Enter Diocles.
I am covetous to die for such a beauty.
Mine Uncle comes: now, if she stand, I am happie.
Cha. Be right again, for honours sake.
Dio. Fair Mistris—
Aur. What man is this? Away. What sawcy fellow?
Dare any such base groom press to salute me?
Dio. Have ye forgot me, Fair, or do you jest with me?
I'le tell ye what I am: come, 'pray ye look lovely.
Nothing but frowns and scorns?
Aur. Who is this fellow?
Dio. I'le tell ye who I am: I am your husband.
Aur. Husband to me?
Dio. To you. I am Dioclesian.