em
fools that give them too humbly.

Chloe. O intolerable, Jupiter! by my troth, lady, I would not for a
world but you had lain in my house; and, i'faith, you shall not pay
a farthing for your board, nor your chambers.

Cyth. O, sweet mistress Chloe! Chloe. I'faith you shall not, lady;
nay, good lady, do not offer it.
[Enter GALLUS and TIBULLUS.
Gal. Come, where be these ladies? By your leave, bright stars, this
gentleman and I are come to man you to court; where your late kind
entertainment is now to be requited with a heavenly banquet.

Cyth. A heavenly banquet; Gallus!

Gal. No less, my dear Cytheris.

Tib. That were not strange, lady, if the epithet were only given
for the company invited thither; your self, and this fair
gentle-woman.

Chloe. Are we invited to court, sir?

Tib. You are, lady, by the great princess Julia; who longs to greet
you with any favours that may worthily make you an often courtier.

Chloe. In sincerity, I thank her, sir. You have a coach, have you
not?

Tib. The princess hath sent her own, lady.

Chloe. O Venus! that's well: I do long to ride in a coach most
vehemently.

Cyth. But, sweet Gallus, pray you resolve me why you give that
heavenly praise to this earthly banquet?

Gal. Because, Cytheris, it must be celebrated by the heavenly
powers: all the gods and goddesses will be there; to two of which
you two must be exalted.

Chloe. A pretty fiction, in truth.

Cyth. A fiction, indeed, Chloe, and fit for the fit of a poet.

Gal. Why, Cytheris, may not poets (from whose divine spirits all
the honours of the gods have been deduced) entreat so much honour
of the gods, to have their divine presence at a poetical banquet?

Cyth. Suppose that no fiction; yet, where are your habilities to
make us two goddesses at your feast?

Gal. Who knows not, Cytheris, that the sacred breath of a true poet
can blow any virtuous humanity up to deity?

Tib. To tell you the female truth, which is the simple truth,
ladies; and to shew that poets, in spite of the world, are able to
deify themselves; at this banquet, to which you are invited, we
intend to assume the figures of the gods; and to give our several
loves the forms of goddesses. Ovid will be Jupiter; the princess
Julia, Juno; Gallus here, Apollo; you, Cytheris, Pallas; I will be
Bacchus; and my love Plautia, Cer