_Nic._ Royall, Sir. Be pleased, to cast away these Discontents. _Iago’s_ sorrie for his bold offence. The Queene repents her too, and all the Court Is clowded o’r with griefe: your sadnesse, Sir, Fils euery Subiects heart with heauinesse. Will’t please your Highnesse to behold some pastime, There is a Maske and other sports prepar’d: Prepared to solace you, To steale away your sorrowes. _King._ Who’s that spoke? _Nicanor_, is’t hee? I thought as much: I knew no other would be halfe so kind, Nor carefull of our health: doe what thou wilt, We will deny nothing that thou demandest, My dearest Comforter, stay to my age, The hope of Sicilie lyes now in thee. Come sit by vs, weele see what new deuice Thy diligence——_Nic._ My dutie. _King._ No, thy loue Hath studied to delight thy Soueraigne. Come sit, _Nicanor_. _Nic._ Pardon, Sir, awhile, Ile giue command to see it straight perform’d, And instantly returne. _King._ Make no delay: We haue no ioy but in thy companie. _Nic._ Nor I no Hell, but thy continuance. Ile present that will shorten it, I hope. _King._ _Sforza_, thou louest me too: come neerer vs: But old _Iago_ is a froward Lord, Honest, but lenatiue, ore-swaid too much With pitt e against Iustice, that’s not good: Indeed it is not in a Counsellar. And he has too much of woman, otherwise He might be Ruler of a Monarchie, For policie and wisdome. _Sforza_ sit, Take you your places to behold this Maske. _Enter_ Nicanor. _Nic._ Now they are readie. _King._ Let vm enter then. Come sit by vs, _Nicanor_, and describe The meaning, as they enter. _Enter_ Iago, _and the Queene_. _Iag._ Heere your Grace May vndiscouered sit, and view the Maske, And see how ’tis affected by the King: I know, 'twill nip him to the verie soule. The Maskers. _Enter Musike, dance._ _Nic._ He that leads the Dance, Is called wilfull Ignorance. _King._ The next that pryes on euery side, As if feare his feet did guide, Is held a wretch of base condition, He is titled false Suspition. _Nic._ The third is of a bolder Faction, But more deadly, ’tis Detraction. The last is Crueltie, a King that long, In seeming good, did sacred Iustice wrong. _King._ This Moral’s meant by me: by heauen it is, By Heauen, indeed: for nothing else had power To make me see my Follies. I confesse, ’Twas wilfull Ignorance, and Selfe-conceit, Sooth’d with Hypocrisie, that drew me first Into suspition of my Daughters loue, And call’d it Disobedience: false Suspect, ’Twas thou possest me, that _Leonida_ Was spotted and vnchaste. _Nic._ So, now it workes. _King._ And then Detraction prou’d a deadly Foe. _Iag._ I knew ’twould take effect. _Aur._ Most happily.