Mon. Prethee, Neece,
Abandon this lascivious unchaste life;
It is the onely blemish of our house;
Scandall unto our name; a Curtezan!
O what's more odious in the eares of men?
Val. Then why doe men resort to Curtezans,
And the best sort? I scorne inferiour groomes,
Nor will I deign[179] to draw aside my maske
To any meaner then a Noble man.
Come,[180] can you dance? a caper and a kisse:
For every turne Ile fold thee in my armes,
And if thou fal'st, although[181] a-kin we be
That thou maist fall[182] soft, Ile fall under thee.
Oh for the lightnesse of all light heel'd girles,
And I would touch the Ceeling with my lips!
Why art thou sad, Montano?
Mon. On just cause, You know I am banish't from my natiue countrey.
Val. This citie is Meath, thou art of Saxonie.
Mon. But this belongs unto the Saxons Duke, By the decease of the departed Bishop.
Val. Feare not, thou art as safe within my house As if perculliz'd in a wall of brasse. Wheres Vandermas?
Enter Vandermas.
Van. Madam, did you call?
Mon. What noble man is that, a sutor to you?
Val. An excellent Pander, a rare doore-keeper.[183]