_Lis._ I kisse thee for her sake, whose beautious hand Hath here inclos’d so mild and sweet a doome. See what a negatiue command shee hath Impos’d vpon my sloth to visit her, As if she taxed my neglect so long: But pardon, deare _Leonida_, I come To intimate thy fauor for my stay, Tho thou wert garded with an host of men. But how? I must disguise me in some other shape, For this is noted, and too full of danger. _Loretta_, Who’s admitted best accesse Vnto thy Lady? _Lor._ Frier _Anthonie_, Her Graces Confessor. _Lis._ As I could wish: I know the Frier well; I must assume that shape; It is the best: _Loretta_, weare this Iewell for my sake; Nay, prethee take it, not as recompence, But as a token of that future good Shall crowne thy merits, with such height and honour, Fortune shall be asham’d, and held a Foole, To suffer poore desert to ouer-match her. _Exit Lis._ _Lor._ I humbly thanke your Grace: Why, here’s a gift Able to make a Saint turne Oratrix, And pleade ’gainst Chastitie: I must confesse, _Lisandro_ is a Noble Gentleman, and ha’s good gifts, And is, indeed, gracious with my Ladie: Yet for all that, wee poore Gentlewomen, that haue no other fortunes but our attendance, must now and then make the best vse of our places: wee haue president, and very lately too. But who comes here? my Lord _Nicanor_? _Enter Nicanor_. Here’s another Client——I must deuise some quaint deuice for him, to delude his frostie apprehension—— Oh I ha’t. _Nic._ _Loretta_, how is’t, wench? How thriues my suit, ha? Hast broke with thy Lady yet? _Lor._ He takes me for a Shee-Broker, but I’le fit him: I haue my Lord, but find her so obdure, That when I speake, she turnes away her eare, As if her mind were fixt on something else. The other day, finding her Grace alone, I came and mou’d your suit; told her how deare She stood in your affection; and protested, You lou’d her more then all the World beside. _Nic._ Good, good: proceed. _Lor._ At this she answer’d not a word, But kept her eye still fixt vpon me; Then I begun agen, and told her Grace (As from my selfe) how much your Honour Had merited her fauour by desert; How great you stood ith’ generall eye of all, And one selected by the King her Father, (Since Prince _Lorenzo’s_ death) to personate The King of Sicill after his decease. _Nic._ Excellent good i’faith. Then what said shee?