s no vision.

_Ar._ 'Tis more: 'tis miracle.

_Hip._ You are welcom Sir.

_Ar._ It speaks, and entertains me still more glorious;
She is warm, and this is flesh here: how she stirs me!
Bless me what stars are there?

_Hip._ May I sit near ye?

_Ar._ No, you are too pure an object to behold,
Too excellent to look upon, and live;
I must remove.

_Zab._ She is a woman Sir,
Fy, what faint heart is this?

_Arn._ The house of wonder.

_Zab._ Do not you think your self now truly happy?
You have the abstract of all sweetness by ye,
The precious wealth youth labours to arrive at;
Nor is she less in honour, than in beauty,
_Ferrara's_ Royal Duke is proud to call her
His best, his Noblest, and most happy Sister,
Fortune has made her Mistress of herself,
Wealthy, and wise, without a power to sway her,
Wonder of _Italy_, of all hearts Mistress.

_Arn._ And all this is--

_Zab._ _Hippolyta_ the beauteous.

_Hip._ You are a poor relator of my fortunes,
Too weak a Chronicle to speak my blessings,
And leave out that essential part of story
I am most high and happy in, most fortunate,
The acquaintance, and the noble fellowship
Of this fair Gentleman: pray ye do not wonder,
Nor hold it strange to hear a handsome Lady
Speak freely to ye: with your fair leave and courtesie
I will sit by ye.

_Arn._ I know not what to answer,
Nor where I am, nor to what end consider;
Why do you use me thus?

_Hip._ Are ye angry Sir,
Because ye are entertain'd with all humanity?
Freely and nobly us'd?

_Arn._ No gentle Lady,
That were uncivil, but it much amazes me
A stranger, and a man of no desert
Should find such floods of courtesie.

_Hip._ I love ye,
I honour ye, the first and best of all men,
And where that fair opinion leads, 'tis usual
These trifles that but serve to set off, follow.
I would not have you proud now, nor disdainful
Because I say I love ye, though I swear it,
Nor think it a stale favour I fling on ye,
Though ye be handsome, and the only man
I must confess I ever fixt mine eye on,
And bring along all promises that please us,
Yet I should hate ye then, despise ye, scorn ye,
And with as much contempt pursue your person,
As now I do with love. But you are wiser,
At least I think, more master of your fortune,
And so I drink your health.

_Arn._ Hold fast good honesty,
I am a lost man else.

_Hip._ Now you may kiss me,
'Tis the first kiss, I ever askt, I swear to ye.

_Arn._ That I dare do sweet Lady