Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Bartello and Silvio.

Sil. TIs true she is a right good Princess, and a just one,
And Florence when she sets, has lost a Planet.

Bar. My Mistriss? I tell thee gentle Nephew,
There is not such another friend to goodness,
To down-right dealing, to faith and true heart
Within the Christian confines: Before she blest us,
Justice was a Cheese-monger, a meer Cheese-monger,
Weigh'd nothing to the world but Mites and Maggots,
And a main stink: Law like a Horse-courser,
Her rules, and precepts hung with gawdes and ribbonds
And pamper'd up to cousen him that bought her,
When she her self was hackney, lame, and founder'd.

Sil. But the sweet Lady,
Belvidere the bright one—

Bar. I, there's a face indeed: Oh my dear Nephew,
Could a young fellow of thy fiery mettle
Freeze, and that Lady in his Arms?

Sil. I think not.