Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.
Enter Lucio.
Luc. Now whilst the young Duke follows his delights,
We that do mean to practise in the State,
Must pick our times, and set our faces in,
And nod our heads as it may prove most fit
For the main good of the dear Common-wealth:
Who's within there?
Enter a Servant.
Serv. My Lord?
Luc. Secretary, fetch the Gown I use to read Petitions in, and the Standish I answer French Letters with: and call in the Gentleman that attends: [Exit Serv.
Little know they that do not deal in State,
How many things there are to be observ'd,
Which seem but little; yet by one of us
(Whose brains do wind about the Common-wealth)
Neglected, cracks our credits utterly.
Enter Gentleman and a Servant.
Sir, but that I do presume upon your secresie, I would not have appear'd to you thus ignorantly attir'd without a tooth-pick in a ribbond, or a Ring in my bandstring.
Gent. Your Lordship sen[t] for me?