You are the self-same creature you condemn,
      Or else you durst not follow me with hope
      That I can pity you, who am so far
      From granting any comfort in this kind,
      That you and all men else shall perish first: 
      I will live free and single, till I find
      Something above a man to equal me;
      Put all your brave Heroes into one,
      Your Kings and Emperours, and let him come
      In person of a man, and I should scorn him: 
      Must, and will scorn him. 
      The god of love himself hath lost his eyes,
      His Bow and Torch extinguish’d, and the Poets
      That made him first a god, have lost their fire
253] Since I appear’d, and from my eyes must steal it. 
      This I dare speak; and let me see the man,
      Now I have spoke it, that doth, dare deny;
      Nay, not believe it.

Mochingo: 

      He is mad that does not.

Erota: 

      Have not all the nations of the Earth heard of me? 
      Most come to see me, and seeing me, return’d
      Full of my praises? teaching their Chroniclers
      To make their Stories perfect? for where the name,
      Merely the word of fair Erota stands,
      It is a lasting History to time,
      Begetting admiration in the men,
      And in my own Sex envie:  which glorie’s lost,
      When I shall stick my beautie in a cloud,
      And clearly shine through it.

Gonzalo: 

      This woman’s in the altitudes, and he must be
      A good Astrologer shall know her Zodiack.

Philander: 

      For any man to think
      Himself an able purchaser of you,
      But in the bargain there must be declar’d
      Infinite bounty:  otherwise I vow,
      By all that’s excellent and gracious in you,
      I would untenant every hope lodg’d in me,
      And yield my self up loves, or your own Martyr.

Erota: 

      So you shall please us.

Philander: 

      O you cannot be
      So heavenly, and so absolute in all things,
      And yet retain such cruel tyranny.

Erota: 

      I can, I do, I will.

Gonzalo: 

      She is in her
      Moods, and her Tenses:  I’le Grammer with you,
      And make a trial how I can decline you: 
      By your leave (great Lady.)

Erota: 

      What are you?

Gonzalo: 

      A man, a good man, that’s a wealthy;
      A Proper man, and a proud man too; one
      That understands himself, and knows, unless
      It be your self, no woman on the Universe deserves him. 
      Nay, Lady, I must tell you too withal,
      I may make doubt of that, unless you paint
254] With better judgement next day than on this;
      For (plain I must be with you) ’tis a dull Fucus.