352Lor: I might perceiue his eye in her eye lost,

353His eare to drinke her sweet tongues vtterance,

354And changing passion like inconstant clouds:

355That racke vpon the carriage of the windes,

356Increase and die in his disturbed cheekes:

357Loe when shee blusht, euen then did he looke pale,

358As if her cheekes by some inchaunted power,

359Attracted had the cherie blood from his,

360Anone with reuerent feare, when she grew pale,

361His cheeke put on their scarlet ornaments,

362But no more like her oryent all red,

363Then Bricke to Corrall, or liue things to dead,

364Why did he then thus counterfeit her lookes,

365If she did blush twas tender modest shame,

366Being in the sacred present of a King.

367If he did blush, twas red immodest shame,

368To waile his eyes amisse being a king;

369If she lookt pale, twas silly womans feare,

370To beare her selfe in presence of a king:

371If he lookt pale, it was with guiltie feare,

372To dote a misse being a mighty king,

373Then Scottish warres farewell, I feare twill prooue

374A lingring English seege of peeuish loue,

375Here comes his highnes walking all alone.

377King: Shee is growne more fairer far since I came thither,

378Her voice more siluer euery word then other,

379Her wit more fluent, what a strange discourse,

380Vnfolded she of Dauid and his Scots:

381Euen thus quoth she, he spake, and then spoke broad,

382With epithites and accents of the Scot:

383But somewhat better then the Scot could speake,

384And thus quoth she, and answered then herselfe,

385For who could speake like her but she herselfe:

386Breathes from the wall, an Angels note from Heauen:

387Of sweete defiance to her barbarous foes,

388When she would talke of peace me thinkes her tong,

389Commanded war to prison: when of war,

390It wakened Caesar from his Romane graue,

391To heare warre beautified by her discourse,

392Wisedome is foolishnes, but in her tongue,

393Beauty a slander but in her faire face,

394There is no summer, but in her cheerefull lookes,

395Nor frosty winter, but in her disdayne,

396I cannot blame the Scots that did besiege her,

397For she is all the Treasure of our land:

398But call them cowards that they ran away,

399Hauing so rich and faire a cause to stay.

400Art thou thete Lodwicke, giue me incke and paper?

401Lo: I will my liege.

402K: And bid the Lords hold on their play at Chesse,

403For wee will walke and meditate alone.

404Lo: I will my soueraigne.

405Ki: This fellow is well read in poetrie,

406And hath a lustie and perswasiue spirite:

407I will acquaint him with my passion,

408Which he shall shadow with a vaile of lawne,

409Through which the Queene of beauties Queene shall see,

410Herselfe the ground of my infirmitie.

412Ki: Hast thou pen, inke and paper ready Lodowike,

413Lo: Ready my liege.

414Ki: Then in the sommer arber sit by me,

415Make it our counsel house or cabynet:

416Since greene our thoughts, greene be the conuenticle,

417Where we will ease vs by disburdning them:

418Now Lodwike inuocate some golden Muse,

419To bring thee hither an inchanted pen,

420That may for sighes, set downe true sighes indeed:

421Talking of griefe, to make thee ready grone,

422And when thou writest of teares, encouch the word,

423Before and after with such sweete laments,

424That it may rayse drops in a Torters eye,

425And make a flynt heart Sythian pytifull,

426For so much moouing hath a Poets pen:

427Then if thou be a Poet moue thou so,

428And be enriched by thy soueraigne loue:

429For if the touch of sweet concordant strlngs,

430Could force attendance in the eares of hel:

431How much more shall the straines of poets wit,

432Beguild and rauish soft and humane myndes.

433Lor: To whome my Lord shal I direct my stile.

434King: To one that shames the faire and sots the wise,

435Whose bodie is an abstract or a breefe,

436Containes ech generall vertue in the worlde,

437Better then bewtifull thou must begin,

438Deuise for faire a fairer word then faire,

439And euery ornament that thou wouldest praise,

440Fly it a pitch aboue the soare of praise,

441For flattery feare thou not to be conuicted,

442For were thy admiration ten tymes more,

443Ten tymes ten thousand more thy worth exceeds,

444Of that thou art to praise their praises worth,

445Beginne I will to contemplat the while,

446Forget not to set downe how passionat,

447How hart sicke and how full of languishment,

448Her beautie makes mee,

449Lor: Writ I to a woman?

450King: What bewtie els could triumph on me,

451Or who but women doe our loue layes greet,

452What thinekst thou I did bid thee praise a horse.

453Lor, Of what condicion or estate she is,

454Twere requisit that I should know my Lord,

455King: Of such estate, that hers is as a throane,

456And my estate the footstoole where shee treads,

457Then maist thou iudge what her condition is,

458By the proportion of her mightines,

459Write on while I peruse her in my thoughts,

460Her voice to musicke or the nightingale,

461To musicke euery sommer leaping swaine,

462Compares his sunburnt louer when shee speakes,

463And why should I speake of the nightingale,

464The nightingale singes of adulterate wrong,

465And that compared is to satyrical,

466For sinne though synne would not be so esteemd,

C But

467But rather vertue sin, synne vertue deemd,

468Her hair far softor then the silke wormes twist,

469Like to a flattering glas doth make more faire,

470The yelow Amber like a flattering glas,

471Comes in to soone: for writing of her eies,

472Ile say that like a glas they catch the sunne,

473And thence the hot reflection doth rebounde,

474Against my brest and burnes my hart within,

475Ah what a world of descant makes my soule,

476Vpon this voluntarie ground of loue,

477Come Lodwick hast thou turnd thy inke to golde,

478If not, write but in letters Capitall my mistres name,

479And it wil guild thy paper, read Lorde, reade,

480Fill thou the emptie hollowes of mine eares,

481With the sweete hearing of thy poetrie.

482Lo: I haue not to a period brought her praise.

483King: Her praise is as my loue, both infinit,

484Which apprehend such violent extremes,

485That they disdaine an ending period.

486Her bewtie hath no match but my affection,

487Hers more then most, myne most, and more then more,

488Hers more to praise then tell the sea by drops,

489Nay more then drop the massie earth by sands,

490And said, by said, print them in memorie,

491Then wherefore talkest thou of a period,

492To that which craues vnended admiration.

493Read let vs heare,

494Lo: More faire and chast then is the queen of shades:

495King: That loue hath two falts grosse and palpable,

496Comparest thou her to the pale queene of night,

497Who being set in darke seemes therefore light,

498What is she, when the sunne lifts vp his head,

499But like a fading taper dym and dead.

500My loue shall braue the ey of heauen at noon,

501And being vnmaskt outshine the golden sun,

502Lo: What is the other faulte, my soueraigne Lord,

503King. Reade ore the line againe,

504Lo: More faire and chast,

505King: I did not bid thee talke of chastitie,

506To ransack so the treason of her minde,

507For I had rather haue her chased then chast,

508Out with the moone line, I wil none of it,

509And let me haue hir likened to the sun,

510Say shee hath thrice more splendour then the sun,

511That her perfections emulats the sunne,

512That shee breeds sweets as plenteous as the sunne,

513That shee doth thaw cold winter like the sunne,

514That she doth cheere fresh sommer like the sunne,

515That shee doth dazle gazers like the sunne,

516And in this application to the sunne,

517Bid her be free and generall as the sunne,

518Who smiles vpon the basest weed that growes,

519As louinglie as on the fragrant rose,

520Lets see what followes that same moonelight line,

521Lo: More faire and chast then is the louer of shades,

522More bould in constancie.

523King: In constancie then who,

524Lo: Then Iudith was,

525King: O monstrous line, put in the next a sword

526And I shall woo her to cut of my head

527Blot, blot, good Lodwicke let vs heare the next.

528Lo: Theres all that yet is donne.

529King: I thancke thee then thou hast don litle ill,

530But what is don is passing passing ill,

531No let the Captaine talke of boystrous warr,

532The prisoner of emured darke constraint,

533The sick man best sets downe the pangs of death,

534The man that starues the sweetnes of a feast,

535The frozen soule the benefite of fire,

536And euery griefe his happie opposite,

537Loue cannot sound well but in louers toungs,

538Giue me the pen and paper I will write,

2 Enter

540But soft here comes the treasurer of my spirit,

541Lodwick thou knowst not how to drawe a battell,

542These wings, these flankars, and these squadrons,

543Argue in thee defectiue discipline,

544Thou shouldest haue placed this here, this other here,

545Co. Pardon my boldnes my thrice gracious Lords,

546Let my intrusion here be cald my duetie,

547That comes to see my soueraigne how he fares,

548Kin: Go draw the same I tell thee in what forme.

549Lor: I go.

550Con: Sorry I am to see my liege so sad,

551What may thy subiect do to driue from thee.

552Thy gloomy consort, sullome melancholie,

553King: Ah Lady I am blunt and cannot strawe,

554The flowers of solace in a ground of shame,

555Since I came hither Countes I am wronged.

556Cont: Now God forbid that anie in my howse

557Should thinck my soueraigne wrong, thrice gentle King:

558King: Acquant me with theyr cause of discontent.

559How neere then shall I be to remedie.

560Cont: As nere my Liege as all my womans power,

561Can pawne it selfe to buy thy remedy.

562King: Yf thou speakst true then haue I my redresse,

563Ingage thy power to redeeme my Ioyes,

564And I am ioyfull Countes els I die.

565Coun: I will my Liege.

566King: Sweare Counties that thou wilt.

567Coun: By heauen I will,

568King: Then take thy selfe a litel waie a side,

569And tell thy self a King doth dote on thee,

570Say that within thy power doth lie.

571To make him happy, and that thou hast sworne,

572To giue him all the Ioy within thy power,

573Do this and tell me when I shall be happie.

574Coun: All this is done my thrice dread souereigne,

575That power of loue that I haue power to giue.

576Thou hast with all deuout obedience,

577Inploy me how thou wilt in prose therof,

578King. Thou hearst me saye that I do dote on thee,

579Coun: Yfon my beauty take yt if thou canst,

580Though litle I do prise it ten tymes lesse,

581If on my vertue take it if thou canst,

582For vertues store by giuing doth augment,

583Be it on what it will that I can giue,

584And thou canst take awaie inherit it.

585King. It is thy beauie that I woulde enioy,

586Count. O were it painted I would wipe it of,

587And disposse my selfe to giue it thee,

588But souereigne it is souldered to my life,

589Take one and both for like an humble shaddow,

590Yt hauntes the sunshine of my summers life,

591 But thou maist leue it me to sport with all,.

592Count: As easie may my intellectual soule,

593Be lent awaie and yet my bodie liue,

594As lend my bodie pallace to my soule,

595A waie from her and yet retaine my soule,.

596My bodie is her bower her Court her abey,

597And shee an Angell pure deuine vnspotted,

598If I should leaue her house my Lord to thee,

599I kill my poore soule and my poore soule me,

600King. Didst thou not swere to giue me what I would,

601Count: I did my liege so what you would I could.

602King: I wish no more of thee then thou maist giue,

603Nor beg I do not but I rather buie,

604That is thy loue and for that loue of thine,

605In rich exchaunge I tender to thee myne,

606Count. But that your lippes were sacred my Lord,

607You would prophane the holie name of loue,

608That loue you offer me you cannot giue,

609For Caesar owes that tribut to his Queene,

C3 That

610That loue you beg of me I cannot giue,

611For Sara owes that duetie to her Lord,

612He that doth clip or counterfeit your stamp,

613Shall die my Lord, and will your sacred selfe,

614Comit high treason against the King of heauen,

615To stamp his Image in forbidden mettel,

616Forgetting your alleageance, and your othe,

617In violating mariage secred law,

618You breake a greater honor then your selfe,

619To be a King is of a yonger house,

620Then to be maried, your progenitour

621Sole ragning Adam on the vniuerse,

622By God was honored for a married man,

623But not by him annointed for a king,

624It is a pennalty to breake your statutes,

625Though not enacted with your highnes hand,

626How much more to infringe the holy act,

627Made by the mouth of God, seald with his hand,

628I know my souereigne in my husbands loue,

629Who now doth loyall seruice in his warrs,

630Doth but to try the wife of Salisbury,

631Whither shee will heare a wantons tale or no,

632Lest being therein giulty by my stay,

633From that not from my leige I tourne awaie: Exit.

634King: Whether is her bewtie by her words dyuine,

635Or are her words sweet chaplaines to her bewtie,

636Like as the wind doth beautifie a saile,

637And as a saile becomes the vnseene winde,

638So doe her words her bewties, bewtie wordes,

639O that I were a honie gathering bee,

640To beare the combe of vertue from his flower,

641And not a poison sucking enuious spider,

642To turne the vice I take to deadlie venom,

643Religion is austere and bewty gentle,

644To stricke a gardion for so faire a weed,

645O that shee were as is the aire to mee,

646Why so she is, for when I would embrace her,

647This do I, and catch nothing but my selfe,

648I must enioy her, for I cannot beate

649With reason and reproofe fond loue a waie.

651Here comes her father I will worke with him,

652To beare my collours in this feild of loue.

653War: How is it that my souereigne is so sad,

654May I with pardon know your highnes griefe,

655And that my old endeuor will remoue it,

656It shall not comber long your maiestie,

657King: A kind and voluntary giift thou proferest,

658That I was forwarde to haue begd of thee,

659But O thou world great nurse of flatterie,

660Whie dost thou tip mens tongues with golden words,

661And peise their deedes with weight of heauie leade,

662That faire performance cannot follow promise,

663O that a man might hold the hartes close booke,

664And choke the lauish tongue when it doth vtter

665The breath of falshood not carectred there:

666War: Far be it from the honor of my age,

667That I shouid owe bright gould and render lead,

668Age is a cyncke, not a flatterer,

669I saye againe, that I if knew your griefe,

670And that by me it may be lesned,

671My proper harme should buy your highnes good,

672These are the vulger tenders of false men,

673That neuer pay the duetie of their words,

674Kin: Thou wilt not sticke to sweare what thou hast said,

675But when thou knowest my greifes condition,

676This rash disgorged vomit of thy word,

677Thou wilt eate vp againe and leaue me helples.

678War. By heauen I will not though your maiestie,

679Did byd me run vpon your sworde and die.

680 Say that my greefe is no way medicinable,

681But by the losse and bruising of thine honour,

682War: Yf nothing but that losse may vantage you,

683I would accomplish that losse my vauntage to,

684King. Thinkst that thou canst answere thy oth againe,

685War: I cannot nor I would not if I could.

686King. But if thou dost what shal I say to thee,

687War: What may be said to anie periurd villane,

688That breake the sacred warrant of an oath,

689King. What wilt thou say to one that breaks an othe,

690War. That hee hath broke his faith with God and man,

691And from them both standes excommunicat,

692King. What office were it to suggest a man,

693To breake a lawfull and religious vowe.

694War. An office for the deuill not for man,

695Ki. That deuilles office must thou do for me,

696Or breake thy oth or cancell all the bondes,

697Of loue and duetie twixt thy self and mee,

698And therefore Warwike if thou art thy selfe,

699The Lord and master of thy word and othe,

700Go to thy daughter and in my behalfe,

701Comaund her, woo her, win her anie waies,

702To be my mistres and my secret loue,

703I will not stand to heare thee make reply,

704Thy oth breake hers or let thy souereigne dye. Exit,

705King: O doting King, or detestable office,

706Well may I tempt my self to wrong my self,

707When he hath sworne me by the name of God,

708To breake a vowe made by the name of God,

709What if I sweare by this right hand of mine,

710To cut this right hande of the better waie,

711Were to prophaine the Idoll then confound it,

712But neither will I do Ile keepe myne oath,

713And to my daughter make a recantation,

714Of all the vertue I haue preacht to her,

715Ile say she must forget her husband Salisbury,

716If she remember to embrace the king,

717Ile say an othe may easily be broken,

718But not so easily pardoned being broken:

719Ile say it is true charitie to loue,

720But not true loue to be so charitable;

721Ile say his greatnes may beare out the shame,

722But not his kingdome can buy out the sinne;

723Ile say it is my duety to perswade,

724But not her honestie to giue consent.

726See where she comes, was neuer father had,

727Against his child, an embassage so bad.

728Co: My Lord and father, I haue sought for you:

729My mother and the Peeres importune you,

730To keepe in promise of his maiestie.

731And do your best to make his highnes merrie.

732War: How shall I enter in this gracelesse arrant,

733I must not call her child, for wheres the father,

734That will in such a sute seduce his child:

735Then wife of Salisbury shall I so begin:

736No hees my friend, and where is found the friend

737That will doe friendship snch indammagement:

738Neither my daughter, nor my deare friends wife,

739I am not Warwike as thou thinkst I am,

740But an atturnie from the Court of hell:

741That thus haue housd my spirite in his forme,

742To do a message to thee from the king:

743The mighty king of England dotes on thee:

744He that hath power to take away thy life,

745Hath power to take thy honor, then consent,

746To pawne thine honor rather then thy life;

747Honor is often lost and got againe,

748But life once gon, hath no recouerie:

749The Sunne that withers heye goth nourish grasse,

750The king that would distaine thee, will aduance thee:

D The

751The Poets write that great Achilles speare,

752Could heale the wound it made: the morrall is,

753What mighty men misdoo, they can amend:

754The Lyon doth become his bloody iawes,

755And grace his forragement by being milde,

756When vassell feare lies trembling at his feete,

757The king will in his glory hide thy shame,

758And those that gaze on him to finde out thee,

759Will loose their eie-sight looking in the Sunne:

760What can one drop of poyson harme the Sea,

761Whose hugie vastures can digest the ill,

762And make it loose his operation:

763The kings great name will temper their misdeeds,

764And giue the bitter portion of reproch:

765A sugred sweet, and most delitious tast:

766Besides it is no harme to do the thing,

767Which without shame, could not be left vndone;

768Thus haue I in his maiesties behalfe,

769Apparraled sin, in vertuous sentences,

770And dwel vpon thy answere in his sute.

771Cou: Vnnaturall beseege, woe me vnhappie,

772To haue escapt the danger of my foes,

773And to be ten times worse inuierd by friends:

774Hath he no meanes to stayne my honest blood,

775But to corrupt the author of my blood,

776To be his scandalous and vile soliciter:

777No maruell though the braunches be then infected,

778When poyson hath encompassed the roote:

779No maruell though the leprous infant dye,

780When the sterne dame inuennometh the Dug:

781Why then giue sinne a pasport to offend,

782And youth the dangerous reigne of liberty:

783Blot out the strict forbidding of the law,

784And cancell euery cannon that prescribes,

785A shame for shame, or pennance for offence,

786No let me die, if his too boystrous will,

787Will haue it so, before I will consent,

788To be an actor in his gracelesse lust,

789Wa: Why now thou speakst as I would haue thee speake,

790And marke how I vnsaie my words againe,

791An honorable graue is more esteemd,

792Then the polluted closet of a king,

793The greater man, the greater is the thing,

794Be it good or bad that he shall vndertake,

795An vnreputed mote, flying in the Sunne,

796Presents a greater substaunce then it is:

797The freshest summers day doth soonest taint,

798The lothed carrion that it seemes to kisse:

799Deepe are the blowes made with a mightie Axe,

800That sinne doth ten times agreuate it selfe,

801That is committed in a holie place,

802An euill deed done by authoritie,

803Is sin and subbornation: Decke an Ape

804In tissue, and the beautie of the robe,

805Adds but the greater scorne vnto the beast:

806A spatious field of reasons could I vrge,

807Betweene his gloomie daughter and thy shame,

808That poyson shewes worst in a golden cup,

809Darke night seemes darker by the lightning flash,

810Lillies that fester, smel far worse then weeds,

811And euery glory that inclynes to sin,

812The shame is treble, by the opposite,

813So leaue I with my blessing in thy bosome,

814Which then conuert to a most heauie curse,

815When thou conuertest from honors golden name,

816To the blacke faction of bed blotting, shame.

817Coun: Ils follow thee, and when my minde turnes so,

818My body sinke, my soule in endles woo. Exeunt.