Erota: 

      Knows any one here what this fellow is?

Attendants: 

      He is of Venice (Madam) a great Magnifico,
      And gracious with the Senate.

Erota: 

      Let him keep then among them; what makes he here? 
      Here’s state enough where I am:  here’s a do—­
      You, tell him, if he have ought with us, let him
      Look lower, and give it in Petition.

Mochingo: 

      Mighty Magnifico, my Mistris bid me tell you,
      If you have ought with her, you must look lower,
      And yield it in Petition.

Gonzalo: 

      Here is for thee a Ducket.

Mochingo: 

      You say well Sir, take your own course.

Gonzalo: 

      I will not grace you
      (Lady) so much as take you by the hand;
      But when I shall vouchsafe to touch your lip,
      It shall be through your Court a holy-day
      Proclaimed for so high favour.

Erota: 

      This is some
      Great mans Jester:  Sirrah, begon, here is
      No place to fool in.

Gonzalo: 

      Where are the fools you talk of? 
      I do keep two.

Erota: 

      No question of it:  for
      In your self you do maintain an hundred.

Gonzalo: 

      And besides them I keep a noble train,
      Statists, and men of aclion:  my purse is large and deep,
      Beyond the reach of riot to draw drie: 
      Fortune did vie with Nature, to bestow
      (When I was born) her bountie equally: 
      ’Tis not amiss you turn your eyes from me;
      For should you stand and gaze me in the face,
      You perish would, like Semele by Jove: 
      In Venice at this instant there do lye
      No less than threescore Ladies in their graves,
      And in their Beds five hundred for my love.

Mochingo: 

      You lie more than they; yet it becomes him bravel[y];
      Would I could walk and talk so!  I’le endeavour it.

Erota: 

Sir, do you know me?
255]

Gonzalo: 

      Yes, you were sister to the late Prince of Candy,
      Aunt to this young one:  and I in Venice,
      Am born a Lord; equall to you in fortunes,
      In shape; I’le say no more, but view.

Mochingo: 

      There needs no more be said, were I a woman—­
      O he does rarely:  in shape; I’le say no more,
      But view:  who could say more, who better? 
      Man is no man, nor woman woman is,
      Unless they have a pride like one of these. 
      How poor the Prince of Cyprus shews to him! 
      How poor another Lady unto her! 
      Carriage and State makes us seem demi-gods,
      Humility, like beasts, worms of the Earth.