_Vir._ 'Tis better fall Than hide my head, now 'twas thine own advice, My friends engag'd too. _Jul._ You stand further bound, Than to weak men that have betrai'd themselves, Or to my counsel, though then just and loyal: Your phansie hath been good, but not your judgement, In choice of such to side you; will you leap From a steep Tower, because a desperate fool Does it, and trusts the wind to save his hazard? There's more expected from you; all mens eies are fixt On _Virolet_, to help, not hurt them; Make good their hopes and ours, you have sworn often, That you dare credit me; and allow'd me wise Although a woman; even Kings in great actions, Wait opportunity, and so must you, Sir, Or loose your understanding. _Vir._ Thou art constant; I am uncertain fool, a most blind fool; Be thou my guide. _Jul._ If I fail to direct you, For torment or reward, when I am wretched, May constancy forsake me. _Vir._ I've my safety. Enter _Castruchio_ and _Villio._ _Vil._ Why are you rapt thus? _Cast._ Peace, thou art a fool. _Vil._ But if I were a flatterer like your worship, I should be wise and rich too; There are few else that prosper, Bawds excepted, They hold an equal place there. _Cast._ A shrewd knave; But oh the King, the happy King! _Vil._ Why happy? In bearing a great burthen. _Cast._ What bears he, That's born on Princes shoulders? _Vil._ A Crowns weight, Which sets more heavy on his head, than the Oar Slaves dig out of the Mines, of which 'tis made. _Cast._ Thou worthily art his fool, to think that heavy That carries him in the air; the reverence due To that most sacred Gold, makes him ador'd, His Footsteps kist, his smiles to raise a begger To a Lords fortune; and when he but frowns, The City quakes. _Vil._ Or the poor Cuckolds in it, Coxcombs I should say, I am of a fool, Grown a Philosopher, to hear this parasite. _Cast._ The delicates he is serv'd with see and envy. _Vil._ I had rather have an Onion with a stomack, Than these without one. _Cast._ The Celestial Musick, Such as the motion of the eternal sphears [_Still musick._ Yields _Jove_, when he drinks _Nectar_. _Vil._ Here's a fine knave, yet hath too many fellows. _Cast._ Then the beauties, That with variety of ch[oy]ce embraces, [_These pass o'r._ Renew his age. _Vil._ Help him to crouch rather, And the _French_ Cringe, they are excellent Surgeons that way. _Cast._ O Majesty! let others think of heaven, While I contemplate thee. _Vil._ This is not _Atheisme_, but Court observance. _Cast._ Now the God appears, usher'd with earth-quakes. _Vil._ Base Idolatry. [_Flourish._ _Enter_ Ferrand, _Guard, Women, Servants._