[As they are going out, enter
CORNELIUS GALLUS, OVID, TIBULLUS,
PROPERTIUS, HERMOGENES, JULIA, and PLAUTIA.

Gal. Health to the lovely Chloe! you must pardon me, mistress, that
I prefer this fair gentlewoman.

Cyth. I pardon and praise you for it, sir; and I beseech your
excellence, receive her beauties into your knowledge and favour.

Jul. Cytheris, she hath favour and behaviour, that commands as much
of me: and, sweet Chloe, know I do exceedingly love you, and that I
will approve in any grace my father the emperor may shew you. Is
this your husband?

Alb. For fault of a better, if it please your highness.

Chloe. Gods my life, how he shames me!

Cyth. Not a whit, Chloe, they all think you politic and witty; wise
women choose not husbands for the eye, merit, or birth, but wealth
and sovereignty.

Ovid. Sir, we all come to gratulate, for the good report of you.

Tib. And would be glad to deserve your love, sir.

Alb. My wife will answer you all, gentlemen; I'll come to you again
presently.
[Exit.