[233] Old eds. "Mizaldus aware." [234] Ed. 1613 "Cods-head." [235] So the editor of 1820.--Old eds. "no horse." [236] Ed. 1631 "showres." [237] Ed. 1631 "returnes." ACT III. SCENE I. _Venice.--Outside_ Lady LENTULUS' _house_. CLARIDIANA _and_ ROGERO, _being in a readiness, are received in at one another's houses by their Maids_. _Then enter_ MENDOZA, _with a_ Page, _to the_ Lady LENTULUS' _window_. _Men._ Night, like a solemn mourner, frowns on earth, Envying that day should force her doff her robes, Or Phoebus chase away her melancholy. Heaven's eyes look faintly through her sable masque, And silver Cynthia hides[238] her in her sphere, Scorning to grace black Night's solemnity. Be unpropitious, Night, to villain thoughts, But let thy diamonds shine on virtuous love. This is the lower house of high-built heaven, 9 Where my chaste Phoebe sits inthroned 'mong thoughts So purely good, brings her to heaven on earth. Such power hath souls in contemplation! Sing, boy (though night yet), like the morning's lark-- [_Music plays._ A soul that's clear is light, though heaven be dark. _The_ Lady LENTULUS _at her window_. _Lady Len._ Who speaks in music to us? _Men._ Sweet, 'tis I. Boy, leave me and to bed. [_Exit_ Page. _Lady Len._ I thank you for your music; now, good-night. _Men._ Leave not the world yet, Queen of Chastity; Keep promise with thy love Endymion, And let me meet thee there on Latmus' top. 20 'Tis I, whose virtuous hopes are firmly fix'd On the fruition of thy chaste vow'd love. _Lady Len._ My lord, Your honour made me promise you ascent Into my house, since my vow barr'd my doors, By some wit's engine made for theft and lust; Yet for your honour, and my humble fame, Check your blood's passions, and return, dear lord. Suspicion is a dog that still doth bite Without a cause: this act gives food to envy; 30 Swoll'n big, it bursts, and poisons our clear flames. _Men._ Envy is stingless when she looks on thee. _Lady Len._ Envy is blind, my lord, and cannot see. _Men._ If you break promise, fair, you break my heart. _Lady Len._ Then come,--yet[239] stay! ascend,--yet let us part. I fear,--yet know not what I fear. Your love [i]s precious, yet mine honour's dear. _Men._ If I do stain thy honour with foul lust, May thunder strike me to show Jove is just! _Lady Len._ Then come, my lord; on earth your vow is given. 40 This aid I'll lend you.