove  
This rudeness, 'tis a discord must needs grate  
Your soft ear,  De. 
Uncle you are out now, her cheeks.  Lau. 
Well signior, what of my cheeks.  De. 
Why your cheeks are, as they are, death, I ha' forgot.  
This 'tis when you won't come t'rehearsal.  Lau. 
My cheeks are  
Such as creation framed 'em, and the colour  
Is nature's gift.  De. 
It had need be gift, I know none so prodigal  
To be at charge to buy 'em, yet you thought  
I was in love w'ye, I confess I did  
Once cherish an opinion you were something  
About a gipsy, and might serve in Lent  
When flesh was rare, but you must take into  
Your thoughts, I meant not honestly, you see  
For whom fate hath reserved me, be as patient  
As such a loss will suffer you, do not mar  
Your face, cause I condemn it, it may serve  
Some hungry signior, or some City heir  
That would be dabbled in nobility,  
And pay for his cornuting.  Dutch. 
He is most witty Carintha.  Com. 
Giotto, she is taken with this imprudence,  
What dulness hangs upon her soul? some fatal  
Apoplexy seize him, that which we  
Plotted to make him hateful does enchant her.  De. 
Madam, you see I have a body, ponderous  
And full of marrow, I'll not get an heir  
Less hopeful than myself, my first son shall be  
An Emperor borne, may I do things to purpose  
When I am in once.  Com. 
Will not this startle her?  Lau. 
Sure Madam, he will put down Hercules.  De. 
Hercules, Hercules, what, a Pedlar.  Gio. 
Pedlar, my Lord you would say piddler.  De. 
He shall be what I please, do not I know Hercules,  
He got but fifty in a night, but I—  
Madam your ear.  Com. 
My duty to your grace, makes me forget  
He is my kinsman.  Dutch. 
Signior Depazzi,  
We have leisure to hear you finish your discourse  
With Laura and Carintha.  Com. 
He's courted to her privacy, her soul is  
In a deep Lethargy.  Gio. 
Ha?  
What was intended to destroy his hope,  
Hath raised him to assurance, she applauds  
That which to all understanding but her own,  
Appears prodigious, did you suspect  
She would hear this prate?  Com. 
He had committed sin enough to have had  
His lips sowed up eternally, death, I could  
Grow into death with wonder.  Gio. 
She checked you for interrupting.  Com. 
A fury revels in my brain, she's mad,  
And so am I, but—  Gio. 
What for prevention,  
If she have such a poverty in her reason,  
Ith' humour she may marry him, and then  
Beside the mighty fortune lost, you groan  
Under his tyranny.  Com. 
In his blood I'll bathe  
My fears, a ship launched forth with all her wings,  
Be calmed thus.  Gio. 
I'll dig the remora  
That hangs upon the bark, this fool would not  
Be missed among the living, rather than—  Com. 
thouart my genius sacred director  
To my bliss.  Gio. 
I ha' so much suffering  
In your ungentle stars, that I would purchase  
Their better influence with my danger.  Com. 
How I feel my heart incorporate with thine,  
What do I owe to heaven for sending me  
Thy friendship, say, shall this thing be removed,  
Giotto, that so ruins me.  Gio. 
Shall: there is  
A most severe necessity, you must not  
Be conscionable now; and charity  
Unto yourself, will drown the sin:  Enter Depazzi, Laura. 
Retort disgrace t'your hate.  De. 
I shall extend my favour, where I see  
Merit invite, perhaps commend you to  
Some other Lord; Uncle, you shall continue  
Your place; Giotto find out a monopoly,  
It shall be signed.  Com. 
I congratulate your high fortune,  
I knew 'twould take.  Exit. De. Com. Enter Orseollo, Sancho. Lau. 
Here's a pretty front,  
signior Orseollo, stay till I am valid.—  Ors. 
Nay, good Madam, I can endure to see  
Your face, without danger to my eyes— signior  
Giotto, I joy in your great fortunes.  Gio. 
They shall enable me to do you service.  Lau. 
My Lord, you cherish my instructions,  
You're come earlier than your hour.  Ors 
I'd fain know my destiny; Madam I'm rough.  
The wars have spoiled my Courtship; I cannot  
Flatter kindness from you; but I affect  
Gratitude. What news Lady, hah? has there  
Been no mention of my name or person  
Since I received your last intelligence?  Lau. 
I know nothing but what I am enjoined  
To make a secret.  Ors. 
How dear Lady.  Lau. 
Giotto, shall I tell him that?  Gio. 
Not for both the Indies.  Ors. 
But she shall Giotto, she and we be kind,—  
Madam,— we three will share in all achievements.  Lau. 
I cannot hide it from him.  Gio. 
Are you weary of your life Lady?  
My hopes are finished.  Lau. 
The Duchess has commanded him to get  
Your picture for her.  Gio. 
Who'd trust a secret in a woman's breast?  
My Lord, as you esteem our loves useful  
Let no ear enjoy this but your own.  Ors. 
I will forget I heard it; ay, I me a soldier  
signior, and shall deserve your faith. Sancho!  San. 
My Lord!  Ors. 
There's a famous Painter sojourns here  
In Mantua, a German!  San. 
Shadan wierex.  Ors. 
The same, you are to seek him out, I have  
Use for him.  Gio. 
Already you begin to make it public.  Ors. 
Do not suspect my servant's silence, I  
Trust him with a secret of weightier  
Consequence than this, my creature! hunk:  Lau. 
Your hopes increase signior.  Ors. 
Give me thy hand, Giotto, thine too:  
we'll govern like the Triumveri—  Lau. 
But sir, there is one obstacle—  Ors. 
What is't?  Gio. 
I'll lose a Thumb to have it cleared.  Ors. 
Heart, let me but know't?  Lau. 
You've heretofore appeared so boisterous  
And sullen to that sex, that the Duchess  
Partly thinks—  Ors. 
What does she think?  Lau. 
You're insufficient.  Ors. 
How? a metaphrase upon that word.  Gio. 
Sir 'twould impeach her modesty t'express  
Her meaning, i'th' blunt dialect, however  
'twill become my tongue; there's a noise amongst  
The Ladies, you're insufficient: that is  
Your genitals want the perfect help in  
Procreation.  Ors. 
Horror, horror, name the author of this  
Calumny.  Gio. 
Be not so loud signior, were it a truth  
'twould not proclaim nature, or your parents  
Guilty, you are a soldier, perhaps in  
A skirmish at Lepauto, some Turk  
Circumcised you with his scimitar;  
Or being at push a pike, you might be  
Drilled below the navel, nay I ha' known  
The breath of a bullet snatch a remnant  
Of loose flesh.  Ors. 
'Sdeath insufficient! you shall know a secret  
Which I have feared, even i'th' keeping o' my own heart.  Gio. 
'twill trouble me to know a thing, so full  
Of danger.  Ors. 
'tis only dangerous to me, but sir,  
It must out, for I'll stifle now this damned  
Aspersion. It reveals the cause, why I  
Was still a satire against women.  Lau. 
ay, that I would fain know.  Ors. 
Know what Lady? we are in a discourse, merely,  
Concerns us two, walk aside, she must not hear't.  
Sancho, I now release off the Oath,  
Which did oblige your secrecy about  
My continence, nay good Madam, troth we  
desire to be particular.  Lau. 
Hereafter I shall grow reserved too.  Ors. 
A personal secret, as I'm a soldier.  Gio. 
You shall believe him Lady for my sake.  Ors. 
How many whores hast thou in keeping for my use?  San. 
Some ten my Lord!  Gio. 
You pass my belief.  Ors. 
'Las, I'm insufficient! a mere Eunuch, I.  Gio. 
But what urged your invectives 'gainst the Sex,  
Since you thus cherish them in private!  Ors. 
The Duchess has a chaste court: 'twas safety  
To disguise m'incontinence, lest she should  
Punish it.  Gio. 
You're not so ravenous (my Lord) but when  
Your friend desires a taste, he may be furnished, hah?  Ors. 
You shall visit my seraglio, and chose your whore.  Gio. 
May I presume—  Ors. 
That's the medicinal pimp; who prescribes  
Plasters for my belly.  Gio. 
You maintain him in a gaudy outside.  Ors. 
His sins maintain him; those of his function.  
Grow mighty now adays.  Gio. 
Lady you shall share in our secret,  Ors. 
Are you mad signior?  Gio. 
My Lord you are to modest: there's no error  
So readily excused by Ladies as this  
O'th' blood. Fame has abused our noble friend:  
Not Hercules was more enabled for  
Increase; then he.  Lau. 
Indeed signior?  Gio. 
Indeed? why Madam, do you doubt that I  
Bely him, I'm sure he keeps ten whores.  Ors. 
'slight, you are treacherous.  Gio. 
She cries indeed, as if she did suspect  
You can proffer like a Goat, and perform  
Like an Elephant.  Lau. 
This was you that railed against women.  
Fie my Lord.  Ors. 
Troth Madam, my constitution is to blame.  
But a young sinner deserves mercy.  Gio. 
Your lustiness redress you more hopeful  
To the state. Give me a Prince from whose loins  
We may expect issue.  Ors. 
Howsoever I would not have the Duchess know  
Of this; till I am more endear unto  
Her heart.  Gio. 
Does not her happiness, and mine depend  
Upon your fate?  
My Lord, be confident of my silence.  
Her grace is now in the privy garden.  
Walk you thither, and receive those favours,  
Her looks administer: without reply  
Of gratitude, she would not have it known  
She loves you.  Ors. 
Enough I shall be politic.  Exeunt Orseollo, Sancho, Lau. 
Was there ever such a wanton Hypocrite?  Gio. 
He Neighs like a horse. I am not cozened  
In him, I still thought he was a lecher.  Enter Contarini. Con. 
signior Giotto.  Gio. 
My good Lord?—  Lau. 
'tis my chief blessing to see your Lordship  
In good health—  Con. 
I thank you noble Lady.  Lau. 
I'll go pray to have it still continued.  Exit. Con. 
What means this great observance, 'tis beyond  
My merit. Dost not admire her grace's  
Favourite should use me thus?  Gio. 
These female Courtiers ha' the trick on't.  Con. 
What signior?  Gio. 
'tis safe Idolatry to bow unto  
The rising son, she sees your fortune smile,  
And therefore flatters ye.  
Heaven knows, I near  
Shall gain by Courtship, I  
Though all the Heralds  
Called thee Duke, I'll not kiss your hand  
Unless 'twere clean.  Con. 
Thou hast heard some news.  
Declare, come, declare,  
And prosper.  Gio. 
My Lord, I first should chide your tardiness  
In action. First now I saw your wife at Court,  
Attending on the Duchess: Only she  
Defeats your hope; yet her removal from  
Your bed is not designed.  Con. 
I have sent her to my house, provided you  
A rare disguise which you shall wear, and woo  
Her body to the dark deed, my man shall  
Witness her adultery; and I'll sue out  
A divorce; whilst you remain safe from law,  
Because not known to her.  Gio. 
Why this I like, it tastes of sublime wit.  Enter Orseollo. Ors. 
I will be active in my reign, in large  
My Duchy. Genon is proud, it shall  
Grow humble I have a long arm, 'twill reach  
Florence. Or if I chance to lay my hand on Parma  
I shall gripe it till my fist ache, ere I  
Forsake my tenure.  Con. 
Orseollo.  Ors. 
Your greet's too familiar!  Con. 
From whence this pride, I'll anger him.  
My Lord, though I am grown above the use  
Of Poetry, there still remains in my  
Remembrance a Sonnet, made in praise of  
Women; Which if you'll please to hear—  Ors. 
He had a bold Muse, that durst undertake  
So high an argument, sure a woman  
Was the object, struck old Homer blind;  
And for his eyes left him a Muse. I've lost  
My business.  Exit. Con. 
He was not wont to speak so well of women.  Gio. 
No humorist is constant to dislike,  
Or commendation.  
Nay lead the way my Lord:  
I'm part of your attendance.  Exeunt. Omnes. Enter Volterre, Depazzi, Crispino. Vol. 
signior my affairs hither require haste,  
The Duchess (on some sudden cause) hath sent for me.  De. 
I believe 'tis to take's advise about  
A Masine for my wedding, he's excellent  
At Revels. On my good Lord.—  Vol. 
You come lately from her, and I would know,  
How you approve her present looks. 'tis the Art  
Of foreign Courtiers to visit Princes,  
In lucky minutes; when their gesture shows  
'em pleasant. How looks her grace today: Is,  
She not physical, but high and jocund?  De. 
You may without danger of your fortune  
Choose this minute for conference with her grace.  
signior th'as cause to clear her looks; Her thoughts  
Grow easy to her, she had found out the man;  
The man, that must: more might be said: but then  
More must be spoke—  Vol. 
'slight; why this to me; how comes he to know  
That I am he, her highness aims at? True  
The man is known: nor is his worth concealed.  De. 
Worth signior!— None but Laura gave him  
Notice, I'm the man, I near spoke of it  
myself. My Lord, the man may with safety  
Boast, he is the best deserver in the Court. hum.  Vol. 
Your Lordship does him too much right, 'tis certain,  
He has been told that I am he.  De. 
He hath a glorious feature too.  Vol. 
Nay good signior, comely; but not glorious.  De. 
How not glorious, speak that again.  Vol. 
This is a pretty kind of flattery,  
He will not suffer me to abuse myself.  
I'll admit he charms the Ladies? or so—  De. 
That's I; for I charm the Ladies. He knows  
I shall be Duke, it cannot be concealed.  Vol. 
The man has travailed too.  De. 
Never I. But it seems the Duchess gives  
It out so: the more to honour her choice  
signior; I must do you justice; the Court  
Speaks you most accurate, i'th' Spanish garb.  Vol. 
The Spaniards (signior) reserves all passion,  
To express his feeling in accurances  
Of state, when in discourse; his Toothpick still  Reaches out a Toothpick, 
Is his parenthesis: which he doth manage  
Subtly thus— Par les santos sennor—  
Lo conosco portierto— porque es  
Trabaso (conlicenzia diuvestra alteza)  
Hablas muchas palabeas—  
No puedo en veridad—  De. 
But why those things signior?  Vol. 
This elevation o'th' shoulders is a  
Politic gesture, declares a meaning hid;  
Which you may find out if you can: and is  
Often used in trivial circumstances.  
I question this your Man——  Cris. 
Your Lordship must speak my mother's tongue then.  Vol. 
Is Don Diego within?  De. 
Stay slave, we'll be as politic as he—  
Which don Diego do you mean? he that played  
The sloven in the great Church. The English  
Have a Proverb on him.  Vol. 
Why not he of Valder, or any other Diego?  De. 
Be not enraged (my Lord) those grave shrugs appear  
Unmannerly, and would before Ladies,  
Engender a suspect of vermin.  Vol. 
Then I'll prefer (sir) the French to your  
Dislike or praise: whom though a surly Don,  
Calls an impertinent people; giddy  
Trifles? yet in my esteem they merit  
Highly. They are active even in discourse  
Let us begin cheerly, No matter  
On what slight or trivial subject; Be it  
On that single melancholy hair upon  
Your chin. Rise and fall by my example.  De. 
I am prepared.  Vol. 
monsieur, sil adirent que eat cheveil la sera brusle; que farions nous  
Avec vostre menton: poucce que le Roy.  De. 
monsieur be not troubled! banish your fear,  
For I'll toss th' antarctic pole  
With like ease as Hercules could a bulrush.  
Make it a secret.  Vol. 
O vy da', je slay bien que la volente, doit esere est emet pour facit: mais quond  
je vous donneray an cheque naude prenez lamanie, que celus, que tombe  
Gaigneray un pas; pour reu, que ce veleve—  De. 
Troth, I know not, may be it was a mistake in Plato, for those pins and feathers which you talk of, are useful unto Ladies. Besides 'tis well known, the man i'th' Moon will not permit excuse in business of this kind: 'tis dangerous to law, and reason.  Vol. 
je ne le croy pas, cesee un chanson dumonde.  De. 
So I was told by one that knows the king's heart? he came hither to cheapen Ginger bread, for the mogul's daughter.  Vol. 
Est i' possibile? Il in a aucun chose ci dificile, mais je le prenderay tant tose.  De. 
Dost i'faith, know then all the lions in Barbary shall not contrary me in this way.  Vol. 
How do you like it signior?  De. 
T'as put me into a heat, and French heats aren not  
Very wholesome. But I've heard how nimbly  
You dispose your person in a French Curvet!  Vol. 
I know your mind; but my body is now prepared  
For a high visit. My joints moves by screws,  
I'm so starched together; a dance would  
Loosen me, and make me fall in rumples.  
Your man is well built for such a motion,  
Mark 'tis only thus— and thus—  Cris. 
I ha' seen your Lordship do it ta da rum, ta da rum.  Vol. 
Good, very good, signior Depazzi you owe  
Heaven much thanks, for lending you this servant;  
I ha' not seen a Gentleman in all France  
Move with so much regard, and vigour.  Cris. 
Your Lordship is my pattern.  Vol. 
M'affaires call me to Court, serviteur tres humble.  Ex. De. 
Is't possible? This Lord must rise when I am Duke:  
I'll prefer none but such as can speak French and dance;  
Crispino, prepare my Bath, I'll distil and grow amorous.  Exeunt. Enter Contarini Giotto, Dandalo, Carintha. Car. 
My Lord 'twill become me to receive  
Whom you give up so noble, I should sin  
Against obedience; you are most welcome signior.  Con. 
My best Carintha.  Gio. 
Madam you encourage me  
To serve your goodness, my Lord you undo me,  
With too much honour.  Con. 
signior, if your eye take delight in prospect  
There's a room will feed it richly,  
Show him Carintha, some  
Affairs call me to Court. Cherish him  Car. 
With my best care, please you walk.  Con. 
So Dandalo, be faithful to your trust, no interruption,  
Giotto prosper in thy sin, thy deed  
Will make me happy, though my honour bleed.  Exeunt Omnes.  

Act. 5. Scena. 1.  Enter Contarini, Carintha. Con. 
You're very jocund on the sudden.  Car. 
Thank your love for't, that provided  
Such a cure for melancholy;  
To myself I seem not to go but dance,  
When shall we have a mask  
My Lord?  Con. 
You'd be revelling again.  Car. 
I am all for sport, your honour is much bound  
To the Gentleman your friend, trust me my Lord  
He is a rare physician.  Con. 
He's well skilled in women's pulses.  Car. 
There's no fear my Lord,  
But he'll recover me, I do like him infinitely  
For my body, the best in Padua.  Con. 
Good, good he gave you gentle physic,  
But you hope 'twill work.  Car. 
No Esculapius  
Could ha' behaved him more judicially  
Did our Court Ladies know his skill  
They would be all his Patients, and be sick a purpose.  Con. 
You hold him then sufficient.  Car. 
He has a way  
So easy to do good upon's.  Con. 
Upon ye i'th' name of lust, you see  
I had a care.  Car. 
'twas more compassion, and I am bound  
To acknowledge it, I was all heaviness;  
A thousand plummets hung upon my heart,  
'tis by your means I am made light.  Con. 
I think so, very light, ha, is she not quick already,  
She moves so nimbly, Giotto has done't,  
I have it here, I feel it spread, hark you:  
You're a whore.  Car. 
Does your Lordship love bastard next your heart,  
Though some hold wine unwholesome, it may thaw  
Your congealed blood; oh the difference of constitutions.  Con. 
hay, she jeers me, how now?  Enter Dandalo. Dan. 
My Lord, her grace hath sent a strict command  
You wait tonight at Court.  Con. 
Ha?  Dan. 
The messenger seemed full of haste, he only  
Took time to say her highness had resolved,  
This Night, to clear all doubts, and from her Court  
Make happy one, with title of a Duke.  Con. 
Be dumb, thou bringst destruction tonight,  
Pray you may be mistaken, I am undone else.  Dan. 
It is my unhappiness then my Lord, to bring unwelcome truth.  Con. 
tonight, why 'tis impossible  
To sue out a divorce, I'm lost, my plots  
Rebound and strike me dead.  Car. 
My Lord, you seem  
Troubled, does your head ache, I'll into th' garden  
And gather a few simples.  Con. 
Madam a word w'e,  
You magnified but now a courtesy  
I did you, you were ever grateful, I  
Know't, you shall not do the benefit  
If you will yet kill yourself.  Car. 
That's a small matter.  Con. 
I know 'tis, considering thouart stained,  
Lost in thine honour, held but a disease  
That grows upon thy sex, a tumour; prithee  
Lance thyself 'tis soon done.  Car. 
That's a poor favour,  
Well, I'll think on't tomorrow.  Con: 
'T must be done tonight, and early to, for else 'twill  
Do me no pleasure dear Carintha, make thy memory  
Religious.  Car. 
I am thinking where the sign is,  
Hah, 'tis in Capricornus, I'll go let  
myself blood i'th' knees, and die praying,  
That your Lordship may recover your wits again.  Ex. Con, 
A fury lend me curses, make me all  
An execration, I ha' plotted fairly,  
And made myself a fine rediculus thing  
To no purpose, I am deep in shame, I must on  
Giotto, have a nimble brain; you must sink too  
Or boy me up again.  Exit. Enter Depazzi, Crispino, curling his hair. De. 
Make no words Crispino, for the Duchess  
Would not have it published that she means to choose me.  Cris. 
Did she promise you?  De. 
Not by word of mouth, but I know her meaning,  
As well as I were in her, I must be Duke man.  
'tis certain, everybody knows it, but say nothing  
lest it break out, hast done.  Cris. 
A little with this lock, and I'll adorn your Lordship  
With a powder; I hope your honour will  
Not forget Crispino's faithful service when you are Duke.  De. 
Why I am Duke already,  
But for the ceremony, my reign's begun, Depazzi the first.  
But that I'll not show myself unto my people,  
Because the Duchess did entreat me, let me  
See what place thouart fit for: oh I have it,  
Thou shalt be judge.  Cris. 
A judge my Lord  De. 
A judge my Lord, at least, thou canst discharge it,  
'tis nothing to sit upon life and death, 'tis not  
Required you should speak much, thy trade has half  
Prepared thee, thou canst pole the commons, I'm sure,  Cris. 
And cut off capital offenders.  De. 
Very good be it so, be a judge.  Cris. 
Where my good Lord?  De. 
Why thou shalt be a judge in potentia.  Cris. 
I humbly thank your grace.  Enter Comachio, Giotto. Com. 
Oh my true friend, I have no happiness  
But thou dost make me climb too't, 'twill be thy own  
instructor, and oblige me everlastingly.  Gio. 
I'll soon remove your fears, I cannot doubt  
You will make good your promise Sir, to pardon  
When you're Duke.  Com. 
Pardon, reward and honour thee as my preserver,  
Be not observed, I am your creature.  Exit. Comachio. Gio. 
My Lord, I have assayed which you require privacy,  
Send off Crispino,  De. 
I ha' made him a judge.  Gio. 
'tis very trimly done of you, I cry you mercy my very  
Good Lord, I humbly desire your honourable absence.  Cris. 
It shall be granted.  Exit. De. 
Now signior what bring you.  Gio. 
Why some tokens for your Lordship, look you.  De. 
theyare no tokens of love as I take it.  Gio. 
Yes but they are, and you must take 'em so,  
But make your choice, which best affecteth you,  
For one you must accept.  De. 
O what do you mean signior.  Gio. 
Not too loud, lest I choose for you, here's a ball,  
Better than any ere Crispino washed  
Your honour's face with 'twill scour you.  De. 
Hold, are you in earnest.  Gio. 
A bullet will quickly sing my errand to you,  
Will you choose.  De. 
I beseech declare your meaning signior.  Gio. 
In short, I me sent to kill you, if you like  
Any death better than another, briefly  
Resolve and have it, nay without long study.  De. 
Every man should consider his end signior, alas!  Gio. 
The Duchess loves you, and there must be order  
Taken to stay your raising, say your prayers.  De. 
I ha' not the heart to say my prayers,  
Ah, if I must needs, I would die  
Another death, you ha' not brought me.  Gio. 
What is't?  De. 
I would choose my gallows, ah, stay 'tis very  
Short warning, and I am not half prepared:  
What is this, Ratsbane; alas that's to kill  
Vermin, I would be loath to be sent out of  
The world like a Rat.  Gio. 
What say you to a halter?  De. 
Indeed signior I never loved swinging  
In my life, and the halter is a dog's death,  
I would die like a man.  Gio. 
What say you to a sword?  De. 
Alas I have a sword of my own, and I had a mind to't  
But my stomach will never digest it.  Gio. 
Then this pistol.  De. 
But that I have a weak constitution,  
I have always been given to looseness,  
And I doubt your pellet will put me into such a scouring.  Gio. 
Why, would you live then?  De. 
Alas every thing would live signior, but I should be  
Sorry to enjoy a life, that stood not with your liking signior.  
But if I live to be a Duke.—  Gio. 
Duke that's the sluice opened this torrent.  De. 
I am abused dear signior, I'll renounce it,  
I'll be first a dog-killer.  Gio. 
This is but air, your not to be trusted,  
I ha' sworn to send you into another world,  
You must not more be seen.  De. 
I won't; do but trust me,  
And as I am honourable I'll go  
Into the wilderness, and live with Bears;  
Any whether, hide me in a Well, and there be no  
Water in't, I'll feed on gravel;  
By this hand, this seven years, none shall know  
But I am dead.  Gio. 
If they should find you living.  De. 
Never, I'll endure pinching to death  
Ere I'll confess it.  Gio. 
Were I certain  
You would be buried to all men's sight, but till  
Tomorrow.  De. 
See me put into the ground yourself,  
So you'll not smother me, and it be seven nights  
I'll feed on moles sweet signior.  Gio. 
The Duchess doth purpose this night her election,  
Your Uncle envying your hope, must ha'  
Security for non appearance; had I  
A faith you'd creep into obscurity,  
But for twelve hours I should have one  
Sin less to answer for.  De. 
Noble signior, I'll wriggle myself into a  
worm-hole, or creep into a Molehill, and live  
Upon emmet's eggs.  Exit. Gio. 
Be sure you do't than, poor sick nobility,  
How thin he looks already.  Enter Volterre at one door, Orseollo at tother. Vol. 
signior Giotto.  Gio. 
Now the tide comes.  Vol. 
This is the night signior, t'inclines apace.  
Do I remain unshaken in her opinion  
Have I any square still.  Gio. 
O my good Lord.  Ors. 
signior a word,  
Does this night then conclude—  Gio. 
Your happiness.  Ors. 
Be not tempted from me, I have writ  
Pamphlets in praise of women, I have a volume  
Of Recantations.  Gio. 
They are fruitless,  
You are fixed already in her thoughts, away  
You make your person cheap, meet, and  
Be happy.  Exit Orseollo. Enter Contarini. Con. 
Giotto.  Vol. 
Dear signior.  Con. 
What make they flattering here, ha' they all hope  
To enjoy her; all, only Contarini  
Could gnaw his heartstrings now to be excluded,  
When he expected his fate ripe, and all his  
Hopes fit for gathering.  Gio. 
Be high and answer your great hopes;  
Meet confidence.  Vol. 
Shalt be my fellow Caesar in the Empire.  Gio. 
Noble Contarini.  Con. 
Y'ave store of client's signior, I am come  
To know my fortune too.  Gio. 
Alas my Lord.  Con. 
You'd say 'tis plain writ in my forehead, yes  
In capital letters; you are known to th' secretary,  
That taught my wife this Text hand, but you must  
Do something, sure the marriage is decreed  
tonight to rid me of Carintha, or  
I'll ha' thee punished for adultery.  Gio. 
Are you mad?  Con. 
As horns can make a man, it is no time  
For patience, hear me carefully and have  
Your best brains.  Gio. 
Adultery? was it not by your consent,  
The very sinful act yours, I but moved  
By your direction, will this published  
Exempt you from the Law?  Con. 
I'll laugh at thee  
With my man's help, and oath against thee, I'll  
Return thy calumny i'th' face, I am  
A Lord, and shall out weigh thee, couldst thou give  
Thy truth a body, that even men might see  
As well as hear it.  Gio. 
This is strange and violent ha,  Con. 
Do, harrow thy skull, I am resolved.  Gio. 
This is but course reward for my last office,  
No remedy but killing before supper;  
Did my stars owe me this? you will pardon me  
When you're Duke, that's but reason.  Con. 
And reward thee.  Gio. 
I am in, and must wade through, she goes to bed  
Supperless.  Con. 
Oh happiness, may I trust too't?  Gio. 
I'll put her granam to the charge of worms  
To entertain her, meet, and be Duke, I'll make  
Your wife immortal.  Con. 
Wilt thou be speedy, for I'll tell thee Giotto,  
I cannot hope this night to have all perfect.  
The noise of this her sudden death, must needs  
Mar this nights revelling, and protract the choice  
That is expected; then a little time  
Presents me capable of the mighty favour:  
I have encouragement to hope for marriage  
With our great Duchess, ha.  Gio. 
Excellent brains,  
Your wife is already carrying commendations.  
To your friends i'th' tother world.  Con. 
Oh let me hug thee.  Gio. 
I have your pardon.  Con. 
And my heart too, on, be swift in thy great work  
Believe it done.  Enter Duchess, Carintha, Laura. Dutch. 
This pleasantness becomes you well Carintha,  
And you show duty in it, this night we dedicate  
To our own delights.  Car. 
Madam, I ha' more wonder  
To tell your grace, when you are pleased to hear me.  Dutch. 
You'll find our disposition meet it, but  
Laura, dost thou not smile to think upon  
The event, we shall be censured humorous.  Lau. 
But your grace shall publish your reasons,  
You will appear just.  Dutch. 
That ambition  
Should have such fear in humane natures, but  
Court hath been long sick; they are my humours  
And I must physic 'em.  Enter Depazzi. De. 
Treason, treason, where's the Duchess, O Madam  
Never was heard of such a horrid treason.  Dutch. 
Our guard.  De. 
Nay I discovered and prevented it  
Already.  Dutch. 
You amaze us, what's the treason, who is  
The conspirator?  De. 
My Uncle, but I think most o' the Lords  
Had their hand in't:  Dutch. 
Be brief.  De. 
There was a plot of treason to ha' killed.  Duchess 
Whom? defend us heaven.  De. 
Nay I ha' defended myself, they would a killed.  
Me, that shall be Duke, because they saw  
You were inclined to marry me.  Dutch. 
Is this the treason?  De. 
And who should be the villain think you, but  
Giotto.  All. 
Giotto.  De, 
I Giotto, but like an honest rascal  
Upon my promise, to go hide myself  
For twelve hours, he saved my life, did y'ever  
Hear of such a cunning traitor, but it is  
Your destiny to ha' me, you have cause  
To pray heartily.  Dutch. 
And so I have, here was a piece of treason,  
But be reserved you are here safe; I'll take  
My time to know and punish all; what bold  
intruders this?  Enter Crispino. Cris. 
My Lord, I heard your voice in fearful manner  
Crying treason, are you in preservation.  De. 
One of my loving subjects; yes Crispino:  
'Tis Crispino Madam, one that I ha' promised  
To make a judge, he was my Barber, and  
Will fit the Common wealth to a hair.  Dutch. 
He must deserve that place then.  De. 
'Tis confirmed.  Cris. 
I humbly thank your excellence.  Dutch. 
signior Depazzi, you shall be near our person,  
Here's mirth more than's expected; Laura, bid  
Some waiter command Giotto's presence;  
Carintha, we'll retire and hear your wonder.  
My Lord, we'll sift the treason.  De. 
And let the traitors be bolted Madam I beseech you.  Enter Officer, and Servants. Offi. 
Quick, set things in order. The Gentlemen  
That come to see this great preparation,  
Must please to make room for't, so, so.  
What are you Sir.  Cris. 
I am the terror of the Law.  Offi. 
What's that, a hangman?  Cris. 
When I look lean, and frown, thou diest, I am  
A judge, I say, a judge in Potentia.  Offi. 
Have we a Town called Potentia, in our Duchy.  Serv. 
He's some foreigner, he comes to use his eyes,  
Let him pass.  Offi. 
Cease your clamours Villains: sure the devils  
Are singing a catch. Give order the outward  
Doors be locked. Let none approach the presence;  
The Lords must come hither up the back stairs,  
And through the Privy gallery, bear back:  Exeunt. Knocking at the other door. 
More noise yet, 'twere less troublesome living  
In a drum then at Court, in nights of  
Entertainment.  Within. Open the door. Offi. 
My Lord Comachio's voice.  Enter Comachio, Orseollo, they salute with silence at the door. Com. 
The Lords are not yet met.  Ors. 
I hate this overgrown thing, 'tis high time  
He should intend's affairs in Heaven, yet still  
He hath some business upon earth,  Cris. 
Save you my good Lord, signior Orseollo,  
I hope you have an able faith.  Ors. 
Why do ye hope so?  Cris. 
That ye may be saved too.  Ors. 
The groom is witty.  Knocking at the door. Offi. 
Who makes that noise?  Within. signior Contarini and Volterre would Have entrance. Enter Contarini, Volterre, who salute each other with silence at the door, then are saluted by Comachio, and Orseollo. Com. 
Why was Contarini warned, he has a wife,  
His hope have no encouragement.  Cris. 
My Lord Volterre, I congratulate  
Your safety, and your health signior Contarini?  Vol. 
Is not this Depazzi's Barber?  Con. 
I wish he had more manners.  Cris. 
There are certain judges in the dark  Vol. 
And that's the reason justice is blind.  Cris. 
And those judges shall come to light too, when  
They shall think convenience proper—  Vol. 
His fingers speak his profession  Within. Make way there, fellows o'th' guard, The passage. Offi. 
Bear back Gentlemen, what do you mean,  
Pray bear back?  Lords, 
Music then.  Enter Depazzi, Giotto, Duchess: Laura. 
Attendants.  Duchess sits under her Canopy. Com. 
My Nephew still alive, Giotto, you  
Trifle with me, I am dangerous when  
My wrath is.  Gio. 
You mistook your Nephew, I proffered him  
four or five several deaths, and could not get him  
To accept of one. Come signior there's great hope,  
The Duchess but pretends a care o'er him,  
The more to disguise her love of you.  Com. 
This is but a weak comfort.  Con. 
Is't done? softly in my ear?  Gio. 
It is not done.  Con. 
Hell, and damnation!  Gio. 
Your wife is invisible: the Sun can hardly  
Find her out.  Con. 
Secure thyself, my ways are hidden.  Vol. 
Diable prend e'te Droll la! parles doucement.  De. 
Do not trust the Archduke, he cozened me at  
Blowpoint.  Vol. 
Abien, ce'te unchose'ci dificile. jene scay que fair.  De. 
Right, why that's the cause I lent the Emperor my  
comb-case.  Vol. 
Ma foy loblie! mais nous le voyerous tontastine grandement esbahy.  De. 
With like ease may I— hand saw, and invite the  
Moon to supper.  Dutch. 
Hah, who is the cause of this fury.  Vol. 
'tis only a French heat, an't like your excellence.  Dutch. 
My Lord the time is now arrived wherein  
We are to gain your thanks, and strive to oblige  
Posterity, your care o'th' public weal,  
Encouraged your continual suit to heaven,  
And us, that we would make an earthy choice  
Of a good husband. Even from this number,  
we'll perform your wishes, envy is the sin  
Of Cowards: therefore no Lord of high birth,  
And temperate breeding will malign his destiny  
Whom we shall think most worthy our esteem:  
Nay, 'twould show decay of duty  
Ith' greatest of our Court, to think that we  
Want skill to make a safe election, such  
A bold thought, in one we call our subject  
Would soon corrupt our nature, and make our  
justice cruel; we do expect (my Lords)  
No verbal satisfaction in this point;  
But as we single out our choice, we'll make  
A private trial of each heart, Contarini:  She descends, leads him aside. Com. 
I can perceive no cause of fear from him,  
he's married,  Dutch. 
How does your wife signior?  Con. 
She has too much health Madam: but had I known  
Your excellences purpose, to hasten thus  
Your favour towards your humble subject:  
She had ere this arrived in heaven: however  
If your care find your blood so violent  
You are not able to delay the use  
Of this my person; she shall not live long  
To find your desire.  Dutch. 
O my good Lord you still increase my obligation  Con. 
'Tis great pity custom should make Princes  
So reserved in wooing, had ye told me  
But two days since of this meeting, I had  
Cashiered my wife; a nimbler way than by  
Contriving a divorce.  Dutch. 
Then you have practised a divorce already?  Con. 
'Las, no design seems difficult, that makes  
Me capable of your highness' love.  Dutch. 
What an Iron impudence rules in thy  
Nature? thou seemest to boast of crimes the devil  
Would in modesty conceal.  Con. 
How Madam?  Dutch. 
Canst thou expect kindness from a Lady,  
That art so cruel to thy own: a soul  
So much i'th' tongue of fame, as is Carintha:  
You are one o'th' religious faction,  
Whose care merely did reflect upon the  
General good; the safety of your Country,  
I'll not publish thy disgrace: kneel old man?  
And thank the privilege of this great day;  
Thou hast thy pardon.  He kisses her hand. Con. 
horrid torture, foiled in my hopes, and made  
An argument for popular scorn, I fear  
My own shadow, my horns are grown so ugly.  Dutch. 
Orseollo.  Com. 
She knows him a woman hater, his fate  
Cannot hinder me.  Dutch. 
How thrives your charity toward our sex,  
What think you of a woman now my Lord?  Ors. 
A woman is the pride of nature: her  
Husbands best Gaurius, made to credit  
Heaven, to justify the first creation good:  
She is the destiny of time, her womb  
Contains the hope of our succession,  
The power to add new life unto the world.  Dutch. 
Stay signior, this is a kin to flattery,  
Do you appear at this our summons, with  
Hope to gain by it: you that have professed  
yourself a natural enemy to all our sex?  Ors. 
Madam I recanted that heresy,  
Giotto is my witness: there are creatures—  Dutch. 
he'll tell me all I need not tempt it from him,  
Bold monsieur, I've heard of your Goat tricks  
Of your seraglio, and your Concubines;  
Dare you be so much a Traitor, to think  
I'd marry with a public stallion,  
A Town Bull.  Ors. 
Your Highness—  Dutch. 
No more? for the honour of this day I do  
Conceal your faults and pardon 'em.  Kisses her hand. Ors. 
Giotto, I shall prick your veins.  Dutch. 
Volterre.  Com. 
What means these several parleys?  Dutch. 
I am to give you thanks (my Lord) for your  
Great care o'th' public weal. You did implore  
My haste to marriage, merely for your  
country's good, you yourself not guilty of,  
Any hope to profit by it.  Vol. 
Your excellence does me too much right.  Dutch. 
And can your nature suffer you to do  
Me wrong: you under value me, my birth  
And title, for else a little foreign  
Vanity, show in corrupted mixture  
Of unknown tongues; would not encourage thee  
T'attempt our person, and so become our equal.  Vol. 
Your highness will hold me in excuse.  Dutch. 
Yes you've more deserved our mercy then  
The rest— walk aside.  Kisses her hand. Dutch. 
Comachio!  Com. 
hay, I begin to prosper!  Dutch. 
You are your country's father, chief of those  
Whose zealous interest i'th' common wealth,  
Urged to entreat my first endeavours,  
To help posterity with issue; yet  
Prescribed yourself no share i'th' benefit:  
Fie my Lord! how sinful has ambition  
Made you? 'tis strange, that he, whom we have held  
Our Oracle, should conspire the death of  
One so harmless as your Nephew.  Com. 
My gracious Mistress:  Dutch. 
We know all; but in hope you'll not malign  
Our next election, you taste our mercy.  Kisses her hand. Com. 
False Giotto, thou shalt suffer.  Dutch. 
signior de Pazzi.  Paz. 
Hom! now I begin my reign: Duchess,  
We know thy mind: thou wouldst protest thy great  
Love unto our royal person. Contarini,  
Thy speech and let's to bed, we'll have our subjects  
Know our prompt desire to furnish them  
With a lusty hire.  Dutch. 
Your Lordship will please to hear me speak.  Paz. 
First we would know thy lips. I say it is  
Our will to buss thy highness.  Dutch. 
The fellows saucy, Take him away.  Com. 
How now Nephew?—  Paz. 
'tis fine i'faith—  Giotto and the Duchess embrace. Dutch. 
Behold (Lords) your Prince Foscari, Duke of  
Parma, and of Mantua, now our Lover,  
Whom lately you supposed dismissed our Court.  Com. 
Indeed we see the Golden Fleece his order,  
And a face like his, but yet his chin wants  
Part of his beard.  Gio. 
I left that naked, more to disguise me  
From your knowledge. And that our fame, (which must  
Out live our person) may give reply to those,  
Who shall hereafter question it; know, we  
Undertake this shape, to help us in discovery  
Of all your souls and hearts; the better to  
enable us; how to dispose of each  
Beneath our government.  Dutch. 
And I made secret promise, to bring you  
To a Court purged, and in clear health: your Lords  
Have all ta'en physic from my prescription.  
Here I present 'em to you, penitent  
And wise; for now they know themselves; which is  
The best knowledge, and chief part of wisdom.  
You are to grant their pardons for my sake.  Gio. 
With great alacrity, and I banish  
All their crimes from my remembrance.  They kneel, kiss his hand by turns. Con. 
Deprived of my revenge too!  Cris. 
Then I am no judge now.  Paz. 
'tis a new trick of state, continually  
To shift great offices.  Cris. 
Ear I've made my cushion warm!  Paz. 
No remedy, If I'm his favourite,  
Thou shalt be my Pimp, then thouart sure to rise.  Gio. 
Must we not be reconciled to my Lord  
Depazzi too?  Paz. 
I forgive your highness, I.  Gio. 
And I you, your love is soon requited:  Lau. 
I hope your excellence will pardon my  
Rude intrusion into your acquaintance.  
Her grace concealed this part of her design  
From me. I never knew till now, that you  
Were more than Giotto, the Florentine.  Gio. 
Madam, you are truly noble: you have  
Merited our best assistance.  All. 
Long Foscari, Duke of Mantua, and Parma.  Enter Carintha. Dutch. 
This noise brings in Carintha.  Gio. 
Uneasy thoughts perplex her husband.  Dutch. 
Make not rumour acquainted with  
Your grief: as yet 'tis contained i'th' knowledge  
Of us four, I forgive his excellence  
His sin 'gainst me. Make me your good example,  
And forgive your wife her error.  Con. 
Heaven has punished my ambition, it was  
My own seeking. I'm content to suffer.  Gio. 
Then take your wife, and with assurance from  
The faith of a true Knight and Prince, she doth  
Retain that chastity she had, when first  
I saw her. Now each wrinkled brow grows smooth;  
And I begin my sovereignty: with hope  
To give succession cause, still to prefer  
This Day, as chief within their calendar.  Exeunt Omnes.  
FINIS.