Duke. Piato, well-done, hast brought her! what lady is't?
Ven. Faith, my lord, a country lady, a little bashful at first, as most of them are; but after the first kiss, my lord, the worst is past with them. Your grace knows now what you have to do; she has somewhat a grave look with her—but—
Duke. I love that best; conduct her.
Ven. Have at all. [Aside.
Duke. In gravest looks the greatest faults seem less.
Give me that sin that's rob'd in holiness.
Ven. Back with the torch! brother, raise the perfumes.
Duke. How sweet can a duke breathe! Age has no fault.
Pleasure should meet in a perfumed mist.
Lady, sweetly encountered: I came from court,
I must be bold with you. O, what's this? O!
Ven. Royal villain! white devil!
Duke. O!
Ven. Brother, place the torch here, that his affrighted eyeballs
May start into those hollows. Duke, dost know
Yon dreadful vizard? View it well; 'tis the skull
Of Gloriana, whom thou poisonedst last.