Page.  This was one, they heard your Lordship
Was by the Ladies choice to lead the Dance,
And therefore they, too well assur’d how far
You would outshine ’em, gave it o’re and said,
They would not serve for foiles to set you off.

Dua.  They at their best are such, and ever shall be Where I appear.

Man.  Do you note his modesty?

Dua.  But was there nothing else pretended?

Page.  Yes, Young Don Alonzo, the great Captains Nephew, Stood on comparisons.

Dua.  With whom?

Page.  With you,
And openly profess’d that all precedence,
His birth and state consider’d, was due to him,
Nor were your Lordship to contend with one
So far above you.

Dua.  I look down upon him
With such contempt and scorn, as on my slave,
He’s a name only, and all good in him
He must derive from his great grandsires Ashes,
For had not their victorious acts bequeath’d
His titles to him, and wrote on his forehead,
This is a Lord, he had liv’d unobserv’d
By any man of mark, and died as one
Amongst the common route.  Compare with me? 
’Tis Gyant-like ambition; I know him,
And know my self, that man is truly noble,
And he may justly call that worth his own,
Which his deserts have purchas’d, I could wish
My birth were more obscure, my friends and kinsmen
Of lesser power, or that my provident Father
Had been like to that riotous Emperour
That chose his belly for his only heir;
For being of no family then, and poor
My vertues wheresoe’r I liv’d, should make
That kingdom my inheritance.

Gui.  Strange self Love!

Dua.  For if I studied the Countries Laws,
I should so easily sound all their depth,
And rise up such a wonder, that the pleaders,
That now are in most practice and esteem,
Should starve for want of Clients:  if I travell’d,
Like wise Ulysses to see men and manners,
I would return in act, more knowing, than
Homer could fancy him; if a Physician,
So oft I would restore death-wounded men,
That where I liv’d, Galen should not be nam’d,
And he that joyn’d again the scatter’d limbs
Of torn Hippolytus should be forgotten. 
I could teach Ovid courtship, how to win
A Julia, and enjoy her, though her Dower
Were all the Sun gives light to:  and for arms
Were the Persian host that drank up Rivers, added
To the Turks present powers, I could direct,
Command, and Marshal them.

Man.  And yet you know not To rule your self, you would not to a boy else Like Plautus Braggart boast thus.

Dua.  All I speak, In act I can make good.

Gui.  Why then being Master
Of such and so good parts do you destroy them,
With self opinion, or like a rich miser,
Hoard up the treasures you possess, imparting
Nor to your self nor others, the use of them? 
They are to you but like inchanted viands,
On which you seem to feed, yet pine with hunger;
And those so rare perfections in my Son
Which would make others happy, render me
A wretched Mother.