 | The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth |  |
Actus Quintus.
Schena Prima.
Enter the Queene in a night gowne, Ladie Anderson, 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.
L. And.
I meane the woundes which do the heart subdue.
Nano.
Oh that is loue, Madame speake I not true?
Ladie Anderson ouer heares.
La. And.
Say it were true, what salue for such a sore?
Nano.
Be wise, and shut such neighbours out of dore.
How if I cannot driue him from my brest?
Nano.
Then chaine him well, and let him do his best.
S. Cuth.
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,
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,
A nine moneths wound with little worke is got.
S. Cuth.
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 she such cats when so we will.
S. Cuth.
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.
S. Cuth.
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 squise in charge,
And vse him so as if it were my selfe.
L. And.
Sir Cuthert 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 warres: if not hee'l mend I trust:
S. Cuth.
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.
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,
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, and I will fetch thee foorth
Potions of comfort to represse her paine.
Exit.
Nano.
Fie Princesse, faint on euery fond report,
How well nigh had you opened your estate:
Couer these sorrowes with the vaile of ioy,
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 buton the sunne,
The thirstie earth is broke with many a gap,
And lands are leane, where riuers do not runne,
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:
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.
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.
After a solemne seruice, enter from the widdowes house a seruice, 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.
Monsigneur, why be you so sadda, fette bon chere fontre
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
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?
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:
Ile hide my selfe, expecting for my shame.
Thus God doth worke with those, that purchase fame
By flattery, and make their Prince their game.
Exeunt.
Enter the King of England, Lord Percey, Samles, and others.
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,
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?
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:
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:
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 foules,
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,
Reuenge his daughters death, and do me right.
Exeunt.
Enter the Lawyer, the Merchant, and the Diuine.
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.
March.
What sees mas Lawyer in this state amisse?
Law.
A wrestling 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,
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?
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 to except:
Our state was first before you grew so great,
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 quome Prouisoes to beguile your lawes,
To make a gay pretext of due proceeding,
When you delay your common pleas for yeares:
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,
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,
Are by a hidden working from aboue,
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?
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,
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,
A lasse 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,
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,
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,
You are the ground worke of contention:
First heedlesse youth, by you is ouerteacht,
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,
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.
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 farre from Twearde.
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.
He loues her then I see altho inforst,
That would bestow such gifts for to regaine her:
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.
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 mistress: 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.
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:
Although not as I desir'd, I loue you well:
But modestie, that neuer blusht before,
Discouer my false heart. I say no more.
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,
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,
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,
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.
K. of S.
He would haue parly Lords, Herauld say he shall,
And get thee gone: goe leaue me to my selfe:
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?
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.
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 thē 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 was misled,
Haue laid a snare to spoyle my state and me.
Methinkes I heare my Dorotheas goast,
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.
Slip.
Nay sir if you be in your deeds of charitie, remember me
I ruled 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.
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.
Why stay you? moue me not, let search be made,
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 otherside, with all their pompe brauelie.
K. of S.
What seekes the King of England in this land?
False traiterous Scot, I come for to reuenge
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 t'abase thy prancking plaines,
So striuing fondly, maiest thou catch thy graue.
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 agēts haue cōfest 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,
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 trumpets sound a dreadfull charge
Fight for your Princesse, braue English men:
Now for your lands your children and your wiues,
My Scottish Peeres, and lastly for your King.
Alarū soūded, both the battailes offer to meet, & as the Kings are ioyning battaile, Enter sir Cutber to his 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)
How many swordes deere Princes see I drawne?
The friend against his friend, a deadly friend:
A desperate diuision in those lands,
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 aboone 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.
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.
Cuth.
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,
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,
And since I know the lyons are at strife,
About the losse and dammage of the young,
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 sought sinister loues and forraine ioyes,
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.
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 misled: tut but a little fault,
Tis kingly to amend what is amisse:
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 ost 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,
Touch thou his brest, thou doest attaint this heart,
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,
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,
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 staies,
And long time haue been bannisht from your Court,
Embrace and reconcile 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,
Exile, torment, and punish such as they,
For greater vipers neuer may be found
Within a state, then such aspiring heads,
That reck not how they clime, so that they clime.
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)
Heereafter trust me, you are deare to me:
As for Anteukin, 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,
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,
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.
FINIS.
| The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth | |