 | The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth |  |
Actus Quartus.
Schena Prima.
After a noyse of hornes and showings, enter certaine Huntsmen, if you please, singing one way: another way Ateukin and Iaques, Gnato.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.
Count.
Lord Eustace, as your youth & vertuous life,
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?
Eust.
All that is mine, graue Countesse & no lesse.
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,
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,
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,
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,
This Ladie Douglas, this Sir Egmond is.
Count.
Welcome ye Ladies, and thousand thanks for this,
Come enter you a homely widdowes house,
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.
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.
Iaq.
Mon Deiu, what malhe ure 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
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
promise thee this dubblet shall be happy.
Iaq.
Purquoy?
And.
It shall serue a iolle Gentleman,
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
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.
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 short bee torne, it is a present penthouse to
defend him from a cleane huswifes scoffe.
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, biladio
thirtie sixe is a saue deale of mony.
Tayl.
Farwell sir.
Slip.
Nay but stay Taylor.
Tayl.
Why sir?
Forget not this speciall mate,
Let my back parts bee well linde,
For there come many winter stormes from a windie bellie,
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
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?
Shoemaker.
Because if thou come of the bloud of the Slippers,
you should haue a Shoomakers Alle thrust through your
eare.
Exit.
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.
Slip.
Hold take it, I betrust thee friend, let me be welarmed.
Cutler.
You shall.
Exit Cutler.
Nowe what remaines? theres twentie Crownes for
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 mā Grimshaues
daughter, shee is faire, but indeede her tongue is like
Clocks on Shrouetuesday, alwaies out of temper? shall I wed
Sisley of the Whightē? Oh, no she is like a frog in a parcely bed,
as scittish as an ele, if I seek to hāper 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.
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 occupatiō
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
money.
Exeunt.
Enter Nano, Dorothea, in mans apparell.
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.
O wearie life, where wanted no distresse,
But euery thought is paide with heauinesse.
Na.
Too much of wearie madame, if you please,
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,
But griefes of mindes, by salues are not appeased.
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.
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,
Ile kill this cursed care, or else beshrowe me.
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
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 mor glay,
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,
This murtherers cursed deed, that doth me slay.
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 ferra vn chiualier, for this daies trauaile.
Exit.
Enter Nano, S. Cutbert Anderson, his sword drawne.
S. Cuth.
Where is this poore distressed gentleman?
Nano.
Here laid on ground, and wounded to the death.
Ah gentle heart, how are these beautious lookes,
Dimd by the tyrant cruelues 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:
And send priuie search to catch the murtherer.
Nano.
The God of heauen reward the curteous knight.
Exeunt. And they beare out Dorothea.
Enter the King of Scots, Iaques, Ateukin, Andrew, Iaques 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, ones les espanles,
I warrant she no trouble you.
Ateu.
Oh then my liege, how happie art thou growne,
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.
Andy.
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 Masters counsell, is alreadie 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:
This is exceeding loue that makes him speake.
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.
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.
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,
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.
And sirrha Andrew, scout thou here in Court:
And bring me tydings if thou canst perceiue
The least intent of muttering in my traine,
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 will haue our packet soone dispatcht
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 misled,
What should I do? but as the Prouerbe saith,
Runne with the Hare, and hunt with the Hound.
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 on other drift:
I will in secret certaine letters send
Vnto the English King, and let him know
The order of his daughters ouer throw.
That if my maister crack his credit here,
As I am sure long flattery cannot hold,
I may haue meanes within the English Court
To scape the scourge that waits on bad aduice.
Exit.
| The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth | |