Duke. No grace, nor no respect, I beseech you, more than ordinary friendship allows of: 'tis the only bar to hinder our designs.
Leo. Then, sir, what fashion you are pleased to appoint me, I will be glad to put on.
Duke. 'Tis well. For my part, I am determined to lay by all ensigns of my royalty for awhile, and walk abroad under a mean coverture. Variety does well; and 'tis as great delight sometimes to shroud one's head under a coarse roof as a rich canopy of gold.
Leo. But what's your intent in this?
Duke. I have a longing desire to see the fashions of the vulgar, which, should I affect in mine own person, I might divert them from their humours. The face of greatness would affright them, as Cato did the Floralia[308] from the theatre.
Leo. Indeed familiarity begets boldness.
Duke. 'Tis true, indulgency and flattery take away the benefit of experience from princes, which ennobles the fortunes of private men.
Leo. But you are a duke, sir; and this descent from your honour will undervalue you.
Duke. Not a whit. I am so toiled out with grand affairs and despatching of embassages, that I am ready to sink under the burden. Why may not an Atlas of state, such as myself, that bears up the weight of a commonwealth, now and then, for recreation's sake, be glad to ease his shoulders? Has not Jupiter thrown away his rays and his thunder to walk among mortals? Does not Apollo suffer himself to be deprived of his quiver, that he may waken up his muse sometimes, and sing to his harp.
Leo. Nay, sir, to come to a more familiar example: I have heard of a nobleman that has been drunk with a tinker, and of a magnifico that has played at blow-point.[309]