+Pinguister+, } +Lean-man+, } _two ridiculous lovers of Mirida._ _Doctor to Pinguister._ _Tailor to Lean-man._ _Jailor._ _Servant to Philidor._ _Boy._ _Clown._ _Guard and attendances._ +Amphelia+, _in love with the Duke._ +Artabella+, _the Duke's sister, but taken for the sister of Arbatus._ +Mirida+, _Philador's mad mistress._ +Amarissa+, _in love with Zoranzo._ _Six Ladies._ _Three Nurses with children._ _Scene, Italy._ ALL MISTAKEN. ACT I., SCENE I. _Enter +Duke+ from war, in triumph, leading in his hand +Artabella+, a woman of that country from whence he came, with +Arbatus+ her brother, and +Zoranzo+ prisoner; and on the other side +Amphelia+, +Ortellus+, and Guard._ +Duke.+ Madam, I need not say y'are welcome to this Country, since 'tis mine. +Art.+ Sir, leaving my own for yours Speaks my belief of that, and all things else You say. +Duke.+ The same unto your worthy brother, Besides, my thanks to you, sir, for letting Your sister take this journey. +Arb.+ Your highness hath so nobly express'd Yourself unto my sister, that I Consented to her coming with you; so Highly I esteem'd your princely word, That I have let her trespass on the Bound of common modesty in this Adventure: for when this hasty judging World shall see you have brought a woman From her own country, and not your Wife, how soon will every tongue give her Another title! +Duke.+ Sir, my sudden actions shall prevent all Tongues or thoughts either to name or think her Anything but my duchess; therefore All that owe duty or respect to me, pay it To her. What, Amphelia, did you believe The world so barren of good faces, that Yours only does enrich it? or did you think It was men's fates only to doat on yours? Look on this lady, and you'll see your error; Mark well her face, and you will find In every line beauty sits empress there. These are the eyes, Amphelia, now, that dart Obedience through my heart; are not you vex'd To see I am no constant fool, and love You still? +Amph.+ Vexed at what? to see a man I hate Love another? a very great vexation! Know, sir, this breast has only room for joy And love to brave Ortellus-- Forgive my heart that 'twas not yours before, Since you have long deserv'd it. +Ort.+ Madam, no time was long enough to wait This blessed hour. +Amph.+ Alas, great duke! instead Of pining for your change, you find me midst A thousand joys in this new choice.