 | The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth |  |
Actus 3.
Schena Prima.
ChorusEnter 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 Gentlemā.
Bar.
A Gentleman how so?
Slip.
Why I rub horses sir.
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
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,
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
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 Gnatoes 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:
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
S. Bar.
A hundreth pounds.
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.
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.
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,
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,
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.
The more vnhappie Common-weale,
Where flatterers are chiefe in Court.
And.
What sayest thou?
Pur.
I say thou art too presumptuous,
And the officers shall schoole thee.
And.
A figge for them and thee Purueyer,
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 fereie.
And.
Oh signior Captaine, you shewe your selfe a forward
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.
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
Enter Gnato.
Ateu.
Andrew.
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 questiō.
Ateu.
Yea sir, and wil work wonders too, which you vnlesse
you finde them out, villaine search me them out and bring thē
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?
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.
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 better 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,
and commend my cleanlinesse: as for your 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.
A lasse 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,
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.
Sieut, 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,
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)
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,
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?
Ateu.
Then hoping one thy truth, I prithe see,
How kinde Ateukin is to forward mee,
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 priuie 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, monsigneur, me thrusta
my weapon into her belle, so me may be gard per le roy.
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
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, Nano, Lord Ross. Ladies attendants.
Thy credite Bartram in the Scottish Court,,
Thy reuerend yeares, the stricknesse of thy vowes,
All these are meanes sufficient to perswade,
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,
But if in due preuent ionyou 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?
Rosse.
The hand and seale confirmes the deede is his.
Doro.
What know I tho, if now he thinketh this?
Nano.
Madame Lucretius saith, 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,
Confirme your grace, since by a wondrous meanes,
The practise of your daungers came to light:
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 fight I neuer fail'd my Lord.
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'st, the Nobles loth to craue,
Then sought I to the minion of the King,
Auteukin, who allured by a bribe,
Assur'd me of the lease for which I sought:
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)
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, but 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,
But oh mine eyes were you as bent to hide,
As my poore heart is forward to forgiue.
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
Cou'd 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?
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?
No.
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.
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.
Dor.
He makes me blush and smile, tho I am sad.
Na.
The meanest coat for safetie is not bad.
What shall I iet in breeches like a squire?
A lasse 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,
If any wrong you, drawe a shining blade
Withdrawes a coward theefe 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,
As one that seekes to liue in I tish 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,
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.
| The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth | |