_Duke_. Then let it be restor'd. What, should a Prince retaine a strumpets glove?-- O ye eternall powers, am I insnar'd With the affection of a common trull!-- Wheres your commissions, that you would have sign'd? 'Tis time I had a president in _Saxonie_. Receive our signet, and impresse them straight; Ile remaine here, in _Meath_, some little time. Brother, have care my Dukedome be well rul'd; Here I put over my affaires to you. My sonne I leave unto the joyes of youth; Tis pittie that his minde should be opprest So soone with care of governments. Goe to your pleasures, seeke your sister foorth, Send _Constantine_ to us; so leave me all, I am best accompanied with none at all. [_Exeunt_. _Manet Duke_. Either the Plannets, that did meete together In the grand consultation of my birth, Were opposite to every good infusion, Or onely _Venus_ stood as retrograde; For, but in love of this none-loving trull, I have beene fortunate even since my birth. I feele within my breast a searching fire Which doth ascend the engine of my braine, And when I seeke by reason to suppresse The heate it gives, the greaters the excesse. I loath to looke upon a common lip Were it as corral as _Aurora's_ cheeke Died with the faire virmillion [of the] sunne. O but I love her, and they say she is faire.-- Now _Constantine_. _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_.