_Enter ~After Oberṏ~, King of Fayries, an Antique, who dance about
a Tombe, plac’st conueniently on the Stage, out of the which, suddainly
starts vp as they daunce, ~Bohan~ a Scot, attyred like a ridstall
man, from whom the Antique flyes. ~Oberon~ Manet._
_Bohan._
[Illustration]
Ay say, whats thou?
_Oberon._ Thy friend _Bohan_.
_Bohan._ What wot I, or reck
I that, whay guid man, I reck
no friend, nor ay reck no foe, als 10
ene to me, git the ganging, and
trouble not may whayet, or ays
gar the recon me nene of thay friend, by the mary masse sall I.
_Ober._ Why angrie Scot, I visit thee for loue: then what
mooues thee to wroath?
_Bohan._ The deele awhit reck I thy loue. For I knowe
too well, that true loue tooke her flight twentie winter sence to
heauen, whither till ay can, weele I wot, ay sal nere finde loue:
an thou lou’st me, leaue me to my selfe. But what were those
Puppits that hopt and skipt about me year whayle? 20
_Oberon._ My subiects.
_Boh._ Thay subiects, whay art thou a King?
_Ober._ I am.
_Bohan._ The deele thou art, whay thou look’st not so big as
the king of Clubs, nor so sharpe as the king of Spades, nor so
faine as the king Adaymonds, be the masse ay take thee to bee
the king of false harts: therfore I rid thee away, or ayse so curry
your Kingdome, that yous be glad to runne to saue your life.
_Ober._ Why stoycall Scot, do what thou dar’st to me, heare is
my brest strike. 30
_Boh._ Thou wilt not threap me, this whiniard has gard many
better mẽ to lope thẽ thou: but how now? Gos sayds what wilt
not out? whay thou wich, thou deele, gads sute may whiniard.
_Ober._ Why pull man: but what an twear out, how then?
_Boh._ This then, thou weart best begon first: for ayl so lop
thy lyms, that thouse go with half a knaues carkasse to the deele
_Ober._ Draw it out, now strike foole, canst thou not?
_Boh._ Bread ay gad, what deele is in me, whay tell mee thou
skipiack what art thou?
_Ober._ Nay first tell me what thou wast from thy birth, what 40
thou hast past hitherto, why thou dwellest in a Tombe, & leauest
the world? and then I will release thee of these bonds, before
not.
_Boh._ And not before, then needs must needs sal: I was borne
a gentleman of the best bloud in all _Scotland_, except the king,
when time brought me to age, and death tooke my parents, I
became a Courtier, where though ay list not praise my selfe, ay
engraued the memory of _Boughon_ on the skin-coate of some of
them, and reueld with the proudest.
_Ober._ But why liuing in such reputation, didst thou leaue to 50
be a Courtier?
_Boh._ Because my pride was vanitie, my expence losse, my reward
faire words and large promises, & my hopes spilt, for that
after many yeares seruice, one outran me, and what the deele
should I then do there. No no, flattering knaues that can cog
and prate fastest, speede best in the Court.
_Ober._ To what life didst thou then betake thee?
_Boh._ I then chang’d the Court for the countrey, and the wars
for a wife: but I found the craft of swaines more vile, then the
knauery of courtiers: the charge of children more heauie then 60
seruants, and wiues tongues worse then the warres it selfe: and
therefore I gaue ore that, & went to the Citie to dwell, & there
I kept a great house with smal cheer, but all was nere the neere.
_Ober._ And why?
_Boh._ because in seeking friends, I found table guests to eate
me, & my meat, my wiues gossops to bewray the secrets of my
heart, kindred to betray the effect of my life, which when I noted,
the court ill, the country worse, and the citie worst of all, in
good time my wife died: ay wood she had died twentie winter
sooner by the masse, leauing my two sonnes to the world, and 70
shutting my selfe into this Tombe, where if I dye, I am sure I
am safe from wilde beasts, but whilest I liue, cannot be free frṏ
ill companie. Besides, now I am sure gif all my friends faile me,
I sall haue a graue of mine owne prouiding: this is all. Now
what art thou?
_Ober._ _Oberon_ King of Fayries, that loues thee because thou
hatest the world, and to gratulate thee, I brought those Antiques
to shew thee some sport in daunsing, which thou haste
loued well.
_Bohan._ Ha, ha, ha, thinkest thou those puppits can please 80
me? whay I haue two sonnes, that with one scottish gigge shall
breake the necke of thy Antiques.
_Ober._ That would I faine see.
_Boha._ Why thou shalt, howe boyes.
_Enter Slipper and Nano._
Haud your clacks lads, trattle not for thy life, but gather vppe
your legges and daunce me forthwith a gigge worth the sight.
_Slip._ Why I must talk on Idy fort, wherefore was my tongue
made.
_Boha._ Prattle an thou darst ene word more, and ais dab this 90
whiniard in thy wembe.
_Ober._ Be quiet _Bohan_, Ile strike him dumbe, and his brother
too, their talk shal not hinder our gyg, fall to it, dance I say mã.
_Boh._ Dance Humer, dance, ay rid thee.
_The two dance a gig deuised for the nonst._
Now get you to the wide world with more thẽ my father gaue
me, thats learning enough, both kindes, knauerie & honestie:
and that I gaue you, spend at pleasure.
_Ober._ Nay for their sport I will giue them this gift, to the
Dwarfe I giue a quicke witte, prettie of body, and awarrant his 100
preferment to a Princes seruice, where by his wisdome he shall
gaine more loue then cṏmon. And to loggerhead your sonne,
I giue a wandering life, and promise he shall neuer lacke: and
auow that if in all distresses he call vpon me to helpe him: now
let them go.
_Exeunt with curtesies._
_Boh._ Now King, if thou bee a King, I will shew thee whay I
hate the world by demonstration, in the year 1520. was in
_Scotland_, a king ouerruled with parasites, mifled by lust, & many
circumstances, too long to trattle on now, much like our 110
court of _Scotland_ this day, that story haue I set down, gang with
me to the gallery, & Ile shew thee the same in Action, by guid
fellowes of our country men, and then when thou seest that,
iudge if any wise man would not leaue the world if he could.
_Ober._ That will I see, lead and ile follow thee. _Exeunt._
_Laus Deo detur in Eternum._ _I. i._
_Enter the King of England, the King of Scots, ~Dorithe~ his Queen,
the Countesse, Lady ~Ida~, with other Lords. And ~Ateukin~ with
them aloofe._
_Attus primus. Scena prima._ 120
_K. of Scots._ Brother of England, since our neighboring land,
And neare alliance doth inuite our loues,
The more I think vpon our last accord,
The more I greeue your suddaine parting hence:
First lawes of friendship did confirme our peace,
Now both the seale of faith and marriage bed,
The name of father, and the style of friend,
These force in me affection full confirmd,
So that I greeue, and this my heartie griefe 130
The heauens record, the world may witnesse well
To loose your presence, who are now to me
A father, brother, and a vowed friend.
_K. of Eng._ Link all these louely stiles good king in one,
And since thy griefe exceeds in my depart,
I leaue my _Dorithea_ to enioy, thy whole compact
Loues, and plighted vowes.
Brother of _Scotland_, this is my ioy, my life,
Her fathers honour, and her Countries hope,
Her mothers comfort, and her husbands blisse: 140
I tell thee king, in louing of my _Doll_,
Thou bindst her fathers heart and all his friends
In bands of loue that death cannot dissolue.
_K. of Scots._ Nor can her father loue her like to me,
My liues light, and the comfort of my soule:
Faire _Dorithea_, that wast Englands pride,
Welcome to _Scotland_, and in signe of loue,
Lo I inuest thee with the Scottish Crowne.
Nobles and Ladies, stoupe vnto your Queene.
And Trumpets sound, that Heralds may proclaime, 150
Faire _Dorithea_ peerlesse Queene of Scots.
_All._ Long liue and prosper our faire Q. of Scots.
_Enstall and Crowne her._
_Dor._ Thanks to the king of kings for my dignity,
Thanks to my father, that prouides so carefully,
Thanks to my Lord and husband for this honor,
And thanks to all that loue their King and me.
_All._ Long liue faire _Dorithea_ our true Queene.
_K. of E._ Long shine the sun of _Scotland_ in her pride,
Her fathers comfort, and faire _Scotlands_ Bride. 160
But _Dorithea_, since I must depart,
And leaue thee from thy tender mothers charge,
Let me aduise my louely daughter first,
What best befits her in a forraine land,
Liue _Doll_, for many eyes shall looke on thee,
Haue care of honor and the present state:
For she that steps to height of Maiestie,
Is euen the marke whereat the enemy aimes.
Thy vertues shall be construed to vice,
Thine affable discourse to abiect minde. 170
If coy, detracting tongues will call thee proud:
Be therefore warie in this slippery state,
Honour thy husband, loue him as thy life:
Make choyce of friends, as Eagles of their yoong,
Who sooth no vice, who flatter not for gaine:
But loue such friends as do the truth maintaine.
Thinke on these lessons when thou art alone,
And thou shalt liue in health when I am gone.
_Dor._ I will engraue these preceps in my heart,
And as the wind with calmnesse woes you hence, 180
Euen so I wish the heauens in all mishaps,
May blesse my father with continuall grace.
_K. of E._ Then son farwell, the fauouring windes inuites vs to depart.
Long circumstance in taking princely leaues,
Is more officious then conuenient.
Brother of _Scotland_, loue me in my childe,
You greet me well, if so you will her good.
_K. of Sc._ Then louely _Doll_, and all that fauor me,
Attend to see our English friends at sea,
Let all their charge depend vpon my purse: 190
They are our neighbors, by whose kind accord,
We dare attempt the proudest Potentate.
Onely faire Countesse, and your daughter stay,
With you I haue some other thing to say.
_Exeunt all saue the King, the Countesse,
~Ida~, ~Ateukin~, in all royaltie._
_K. of S._ So let them tryumph that haue cause to ioy,
But wretched King, thy nuptiall knot is death:
Thy Bride the breeder of thy Countries ill,
For thy false heart dissenting from thy hand, 200
Misled by loue, hast made another choyce,
Another choyce, euen when thou vowdst thy soule
To _Dorithea_, Englands choyseff pride,
O then thy wandring eyes bewitcht thy heart,
Euen in the Chappell did thy fancie change,
When periur’d man, though faire _Doll_ had thy hand,
The Scottish _Idaes_ bewtie stale thy heart:
Yet feare and loue hath tyde thy readie tongue
From blabbing forth the passions of thy minde,
Lest fearefull silence haue in suttle lookes 210
Bewrayd the treason of my new vowd loue,
Be faire and louely _Doll_, but here’s the prize
That lodgeth here, and entred through mine eyes,
Yet how so ere I loue, I must be wise.
Now louely Countesse, what reward or grace,
May I imploy on you for this your zeale,
And humble honors done vs in our Court,
In entertainment of the English King.
_Countesse._ It was of dutie Prince that I haue done:
And what in fauour may content me most, 220
Is, that it please your grace to giue me leaue,
For to returne vnto my Countrey home.
_K. of Scots._ But louely _Ida_ is your mind the same?
_Ida._ I count of Court my Lord, as wise men do,
Tis fit for those that knowes what longs thereto:
Each person to his place, the wise to Art,
The Cobler to his clout, the Swaine to Cart.
_K. of Sc._ But _Ida_ you are faire, and bewtie shines,
And seemeth best, where pomp her pride refines.
_Ida._ If bewtie (as I know there’s none in me) 230
Were sworne my loue, and I his life should be:
The farther from the Court I were remoued,
The more I thinke of heauen I were beloued.
_K. of Scots._ And why?
_Ida._ Because the Court is counted _Venus_ net,
Where gifts and vowes for stales are often set,
None, be she chaste as _Vesta_, but shall meete
A curious toong to charme her eares with sweet.
_K. of Scots._ Why _Ida_ then I see you set at naught,
The force of loue. 240
_Ida._ In sooth this is my thoght most gratious king,
That they that little proue
Are mickle blest, from bitter sweets of loue:
And weele I wot, I heard a shepheard sing,
That like a Bee, Loue hath a little sting:
He lurkes in flowres, he pearcheth on the trees,
He on Kings pillowes, bends his prettie knees:
The Boy is blinde, but when he will not spie,
He hath a leaden foote, and wings to flie:
Beshrow me yet, for all these strange effects, 250
If I would like the Lad, that so infects.
_K. of Scots._ Rare wit, fair face, what hart could more desire?
But _Doll_ is faire, and doth concerne thee neere.
Let _Doll_ be faire, she is wonne, but I must woe,
And win faire _Ida_, theres some choyce in two.
But _Ida_ thou art coy.
_Ida._ And why dread King?
_K. of Scots._ In that you will dispraise so sweet
A thing, as loue, had I my wish.
_Ida._ What then? 260
_K. of Scots._ Then would I place his arrow here,
His bewtie in that face.
_Ida._ And were _Apollo_ moued and rulde by me,
His wisedome should be yours, and mine his tree.
_K. of Scots._ But here returnes our traine.
Welcome faire _Doll_: how fares our father, is he shipt and gone.
_Enters the traine backe._
_Dor._ My royall father is both shipt and gone,
God and faire winds direct him to his home.
_K. of Sc._ Amen say I, wold thou wert with him too: 270
Then might I haue a fitter time to woo.
But Countesse you would be gone, therfore farwell
Yet _Ida_ if thou wilt, stay thou behind,
To accompany my Queene.
But if thou like the pleasures of the Court,
Or if she likte me tho she left the Court,
What should I say? I know not what to say,
You may depart, and you my curteous Queene,
Leaue me a space, I haue a waightie cause to thinke vpon:
_Ida_, it nips me neere: 280
It came from thence, I feele it burning heere.
_Exeunt all sauing the King and ~Ateukin~._
_K. of Scot._ Now am I free from sight of commṏ eie,
Where to my selfe I may disclose the griefe
That hath too great a part in mine affects.
_Ateu._ And now is my time, by wiles & words to rise,
Greater then those, that thinks themselues more wise.
_K. of Scots._ And first fond King, thy honor doth engraue,
Vpon thy browes, the drift of thy disgrace:
Thy new vowd loue in sight of God and men, 290
Linke thee to _Dorithea_, during life.
For who more faire and vertuous then thy wife,
Deceitfull murtherer of a quiet minde,
Fond loue, vile lust, that thus misleads vs men,
To vowe our faithes, and fall to sin againe.
But Kings stoupe not to euery common thought,
_Ida_ is faire and wise, fit for a King:
And for faire _Ida_ will I hazard life,
Venture my Kingdome, Country, and my Crowne:
Such fire hath loue, to burne a kingdome downe. 300
Say _Doll_ dislikes, that I estrange my loue,
Am I obedient to a womans looke?
Nay say her father frowne when he shall heare
That I do hold faire _Idaes_ loue so deare:
Let father frowne and fret, and fret and die,
Nor earth, nor heauen shall part my loue and I.
Yea they shall part vs, but we first must meet,
And wo, and win, and yet the world not seet.
Yea ther’s the wound, & wounded with that thoght
So let me die: for all my drift is naught. 310
_Ateu._ Most gratious and imperiall Maiestie,
_K. of S._ A little flattery more were but too much,
Villaine what art thou that thus darest interrupt a Princes secrets.
_Ateu._ Dread King, thy vassall is a man of Art,
Who knowes by constellation of the stars,
By oppositions and by drie aspects,
The things are past, and those that are to come.
_K. of S._ But where’s thy warrant to approach my presence?
_Ateu._ My zeale and ruth to see your graces wrong,
Makes me lament, I did detract so long. 320
_K. of S._ If thou knowst thoughts, tell me what mean I now?
_Ateu._ Ile calculate the cause of those your highnesse smiles,
And tell your thoughts.
_K. of S._ But least thou spend thy time in idlenesse,
And misse the matter that my mind aimes at,
Tell me what star was opposite when that was thought?
He strikes him on the eare.
_Ateu._ Tis inconuenient mightie Potentate,
Whose lookes resembles _Ioue_ in Maiestie,
To scorne the sooth of science with contempt, 330
I see in those imperiall lookes of yours,
The whole discourse of loue, _Saturn_ combust,
With direfull lookes at your natiuitie:
Beheld faire _Venns_ in her siluer orbe,
I know by certaine exiomies I haue read,
Your graces griefs, & further can expresse her name,
That holds you thus in fancies bands.
_K. of S._ Thou talkest wonders.
_Ateu._ Nought but truth O King,
Tis _Ida_ is the mistresse of your heart, 340
Whose youth must take impression of affects,
For tender twigs will bowe, and milder mindes
Will yeeld to fancie be they followed well.
_K. of S._ What god art thou composde in humane shape,
Or bold _Trophonius_ to decide our doubts,
How knowst thou this?
_Ateu._ Euen as I know the meanes,
To worke your graces freedome and your loue:
Had I the mind as many Courtiers haue,
To creepe into your bosome for your coyne, 350
And beg rewards for euery cap and knee,
I then would say, if that your grace would giue
This lease, this manor, or this pattent seald,
For this or that I would effect your loue:
But _Ateukin_ is no Parasite O Prince,
I know your grace knowes schollers are but poore,
And therefore as I blush to beg a fee,
Your mightinesse is so magnificent
You cannot chuse but cast some gift apart,
To ease my bashfull need that cannot beg, 360
As for your loue, oh might I be imployd,
How faithfully would _Ateukin_ compasse it:
But Princes rather trust a smoothing tongue,
Then men of Art that can accept the time.
_K. of Scots._ _Ateu._ If so thy name, for so thou saist,
Thine Art appeares in entrance of my loue:
And since I deeme thy wisedom matcht with truth,
I will exalt thee, and thy selfe alone
Shalt be the Agent to dissolue my griefe.
Sooth is, I loue, and _Ida_ is my loue, 370
But my new marriage nips me neare, _Ateukin_:
For _Dorithea_ may not brooke th’abuse.
_Ateu._ These lets are but as moaths against the sun,
Yet not so great, like dust before the winde:
Yet not so light. Tut pacifie your grace,
You haue the sword and scepter in your hand,
You are the King, the state depends on you:
Your will is law, say that the case were mine,
Were she my sister whom your highnesse loues,
She should consent, for that our liues, our goods, 380
Depend on you, and if your Queene repine,
Although my nature cannot brooke of blood,
And Schollers grieue to heare of murtherous deeds,
But if the Lambe should let the Lyons way,
By my aduise the Lambe should lose her life.
Thus am I bold to speake vnto your grace,
Who am too base to kisse your royall feete,
For I am poore, nor haue I land nor rent,
Nor countenance here in Court, but for my loue,
Your Grace shall find none such within the realme. 390
_K. of S._ Wilt thou effect my loue, shal she be mine?
_Ateu._ Ile gather Moly-rocus, and the earbes,
That heales the wounds of body and the minde,
Ile set out charmes and spels, nought else shalbe left,
To tame the wanton if she shall rebell,
Giue me but tokens of your highnesse trust.
_K. of S._ Thou shalt haue gold, honor and wealth inough,
Winne my Loue, and I will make thee great.
_Ateu._ These words do make me rich most noble Prince,
I am more proude of them then any wealth, 400
Did not your grace suppose I flatter you,
Beleeue me I would boldly publish this:
Was neuer eye that saw a sweeter face,
Nor neuer eare that heard a deeper wit,
Oh God how I am rauisht in your woorth.
_K. of S._ _Ateu._ Follow me, loue must haue ease.
_Ateu._ Ile kisse your highnesse feet, march when you please.
_Exeunt._
_Enter ~Slipper~, ~Nano~, and ~Andrew~, with their billes readie _I. ii._
written in their hands._ 410
_Andrew._ Stand back sir, mine shall stand highest.
_Slip._ Come vnder mine arme sir, or get a footstoole,
Or else by the light of the Moone, I must come to it.
_Nano._ Agree my maisters, euery man to his height,
Though I stand lowest, I hope to get the best maister.
_Andr._ Ere I will stoupe to a thistle, I will change turnes,
As good lucke comes on the right hand, as the left:
Here’s for me, and me, and mine.
_Andr._ But tell me fellowes till better occasion come,
Do you seeke maisters? 420
_Ambo._ We doo.
_Andr._ But what can you do worthie preferment?
_Nano._ Marry I can smell a knaue from a Rat.
_Slip._ And I can licke a dish before a Cat.
_Andr._ And I can finde two fooles vnfought,
How like you that?
But in earnest, now tell me of what trades are you two?
_Slip._ How meane you that sir, of what trade?
Marry Ile tell you, I haue many trades,
The honest trade when I needs must, 430
The filching trade when time serues,
The Cousening trade as I finde occasion.
And I haue more qualities, I cannot abide a ful cup vnkist,
A fat Capon vncaru’d,
A full purse vnpickt,
Nor a foole to prooue a Iustice as you do.
_Andr._ Why sot why calst thou me foole?
_Nano._ For examining wiser then thy selfe.
_Andr._ So doth many more then I in _Scotland_.
_Nano._ Yea those are such, as haue more autthoritie then wit, 440
And more wealth then honestie.
_Slip._ This is my little brother with the great wit, ware him,
But what canst thou do, tel me, that art so inquisitiue of vs?
_Andr._ Any thing that concernes a gentleman to do, that can I do.
_Slip._ So you are of the gentle trade?
_Andr._ True.
_Slip._ Then gentle sir, leaue vs to our selues,
For heare comes one as if he would lack a seruant ere he went.
Ent. _Ateu._ Why so _Ateukin_? this becomes thee best,
Wealth, honour, ease, and angelles in thy chest: 450
Now may I say, as many often sing,
No fishing to the sea, nor seruice to a king.
Vnto this high promotions doth belong,
Meanes to be talkt of in the thickest throng:
And first to fit the humors of my Lord,
Sweete layes and lynes of loue I must record.
And such sweete lynes and louelayes ile endite:
As men may wish for, and my leech delight,
And next a traine of gallants at my heeles,
That men may say, the world doth run on wheeles. 460
For men of art, that rise by indirection,
To honour and the fauour of their King,
Must vse all meanes to saue what they haue got,
And win their fauours whom he neuer knew.
If any frowne to see my fortunes such,
A man must beare a little, not too much:
But in good time these billes partend, I thinke,
That some good fellowes do for seruice seeke.
Read. _If any gentleman, spirituall or temperall, will entertaine
out of his seruice, a young stripling of the age of 30. yeares, that can 470
sleep with the soundest, eate with the hungriest, work with the sickest,
lye with the lowdest, face with the proudest, &c. that can wait in a
Gentlemans chamber, when his maister is a myle of, keepe his stable
when tis emptie, and his purse when tis full, and hath many qualities
woorse then all these, let him write his name and goe his way,
and attendance shall be giuen._
_Ateu._ By my faith a good seruant, which is he?
_Slip._ Trulie sir that am I?
_Ateu._ And why doest thou write such a bill,
Are all these qualities in thee? 480
_Slip._ O Lord I sir, and a great many more,
Some bettet, some worse, some richer some porer,
Why sir do you looke so, do they not please you?
_Ateu._ Trulie no, for they are naught and so art thou,
If thou hast no better qualities, stand by.
_Slip._ O sir, I tell the worst first, but and you lack a man,
I am for you, ile tell you the best qualities I haue.
_Ateu._ Be breefe then.
_Slip._ If you need me in your chamber,
I can keepe the doore at a whistle, in your kitchin, 490
Turne the spit, and licke the pan, and make the fire burne.
But if in the stable.
_Ateu._ Yea there would I vse thee.
_Slip._ Why there you kill me, there am I,
And turne me to a horse & a wench, and I haue no peere.
_Ateu._ Art thou so good in keeping a horse,
I pray thee tell me how many good qualities hath a horse?
_Slip._ Why so sir, a horse hath two properties of a man,
That is a proude heart, and a hardie stomacke,
Foure properties of a Lyon, a broad brest, a stiffe docket, 500
Hold your nose master. A wild countenance, and 4. good legs.
Nine properties of a Foxe, nine of a Hare, nine of an Asse,
And ten of a woman.
_Ateu._ A woman, why what properties of a woman hath a Horse?
_Slip._ O maister, know you not that?
Draw your tables, and write what wise I speake.
First a merry countenance.
Second, a soft pace.
Third, a broad forehead.
Fourth, broad buttockes. 510
Fift, hard of warde.
Sixt, easie to leape vpon.
Seuenth, good at long iourney.
Eight, mouing vnder a man.
Ninth, alway busie with the mouth.
Tenth. Euer chewing on the bridle.
_Ateu._ Thou art a man for me, whats thy name?
_Slip._ An auncient name sir, belonging to the
Chamber and the night gowne. Gesse you that.
_Ateu._ Whats that, _Slipper_? 520
_Slip._ By my faith well gest, and so tis indeed:
Youle be my maister?
_Ateu._ I meane so.
_Slip._ Reade this first.
_Ateu._ Pleaseth it any Gentleman to entertaine
A seruant of more wit then stature,
Let them subscribe, and attendance shall be giuen.
What of this?
_Slip._ He is my brother sir, and we two were borne togither,
Must serue togither, and will die togither, 530
Though we be both hangd.
_Ateu._ Whats thy name?
_Nano._ _Nano._
_Ateu._ The etimologie of which word, is a dwarfe:
Art not thou the old stoykes son that dwels in his Tombe?
_Ambo._ We are.
_Ateu._ Thou art welcome to me,
Wilt thou giue thy selfe wholly to be at my disposition?
_Nano._ In all humilitie I submit my selfe.
_Ateu._ Then will I deck thee Princely, instruct thee courtly, 540
And present thee to the Queene as my gift.
Art thou content?
_Nano._ Yes, and thanke your honor too.
_Slip._ Then welcome brother, and fellow now.
_Andr._ May it please your honor to abase your eye so lowe,
As to looke either on my bill or my selfe.
_Ateu._ What are you?
_An._ By birth a gentleman, in profession a scholler,
And one that knew your honor in _Edenborough_,
Before your worthinesse cald you to this reputation. 550
By me _Andrew Snoord_.
_Ateu._ _Andrew_ I remember thee, follow me,
And we will confer further, for my waightie affaires
For the king, commands me to be briefe at this time.
Come on _Nano_, _Slipper_ follow.
_Exeunt._