_Sanaz._ I saw her, And curiously perused her; and I wonder That she, that did appear to me, that know What beauty is, not worthy the observing, Should so transport you. _Cont._ Troth, my lord, I thought then---- _Coz._ Thought! Didst thou not affirm it? _Cont._ I confess, sir, I did believe so then; but now I hear My lord's opinion to the contrary, I am of another faith: for 'tis not fit That I should contradict him. I am dim, sir; But he's sharp-sighted. _Sanaz._ This is to my wish. [_Aside._ _Coz._ We know not what to think of this; yet would not _Re-enter_ GIOVANNI, HIPPOLITO, _and_ ALPHONSO. Determine rashly of it. [_Aside._]--How do you like My nephew's horsemanship? _Hip._ In my judgment, sir, It is exact and rare. _Alph._ And, to my fancy, He did present great Alexander mounted On his Bucephalus. _Coz._ You are right, courtiers, And know it is your duty to cry up All actions of a prince. _Sanaz._ Do not betray Yourself, you're safe; I have done my part. [_Aside to_ GIOVANNI. _Giov._ I thank you; Nor will I fail. _Coz._ What's your opinion, nephew, Of the horses? _Giov._ Two of them are, in my judgment, The best I ever back'd; I mean the roan, sir, And the brown bay: but for the chestnut-colour'd, Though he be full of metal, hot, and fiery, He treads weak in his pasterns. _Coz._ So: come nearer; This exercise hath put you into a sweat; Take this and dry it: and now I command you To tell me truly what's your censure of Charomonte's daughter, Lidia. _Giov._ I am, sir, A novice in my judgment of a lady; But such as 'tis, your grace shall have it freely. I would not speak ill of her, and am sorry, If I keep myself a friend to truth, I cannot Report her as I would, so much I owe Her reverend father: but I'll give you, sir, As near as I can, her character in little. She's of a goodly stature, and her limbs Not disproportion'd; for her face, it is Far from deformity; yet they flatter her, That style it excellent: her manners are Simple and innocent; but her discourse And wit deserve my pity, more than praise: At the best, my lord, she is a handsome picture, And, that said, all is spoken. _Coz._ I believe you; I ne'er yet found you false. _Giov._ Nor ever shall, sir.-- Forgive me, matchless Lidia! too much love, And jealous fear to lose thee, do compel me, Against my will, my reason, and my knowledge, To be a poor detractor of that beauty, Which fluent Ovid, if he lived again, Would want words to express. [_Aside._ _Coz._ Pray you, make choice of The richest of our furniture for these horses, [_To_ SANAZARRO. And take my nephew with you; we in this Will follow his directions.