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]
_Mon_. I had thought he had bin a gentleman at least.
_Val_. Because of his attire?
_Mon_. True.
_Val_. O the attire
In these corrupted daies is no true signe
To shew the gentleman; peasants now weare robes,
In the habilments of noblemen.
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