THE COSTLY WHORE.

[Act the First.]

[SCENE 1.]

    Enter Constantine and Otho.

Constantine.  How do’st thou like the lovely Euphrata?

Otho.  I did not marke her.

Const.  Then thou didst not marke
The fairest Saxon Lady in mine eye
That ever breath’d a maid.

Otho.  Your minde now knowne, Ile say shee is the fairest in the world, Were she the foulest.

Con.  Then thou canst dissemble.

Otho.  You know I cannot; but, deare Constantine,
I prethee tell me first, what is that Ladie,
That wonder of her sexe, cal’d Euphrata? 
Whose daughter is she?

Const.  I cannot blame thee, Otho,
Though thou be ignorant of her high worth,
Since here in Saxon we are strangers both;
But if thou cal’st to minde why we left Meath,
Reade the trice[162] reason in that Ladies eye,
Daughter unto the Duke of Saxonie,
Shee unto whom so many worthy Lords
Vail’d Bonnet when she past the Triangle,
Making the pavement Ivory where she trode.

Otho.  She that so lightly toucht the marble path That leadeth from the Temple to the presence?

Const.  The same.

Otho.  Why, that was white before,
White Marble, Constantine, whiter by odds
Then that which lovers terme the Ivory hand,
Nay then the Lillie whitenesse of her face.

Con.  Come, thou art a cavilling companion: 
Because thou seest my heart is drown’d in love,
Thou wilt drowne me too.  I say the Ladie’s faire;
I say I love her, and in that more faire;
I say she loves me, and in that most faire;
Love doth attribute in Hyperbolies
Unto his Mistris the creation
Of every excellence, because in her
His eies do dreame of perfect excellence.—­
And here she comes; observe her, gentle friend.

    [Enter Euphrata.

Euph.  Welcome, sweet Constantine.

Con.  My Euphrata.

Euph.  Thy Euphrata, be thou my Constantine.  But what is he? a stranger, or thy friend?

Con.  My second selfe, my second Euphrata.  If thou beest mine, salute her, gentle Otho.

Otho.  An humble and a true devoted heart I tender to you in a mindes chast kisse.

Euph.  Welcome to me, since welcome to my friend.

Otho.—­A beautiful, an admirable Ladie! 
I thinke ’tis fatall unto every friend
Never to love, untill his friend first love,
And then his choice; but sooner will I teare
Out of this brest mine affection with my heart.

Euph.  Hearing, sweet Constantine, thou wert so nere me, I came as I were winged to gaze on thee.