Payn. Such as it is you may commaund, faire Princesse.
Kath. But are thy colours fresh, thy pensill smoothe?
Thy hand unwavering, and thy head dislodg'd
Of all unquiet harsh incumbrances?
For thou must draw proportion of those parts
Whose worth to tell my toung wants utterance.
Payn. Feare you not, Madam; I am well prepar'd.
Kat. Then hither strait with youthfull Ferdinand, Navar's stout sonne, there comes an English Knight, Pembrooke they call him, honourably borne. Him (when we are in conference) thou shalt marke And to the life set doune his counterfet. Nor is it needful I should shew him thee! The goodliest person in the traine, that's he.
Bow. Let me alone to give the Paynter destruction. I know him as well as the Begger knowes his dish[113]: he weares a white Scarfe in his hat and an Orange tawny feather upon his arme.
Kath. Foole, indirectly thou describ'st another,
Thats Prince Navar: Pembrooke his plume is Azure
A little intermixt with spotlesse white,
Prefiguring the temper of the Sky
With whose hye motion his great mind doth move.
Bow. Orange tawny and Azure, all's one, all is but feather; there is no difference I am sure but in colour.
Kath. Why, thats as much as may be, is it not?
Bow. Not so, Ile prove the contrary: You are fayre and I am foule; is it that all the difference betweene you and I? there's another thing in it if you marke it well.
Kath. I prythee peace and with thy ignorance
Draw not the Paynter likewise into errour.
Here take thy stand; thou knowst him by these markes
I lately spake of. Seeme to excell thine Arte
And I will study to requite thy paynes.