confused Nature?
So in a face, if Nature be made lame,
Then Art can make it, is it more offence
To helpe her want there then in other limmes?
Who can give instance where Dames faces lost
The priviledge their other parts may boast.

_Mom_. But our most Court received Poets saies,
That painting is pure chastities abator.

_Cla_. That was to make up a poore rime to Nature.
And farre from any judgment it confered
For lightnes comes from harts, and not from lookes,
And if inchastity possesse the hart;
Not painting doth not race it, nor being cleare
Doth painting spot it:
_Omne bonum naturaliter pulchrum_.
For outward fairenes beares the divine forme,
And moves beholders to the Act of love;
And that which moves to love is to be wisht,
And each thing simply to be wisht is good.
So I conclude mere painting of the face
A lawful and a commendable grace.

_Mom_. What paradox dost thou defend in this?
And yet through thy cleare arguments I see
Thy speach is farre exempt from flatterie;
And how illiterate custome groslie erres
Almost in all traditions she preferres.
Since then the doubt I put thee of my Neece,
Checks not thy doubtlesse love, forth my deare friend,
And to add[43] force to those impressions,
That now have caru'd her phantasie with love,
I have invited her to supper heere.
And told her thou art most extreamly sick,
Which thou shalt counterfeit with all thy skill.

_Cla_. Which is exceeding smale to conterfeit.

_Mom_. Practise a little, love will teach it thee;
And then shall _Doctor Versey_ the physitian,
Come to thee while her selfe is in my house,
Whith whom as thou confer'st of thy disease,
He bring my Neece with all the Lords, and Ladies
Within your hearing, under fain'd pretext
To shew the Pictures that hang neere thy Chamber;
Where when thou hearst my voyce, know she is there,
And therefore speake that which may stir her thoughts,
And make her flie into thy opened armes.
Ladies, whom true worth cannot move to ruth,
Trew lovers must deceive to shew their truth.

[_Exeunt_.

_Finis Actus Quarti_.

_Actvs Qvinti_.

SCENA PRIMA.

_Enter Momford, Furnifall, Tales, Kingcob, Rudesbie, Goosecap,
Foulweather, Eugenia, Hippolyta, Penelope, Winnifred_.

_Mom_. Where is sir _Gyles Goose-cappe_ here?

_Goos_. Here my Lord.

_Mom_. Come forward, Knight; t'is you that the Ladies admire at working,
a mine honour.

_Goos_. A little at once my L