University of Virginia Library

Scen. II.

Pyle, Elpidia.
Pyl.
Three sent besides? have I so many Rivalls?
I'd thought I'd been the Phœnix of the Citty:
But men have left to judge, not I to be
What I was ever, fair, and smooth, and handsome;
Look we not bright Elpidia, and Maiestique?

Elpi.
Truly sweet Mistris—

Pyl.
How, you paltry Baggage?
Sweet Mistris? when we only want the Tyrants
Approving to be Queen? call us your Grace.

Elp.
Your Grace, me thinks, would make a very Queen,
But that you use to beat your servants so.

Pyl.
Our Maids of Honour you do mean—