Que. But what, but what, come they to visit vs? Boy. They do, they do; and are apparel'd thus, Like Muscouites; or Russians, as I gesse. Their purpose is to parlee, to court, and dance, And euery one his Loue-feat will aduance, Vnto his seuerall mistresse: which they'll know By fauours seuerall, which they did bestow Queen. And will they so? the Gallants shall be taskt: For Ladies; we will euery one be maskt, And not a man of them shall haue the grace Despight of sute, to see a Ladies face. Hold Rosaline, this Fauour thou shalt weare, And then the King will court thee for his Deare: Hold, take thou this my sweet, and giue me thine, So shall Berowne take me for Rosaline. And change your Fauours too, so shall your Loues Woo contrary, deceiu'd by these remoues Rosa. Come on then, weare the fauours most in sight Kath. But in this changing, What is your intent? Queen. The effect of my intent is to crosse theirs: They doe it but in mocking merriment, And mocke for mocke is onely my intent. Their seuerall counsels they vnbosome shall, To Loues mistooke, and so be mockt withall. Vpon the next occasion that we meete, With Visages displayd to talke and greete Ros. But shall we dance, if they desire vs too't? Quee. No, to the death we will not moue a foot, Nor to their pen'd speech render we no grace: But while 'tis spoke, each turne away his face Boy. Why that contempt will kill the keepers heart, And quite diuorce his memory from his part Quee. Therefore I doe it, and I make no doubt, The rest will ere come in, if he be out. Theres no such sport, as sport by sport orethrowne: To make theirs ours, and ours none but our owne. So shall we stay mocking entended game, And they well mockt, depart away with shame. Sound. Boy. The Trompet sounds, be maskt, the maskers come. Enter Black moores with musicke, the Boy with a speech, and the rest of the Lords disguised. Page. All haile, the richest Beauties on the earth Ber. Beauties no richer then rich Taffata Pag. A holy parcell of the fairest dames that euer turn'd their backes to mortall viewes. The Ladies turne their backes to him. Ber. Their eyes villaine, their eyes Pag. That euer turn'd their eyes to mortall viewes. Out Boy. True, out indeed Pag. Out of your fauours heauenly spirits vouchsafe Not to beholde Ber. Once to behold, rogue Pag. Once to behold with your Sunne beamed eyes, With your Sunne beamed eyes Boy. They will not answer to that Epythite, you were best call it Daughter beamed eyes Pag. They do not marke me, and that brings me out Bero. Is this your perfectnesse? be gon you rogue Rosa. What would these strangers? Know their mindes Boyet. If they doe speake our language, 'tis our will That some plaine man recount their purposes. Know what they would? Boyet. What would you with the Princes? Ber. Nothing but peace, and gentle visitation