_Alber_. What? my selfe, Lady? trust me it is pittie So faire a Jemme should hold so rude a picture. _Cor_. My Lord, 'tis made a Jewell in your picture, Which otherwise had not deserv'd the name. _Alber_. Kinde mistresse, kindly I accept your favor. _Enter Lassingbergh, Haunce and Lucilia_. _Flo_. Heere, you young gentleman; do you know this man? [_Exit Han_. _Mot_. Yes, signior _Flores_, 'tis Earle _Lassingbergh_.--My lord, what meane you to come this disguisd? _Lu_. Aye me! _Lass_. The foolish boye is mad; I am _Cornelius_. Earle _Lassingbergh_? I never heard of him. _Flo_. O _Lassingbergh_, we know your villainie, And thy dishonour (fond _Lucilia_). Asse that I was, dull, sencelesse, grosse braynd fool That dayly saw so many evident signes Of their close dealings, winckings, becks and touches, And what not? To enforce me to discerne, Had I not been effatuate even by Fate. Your presence, noble Lords (in my disgrace) Doth deepely moove mee, and I heere protest Most solemnly (in sight of heaven and you) That if Earle _Lassingbergh_ this day refuse To make faire mends for this fowle trespasse done, I will revenge me on his treacherous heart Though I sustaine for him a thousand deaths. _Cass_. This action (traitour _Lassingbergh_) deserves Great satisfaction or else great revenge. _Alber_. Beleeve me, gallant Earle, your choice is faire. And worthy your most honourable love. _Lassin_. My Lord, it greeves me to be thus unmaskt And made ridiculous in the stealth of love; But (for _Lucilias_ honour) I protest (Not for the desperate vowe that _Flores_ made) She was my wife before she knew my love, By secret promise made in sight of heaven. The marriage which he urgeth I accept, But this compulsion and unkinde disgrace Hath altered the condition of my love And filde my heart with yrksome discontent. _Flor_. My Lord, I must preferre mine honour still Before the pleasure of the greatest Monarch, Which since your Lordship seekes to gratifie With just and friendly satisfaction, I will endeavour to redeeme the thought Of your affection and lost love to us. Wilt please you therefore now to associate This woorthy Prince at this unwoorthy banquet? _Alber_. My Lord, let me intreate your company. _Lassin_. Hold mee excusd, faire Prince; my grieved thoughts Are farre unmeete for festivall delights: Heere will I sit and feede on melancholie, A humour (now) most pleasing to my taste. _Flor_. _Lucilia_, waite the pleasure of your love. My Lord, now to the banquet: Daughter, commaund us a carowse of wine. [_Musick sounds awhile; and they sing Boire a le Fountaine_. My Lord, I greete you with this first carowse, And as this wine (the Elements sweete soule) Shall grow in me to bloud and vitall spirit, So shall your love and honor grow in me. _Alber_. I pledge you, sir. _Cass_. How like you him, my Lord? _Alber_. Exceeding well. [_Sing boyre a le fountaine_.