Enter Constantine.

Con.  Your grace did send for me.

Duke.  Lend me your habit in exchange of mine, For I must walk the Citie for a purpose.

Con.  With all my heart, my habit and my selfe.

Duke.  In any case, watch at the privie chamber. 
If any ask for me say I am not well,
And though it be my sonne, let him not enter.

Con.  I will.

Duke.  Be carefull, gentle Constantine. 
Now, faire Valentia, Saxon to thy bower
Comes like a Jove to raine a golden shower.
          
                                [Exit.

Con.  Prosper, kind Lord, what ere the action be; Counsailes of Princes should be ever free.

[Exit.

[SCENE 2.]

Enter Valentia and Montano.

Va.  Torches and Musique there! the room’s too darke.

Mon.  Prethee, Neece,
Abandon this lascivious unchaste life;
It is the onely blemish of our house;
Scandall unto our name; a Curtezan! 
O what’s more odious in the eares of men?

Val.  Then why doe men resort to Curtezans,
And the best sort?  I scorne inferiour groomes,
Nor will I deign[179] to draw aside my maske
To any meaner then a Noble man. 
Come,[180] can you dance? a caper and a kisse: 
For every turne Ile fold thee in my armes,
And if thou fal’st, although[181] a-kin we be
That thou maist fall[182] soft, Ile fall under thee. 
Oh for the lightnesse of all light heel’d girles,
And I would touch the Ceeling with my lips! 
Why art thou sad, Montano?

Mon.  On just cause, You know I am banish’t from my natiue countrey.

Val.  This citie is Meath, thou art of Saxonie.

Mon.  But this belongs unto the Saxons Duke, By the decease of the departed Bishop.

Val.  Feare not, thou art as safe within my house As if perculliz’d in a wall of brasse.  Wheres Vandermas?

    Enter Vandermas.

Van.  Madam, did you call?

Mon.  What noble man is that, a sutor to you?

Val.  An excellent Pander, a rare doore-keeper.[183]

Mon.  I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least.

Val.  Because of his attire?

Mon.  True.

Val.  O the attire
In these corrupted daies is no true signe
To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes,
In the habilments of noblemen. 
The world’s grown naught, such judgement then is base,
For Hares and Asses weare the lion’s case.[184]

Mon.  ’Tis very costly and exceeding rich.

Val.  Ritches to me are like trash to the poore,
I have them in abundance; gold’s my slave,
I keep him prisoner in a three-fold chest
And yet his kindred daily visit me.