 | The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth |  |
Actus primus.
Scena prima.
Laus Deo detur in Eternum.
Enter the King of England, the King of Scots, Dorithe his Queen, the Countesse, Lady Ida, with other Lords. And Ateukin with them aloofe.K. of Scots.
Brother of England, since our neighboring land,
And neare alliance doth inuite our loues,
The more I think vpon our last accord,
The more I greeue your suddaine parting hence:
First lawes of friendship did confirme our peace,
Now both the seale of faith and marriage bed,
The name of father, and the style of friend,
These force in me affection full confirmd,
So that I greeue, and this my heartie griefe
The heauens record, the world may witnesse well
To loose your presence, who are now to me
A father, brother, and a vowed friend.
K. of Eng.
Link all these louely stiles good king in one,
And since thy griefe exceeds in my depart,
I leaue my Dorubea to enioy, thy whole compact
Loues, and plighted vowes.
Brother of Scotland, this is my ioy, my life,
Her fathers honour, and her Countries hope,
Her mothers comfort, and her husbands blisse:
I tell thee king, in louing of my Doll,
Thou bindst her fathers heart and all his friends
In bands of loue that death cannot dissolue.
K. of Scots.
Nor can her father loue her like to me,
My liues light, and the comfort of my soule:
Faire Dorithea, that wast Englands pride,
Welcome to Scotland, and in signe of loue,
Lo I inuest thee with the Scottish Crowne.
And Trumpets sound, that Heralds may proclaime,
Faire Dorrhea peerlesse Queene of Scots.
All.
Long hue and prosper our faire Q. of Scots.
Enstall and Crowne her.
Dor.
Thanks to the king of kings for my dignity,
Thanks to my father, that prouides so carefully,
Thanks to my Lord and husband for this honor,
And thanks to all that loue their King and me.
All.
Long liue faire Dorithea our true Queene.
K. of E.
Long shine the sun of Scotland in her pride,
Her fathers comfort, and faire Scotlands Bride.
But Dorithea, since I must depart,
And leaue theē from thy tender mothers charge,
Let me aduise my louely daughter first,
What best befits her in a forraine land,
Liue Doll, for many eyes shall looke on thee,
Haue care of honor and the present state:
For she that steps to height of Maiestie,
Is euen the marke whereat the enemy aimes.
Thy vertues shall be construed to vice,
Thine affable discourse to abiect minde.
If coy, detracting tongues will call thee proud:
Be therefore warie in this slippery state,
Honour thy husband, loue him as thy life:
Make choyce of friends, as Eagles of their yoong,
Who sooth no vice, who flatter not for gaine:
But loue such friends as do the truth maintaine.
Thinke on these lessons when thou art alone,
And thou shalt liue in health when I am gone.
Dor.
I will engraue these preceps in my heart,
And as the wind with calmnesse woes you hence,
Euen so I wish the heauens in all mishaps,
May blesse my father with continuall grace.
K. of E.
Then son farwell, the fauouring windes inuites vs to depart.
Is more officious then conuenient.
Brother of Scotland, loue me in my childe,
You greet me well, if so you will her good.
K. of Sc.
Then louely Doll, and all that fauor me,
Attend to see our English friends at sea,
Let all their charge depend vpon my purse:
They are our neighbors, by whose kind accord,
We dare attempt the proudest Potentate.
Onely faire Countesse, and your daughter stay,
With you I haue some other thing to say.
Exeunt all saue the King, the Countesse, Ida, Ateukin, in all royaltie.
K. of S.
So let them tryumph that haue cause to ioy,
But wretched King, thy nuptiall knot is death:
Thy Bride the breeder of thy Countries ill,
For thy false heart dissenting from thy hand,
Misled by loue, hast made another choyce,
Another choyce, euen when thou vowdst thy soule
To Dorithea, Englands choysest pride,
O then thy wandring eyes bewitcht thy heart,
Euen in the Chappell did thy fancie change,
When periur'd man, though faire Doll had thy hand,
The Scottish Idaes bewtie stale thy heart:
Yet feare and loue hath tyde thy readie tongue
From blabbing forth the passions of thy minde,
Lest fearefull silence haue in suttle lookes
Bewrayd the treason of my new vowd loue,
Be faire and louely Doll, but here's the prize
That lodgeth here, and entred through mine eyes,
Yet how so ere I loue, I must be wise.
Now louely Countesse, what reward or grace,
May I imploy on you for this your zeale,
And humble honors done vs in our Court,
In entertainment of the English King.
It was of dutie Prince that I haue done:
And what in fauour may content me most,
Is, that it please your grace to giue me leaue,
For to returne vnto my Countrey home.
K. of Scots.
But louely Ida is your mind the same?
Ida.
I count of Court my Lord, as wise men do,
Tis fit for those that knowes what longs thereto:
Each person to his place, the wise to Art,
The Cobler to his clout, the Swaine to Cart.
K. of Sc.
But Ida you are faire, and bewtie shines,
And seemeth best, where pomp her pride refines.
Ida.
If bewtie (as I know there's none in me)
Were sworne my loue, and I his life should be:
The farther from the Court I were remoued,
The more I thinke of heauen I were beloued.
K. of Scots.
And why?
Ida.
Because the Court is counted Venus net,
Where gifts and vowes for stales are often set,
None, be she chaste as Vesta, but shall meete
A curious toong to charme her eares with sweet.
K. of Scots.
Why Ida then I see you set at naught,
The force of loue.
Ida.
In sooth this is my thoght most gratious king,
That they that little proue
Are mickle blest, from bitter sweets of loue:
And weele I wot, I heard a shepheard sing,
That like a Bee, Loue hath a little sting:
He lurkes in flowres, he pearcheth on the trees,
He on Kings pillowes, bends his prettie knees:
The Boy is blinde, but when he will not spie,
He hath a leaden foote, and wings to flie:
Beshrow me yet, for all these strange effects,
If I would like the Lad, that so infects.
K. of Scots.
Rare wit, fair face, what hart could more desire!
But Doll is faire, and doth concerne thee neere.
And win faire Ida, theres some choyce in two.
But Ida thou art coy.
Ida.
And why dread King?
K. of Scots.
In that you will dispraise so sweet
A thing, as loue, had I my wish.
Ida.
What then?
K. of Scots.
Then would I place his arrow here,
His bewtie in that face.
Ida.
And were Apollo moued and rulde by me,
His wisedome should be yours, and mine his tree.
K. of Scots.
But here returnes our traine.
Welcome faire Doll how fares our father, is he shipt and gone.
Enters the traine backe.
Dor.
My royall father is both shipt and gone,
God and faire winds direct him to his home.
K. of Sc.
A men say I, wold thou wert with him too:
Then might I haue a fitter time to woo.
But Countesse you would be gone, therfore farwell
Yet Ida if thou wilt, stay thou behind,
To accompany my Queene.
But if thou like the pleasures of the Court,
Or if she likte me tho she left the Court,
What should I say? I know not what to say,
You may depart, and you my curteous Queene.
Leaue me a space, I haue a waightie cause to thinke vpon.
Ida, it nips me neere:
It came from thence, I feele it burning heere.
Exeunt all sauing the King and Ateukin.
K. of Scot.
Now am I free from sight of commōeie,
Where to my selfe I may disclose the griefe
That hath too great a part in mine affects.
Ateu.
And now is my time, by wiles & words to rise,
Greater then those, that thinks themselues more wise.
K. of Scots.
And first fond King, thy honor doth engraue,
Thy new vowd loue in sight of God and men,
Linke thee to Dorithea, during life.
For who more faire and vertuous then thy wife,
Deceitfull murtherer of a quiet minde,
Fond loue, vile lust, that thus misleads vs men,
To vowe our faithes, and fall to sin againe.
But Kings stoupe not to euery common thought,
Ida is faire and wise, fit for a King:
And for faire Ida will I hazard life,
Venture my Kingdome, Country, and my Crowne:
Such fire hath loue, to burne a kingdome downe.
Say Doll dislikes, that I estrange my loue,
Am I obedient to a womans looke?
Nay say her father frowne when he shall heare
That I do hold faire Idaes loue so deare:
Let father frowne and fret, and fret and die,
Nor earth, nor heauen shall part my loue and I.
Yea they shall part vs, but we first must meet,
And wo, and win, and yet the world not seet.
Yea ther's the wound, & wounded with that thoght
So let me die: for all my drift is naught.
Ateu.
Most gratious and imperiall Maiestie,
K. of S.
A little flattery more were but too much,
Villaine what art thou that thus darest interrupt a Princes secrets.
Ateu.
Dread King, thy vassall is a man of Art,
Who knowes by constellation of the stars,
By oppositions and by drie aspects,
The things are past, and those that are to come.
K. of S.
But where's thy warrant to approach my presence?
Ateu.
My zeale and ruth to see your graces wrong,
Makes me lament, I did detract so long.
K. of S.
If thou knowst thoughts, tell me what mean I now?
Ateu.
Ile calculate the cause of those your highnesse smiles,
And tell your thoughts.
But least thou spend thy time in idlenesse,
And misse the matter that my mind aimes at,
Tell me what star was opposite when that was thought?
He strikes him on the eare.
Ateu.
Tis inconuenient mightie Potentate,
Whose lookes resembles Ioue in Maiestie,
To scorne the sooth of science with contempt,
I see in those imperiall lookes of yours,
The whole discourse of loue, Saturn combust,
With direfull lookes at your natiuitie:
Beheld faire Venus in her siluer orbe,
I know by certaine exiomies I haue read,
Your graces griefs, & further can expresse her name,
That holds you thus in fancies bands.
K. of S.
Thou talkest wonders.
Ateu.
Nought but truth O King,
Tis Ida is the mistresse of your heart,
Whose youth must take impression of affects,
For tender twigs will bowe, and milder mindes
Will yeeld to fancie be they followed well.
K. of S.
What god art thou composde in humane shape,
Or bold Trophonius to decide our doubts,
How knowst thou this?
Ateu.
Euen as I know the meanes,
To worke your graces freedome and your loue:
Had I the mind as many Courtiers haue,
To creepe into your bosome for your coyne,
And beg rewards for euery cap and knee,
I then would say, if that your grace would giue
This lease, this manor, or this pattent seald,
For this or that I would effect your loue:
But Ateukin is no Parasite O Prince,
I know your grace knowes schollers are but poore,
And therefore as I blush to beg a fee,
Your mightinesse is so magnificent
You cannot chuse but cast some gift apart,
As for your loue, oh might I be imployd,
How faithfully would Ateukin compasse it:
But Princes rather trust a smoothing tongue,
Then men of Art that can accept the time.
K. of Scots.
Ateu. If so thy name, for so thou saist,
Thine Art appeares in entrance of my loue:
And since I deeme thy wisedom matcht with truth,
I will exalt thee, and thy selfe alone
Shalt be the Agent to dissolue my griefe.
Sooth is, I loue, and Ida is my loue,
But my new marriage nips me neare, Ateukin:
For Dorithea may not brooke th'abuse.
Ateu.
These lets are but as moaths against the sun,
Yet not so great, like dust before the winde:
Yet not so light. Tut pacifie your grace,
You haue the sword and scepter in your hand,
You are the King, the state depends on you:
Your will is law, say that the case were mine,
Were she my sister whom your highnesse loues,
She should consent, for that our liues, our goods,
Depend on you, and if your Queene repine,
Although my nature cannot brooke of blood,
And Schollers grieue to heare of murtherous deeds,
But if the Lambe should let the Lyons way,
By my aduise the Lambe should lose her life.
Thus am I bold to speake vnto your grace,
Who am too base to kisse your royall feete,
For I am poore, nor haue I land nor rent,
Nor countenance here in Court, but for my loue,
Your Grace shall find none such within the realme.
K. of S.
Wilt thou effect my loue, shal she be mine?
Ateu.
Ile gather Moly-rocus, and the earbes,
That heales the wounds of body and the minde,
Ile set out charmes and spels, nought else shalbe left,
Giue me but tokens of your highnesse trust.
K. of S.
Thou shalt haue gold, honor and wealth inough,
Winne my Loue, and I will make thee great.
Ateu.
These words do make me rich most noble Prince,
I am more proude of them then any wealth,
Did not your grace suppose I flatter you,
Beleeue me I would boldly publish this:
Was neuer eye that sawe a sweeter face,
Nor neuer eare that heard a deeper wit,
Oh God how I am rauisht in your woorth.
K. of S.
Ateu. Follow me, loue must haue ease.
Ateu.
Ile kisse your highnesse feet, march when you please.
Exeunt.
Enter Slipper, Nano, and Andrew, with their billes readie written in their hands.
Andrew.
Stand back sir, mine shall stand highest.
Slip.
Come vnder mine arme sir, or get a footstoole,
Or else by the light of the Moone, I must come to it.
Nano.
Agree my maisters, euery man to his height,
Though I stand lowest, I hope to get the best maister.
Anar.
Ere I will stoupe to a thistle, I will change turnes,
As good lucke comes on the right hand, as the left:
Here's for me, and me, and mine.
Andr.
But tell me fellowes till better occasion come,
Do you seeke maisters?
Ambo.
We doo.
Andr.
But what can you do worthie preferment?
Nano.
Marry I can smell a knaue from a Rat.
Slip.
And I can licke a dish before a Cat.
Andr.
And I can finde two fooles vnsought,
How like you that?
But in earnest, now tell me of what trades are you two?
Slip.
How meane you that sir, of what trade?
Marry Ile tell you, I haue many trades,
The filching trade when time serues,
The Cousening trade as I finde occasion.
And I haue more qualities, I cannot abide a ful cup vnkist,
A fat Capon vncaru'd,
A full purse vnpickt,
Nor a foole to prooue a Iustice as you do.
Andr.
Why sot why calst thou me foole?
Nano.
For examining wiser then thy selfe.
Andr.
So doth many more then I in Scotland.
Nano.
Yea those are such, as haue more autthoritie then wit,
And more wealth then honestie.
Slip.
This is my little brother with the great wit, ware him,
But what canst thou do, tel me, that art so inquisitiue of vs?
Andr.
Any thing that concernes a gentleman to do, that can I do.
Slip.
So you are of the gentle trade?
Andr.
True.
Slip.
Then gentle sir, leaue vs to our selues,
For heare comes one as if he would lack a seruant ere he went.
Ent. Ateu.
Why so Ateukin? this becomes thee best,
Wealth, honour, ease, and angelles in thy chest:
Now may I say, as many often sing,
No fishing to the sea, nor seruice to a king.
Vnto this high promotions doth belong,
Meanes to be talkt of in the thickest throng:
And first to fit the humors of my Lord,
Sweete layes and lynes of loue I must record.
And such sweete lynes and louelayes ile endite:
As men may wish for, and my leech delight,
And next a traine of gallants at my heeles,
That men may say, the world doth run on wheeles.
For men of art, that rise by indirection,
To honour and the fauour of their King,
Must vse all meanes to saue what they haue got,
And win their fauours whom he neuer knew.
If any frowne to see my fortunes such,
But in good time these billes partend, I thinke,
That some good fellowes do for seruice seeke.
Read.
If any gentleman, spirituall or temperall, will entertaine
out of his seruice, a young stripling of the age of 30. yeares, that can
sleep with the soundest, eate with the hungriest, work with the sickest,
lye with the lowdest, face with the proudest, &c. that can wait in a
Gentlemans chamber, when his maister is a myle of, keepe his stable
when tis emptie, and his purse when tis full, and hath many qualities
woorse then all these, let him write his name and goe his way,
and attendance shall be giuen.
Ateu.
By my faith a good seruant, which is he?
Slip.
Trulie sir that am I?
Ateu.
And why doest thou write such a bill,
Are all these qualities in thee?
Slip.
O Lord I sir, and a great many more,
Some better, some worse, some richer some porer,
Why sir do you looke so, do they not please you?
Ateu.
Trulie no, for they are naught and so art thou,
If thou hast no better qualities, stand by.
Slip.
O sir, I tell the worst first, but and you lack a man.
I am for you, ile tell you the best qualities I haue.
Ateu.
Be breefe then.
Slip.
If you need me in your chamber,
I can keepe the doore at a whistle, in your kitchin,
Turne the spit, and licke the pan, and make the fire burne.
But if in the stable.
Steu.
Yea there would I vse thee.
Slip.
Why there you kill me, there am I,
And turne me to a horse & a wench, and I haue no peere.
Ateu.
Art thou so good in keeping a horse,
I pray thee tell me how many good qualities hath a horse?
Slip.
Why so sir, a horse hath two properties of a man,
That is a proude heart, and a hardie stomacke,
Foure properties of a Lyon, a broad brest, a stiffe docket,
Nine properties of a Foxe, nine of a Hare, nine of an Asse,
And ten of a woman.
Ateu.
A woman, why what properties of a woman hath a Horse?
Slip.
O maister, know you not that?
Draw your tables, and write what wise I speake.
First a merry countenance.
Second, a soft pace.
Third, a broad forehead.
Fourth, broad buttockes.
Fift, hard of warde.
Sixt, easie to leape vpon.
Seuenth, good at long iourney.
Eight, mouing vnder a man.
Ninth, alway busie with the mouth.
Tenth. Euer chewing on the bridle.
Ateu.
Thou art a man for me, whats thy name?
Slip.
An auncient name sir, belonging to the
Chamber and the night gowne. Gesse you that.
Ateu.
Whats that, Slipper?
Slip.
By my faith well gest, and so tis indeed:
Youle be my maister?
Ateu.
I meane so.
Slip.
Reade this first.
Ateu.
Pleaseth it any Gentleman to entertaine
A seruant of more wit then stature,
Let them subscribe, and attendance shall be giuen.
What of this?
Slip.
He is my brother sir, and we two were borne togither,
Must serue togither, and will die togither,
Though we be both hangd.
Ateu.
Whats thy name?
Nano.
Nano.
Ateu.
The etimologie of which word, is a dwarfe:
Art not thou the old stoykes son that dwels in his Tombe?
We are.
Ateu.
Thou art welcome to me,
Wilt thou giue thy selfe wholly to be at my disposition?
Nano.
In all humilitie I submit my selfe.
Ateu.
Then will I deck thee Princely, instruct thee courtly,
And present thee to the Queene as my gift.
Art thou content?
Nano.
Yes, and thanke your honor too.
Slip.
Then welcome brother, and fellow now.
Andr.
May it please your honor to abase your eye so lowe,
As to looke either on my bill or my selfe.
Ateu.
What are you?
An.
By birth a gentleman, in profession a scholler,
And one that knew your honor in Edenborough,
Before your worthinesse cald you to this reputation.
By me Andrew Snoord.
Ateu.
Andrew I remember thee, follow me,
And we will confer further, for my waightie affaires
For the king, commands me to be briefe at this time.
Come on Nano, Slipper follow.
Exeunt.
Enter sir Bartram with Eustas and others, booted.
S. Bar.
But tell me louely Eustas as thou lou'st me,
Among the many pleasures we haue past,
Which is the rifest in thy memorie,
To draw thee ouer to thine auncient friend?
Eu.
What makes Sir Bartram thus inquisitiue?
Tell me good knight, am I welcome or no?
Sir Bar.
By sweet S. Andrew and may sale I sweare,
As welcom is my honest Dick to me,
As mornings sun, or as the watry moone,
In merkist night, when we the borders track.
I tell thee Dick, thy sight hath cleerd my thoughts,
Of many banefull troubles that there woond.
Welcome to sir Bartram as his life:
Eust.
A wife God shield sir Bartram, that were ill
To leaue my wife and wander thus astray:
But time and good aduise ere many yeares,
May chance to make my fancie bend that way,
What newes in Scotland? therefore came I hither:
To see your Country, and to chat togither.
Sir Bar.
Why man our Countries blyth, our king is well,
Our Queene so, so, the Nobles well, and worse
And weele are they that were about the king,
But better are the Country Gentlemen.
And I may tell thee Eustace, in our liues,
We old men neuer saw so wondrous change:
But leaue this trattle, and tell me what newes,
In louely England with our honest friends?
Eust.
The king, the Court, and all our noble frends
Are well, and God in mercy keepe them so.
The Northren Lords and Ladies here abouts,
That knowes I came to see your Queen and Court,
Commends them to my honest friend sir Bartram,
And many others that I haue not seene:
Among the rest, the Countesse Elinor from Carlile
Where we merry oft haue bene,
Greets well my Lord, and hath directed me,
By message this faire Ladies face to see.
Sir Bar.
I tell thee Eustace, lest mine old eyes daze,
This is our Scottish moone and euenings pride:
This is the blemish of your English Bride:
Who sailes by her, are sure of winde at will.
Her face is dangerous, her sight is ill:
And yet in sooth sweet Dicke, it may be said,
The king hath folly, their's vertue in the mayd.
Eust.
But knows my friend this portrait, be aduisd?
Sir Bar.
Is it not Ida the Countesse of Araius daughters?
So was I told by Elinor of Carlile,
But tell me louely Bartram, is the maid euil inclind,
Misled, or Concubine vnto the King or any other Lord?
Ba.
Shuld I be brief & true, thē thus my Dicke,
All Englands grounds yeelds not a blyther Lasse.
Nor Europ can art her for her gifts,
Of vertue, honour, beautie, and the rest:
But our fōd king not knowing sin in lust,
Makes loue by endlesse meanes and precious gifts,
And men that see it dare not sayt my friend,
But wee may wish that it were otherwise:
But I rid thee to view the picture still,
For by the persons sights there hangs som ill.
Ba.
Oh good sir Bartram, you suspect I loue,
Then were I mad, hee whom I neuer sawe,
But how so ere, I feare not entisings,
Desire will giue no place vnto a king:
Ile see her whom the world admires so much,
That I may say with them, there liues none such.
Bar.
Be Gad and sal, both see and talke with her,
And when th' hast done, what ere her beautie be,
Ile wartant thee her vertues may compare,
With the proudest she that waits vpon your Queen.
Eu.
My Ladie intreats your Worship in to supper.
Ba.
Guid bony Dick, my wife will tel thee more,
Was neuer no man in her booke before:
Be Gad shees blyth, faire lewely, bony, &c.
Exeunt.
Enter Bohan and the fairy king after the first act, to them a rownd of Farries, or some prittie dance.
Boh.
Be Gad gramersis little king for this,
This sport is better in my exile life,
Then euer the deceitfuil werld could yeeld.
Ober.
I tell thee Bohan, Oberon is king,
Of wealth, of honor, and of all the world,
Tide to no place, yet all are tide to one,
Liue thou in this life, exilde from world and men,
And I will shew thee wonters ere we part,
Boh.
Then marke my stay, and the strange doubts,
That follow flatterers, lust and lawlesse will,
And then say I haue reason to forsake the world,
And all that are within the same.
Gow shrowd vs in our harbor where we ele see,
The pride of folly, as it ought to be.
Exeunt.
| The Scottish Historie of Iames the fourth | |