an hundred.

Gonzalo:

And besides them I keep a noble train,
Statists, and men of aclion: my purse is large and deep,
Beyond the reach of riot to draw drie:
Fortune did vie with Nature, to bestow
(When I was born) her bountie equally:
'Tis not amiss you turn your eyes from me;
For should you stand and gaze me in the face,
You perish would, like _Semele_ by _Jove_:
In _Venice_ at this instant there do lye
No less than threescore Ladies in their graves,
And in their Beds five hundred for my love.

Mochingo:

You lie more than they; yet it becomes him bravel[y];
Would I could walk and talk so! I'le endeavour it.

Erota:

Sir, do you know me?
255]

Gonzalo:

Yes, you were sister to the late Prince of _Candy_,
Aunt to this young one: and I in _Venice_,
Am born a Lord; equall to you in fortunes,
In shape; I'le say no more, but view.

Mochingo:

There needs no more be said, were I a woman--
O he does rarely: in shape; I'le say no more,
But view: who could say more, who better?
Man is no man, nor woman woman is,
Unless they have a pride like one of these.
How poor the Prince of _Cyprus_ shews to him!
How poor another Lady unto her!
Carriage and State makes us seem demi-gods,
Humility, like beasts, worms of the Earth.

[Enter _Antinous_, and _Decius_.]

Antinous:

Royal Lady, I kiss your hand.

Erota:

Sir, I know you not.

Annophel:

O my noble Brother, welcom from the wars.

Antinous:

Dear Sister.

Annophel:

Where is my Father, that you come without him?
We have news of your success: he has his health I hope?

Antinous:

Yes Sister, he has his health, but is not well.

Annophel:

How not well? what Riddles do yo[u] utter?

Antinous:

I'le tell you more in private.

Gonzalo:

Noble Sir,
I cannot be unmindfull of your merit,
Since I last heard it: you are a hopefull youth,
And (indeed) the Soul of _Candy_.
I must speak my thoughts.

Annophel:

The Prince of _Cyprus_ Brother, good _Decius_.

Antinous:

I am his Servant.

Philander:

You are the Patron of your Countrie, Sir,
So your unimitable deeds proclaim you,
It is no language of my own, but all mens.

Gonzalo:

Your Enemies