Ver. We are given to understand, the injur'd princess,
Whom Count Lorenzo and noble Philippo
Are, unknown to one another, gone in search of,
Hath been seen there disguis'd. Strict inquisition
From the duke himself shall, ere many days,
Give our hopes satisfaction.
Enter Dorothea, Ladies, Francisco, and Clown.
Jas. The ladies, sir. Francisco keeps before, sir,
And Pambo keeps all well behind.
Lod. Yes, there's devout lechery between hawk and buzzard. But, please ye, set the ladies: the masque attends your grace. [Exit.
Ver. Come, ladies, sit. Madonna Dorothea,
Your ingenious lord hath suddenly prepar'd us
For a conceited masque, and himself, it seems,
Plays the presenter.
Dor. Now, fie upon this vanity!
A profane masque? Chastity keep us, ladies.
Ven. What, from a masque? Whereon grounds your wish?
Dor. Marry, my lord, upon experience.
I heard of one once brought his wife to a masque
As chaste as a cold night; but, poor unfortunate fellow,
He lost her in the throng; and she, poor soul,
Came home so crush'd next morning!
Ven. 'Las, that was ill:
But women will be lost against their will.