Flo. My Lord, you see all sorts of Jewells heere,
I will not tire your grace with view of them;
Ile onely shew you one faire Aggat more,
Commended chiefely for the workmanship.
Alber. O excellent! this is the very face
Of Cassimeere: by viewing both at once,
Either I thinke that both of them do live
Or both of them are Images and dead.
Flo. My Lord, I feare I trouble you too long: Wilt please your Lordships taste th[e]is homely cates?
Corn. First (if it please you) give me leave to greete Your Princely hand with this unworthy gift, Yet woorthy since it represents your selfe.
Alber. What? my selfe, Lady? trust me it is pittie So faire a Jemme should hold so rude a picture.
Cor. My Lord, 'tis made a Jewell in your picture, Which otherwise had not deserv'd the name.
Alber. Kinde mistresse, kindly I accept your favor.
Enter Lassingbergh, Haunce and Lucilia.
Flo. Heere, you young gentleman; do you know this man?
[Exit Han.