Ant.  Why then I am a King, and mine own Speaker.

Cel.  And I as free as you, mine own Disposer:  There, take your Jewels; let them give them lustres That have dark Lives and Souls; wear ’em your self, Sir, You’l seem a Devil else.

Ant.  I command ye stay.

Cel.  Be just, I am commanded.

Ant.  I will not wrong ye.

Cel.  Then thus low falls my duty.

Ant.  Can ye love me?  Say I, and all I have—­

Cel.  I cannot love ye;
Without the breach of faith I cannot hear ye;
Ye hang upon my love, like frosts on Lilies: 
I can dye, but I cannot love:  you are answer’d.

Ant.  I must find apter means, I love her truly.

SCENA II.

Enter Demetr.  Leon.  Lieu.  Gent.  Sould. and Host.

Dem.  Hither do you say she is come?

Host.  Yes Sir, I am sure on’t:  For whilest I waited upon ye, putting my Wife in trust, I know not by what means, but the King found her, And hither she was brought; how, or to what end—­

Dem.  My Father found her?

Host.  So my Wife informs me.

Dem. Leontius, pray draw off the Souldiers, I would a while be private.

Leon.  Fall off Gentlemen, The Prince would be alone. [Ex.  Leo and Soul.

Dem.  Is he so cunning?  There is some trick in this, and you must know it, And be an agent too:  which if it prove so—­

Host.  Pull me to pieces, Sir.

Dem.  My Father found her?  My Father brought her hither? went she willingly?

Host.  My Wife sayes full of doubts.

Dem.  I cannot blame her, No more:  there’s no trust, no faith in mankind.

Enter Antigonus, Menippus, Leontius, and Souldiers.

Ant.  Keep her up close, he must not come to see her:  You are welcome nobly now, welcome home Gentlemen; You have done a courteous service on the Enemy Has tyed his Faith for ever; you shall find it; Ye are not now in’s debt Son:  still your sad looks? Leontius, what’s the matter?

Leo.  Truth Sir, I know not.  We have been merry since we went.

Lieu.  I feel it.

Ant.  Come, what’s the matter now? do you want mony?  Sure he has heard o’th’ wench.

Dem.  Is that a want, Sir?  I would fain speak to your Grace.

Ant.  You may do freely.

Dem.  And not deserve your anger?

Ant.  That ye may too.

Dem.  There was a Gentlewoman, and sometimes my prisoner, Which I thought well of Sir:  your Grace conceives me.

Ant.  I do indeed, and with much grief conceive ye; With full as much grief as your Mother bare you.  There was such a Woman:  would I might as well say, There was no such, Demetrius.