nteous fee.

_Duke_. Your humble servant, bound by a sweet kisse.

_Valen_. I give you freedome, gentle Sir, by this.
[_He whispers her_.
I know your mind; first censure of the sport,
Then you and I will enter _Venus_ Court.

_Duke_. More then immortall, O more then divine,
That such perfection, should turne Concubine.

_Mon_. That voice is like unto the _Saxon Dukes_.
I feare he hath heard I liv'd here in this place,
And he is come to doe me more disgrace.
_Montano_, hide thyself till he be gone;
His daughter thirsts for my destruction.
[_Exit Mont_.

_Val_. Come sit by me, the Maskers are at hand.

_Enter Maske_.

Where are my Maides, to helpe to make the dance?

_Enter 2 Maids.

They dance, Valentia with them; they whisper to have
her play at dice and stake on the drum_.

_Valen_. What, shall we have a Mumming? heres my Jewell.

[_Play on the drum head_.

_Duke_. Thou art a jewell most incomparable.--
Malicious heaven, why from so sweete a face
Have you exempt the mind adorning grace?

[_They stake and play_.

_She wins, the drum strikes up_.

_Val_. More gold, for this is mine, I thanke yee, dice.

_Duke_. And so are all that doe behold thy beautie.--
Were she as chaste, as she is outward bright,
Earth would be heaven, and heaven eternal night.
The more I drinke of her delicious eye,
The more I plunge into captivitie.

_She wins, strike up_.

_Valen_. Have I wonne all? then take that back agen.
What, scorne my gift? I see you are a gentleman.
No, is't not possible that I may know
Unto whose kindnesse this great debt I owe?
Well, Ile not be importunate, farewell;
Some of your gold let the torch-bearers tell.

_Duke_. Beautious _Madona_, do you know these galants?

_Valen_. I guesse them of the Duke of _Saxons_ Court.

_Duke_.--My subjects, and so many my corrivalls
O every slave is grac't before his Prince.

_Valen_. Are you not well sir, that your colour failes?

_Duke_. If I be sicke, 'tis onely in the minde:
To see so faire, so common to all kinde;
I am growne jealous now of all the world.--
Lady, how ere you prize me, without pleasure
More then a kisse, I tender you this treasure;
O what's a mint spent in such desire
But like a sparke that makes a greater fire?--
She must be ma