_Lit._ The morning rises from your Ladies eye, If she looke cleare we take the happy omen Of a faire day. _Bo._ Sheele instantly appeare, To the discredit of your complement, But you expresse your wit thus. _Al._ And you modestie, Nor to affect praises of your owne. _Bor._ Leaving this subject, what games now on foote? What exercise carries the generall vote? Oth towne now nothing moves without your knowledge. _Al._ The cocking now has all the noise, Ile have A hundred peeces of one battle, Oh, These birds of _Mars_! _Lit._ _Venus_ is _Mars_ his bird too. _Al._ Why and the pretty Doves are _Venusses_, To show that kisses draw the Charriot. _Lit._ I am for that skirmish. _Bor._ When shall wee have More Booths and Bag-pipes upon Bansted downes, No mighty race is expected, but my Lady returnes. _Enter Aretina._ _Are._ Faire morning to you gentlemen, You went not late to bed by your early visit, You doe me honour. _Al._ It becomes our service. _Are._ What newes abroade? you hold precious intelligence. _Lit._ All tongues are so much busie with your praise, They have not time to frame other discourse, Will please you Madam? tast a Sugerplum. _Bor._ What do's the Goldsmith thinke the Pearle is worth You borrowed of my Lady? _Al._ Tis a rich one. _Bor._ She has many other toyes whose fashion you, Will like extremely, you have no intention To buy any of her Iewels. _Al._ Vnderstand me. _Bor._ You had rather sell perhaps, but leaving this? I hope you'le dine with us. _Al._ I came a purpose. _Are._ And where were you last night? _Al._ I Madam? where I slept not, it had beene sin where so much Delight and beauty was to keepe me waking, There is a Lady Madam will be worth Your free societie, my conversation Nere knew so elegant and brave a soule, With most incomparable flesh and bloud, So spirited, so Courtly speakes the Languages, Sings, Dances, playes o'th Lute to admiration, Is faire and paints not, games too, keepes a table, And talkes most witty Satyre, has a wit Of a cleane Mercury. _Lit._ Is shee married? _Al._ No. _Are._ A Virgin? _Al._ Neither. _Lit._ What a widow? something Of this wide commendation might have beene Excusd, this such a prodigie? _Al._ Repent Before I name her, shee did never see Yet full sixteene, an age in the opinion Of wise men not contemptible, she ha's Mourned out her yeare too for the honest Knight That had compassion of her youth, and dy'd So timely, such a widow is not common, And now she shines more fresh and tempting Then any naturall Virgin. _Are._ Whats her name? _Al._ Shee was Christened _Celestina_, by her husband The Lady _Bellamour_, this Ring was hers. _Bor._ You borrowed it to coppie out the Posie. _Al._ Are they not pretty Rubies? twas a grace She was pleasd to shew me, that I might have one Made of the same fashion, for I love All prettie formes. _Are._ And is she glorious?