_Boh._ So _Oberon_, now it beginnes to worke in kinde,
The auncient Lords by leauing him aliue,
Disliking of his humors and respight,
Lets him run headlong till his flatterers,
Sweeting his thoughts of lucklesse lust, 1170
With vile perswations and alluring words,
Makes him make way by murther to his will,
Iudge fairie king, hast heard a greater ill?
_Ober._ Nor send more vertue in a countrie mayd,
I tell the _Bohan_ it doth make me merrie,
To thinke the deeds the king meanes to performe.
_Boha._ To change that humour stand and see the rest,
I trow my sonne _Slipper_ will shewes a iest.
_Enter Slipper with a companion, bog, or wench, dauncing a
hornpipe, and daunce out againe._ 1180
_Boha._ Now after this beguiling of our thoughts,
And changing them from sad to better glee,
Lets to our sell, and sit and see thee rest,
For I beleeue this Iig will prooue no iest. _Exeunt._
_Chorus Actus 3. Schena Prima._ _III. i._
_Enter Slipper one way, and S. Bartram another way._
_Bar._ Ho fellow, stay and let me speake with thee.
_Sli._ Fellow, frend thou doest disbuse me, I am a Gentlemã.
_Bar._ A Gentleman, how so?
_Slip._ Why I rub horses sir. 1190
_Bar._ And what of that?
_Sip._ Oh simple witted, marke my reason, they that do good
seruice in the Common-weale are Gentlemen, but such as rub
horses do good seruice in the Common-weale, Ergo tarbox
Maister Courtier, a Horse-keeper is a Gentleman.
_Bar._ Heere is ouermuch wit in good earnest:
But sirrha where is thy Maister?
_Slip._ Neither aboue ground nor vnder ground,
Drawing out red into white,
Swallowing that downe without chawing, 1200
That was neuer made without treading.
_Bar._ Why where is hee then?
_Slip._ Why in his seller, drinking a cup of neate and briske
claret, in a boule of siluer: Oh sir the wine runnes trillill down
his throat, which cost the poore viutnerd many a stampe before
it was made: but I must hence sir, I haue haste.
_Bar._ Why whither now I prithee?
_Slip._ Faith sir, to Sir _Siluester_ a Knight hard by, vppon my
Maisters arrand, whom I must certifie this, that the lease of
_Est Spring_ shall bee confirmed, and therefore must I bid him 1210
prouide trash, for my Maister is no friend without mony.
_Bar._ This is the thing for which I sued so long,
This is the lease which I by _Guatoes_ meanes,
Sought to possesse by pattent from the King:
But hee iniurious man, who liues by crafts,
And selles kings fauours for who will giue most,
Hath taken bribes of mee, yet couertly
Will sell away the thing pertaines to mee:
But I haue found a present helpe I hope,
For to preuent his purpose and deceit: 1220
Stay gentle friend.
_Slip._ A good word, thou haste won me,
This word is like a warme candle to a colde stomacke.
_Bar._ Sirra wilt thou for mony and reward,
Conuay me certaine letters out of hand,
From out thy maisters pocket.
_Slip._ Will I sir, why, were it to rob my father, hang
my mother, or any such like trifles, I am at your
commaundement sir, what will you giue me sir?
_S. Bar._ A hundreth pounds. 1230
_Slip._ I am your man, giue me earnest, I am dead at a pocket
sir, why I am a lifter maister, by my occupation.
_S. Bar._ A lifter, what is that?
_Slip._ Why sir, I can lift a pot as well as any man, and picke a
purse assoone as any theefe in my countrie.
_S. Bar._ Why fellow hold, heere is earnest,
Ten pound to assure thee, go dispatch,
And bring it me to yonder Tauerne thou seest,
And assure thy selfe thou shalt both haue
Thy skin full of wine, and the rest of thy mony. 1240
_Slip._ I will sir. Now roome for a Gentleman, my maisters,
who giues mee mony for a faire new Angell, a trimme new
Angell?
_Exeunt._
_Enter Andrew and Purueyer._ _III. ii._
_Pur._ Sirrha, I must needes haue your maisters horses,
The king cannot bee vnserued.
_And._ Sirrha you must needs go without them,
Because my Maister must be serued.
_Pur._ Why I am the kings Purueyer, 1250
And I tell thee I will haue them.
_And._ I am _Ateukins_ seruant, Signior _Andrew_,
And I say thou shalt not haue them.
_Pur._ Heeres my ticket, denie it if thou darst.
_And._ There is the stable, fetch them out if thou darst.
_Pur._ Sirrha, sirrha, tame your tongue, least I make you.
_And._ Sirrha, sirrha, hold your hand, least I bum you.
_Pur._ I tell thee, thy Maisters geldings are good,
And therefore fit for the king.
_An._ I tell thee, my Maisters horses haue gald backes, 1260
And therefore cannot fit the King.
Purueyr, Purueyer, puruey thee of more wit, darst thou presume
to wrong my Lord _Ateukins_, being the chiefest man in
Court.
_Pur._ The more vnhappie Common-weale,
Where flatterers are chiefe in Court.
_And._ What sayest thou?
_Pur._ I say thon art too presumptuous,
And the officers shall schoole thee.
_And._ A figge for them and thee Purueyer, 1270
They seeke a knot in a ring, that would wrong
My maister or his seruants in this Court.
_Enter Iaques._
_Pur._ The world is at a wise passe,
When Nobilitie is a fraid of a flatterer.
_Iaq._ Sirrha, what be you that parley, contra Monsieur my
Lord _Ateukin_, _en bonne foy_, prate you against syr _Altesse_, mee
maka your test to leap from your shoulders, per ma foy cy fere
ie.
_And._ Oh signior Captaine, you shewe your selfe a forward 1280
and friendly Gentleman in my Maisters behalfe, I will cause
him to thanke you.
_Iaq._ _Poultron_ speake me one parola against my bon Gentilhome,
I shal estrampe your guttes, and thumpe your backa,
that you no poynt mannage this tenne ours.
_Pur._ Sirrha come open me the stable,
And let mee haue the horses:
And fellow, for all your French bragges I will doo my dutie.
_And._ Ile make garters of thy guttes,
Thou villaine if thou enter this office. 1290
_Iaq._ Mort lieu, take me that cappa
Pour nostre labeur, be gonne villein in the mort.
_Pur._ What will you resist mee then?
Well the Councell fellow, Shall know of your insolency.
_Exit._
_Andr._ Tell them what thou wilt, and eate that I can best
spare from my backe partes, and get you gone with a vengeance.
_Enter Gnato._
_Ateu._ _Andrew._ 1300
_Andr._ Sir.
_Ateu._ Where be my writings I put in my pocket last night.
_Andr._ Which sir, your annoations vpon Matchauell?
_Ateu._ No sir, the letters pattents for east spring.
_An._ Why sir you talk wonders to me, if you ask that questiṏ.
_Ateu._ Yea sir, and wil work wonders too, which you vnlesse
you finde them out, villaine search me them out and bring thẽ
me, or thou art but dead.
_Andr._ A terrible word in the latter end of a sessions. Master
were you in your right wits yesternight? 1310
_Ateu._ Doest thou doubt it?
_Andr._ I and why not sir, for the greatest Clarkes are not the
wisest, and a foole may dance in a hood, as wel as a wise man in
a bare frock: besides such as giue themselues to _Plulantia_, as you
do maister, are so cholericke of complection, that that which
they burne in fire ouer night, they seeke for with furie the
next morning. Ah I take care of your worship, this common-weale
should haue a great losse of so good a member as you
are.
_Ateu._ Thou flatterest me. 1320
_Andr._ Is it flatterie in me sir to speake you faire?
What is it then in you to dallie with the King?
_Ateu._ Are you prating knaue,
I will teach you bettet nurture?
Is this the care you haue of my wardrop?
Of my accounts, and matters of trust?
_Andr._ Why alasse sir, in times past your garments haue
beene so well inhabited, as your Tenants woulde giue no
place to a Moathe to mangle them, but since you
are growne greater and your Garments more fine and gaye, 1330
if your garments are not fit for hospitallitie, blame your pride,
and commend my cleanlinesse: as for yout writings, I am not
for them, nor they for mee.
_Ateu._ Villaine go, flie, finde them out:
If thou loosest them, thou loosest my credit.
_And._ Alasse sir? can I loose that you neuer had.
_Ateu._ Say you so, then hold feel you that you neuer felt.
_Ia._ Oh Monsieur, aies patient, pardon your pouure vallet,
Me bee at your commaundement.
_Ateu._ Signior _Iaques_ wel met, you shall commaund me, 1340
Sirra go cause my writings be proclamed in the Market place,
Promise a great reward to them that findes them,
Looke where I supt and euery where.
_And._ I will sir, now are two knaues well met, and three well
parted, if you conceiue mine enigma, Gentlemen what shal I
bee then, faith a plaine harpe shilling. _Exeunt._
_Ateu._ _Sieur Iaques_, this our happy meeting hides,
Your friends and me, of care and greeuous toyle,
For I that looke into deserts of men,
And see among the souldiers in this court, 1350
A noble forward minde, and iudge thereof,
Cannot but seeke the meanes to raise them vp:
Who merrit credite in the Common-weale.
To this intent friend _Iaque_ I haue found
A meanes to make you great, and well esteemd,
Both with the king, and with the best in Court:
For I espie in you a valiant minde,
Which makes mee loue, admire, and honour you:
To this intent (if so your trust and faith,
Your secrecie be equall with your force) 1360
I will impart a seruice to thy selfe,
Which if thou doest effect, the King, my selfe,
And what or hee, and I with him can worke,
Shall be imployd in what thou wilt desire.
_Iaq._ Me sweara by my ten bones, my singniar, to be loyal to
your Lordships intents, affaires, ye my monsignieur, _qui non
fera ic pour_. Yea pleasure?
By my sworda me be no babie Lords.
_Ateu._ Then hoping one thy truth, I prithe see,
How kinde _Ateukin_ is to forward mee, 1370
Hold take this earnest pennie of my loue.
And marke my words, the King by me requires,
No slender seruice _Iaques_ at thy hands.
Thou must by privie practise make a way,
The Queene faire _Dorethea_ as she sleepes:
Or how thou wilt, so she be done to death:
Thou shalt not want promotion heare in Court.
_Iaq._ Stabba the woman, per ma foy, monsignieur, me thrusta
my weapon into her belle, so me may be gard per le roy.
Mee de your seruice. 1380
But me no be hanged pur my labor.
_Ateu._ Thou shalt haue warrant _Iaques_ from the King,
None shall outface, gainsay and wrong my friend.
Do not I loue thee _Iaques_? feare not then,
I tell thee who so toucheth thee in ought,
Shall iniure me, I loue, I tender thee:
Thou art a subiect fit to serue his grace,
_Iaques_, I had a written warrant once,
But that by great misfortune late is lost,
Come wend we to S. _Andrewes_, where his grace 1390
Is now in progresse, where he shall assure
Thy safetie, and confirme thee to the act.
_Iaques._ We will attend your noblenesse.
_Exeunt._
_Enter Sir Bartram, Dorothea, the Queene, _III. iii._
Nano, Lord Ross. Ladies
attendants._
_Doro._ Thy credite _Bartram_ in the Scottish Court,,
Thy reuerend yeares, the stricknesse of thy vowes,
All these are meanes sufficient to perswade, 1400
But loue the faithfull lincke of loyall hearts,
That hath possession of my constant minde,
Exiles all dread, subdueth vaine supect,
Me thinks no craft should harbour in that brest,
Where Maiestie and vertue is mstaled:
Me thinke my beautie should not cause my death.
_Bar._ How gladly soueraigne Princesse would I erre,
And binde my shame to saue your royall life:
Tis Princely in your selfe to thinke the best,
To hope his grace is guiltlesse of this crime, 1410
But if in due preuention you default,
How blinde are you that were forwarnd before.
_Doro._ Suspition without cause deserueth blame.
_Bar._ Who sees, and shunne not harmes, deserue the same:
Beholde the tenor of this traiterous plot.
_Doro._ What should I reade? Perhappes he wrote it not.
_Bar._ Heere is his warrant vnder seale and signe,
To _Iaques_ borne in _France_ to murther you.
_Doro._ Ah carelesse King, would God this were not thine
What tho I reade? Ah should I thinke it true? 1420
_Rosse._ The hand and seale confirmes the deede is his.
_Doro._ What know I tho, if now he thinketh this?
_Nauo._ Madame _Lucretius_ faith, that to repent,
Is shildish wisdome to preuent.
_Doro._ What tho?
_Nano._ Then cease your teares, that haue dismaid you,
And crosse the foe before hee haue betrayed you.
_Bar._ What needes this long suggestions in this cause?
When euery circumstance confirmeth trueth:
First let the hidden mercie from aboue, 1430
Confirme your grace, since by a wondrous meanes,
The practise of your daungers came to light:
Next let the tokens of appooued trueth,
Gouerne and stay your thoughts, too much seduc’t,
And marke the sooth, and listen the intent,
Your highnesse knowes, and these my noble Lords,
Can witnesse this, that whilest your husbands sirre
In happie peace possest the Scottish Crowne,
I was his sworne attendant heere in Court,
In daungerous sight I neuer fail’d my Lord. 1440
And since his death, and this your husbands raigne,
No labour, dutie, haue I left vndone,
To testifie my zeale vnto the Crowne:
But now my limmes are weake, mine eyes are dim,
Mine age vnweldie and vnmeete for toyle:
I came to court in hope for seruice past,
To gaine some lease to keepe me beeing olde,
There found I all was vpsie turuy turnd,
My friends displac’ff, the Nobles loth to craue,
Then fought I to the minion of the King, 1450
_Auteukin_, who allured by a bribe,
Assur’d me of the lease for which I fought:
But see the craft, when he had got the graunt,
He wrought to sell it to Sir _Siluester_,
In hope of greater earnings from his hands:
In briefe, I learnt his craft, and wrought the meanes,
By one his needie seruants for reward,
To steale from out his pocket all the briefes,
Which hee perform’d, and with reward resignd
Them when I read (now marke the power of God) 1460
I found this warrant seald among the rest,
To kill your grace, whom God long keepe aliue.
Thus in effect, by wonder are you sau’d,
Trifle not then, bnt seeke a speakie flight,
God will conduct your steppes, and shield the right.
_Dor._ What should I do, ah poore vnhappy Queen?
Borne to indure what fortune can containe,
Ah lasse the deed is too apparant now:
But oh mine eyes were you as bent to hide,
As my poore heart is forward to forgiue. 1470
Ah cruell king, my loue would thee acquite,
Oh what auailes to be allied and matcht
With high estates that marry but in shewe?
Were I baser borne, my meane estate
Could warrant me from this impendent harme,
But to be great and happie these are twaine.
Ah _Rosse_ what shall I do, how shall I worke?
_Rosse._ With speedie letters to your father send,
Who will reuenge you, and defend your right.
_Dor._ As if they kill not me, who with him fight? 1480
As if his brest be toucht, I am not wounded,
As if he waild, my ioyes were not confounded:
We are one heart, tho rent by hate in twaine:
One soule, one essence doth our weale containe:
What then can conquer him that kils not me?
_Rosse._ If this aduice displease, then Madame flee.
_Dor._ Where may I wend or trauel without feare?
_Na._ Where not, in changing this attire you weare?
_Dor._ What shall I clad me like a Country maide?
_Na._ The pollicie is base I am affraide. 1490
_Dor._ Why _Nano_?
_Na._ Aske you why? what may a Queene
March foorth in homely weede and be not seene?
The Rose although in thornie shrubs she spread:
Is still the Rose, her beauties waxe not dead.
And noble mindes altho the coate be bare,
Are by their semblance knowne, how great they are
_Bar._ The Dwarfe saith true.
_Dor._ What garments likste thou than?
_Na._ Such as may make you seeme a proper man. 1500
_Dor._ He makes me blush and smile, tho I am sad.
_Na._ The meanest coat for safetie is not bad.
_Dor._ What shall I iet in breeches like a squire?
Alasse poore dwarfe, thy Mistresle is vnmeete.
_Na._ Tut, go me thus, your cloake before your face,
Your sword vpreard with queint & comely grace,
If any come and question what you bee,
Say you a man, and call for witnesse mee.
_Dor._ What should I weare a sword, to what intent?
_Na._ Madame for shewe, it is an ornament, 1510
If any wrong you, drawe a shining blade
Withdrawes a coward theese that would inuade.
_Dor._ But if I strike, and hee should strike againe,
What should I do? I feare I should bee slaine.
_Nano._ No, take it single on your dagger so,
Ile teach you Madame how to ward a blow.
_Do._ How litle shapes much substance may include?
Sir _Bartram_, _Rosse_, yee Ladies and my friends,
Since presence yeelds me death, and absence life,
Hence will I flie disguised like a squire, 1520
As one that seekes to liue in Itish warres,
You gentle _Rosse_, shal furnish my depart.
_Ross._ Yea Prince, & die with you with all my hart,
Vouchsafe me then in all extreamest states,
To waight on you and serue you with my best.
_Dor._ To me pertaines the woe, liue then in rest:
Friends fare you well, keepe secret my depart,
_Nano_ alone shall my attendant bee.
_Nan._ Then Madame are you mand, I warrant ye,
Giue me a sword, and if there grow debate, 1530
Ile come behinde, and breake your enemies pate.
_Ross._ How sore wee greeue to part so soone away.
_Dor._ Greeue not for those that perish if they stay.
_Nano._ The time in words mispent, is litle woorth,
Madam walke on, and let them bring vs foorth.
_Exeunt._
_Chorus._ _IV. Chor._
_Ent. Boha._ So these sad motions makes the faire sleepe,
And sleep hee shall in quiet and content,
For it would make a marbell melt and weepe 1540
To see these treasons gainst the innocent:
But since shee scapes by flight to saue her life,
The king may chance repent she was his wife:
The rest is ruthfull, yet to beguilde the time,
Tis interlast with merriment and rime.
_Exeuut._
_Actus Quartus. Schena Prima._ _IV. i._
_After a noyse of hornes and showtings, enter certaine
Huntsmen, if you please, singing one way: another
way Ateukin and Iaques, Gnato._ 1550
_Ateu._ Say Gentlemen, where may wee finde the king?
_Hunts._ Euen heere at hand on hunting.
And at this houre hee taken hath a stand,
To kill a Deere.
_Ateu._ A pleasant worke in hand,
Follow your sport, and we will seeke his grace.
_Hunts._ When such him seeke, it is a wofull case.
_Exeunt Huntsman one way, Ateu. and Iaq. another,
Enter Eustace, Ida, and the Countesse._ _IV. ii._
_Count._ Lord _Eustace_, as your youth & vertuous life, 1560
Deserues a faire, more faire and richer wife,
So since I am a mother, and do wit
What wedlocke is, and that which longs to it,
Before I meane my daughter to bestow,
Twere meete that she and I your state did know.
_Eust._ Madame if I consider _Idas_ woorth,
I know my portions merrit none so faire,
And yet I hold in farme and yearly rent,
A thousand pound, which may her state content.
_Count._ But what estate my Lord shall she possesse? 1570
_Eust._ All that is mine, graue Countesse & no lesse.
But _Ida_ will you loue?
_Ida._ I cannot hate.
_Eust._ But will you wedde?
_Ida._ Tis Greeke to mee my Lord,
Ile wish you well, and thereon take my word.
_Eust_. Shall I some signe of fauour then receiue?
_Ida._ I, if her Ladiship will giue me leaue.
_Count._ Do what thou wilt.
_Ida._ Then noble English Peere, 1580
Accept this ring, wherein my heart is set,
A constant heart, with burning flames befret:
But vnder written this: _O morte dura_:
Heereon when so you looke with eyes _Pura_,
The maide you fancie most will fauour you.
_Eust._ Ile trie this heart, in hope to finde it true.
_Enter certaine Huntsmen and ladies._
_Hunts._ Widdowe Countesse well ymet,
Euer may thy ioyes bee many,
Gentle _Ida_ faire beset, 1590
Faire and wise, not fairer any:
Frolike Huntsmen of the game,
Willes you well, and giues you greeting.
_Ida._ Thanks good Woodman for the same,
And our sport and merrie meeting.
_Hunts._ Vnto thee we do present,
Siluer heart with arrow wounded.
_Eust._ This doth shadow my lament,
Both feare and loue confounded.
_Ladies._ To the mother of the mayde, 1600
Faire as th’lillies, red as roses,
Euen so many goods are saide,
As her selfe in heart supposes.
_Count._ What are you friends, that thus doth wish vs wel?
_Hunts._ Your neighbours nigh, that haue on hunting beene,
Who vnderstanding of your walking foorth,
Prepare this traine to entertaine you with,
This Ladie _Douglas_, this Sir _Egmond_ is.
_Count._ Welcome ye Ladies, and thousand thanks for this,
Come enter you a homely widdowes house, 1610
And if mine entertainment please you let vs feast.
_Hunts._ A louely ladie neuer wants a guest.
_Exeunt Manet, Eustace, Ida._
_Eust._ Stay gentle _Ida_, tell me what you deeme,
What doth this hast, this tender heart beseeme?
_Ida._ Why not my Lord, since nature teacheth art,
To sencelesse beastes to cure their greeuous smart.
_Dictanum_ serues to close the wound againe.
_Eust._ What helpe for those that loue?
_Ida._ Why loue againe. 1620
_Eust._ Were I the Hart,
_Ida._ Then I the hearbe would bee.
You shall not die for help, come follow me.
_Exeunt._
_Enter Andrew and Iaques._ _IV. iii._
_Iaq._ _Mon Deiu_, what _malheure_ be this, me come a the chamber,
Signior _Andrew_, _Mon Deiu_, taka my _poinyard en mon maine_,
to giue the _Estocade_ to the _Damoisella, per ma foy, there was
no person, elle cest en alle_.
_And._ The woorse lucke _Iaques_, but because I am thy friend 1630
I will aduise the somewhat towards the attainement of the
gallowes.
_Iaq._ Gallowes, what be that?
_An._ Marrie sir, a place of great promotion, where thou shalt
by one turne aboue ground, rid the world of a knaue, & make
a goodly ensample for all bloodie villaines of thy profession.
_Que ditte vous, Monsieur Andrew?_
_And._ I say _Iaques_, thou must keep this path, and high thee,
for the Q. as I am certified, is departed with her dwarfe, apparelled
like a squire, ouertake her Frenchman, stab her, Ile 1640
promise thee this dubblet shall be happy. _Iaq._ _Purquoy?_
_And._ It shall serue a iolle Gentleman,
Sir _Dominus Monsignior_ Hangman.
_Iaq._ _Cest tout_, _vn_ me will _rama pour le monoy_.
_And._ Go, and the rot consume thee? Oh what a trim world
is this? My maister lius by cousoning the king, I by fllattering
him: _Slipper_ my fellow by stealing: and I by lying: is not this
a wylie accord, Gentlemen. This last night our iolly horsekeeper
beeing well stept in licor, confessed to me the stealing of
my Maisters writings, and his great reward: now dare I not 1650
bewraye him, least he discouer my knauerie, but thus haue I
wrought: I vnderstand he will passe this way, to prouide him
necessaries, but if I and my fellowes faile not, wee will teach
him such a lesson, as shall cost him a chiefe place on pennilesse
bench for his labour: but yond he comes.
_Enter Slipper with a Tailor, a Shoomaker, and a Cutler._
_Slip._ Taylor. _Tayl._ Sir.
_Slip._ Let my dubblet bee white Northren, fiue groates the
yard, I tell thee I will bee braue.
_Tayl._ It shall sir. 1660
_Slip._ Now sir, cut it me like the battlements of a Custerd,
ful of round holes: edge me the sleeues with Couentry-blew,
and let the lynings bee of tenpenny locorum.
_Tayl._ Very good sir.
_Slip._ Make it the amorous cut, a flappe before.
_Tayl._ And why so? that fashion is stale.
_Slip._ Oh friend, thou art a simple fellow, I tell thee, a flap is
a great friend to a storrie, it stands him in stead of cleane napery,
and if a mans shert bee torne, it is a present penthouse to
defend him from a cleane huswifes scoffe. 1670
_Tay._ You say sooth sir.
_Slip._ Holde take thy mony, there is seuen shillings for the
dubblet, and eight for the breeches, seuen and eight, birladie
thirtie sixe is a faire deale of mony.
_Tayl._ Farwell sir.
_Slip._ Nay but stay Taylor.
_Tayl._ Why sir?
_Slipper._ Forget not this speciall mate,
Let my back parts bee well linde,
For there come many winter stormes from a windie bellie, 1680
I tell thee Shoo-maker.
_Shoe-ma._ Gentleman what shoo will it please you to haue?
_Slip._ A fine neate calues leather my friend.
_Shoo._ Oh sir, that is too thin, it will not last you.
_Slip._ I tell thee, it is my neer kinsman, for I am _Slipper_, which
hath his best grace in summer to bee suted in lakus skins,
Guidwife Clarke was my Grandmother, and Goodman Neatherleather
mine Vnckle, but my mother good woman. Alas,
she was a Spaniard, and being wel tande and drest by a good-fellow,
an Englishman, is growne to some wealth: as when I 1690
haue but my vpper parts, clad in her husbands costlie Spannish
leather, I may bee bold to kisse the fayrest Ladies foote
in this contrey.
_Shoo._ You are of high birth sir,
But haue you all your mothers markes on you?
_Slip._ Why knaue?
_Shoomaker._ Because if thou come of the bloud of the _Slippers_,
you should haue a Shoomakers Alle thrust through your
eare.
_Exit._ 1700
_Slip._ Take your earnest friend and be packing,
And meddle not with my progenators _Cutler_.
_Cutler._ Heare sir.
_Slip._ I must haue a Rapier and Dagger.
_Cutler._ A Rapier and Dagger you meane sir?
_Slipper._ Thou saiest true, but it must haue a verie faire edge,
_Cutler._ Why so sir?
_Slip._ Because it may cut by himselfe, for trulie my freende,
I am a man of peace, and weare weapons but for facion.
_Cutler._ Well sir, giue me earnest I will fit you. 1710
_Slip._ Hold take it, I betrust thee friend, let me be wel armed.
_Cutler._ You shall. _Exit Cutler._
_Slip._ Nowe what remaines? theres twentie Crownes for a
house, three crownes for houshol stuffe, six pence to buie a
Constables staffe: nay I will be the chiefe of my parish, there
wants nothing but a wench, a cat, a dog, a wife and a seruant, to
make an hole familie, shall I marrie with _Alice_, good mã _Grimshaues_
daughter, shee is faire, but indeede her tongue is like
Clocks on Shrouetuesday, alwaies out of temper? shall I wed
_Sisley_ of the Whightṏ? Ohn, o she is like a frog in a parcely bed, 1720
as scittish as an ele, if I seek to hãper her, she wil horne me: but
a wench must be had maister _Slip_. Yea and shal be deer friend.
_And._ I now wil driue him from his contemplations. Oh my
mates come forward, the lamb is vnpent, the fox shal preuaile.
_Enter three Antiques, who dance round, and take
Slipper with them._
_Slip._ I will my freend, and I thanke you heartilie, pray keepe
your curtesie, I am yours in the way of an hornepipe, they
are strangers, I see they vnderstand not my language, wee
wee. 1730
_VVhilest they are dauncing, Andrew takes away his money,
and the other Antiques depart._
_Slip._ Nay but my friends, one hornpipe, further a refluence
backe, and two doubles forward: what not one crosse point against
Sundayes. What ho sirrha, you gone, you with the nose
like an Eagle, and you be a right greeke, one turne more,
theeues theeues, I am robd theeues. Is this the knauerie of Fidlers?
Well, I will then binde the hole credit of their occupatiṏ
on a bagpiper, and he for my money, but I will after, and
teach them to caper in a halter, that haue cousoned me of my 1740
money.
_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Nano, Dorothea, _in mans apparell._ _IV. iv._
_Doro._ Ah _Nano_, I am wearie of these weedes,
Wearie to weeld this weapon that I bare:
Wearie of loue, from whom my woe proceedes.
Wearie of toyle, since I haue lost my deare,
O wearie life, where wanted no distresse,
But euery thought is paide with heauinesse.
_Na._ Too much of wearie madame, if you please, 1750
Sit downe, let wearie dye, and take your ease.
_Dorot._ How looke I _Nano_ like a man or no?
_Nano._ If not a man, yet like a manlie shrowe.
_Doro._ If any come and meete vs on the way,
What should we do if they inforce vs stay.
_Na._ Set cap a huffe, and challenge him the field,
Suppose the worst, the weake may fight to yeeld.
_Dorot._ The battaile _Nano_ in this troubled minde,
Is farre more fierce then euer we may finde.
The bodies wounds by medicines may be eased, 1760
But griefes of mindes, by salues are not appealed.
_Na._ Say Madame, will you heare your _Nano_ sing?
_Dor._ Of woe good boy, but of no other thing:
_Na._ What if I sing of fancie will it please?
_Dor._ To such as hope successe, such noats breede ease.
_Na._ What if I sing like _Damon_ to my sheepe?
_Dor._ Like _Phillis_ I will sit me downe to weepe.
_Na._ Nay since my songs afford such pleasure small,
Ile sit me downe, and sing you none at all.
_Doro._ Oh be not angrie _Nano_. 1770
_Nano._ Nay you loath,
To thinke on that, which doth content vs both.
_Doro._ And how?
_Nano._ You scorne desport when you are wearie,
And loath my mirth, who liue to make you merry.
_Doro._ Danger and fear withdraw me from delight.
_Na._ Tis vertue to contemne fals Fortunes spight.
_Do._ What shuld I do to please thee friendly squire?
_Na._ A smile a day, is all I will require:
And if you pay me well the smiles you owe me, 1780
Ile kill this cursed care, or else beshrowe me.
_Doug._ We are descried, oh _Mano_ we are dead.
_Enter Iaques his sword drawne._
_Nano._ Tut yet you walk, you are not dead indeed,
Drawe me your sword, if he your way withstand.
_Do._ And I will seeke for rescue out of hand,
Run _Nano_ runne, preuent thy Princes death.
_Na._ Feare not, ile run all danger out of breath.
_Iaq._ Ah you _calletta_, you _strumpet_, _ta Matressa Doretie este, vous
surprius_ come say your pater noster, _car vous est mort par ma foy_ 1790
_Do._ _Callet_, _me strumpet_, _Catiue_ as thou art
But euen a Princesse borne, who scorne thy threats.
Shall neuer French man say, an English mayd,
Of threats of forraine force will be afraid.
_Iaq._ You no _dire vostre prieges, vrbleme merchants famme_,
_guarda_ your _bresta_, _there me make you die on my morglay_,
_Doro._ God sheeld me haplesse princes and a wife.
_They fight, and shee is sore wounded._
And saue my soule, altho I loose my life.
Ah I am slaine, some piteous power repay, 1800
This murtherers cursed deed, that doth me stay.
_Iaq._ _Elle est tout mort_, me will runne _pur_ a wager, for feare me
be _surpryes_ and _pendu_ for my labour. Be in _Ie meu alera au roy
auy cits me affaires, Ie serra vn chiualier_, for this daies trauaile.
_Exit._
_Enter ~Nano~, S. Cutbert Anderson,
his sword drawne._
_S. Cutb._ Where is this poore distressed gentleman?
_Nano._ Here laid on ground, and wounded to the death. 1810
Ah gentle heart, how are these beautious lookes,
Dimd by the tyrant cruelties of death:
Oh wearie soule, breake thou from forth my brest,
And ioyne thee with the soule I honoured most.
_S. Cut._ Leaue mourning friend, the man is yet aliue,
Some helpe me to conuey him to my house:
There will I see him carefully recured,
And send priuie search to catch the murtherer.
_Nano._ The God of heauen reward the curteous knight.
_Exeunt._ And they beare out _Dorothea_. 1820
_Enter the King of Scots, ~Iaques~, ~Ateukin~, ~Andrew~, ~Iaques~ _IV. v._
running with his swoord one way, the King with his
traine an other way._
_K. of S._ Stay _Iaques_, feare not, sheath thy murthering blade:
Loe here thy King and friends are come abroad,
To saue thee from the terrors of pursuite:
What is she dead?
_Iaq._ Wee Monsieur, elle is blesse per lake teste, oues les espanles,
I warrant she no trouble you.
_Ateu._ Oh then my liege, how happie art thou growne, 1830
How fauoured of the heauens, and blest by loue:
Mee thinkes I see faire _Ida_ in thine armes,
Crauing remission for her late attempt,
Mee thinke I see her blushing steale a kisse:
Vniting both your soules by such a sweete,
And you my King suck Nectar from her lips.
Why then delaies your grace to gaine the rest
You long desired? why loose we forward time?
Write, make me spokesman now, vow marriage,
If she deny your fauour let me die. 1840
_Andr._ Mightie and magnificent potentate, giue credence to
mine honorable good Lord, for I heard the Midwife sweare at
his natiuitie, that the Faieries gaue him the propertie of the
Thracian stone, for who toucheth it, is exempted from griefe,
and he that heareth my Maisters counsell, is alreadle possessed
of happinesse: nay which is more myraculous, as the Noble
man in his infancie lay in his Cradle, a swarme of Bees laid honey
on his lippes, in token of his eloquence. _For melle dulcier
fluit oratio._
_Ateu._ Your grace must beare with imperfections: 1850
This is exceeding loue that makes him speake.
_K. of S._ _Ateukin_ I am rauisht in conceit,
And yet deprest againe with earnest thoughts,
Me thinkes this murther soundeth in mine eare,
A threatning noyse of dire and sharp reuenge.
I am incenst with greefe, yet faine would ioy,
What may I do to end me of these doubts?
_Ateu._ Why Prince it is no murther in a King,
To end an others life to saue his owne,
For you are not as common people bee. 1860
Who die and perish with a fewe mans teares,
But if you faile, the state doth whole default
The Realme is rent in twaine, in such alosse,
And _Aristotle_ holdeth this for true,
Of euills needs we must chuse the least,
Then better were it, that a woman died,
Then all the helpe of _Scotland_ should be blent,
Tis pollicie my liege, in euerie state,
To cut off members that disturbe the head.
And by corruption generation growes. 1870
And contraries maintaine the world and state.
_K. of S._ Enough I am confirmed, _Ateukin_ come,
Rid me of loue, and rid me of my greefe,
Driue thou the tyrant from this tainted brest,
Then may I triumph in the height of ioy,
Go to mine _Ida_, tell her that I vowe,
To raise her head and make her honours great.
Go to mine _Ida_, tell her that her haires,
Salbe embollished with orient pearles,
And Crownes of Saphyrs compassing her browes, 1880
Shall weare with those sweete beauties of her eyes.
Go to mine _Ida_, tell her that my soule
Shall keepe her semblance closed in my brest,
And I in touching of her milke-white mould,
Will thinke me deified in such a grace:
I like no stay, go write and I will signe.
Reward me _Iaques_, giue him store of Crowne.
And sirrha _Andrew_, scout thou here in Court:
And bring me tydings if thou canst perceiue
The least intent of muttering in my traine, 1890
For either those that wrong thy Lord or thee,
Shall suffer death. _Exit_ the King.
_Ateu._ How much ô mightie king,
Is thy _Ateukin_ bound to honour thee:
Bowe thee _Andrew_, bend thine sturdie knees,
Seest thou not here thine onely God on earth?
_Iaq._ Mes on est mon argent Signior.
_Ateu._ Come follow me, his graue I see is made,
That thus on suddain he hath left vs here.
Come _Iaques_, we wil haue our packet soone dispatcht 1900
And you shall be my mate vpon the way.
_Iaq._ Come vous plera Monsieur.
_Exeunt._
_Andr._ Was neuer such a world I thinke before,
When sinners seeme to daunce within a net,
The flatterer and the murtherer they grow big,
By hooke or crooke promotion now is sought,
In such a world where men are so missed,
What should I do? but as the Prouerbe saith,
Runne with the Hare, and hunt with the Hound. 1910
To haue two meanes, beseemes a wittie man:
Now here in Court I may aspire and clime,
By subtiltie for my maisters death.
And if that faile, well fare an other drift:
I will in secret certaine letters send
Vnto the English King, and let him know
The order of his daughters ouerthtow.
That if my maister crack his credit here,
As I am sure long flattery cannot hold,
I may haue meanes within the English Court 1920
To scape the scourge that waits on bad aduice. _Exit._
_Chorus._ _V. Chor._
_Enter Bohan and Obiron._
_Ober._ Beleue me bonny Scot, these slrange euents,
Are passing pleasing, may they end as well.
_Boha._ Else say that _Bohan_ hath a barren skull,
If better motions yet then any past,
Do not more glee to make the fairie greet,
But my small son made prittie hansome shift,
To saue the Queene his Mistresse by his speed. 1930
_Obiro._ Yea you Ladie for his sport he made,
Shall see when least he hopes, Ile stand his friend,
Or else hee capers in a halters end.
_Boha._ What hang my son? I trowe not _Obiran_:
Ile rather die, then see him woe begon.
_Enter a rownd, or some daunce at Pleasure._
_Ober._ _Bohan_ be pleasd, for do they what they will,
Heere is my hand, Ile saue thy son from ill.
_Exit._
_Actus Quintus. Schena Prima._ _V. i._
_Enter the Queene in a night gowne, Ladie Anderson, 1941
and Nano._
_La. And._ My gentle friend beware in taking aire,
Your walkes growe not offensiue to your woundes.
_Do._ Madame I thank you of your courteous care,
My wounds are well nigh clos’d, tho sore they are.
_L. And._ Me thinks these closed wounds should breed more griefe,
Since open wounds haue cure, and find reliefe.
_Dor._ Madame, if vndiscouered wounds you meane,
They are not curde, because they are not seene. 1950
_L. And._ I meane the woundes which do the heart subdue.
_Nano._ Oh that is loue, Madame speake I not true?
_Ladie Anderson ouerheares._
_La. And._ Say it were true, what salue for such a sore?
_Nano._ Be wise, and shut such neighbours out of dore.
_La. And._ How if I cannot driue him from my brest?
_Nano._ Then chaine him well, and let him do his best.
_S. Cutb._ In ripping vp their wounds, I see their wit,
But if these woundes be cured I sorrow it.
_Doro._ Why are you so intentiue to behold, 1960
My pale and wofull lookes, by care controld?
_La. And._ Because in them a readie way is found,
To cure my care, and heale my hidden wound.
_Nano._ Good Maister shut your eyes, keepe that conceit,
Surgeons giue _Quoine_, to get a good receit.
_Doro._ Peace wanton son, this Ladie did amend
My woundes: mine eyes her hidden griefe shall end,
Looke not too much, it is a waightie case.
_Nano._ Where as a man puts on a maidens face,
For many times if Ladies weare them not, 1970
A nine moneths wound with little worke is got.
_S. Cutb._ Ile breake off their dispute, least loue proceed,
From couert smiles, to perfect loue indeed.
_Nano._ The cats abroad, stirre not, the mice bee still.
_L. And._ Tut, wee can flie such cats when so we will.
_S. Cutb._ How fares my guest, take cheare, nought shall default,
That eyther doth concerne your health or ioy,
Vse me, my house, and what is mine is yours.
_Doro._ Thankes gentle knight, and if all hopes be true,
I hope ere long to do as much for you. 1980
_S. Cutb._ Your vertue doth acquite me of that doubt:
But courteous sir, since troubles calles me hence,
I must to _Edenbourg_ vnto the king,
There to take charge, and waight him in his warres:
Meane while good Madame take this squire in charge,
And vse him so as if it were my selfe.
_L. And._ Sir _Cutbert_ doubt not of my dilligence:
Meane while, till your returne God send you health.
_Doro._ God blesse his grace, and if his cause be iust,
Prosper his wartes: if not hee’l mend I trust: 1990
Good sir what mooues the king to fall to armes?
_S. Cutb._ The king of England forrageth his land,
And hath besieged _Dambac_ with mightie force:
What other newes are common in the Court,
Reade you these letters Madame tell the squire,
The whole affaires of state, for I must hence.
_Exit._
_Doro._ God prosper you, and bring you backe from thence:
Madame what newes?
_La. And._ They say the Queene is slaine. 2000
_Doro._ Tut, such reports more false then trueth containe.
_L. And._ but these reports haue made his Nobles leaue him.
_Doro._ Ah carelesse men, and would they so deceiue him?
_La. And._ The land is spoylde, the commons fear the crosse,
All crie against the king, their cause of losse:
The English king subdues and conquers all.
_Doro,_ Ah lasse, this warre growes great, on causes small.
_L. And._ Our Court is desolate, our Prince alone,
Still dreading death.
_Doro._ Woes me, for him I moane, 2010
Helpe, now helpe, a suddaine qualme
Assayles my heart.
_Nano._ Good Madame stand her friend,
Giue vs some licor to refresh her heart.
_L. And._ Daw thou her vp, ande I will fetch thee foorth
Potions of comfort to represse h r paine.
_Exit._
_Nano._ Fie Princesse, faint on euery fond report,
How well nigh had you opened your effate:
Couer these sorrowes with the vaile of ioy, 2020
And hope the best, for why this warre will cause,
A great repentance in your husbands minde.
_Doro._ Ah _Nano_, trees liue not without their sap,
And _Clitia_ cannot blush but on the sunne,
The thirstie earth is broke with many a gap,
And lands are leane, where riuers do not runne,
Where soule is reft from that it loueth best,
How can it thriue or boast of quiet rest?
Thou knowest the Princes losse must be my death,
His griefe, my griefe: his mischiefe must be mine: 2030
Oh if thou loue me, _Nano_ high to court,
Tell _Rosse_, tell _Bartram_ that I am aliue,
Conceale thou yet, the place of my aboade,
Will them euen as they loue their Queene,
As they are charie of my soule and ioy,
To guard the King, to serue him as my Lord:
Haste thee good _Nana_, for my husbands care,
Consumeth mee and wounds mee to the heart.
_Nano._ Madame I go, yet loth to leaue you heere.
_Exeunt._ 2040
_Dor._ Go thou with speed, euen as thou holdst me deare,
Returne in haste.
_Enter Ladie Anderson._
_L. An._ Now sir, what cheare? come tast this broth I bring.
_Doro._ My griefe is past, I feele no further sting.
_L. And._ Where is your dwarfe? Why hath hee left you sir?
_Doro._ For some affaires, hee is not traueld farre.
_L. And._ If so you please, come in and take your rest.
_Doro._ Feare keepes awake a discontented brest.
_Exeunt._ 2050
_After a solemne seruice, enter from the widdowes house a seruice, _V. ii._
musical songs of marriages, or a maske, or what prettie
triumph you list, to them, Ateukin and Gnato._
_Ate._ What means this triumph frend? why are these feasts?
_Serui._ Faire _Ida_ sir, was marryed yesterday,
Vnto sir _Eustace_, and for that intent,
Wee feast and sport it thus to honour them:
And if you please, come in and take your part,
My Ladie is no niggard of her cheare. _Exit._
_Iaq._ _Monsigneur_, why be you so sadda, _fette bon chere fontre 2060
de ce monde_.
_Ateu._ What? was I borne to bee the scorne of kinne?
To gather feathers like to a hopper crowe,
And loose them in the height of all my pompe:
Accursed man now is my credite lost:
Where is my vowes I made vnto the king?
What shall become of mee, if hee shall heare,
That I haue causde him kill a vertuous Queene?
And hope in vaine for that which now is lost:
Where shall I hide my head? I knowe the heauens 2070
Are iust, and will reuenge: I know my sinnes
Exceede compare: should I proceed in this?
This _Eustace_ must a man be made away:
Oh were I dead, how happy should I bee?
_Iaq._ _Est ce donque a tell poynt vostre estat_, faith then
adeiu _Scotland_, adeiu _Signior Ateukin_, me will homa
to _France_, and no be hanged in a strange country. _Exit._
_Ateu._ Thou doest me good to leaue me thus alone,
That galling griefe and I may yoake in one:
Oh what are subtile meanes to clime on high? 2080
When euery fall swarmes with exceeding shame?
I promist _Idaes_ loue vnto the Prince,
But shee is lost, and I am false forsworne:
I practis’d _Dorotheas_ haplesse death,
And by this practise haue commenst a warre.
Oh cursed race of men that traficque guile,
And in the end, themselues and kings beguile:
A shamde to looke vpon my Prince againe:
A shamde of my suggestions and aduise:
A shamde of life: a shamde that I haue erde: 2090
Ile hide my selfe, expecting for my shame.
Thus God doth worke with those, that purschase fame
By flattery, and make their Prince their gaine. _Exeunt._
_Enter the King of England, Lord Percey, Samles, and others._ _V. iii._
_Arius._ Thus farre the English Peeres haue we displayde,
Our wauing Ensignes with a happy warre,
Thus neerely hath our furious rage reuengde,
My daughters death vpon the traiterous Scot,
And now before _Dambar_ our campe is pitcht,
Which if it yeeld not to our compremise, 2100
The place shall furrow where the pallace stood,
And furie shall enuy so high a power,
That mercie shall bee bannisht from our swords.
_Doug._ What seekes the English King?
_Arius._ Scot open those gates, and let me enter in,
Submit thy selfe and thine vnto my grace,
Or I will put each mothers sonne to death,
And lay this Cittie leuell with the ground.
_Doug._ For what offence? for what default of ours?
Art thou incenst so sore against our state? 2110
Can generous hearts in nature bee so sterne
To pray on those that neuer did offend?
What tho the Lyon, (king of brutish race,
Through outrage sinne, shall lambes be therefore slaine?
Or is it lawfull that the humble die,
Because the mightie do gainsay the right?
O English King, thou bearest in thy brest,
The King of beasts, that harmes not yeelding ones,
The Roseall crosse is spred within thy field,
A signe of peace, not of reuenging warre: 2120
Be gracious then vnto this little towne,
And tho we haue withstood thee for a while,
To shew alleageance to our liefest liege,
Yet since wee know no hope of any helpe,
Take vs to mercie, for wee yeeld our selues.
_Ari._ What shall I enter then and be your Lord?
_Doug._ We will submit vs to the English king.
_They descend downe, open the gates, and humble them._
_Arius._ Now life and death dependeth on my sword:
This hand now reard, my _Douglas_ if I list, 2130
Could part thy head and shoulders both in twaine:
But since I see thee wise and olde in yeares,
True to thy king, and faithfull in his warres,
Liue thou and thine, _Dambar_ is too too small,
To giue an entrance to the English king,
I Eaglelike disdaine these little soules,
And looke on none but those that dare resist,
Enter your towne as those that liue by me,
For others that resist, kill, forrage, spoyle:
Mine English souldiers, as you loue your king, 2140
Reuenge his daughters death, and do me right.
_Exeunt_,
_Enter the Lawyer, the Merchant, and the Diuine._ _V. iv._
_Lawyer._ My friends, what thinke you of this present state,
Were euer seene such changes in a time?
The manners and the fashions of this age,
Are like the _Ermine_ skinne so full of spots,
As soone may the Moore bee washed white,
Then these corruptions bannisht from this Realme.
_Merch._ What sees mas Lawyer in this state amisse? 2150
_Law._ A wresting power that makes a nose of wax,
Of grounded lawe, a damde and subtile drift,
In all estates to clime by others losse,
An eager thrift of wealth, forgetting trueth,
Might I ascend vnto the highest states,
And by discent discouer euery crime,
My friends I should lament, and you would greeue
To see the haplesse ruines of this Realme.
_Diu._ O Lawyer, thou haste curious eyes to prie,
Into the secrets maimes of their estate, 2160
But if thy vaile of error were vnmaskt,
Thy selfe should see your sect, do maime her most:
Are you not those that should maintaine the peace,
Yet onely are the patrones of our strife?
If your profession haue his ground and spring,
First from the lawes of God, then countriees right,
Not any waies inuerting natures power,
Why thriue you by contentions? Why deuise you
Clawses, and subtile reasons toexcept:
Our state was first before you grew so great, 2170
A Lanterne to the world for vnitie:
Now they that are befriended, and are rich,
Or presse the poore, come _Homer_ without quoine,
He is not heard: What shall we terme this drift?
To say the poore mans cause is good and iust,
And yet the rich man gaines the best in lawe:
It is your guise, (the more the world laments)
To quoine _Prouisoes_ to beguile your lawes,
To make a gay pretext of due proceeding,
When you delay your common pleas for yeares: 2180
Mark what these dealings lately here haue wroght:
The craftie men haue purchaste greatmens lands
They powle, they pinch, their tennants are vndone:
If these complaine by you they are vndone,
You fleese them of their quoine, their children beg,
And many want, because you may bee rich,
This scarre is mightie maister Lawyer,
Now man hath gotten head within this land,
Marke but the guise, the poore man that is wrongd,
Is readie to rebell: hee spoyles, he pilles, 2190
We need no foes to forrage that wee haue,
The lawe (say they) in peace consumed vs,
And now in warre wee will consume the lawe:
Looke to this mischiefe, Lawyers conscience knowes
You liue amisse, amend it, least you end.
_Law._ Good Lord, that their Diuines should see so farre
In others faults, without amending theirs?
Sir, sir, the generall defaults in state,
(If you would read before you did correct)
Are by a hidden working from aboue, 2200
By their successiue changes still remainde,
Were not the lawe by contraries maintainde,
How could the trueth from falsehood be discernde?
Did wee not tast the bitternesse of warre?
How could wee knowe the sweet effects of peace?
Did wee not feele the nipping winter frostes,
How should we know the sweetnesse of the spring?
Should all things still remaine in one estate,
Should not in greatest arts some scarres be found,
Were all vpright and changd, what world were this? 2210
A _Chaos_, made of quiet, yet no world,
Because the parts thereof did still accord,
This matter craues a variance not a speech,
But sir Diuine to you, looke on your maimes,
Diuisions, sects, your summonies and bribes:
Your cloaking with the great, for feare to fall,
You shall perceiue you are the cause of all.
Did each man know there were a storme at hand,
Who would not cloath him well, to shun the wet?
Did Prince and Peere, the Lawyer and the least, 2220
Know what were sinne, without a partiall glose,
Wee need no long discouery then of crimes,
For each would mend, aduis’de by holy men:
Thus but slightly shadow out your sinnes,
But if they were depainted out for life,
Alasse wee both had wounds inough to heale.
_Merch._ None of you both I see but are in fault,
Thus simple men as I do swallow flies,
This graue Diuine can tell vs what to do,
But wee may say: Phisitian mend thy selfe, 2230
This Lawyer hath a pregnant wit to talke,
But all are words, I see no deeds of woorth.
_Law._ Good Merchant lay your fingers on your mouth,
Be not a blab, for feare you bite your selfe,
What should I terme your state, but euen the way
To euery ruine in this Common-weale,
You bring vs in the meanes of all excesse,
You rate it, and retalde it as you please,
You sweare, forsweare, and all to compasse wealth,
Your mony is your God, your hoord your heauen, 2240
You are the groundworke ofcontention:
First heedlesse youth, by you is ouerreacht,
Wee are corrupted by your many crownes:
The Gentlemen, whose titles you haue bought,
Loose all their fathers toyle within a day,
Whilst _Hob_ your sonne, and _Sib_ your nutbrowne childe,
Are Gentle folkes, and Gentles are beguilde:
This makes so many Noble maides to stray,
And take sinister courses in the state. _Enter a Scout._
_Scout._ My friends begone and if you loue your liues, 2250
The King of England marcheth heere at hand,
Enter the campe for feare you bee surprisde.
_Diuine._ Thankes gentle scout, God mend that is amisse,
And place true, zeale whereas corruption is. ._Exeun.._
_Enter Dorothea, Ladie Anderson and Nano._ _V. v._
_Doro._ What newes in Court, _Nano_ let vs know it?
_Nano._ If so you please my Lord, I straight will shew it:
The English king hath all the borders spoyld,
Hath taken _Morton_ prisoner, and hath slaine
Seuen thousand Scottish Lords, not sarre from _Twearde_. 2260
_Doro._ A wofull murther, and a bloodie deed.
_Nano._ Thinking our liege hath sought by many meanes
For to appease his enemie by prayers,
Nought will preuaile vnlesse hee can restore,
Faire _Dorothea_ long supposed dead:
To this intent he hath proclaimed late,
That who so euer returne the Queene to Court,
Shall haue a thousand Markes for his reward.
_L. And._ He loues her then I see, altho inforst,
That would bestow such gifts for to regaine her: 2270
Why sit you sad, good sir be not dismaide.
_Na._ Ile lay my life this man would be a maide.
_Dor._ Faine would I shewe my selfe, and change my tire.
_And._ Whereon diuine you sir?
_Na._ Vppon desire.
Madam marke but my skill, ile lay my life,
My maister here, will prooue a married wife.
_Doro._ Wilt thou bewray me _Nano_?
_Nano._ Madam no:
You are a man, and like a man you goe. 2280
But I that am in speculation seene,
Know you would change your state to be a Queen.
_Dor._ Thou art not dwarffe to learne thy mistresse mind:
Faine would I with thy selfe disclose my kind,
But yet I blush.
_Na._ What blush you Madam than,
To be your selfe, who are a fayned man?
Let me alone.
_La. And._ Deceitfull beautie hast thou scornd me so?
_Nano._ Nay muse not maiden, for she tels you true. 2290
_La. An._ Beautie bred loue, and loue hath bred my shame.
_N._ And womens faces work more wrongs then these:
Take comfort Madam to cure our disease.
And yet he loues a man as well as you,
Onely this difference, she cannot fancie too.
_La. An._ Blush, greeue, and die, in thine insaciat lust.
_Do._ Nay liue and ioy that thou hast won a friend,
That loues thee as his life, by god desert.
_La. And._ I ioy my Lord more then my tongue can tell:
Alhough not as I desir’d, I loue you well: 2300
But modestie, that neuer blusht before,
Discouer my false heart. I say no more.
Let me alone.
_Doro._ Good _Nano_ stay a while.
Were I not sad, how kindlie could I smile,
To see how faine I am to leaue this weede:
And yet I faint to shewe my selfe indeede.
But danger hates delay, I will be bold,
Faire Ladie I am not, suppose
A man, but euen that Qeene, more haplesse I, 2310
Whom Scottish King appointed hath to die:
I am the haplesse Princesse, for whose right,
These kings in bloudie warres reuenge dispight.
I am that _Dorothea_ whom they seeke,
Yours bounden for your kindnesse and releefe:
And since you are the meanes that saue my life,
Your selfe and I will to the Camp repaire,
Whereas your husband shal enioy reward,
And bring me to his highnesse once againe.
_An._ Pardon most gratious Princesse, if you please, 2320
My rude discourse and homelie entertaine,
And if my words may sauour any worth,
Vouchsafe my counsaile in this waightie cause:
Since that our liege hath so vnkindly dealt:
Giue him no trust, returne vnto your syre,
There may you safelie liue in spight of him.
_Doro._ Ah Ladie, so wold worldly counsell work,
But constancie, obedience, and my loue,
In that my husband is my Lord and chiefe,
These call me to compassion of his estate, 2330
Disswade me not, for vertue will not change,
_An._ What woonderous constancie is this I heare?
If English dames their husbands loue so deer,
I feare me in the world they haue no peere.
_Na._ Come Princes wend, and let vs change your weede,
I long to see you now a Queene indeede.
_Exeunt._
_Enter the King of Scots, the English Herauld & Lords._ _V. vi._
_K. of S._ He would haue parly Lords, Herauld say he shall,
And get thee gone: goe leaue me to my selfe: 2340
Twixt loue and feare, continuall is the warres:
The one assures me of my _Idaes_ loue,
The other moues me for my murthred Queene.
Thus finde I greefe of that whereon I ioy,
And doubt, in greatest hope, and death in weale,
Ah lasse what hell may be compared with mine,
Since in extreames my comforts do consist?
Warre then will cease, when dead ones are reuiued.
Some then will yeelde, when I am dead for hope.
Who doth disturbe me? _Andrew?_ 2350
_Andrew enter with Slipper._
_Andr._ I my liege.
_K. of S._ What newes?
_Andr._ I thinke my mouth was made at first,
To tell these tragique tales my liefest Lord.
_K. of S._ What is _Ateukin_ dead, tell me the worst?
_Andr._ No but your _Ida_, shall I tell him all?
Is married late (ah shall I say to whom?)
My maister sad: (for why he shames the Court)
Is fled away? ah most vnhappie flight. 2360
Onelie my selfe, ah who can loue you more?
To shew my dutie (dutie past beliefe)
Am come vnto your grace (oh gratious liege)
To let you know, oh would it weare not thus,
That loue is vain, and maids soone lost and wonne.
_K. of S._ How haue the partial heauens thẽ dealt with me,
Boading my weale, for to abase my power?
Alas what thronging thoughts do me oppresse?
Iniurious loue is partiall in my right,
And flattering tongues by whom I wasmisled, 2370
Haue laid a snare to spoyle my state and me.
Methinkes I heare my _Dorotheas_ goast,
Howling reuenge for my accursed hate,
The gifts of those my subiects that are slaine,
Pursue me crying out, woe, woe, to lust,
The foe pursues me at my pallace doore:
He breakes my rest and spoyles me in my Camp,
Ah flattering broode of _Sicophants_ my foes,
First shall my dire reuenge begin on you,
I will reward thee _Andrew_. 2380
_Slip._ Nay sir if you be in your deeds of charitie, remember me
I rubd M. _Ateukins_ horse heeles, when he rid to the medowes.
_K. of S._ And thou shalt haue thy recompence for that.
Lords beare them to the prison, chaine them fast,
Vntil we take some order for their deathes.
_And._ If so your grace in such sort giue rewards,
Let me haue nought, I am content to want.
_Slip._ Then I pray sir giue me all, I am as ready for a reward as
an oyster for a fresh tide, spare not me sir.
_K. of S._ Then hang them both as traitors to the King. 2390
_Slip._ The case is altered, sir, ile none of your gifts, what I take
a reward at your hands? Maister, faith sir no: I am a man of a
better conscience.
_K. of S._ Why dallie you? go draw them hence away.
_Slip._ Why alas sir, I wil go away I thanke you gentle friends,
I pray you spare your pains, I will not trouble his honors maistership,
ile run away.
_Enter ~Adam~, and Antiques, and carrie away the Clowne,
he makes pots, and sports, and scornes._
Why stay you? moue me not, let search be made, 2400
For vile _Ateukin_, who so findes him out,
Shall haue fiue hundreth markes for his reward.
Away with the Lords troupes about my tent,
Let all our souldiers stand in battaile ray,
For lo the English to their parley come.
_March ouer brauelie first the English hoste, the sword caried
before the King by Percy. The Scottish on the other side,
with all their pompe brauelie._
_K. of S._ What seekes the King of _England_ in this land?
_K. of Eng._ False traiterous Scot, I come for to reuenge 2410
My daughters death: I come to spoyle thy wealth,
Since thou hast spoyld me of my marriage ioy.
I come to heape thy land with Carkasses,
That this thy thriftie soyle choakt vp with blood,
May thunder forth reuenge vpon thy head.
I come to quit thy louelesse loue with death,
In briefe, no meanes of peace shall ere be found,
Except I haue my daughter or thy head.
_K. of S._ My head proud King? abase thy prancking plaines,
So striuing fondly, maiest thou catch thy graue. 2420
But if true iudgement do direct thy course,
These lawfull reasons should deuide the warre,
Faith not by my consent thy daughter dyed.
_K. of E._ Thou liest false Scot, thy agẽts haue cṏfest it.
These are but fond delayes, thou canst not thinke
A meanes for to reconcile me for thy friend,
I haue thy parasites confession pend:
What then canst thou alleage in thy excuse?
_K. of S._ I will repay the raunsome for her bloud.
_K. of E._ What thinkst thou catiue, I wil sel my child, 2430
No if thou be a Prince and man at armes,
In singule combat come and trie thy right,
Else will I prooue thee recreant to thy face.
_K. of S._ I tooke no combat false iniurious King,
But since thou needlesse art inclinde to warre,
Do what thou darest we are in open field.
Arming thy battailes I will fight with thee.
_K. of E._ Agreed, now ttumpets sound a dreadfull charge
Fight for your Princesse, braue English men:
Now for your lands your children and your wiues, 2440
My Scottish Peeres, and lastly for your King.
_Alarũ soũded, both the battailes offer to meet, & as the
Kings are ioyning battaile, Enter sir Cutber tohis Lady
Cutbert, with the Queene Dorothea richly attired._
_S. Cut._ Stay Princes wage not warre, a priuie grudge
Twixt such as you (most high in Maiestie)
Afflicts both nocent and the innocent,
How many swordes deere Princes see I drawne?
The friend against his friend, a deadly friend:
A desperate diuision in those lands, 2450
Which if they ioyne in one, commaund the world.
Oh stay with reason mittigate your rage,
And let an old man humbled on his knees,
Intreat a boone good Princes of you both.
_K. of En._ I condiscend, for why thy reuerend years
Import some newes of truth and consequence,
I am content, for _Anderson_ I know.
_K. of S._ Thou art my subiect and doest meane me good.
_S. Cut. And._ But by your gratious fauours grant me this,
To sweare vpon your sword to do me right. 2460
_K. of Eng._ See by my sword, and by a Princes faith,
In euery lawfull sort I am thine owne.
_K. of S._ And by my Scepter and the Scortish Crowne,
I am resolu’d to grant thee thy request.
_Cutb._ I see you trust me Princes who repose,
The waight of such a warre vpon my will.
Now marke my sute, a tender Lyons whelpe,
This other day came stragling in the woods,
Attended by a young and tender hinde,
In courage hautie, yet tyred like a lambe, 2470
The Prince of beasts had left this young in keepe,
To foster vp as louemate and compeere,
Vnto the Lyons mate a naibour friend,
This stately guide seduced by the fox,
Sent forth an eger Woolfe bred vp in _France_,
That gript the tender whelp, and wounded it.
By chance as I was hunting in the woods,
I heard the moane the hinde made for the whelpe,
I tooke them both, and brought them to my house,
With charie care I haue recurde the one, 2480
And since I know the lyons are at strife,
About the losse and dammage of the young,
I bring her home, make claime to her who list.
_Hee discouereth her._
_Doro._ I am the whelpe, bred by this Lyon vp,
This royall English king my happy sire,
Poore _Nano_ is the hinde that tended me:
My father Scottish king, gaue me to thee:
A haplesse wife, thou quite misled by youth,
Haste fought sinister loues and forraine ioyes, 2490
The fox _Ateukin_, cursed Parasite,
Incenst your grace to send the woolfe abroad,
The French borne _Iaques_, for to end my daies,
Hee traiterous man, pursued me in the woods,
And left mee wounded, where this noble knight,
Both rescued me and mine, and sau’d my life.
Now keep thy promise, _Dorothea_ liues:
Giue _Anderson_ his due and iust reward:
And since you kings, your warres began by me,
Since I am safe, returne surcease your fight. 2500
_K. of S._ Durst I presume to looke vpon those eies,
Which I haue tired with a world of woes,
Or did I thinke submission were ynough,
Or sighes might make an entrance to my soule:
You heauens, you know how willing I wold weep:
You heauens can tell, how glad I would submit:
You heauens can say, how firmly I would sigh.
_Do._ Shame me not Prince, companion in thy bed,
Youth hath missed: tut but a little fault,
Tis kingly to amend what is amisse: 2510
Might I with twise as many paines as these,
Vnite our hearts, then should my wedded Lord,
See how incessaunt labours I would take.
My gracious father gouerne your affects,
Giue me that hand, that oft hath blest this head,
And claspe thine armes, that haue embraced this,
About the shoulders of my wedded spouse:
Ah mightie Prince, this king and I am one,
Spoyle thou his subiects, thou despoylest me:
Touch thou his brest, thou doest attaint this heart, 2520
Oh bee my father then in louing him.
_K. of Eng._ Thou prouident kinde mother of increase,
Thou must preuaile, ah nature thou must rule:
Holde daughter, ioyne my hand and his in one,
I will embrace him for to fauour thee,
I call him friend, and take him for my sonne.
_Dor._ Ah royall husband, see what God hath wrought,
Thy foe is now thy friend: good men at armes,
Do you the like, these nations if they ioyne,
What Monarch with his leigemen in this world, 2530
Dare but encounter you in open fielde?
_K. of S._ Al wisedome ioynde with godly pietie,
Thou English king, pardon my former youth,
And pardon courteous Queen my great misdeed:
And for assurance of mine after life,
I take religious vowes before my God,
To honour thee for fauour, her for wife.
_L. And._ But yet my boones good Princes are not past,
First English king I humbly do request,
That by your meanes our Princesse may vnite, 2540
Her loue vnto mine alder truest loue,
Now you will loue, maintaine and helpe them both.
_K. of Eng._ Good _Anderson_, I graunt thee thy request.
_L. And._ But you my Prince must yeelde me mickle more:
You know your Nobles are your chiefest ffaies,
And long time haue been bannisht from your Court,
Embrace and reeoncile them to your selfe:
They are your hands, whereby you oght to worke.
As for _Ateukin_, and his lewde compeeres,
That sooth’d you in your sinnes and youthly pompe, 2550
Exile, torment, and punish such as they,
For greater vipers neuer may be found
Within a date, then such aspiring heads,
That reck not how they clime, so that they clime.
_K. of S._ Guid Knight I graunt thy sute, first I submit
And humble craue a pardon of your grace:
Next courteous Queene, I pray thee by thy loues,
Forgiue mine errors past, and pardon mee.
My Lords and Princes, if I haue misdone,
(As I haue wrongd indeed both you and yours) 2560
Heereafter trust me, you are deare to me:
As for _Auteukin_, who so findes the man,
Let him haue Martiall lawe, and straight be hangd,
As (all his vaine arbetters now are diuided)
And _Anderson_ our Treasurer shall pay,
Three thousand Markes, for friendly recompence.
_L. Andr._ But Princes whilst you friend it thus in one,
Me thinks of friendship, _Nano_ shall haue none.
_Doro._ What would my Dwarfe, that I will not bestow?
_Nano._ My boone faire Queene is this, that you would go, 2570
Altho my bodie is but small and neate,
My stomacke after toyle requireth meate,
An easie sute, dread Princes will you wend?
_K. of S._ Art thou a Pigmey borne my prettie frend?
_Nano._ Not so great King, but nature when she framde me,
Was scant of earth, and _Nano_ therefore namde me:
And when she sawe my bodie was so small,
She gaue me wit to make it big withall.
_K._ Till time when, _Dor._ Eate then.
_K._ My friend it stands with wit, 2580
To take repast when stomacke serueth it.
_Dor._ Thy pollicie my _Nano_ shall preuaile:
Come royall father, enter we my tent:
And souldiers feast it, frolike it like friends,
My Princes bid this kinde and courteous traine,
Partake some fauours of our late accord.
Thus warres haue end, and after dreadfull hate,
Men learne at last to know their good estate. _Exeunt._