_Leon._ I allow his virtues: but 'tis not handsome thus to feed my self with such moderate praises of mine own. _Bac._ The subject of our comendations is it self grown so infinite in goodness, that all the glory we can lay upon it, though we should open volumes of his praises, is a mere modesty in his expression, and shews him lame still, like an ill wrought peece wanting proportion. _Leo._ Yet still he is a man, and subject still to more inordinate vices, than our love can give him blessing. _Bac._ Else he were a _god_: yet so near as he is, he comes to heaven, that we may see so far as flesh can point us things only worthy them, and only these in all his actions. _Leon._ This is too much my Queen. _Bach._ Had the _gods_ lov'd me; that my unworthy womb had bred this brave man. _Leon._ Still you run wrong. _Bach._ I would have liv'd upon the comfort of him; fed on his growing hopes. _Leo._ This touches me. _Bach._ I know no friends, nor Being, but his virtues. _Le._ You have laid out words enough upon a subject. _Bach._ But words cannot express him Sir: why what a shape Heaven has conceiv'd him in, oh Nature made him up! _Leon._ I wonder _Dutchess_. _Bach._ So you must: for less than admiration loses this godlike man. _Leon._ Have you done with him? _Bach._ Done with? O good gods what frailties thus pass by us without reverence! _Leon._ I see no such perfection. _Bac._ O dear Sir: you are a father, and those joys To you, speak in your heart, not in your tongue. _Leo._ This leaves a tast behind it worse than physick. _Bac[h]._ Then for all his wisdome, valour, Good fortune, and all those friends of honor, They are in him as free and natural, as passions In a Woman. _Leon._ You make me blush at all these years To see how blindly you have flung your praises Upon a Boy, a very child, and worthless, Whilst I live, of these Honors. _Bac._ I would not have my love Sir, make my tongue Shew me so much a woman: as to praise Or dispraise, where my will is, without reason, Or generall allowance of the people. _Leon._ Allowance of the people, what allow they? _Bac._ All, I have sed for truth, and they must do it, And doat upon him: love him, and admire him. _Leon._ How's that? _Bac._ For in this youth and noble forwardness All things are bound together that are kingly, A fitness to bear rule: _Leon._ No more. _Bac._ And Sovereignty not made to know command. _Leon._ I have sed, no more. _Bac._ I have done Sir, though unwilling, and pardon me. _Leon._ I do, not a word more. _Bac[h]._ I have gi'n thee poyson Of more infection than the Dragons tooth, Or the gross Air o'er heated. _Leon. Timantus_ when saw you the Prince? _Tim._ I left him now Sir.