Chapter I: Part 1

Transcriber's Note

Italic text is marked by _underscores_, and non-italic text within italic blocks by ~tildes~. Subscript text is indicated by @at signs@.

All inconsistent spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation has been retained as printed.

In addition to those listed in the List of Doubtful and Irregular Readings, the following apparent errors have been retained as printed:

l. 677 inscription

l. 1021 _Doug._

l. 1179 bog

l. 1275 a fraid

l. 1346 harpe

l. 1354 _Iaque_

l. 1634 _An._

l. 1671 _Tay._

l. 1822 swoord

No speaker is given for lines 2400-2405

PRINTED FOR THE MALONE SOCIETY BY FREDERICK HALL AT THE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

THE SCOTTISH HISTORY OF JAMES THE FOURTH

1598

THE MALONE SOCIETY REPRINTS

1921

This reprint of _James IV_ has been prepared by A. E. H. Swaen with the assistance of the General Editor.

_Nov. 1921._

W. W. Greg.

The following entries are found in the Register of the Stationers’ Company for 1594:

xiiij^o maij /

[Sidenote: Thomas
Creede./.]

Entred for his copie vnder thand of master Cawood warden / a booke
intituled /. The famous victories of henrye the ffyft / conteyninge
the honorable battell of Agincourt / vj^d C

[Sidenote: Thomas
Creede/]

Entred vnto him by the like warrant a booke intituled the Scottishe
story of Iames the ffourthe slayne at Fflodden intermixed with a
plesant Comedie presented by Oboron kinge of ffayres vj^d C /

[Arber’s Transcript, II. 648.]

No edition, however, is known before 1598, and it would be natural to suspect that the original impression had perished were it not for the fact that 1598 is also the date of the earliest known edition of the _Famous Victories_. In the circumstances we may suppose that publication was for some reason delayed. The impression of 1598 is a quarto printed by Creede in roman type of a size approximating to modern pica (20 ll. = 84 mm.). Of this four copies are known to survive. That in the British Museum wants the leaf A 4, which has been supplied in very inaccurate modern reprint. Fortunately the leaf is present in the Dyce copy at South Kensington, though in this H 1 is defective (a corner being supplied in not quite accurate facsimile) and sheet K is wrongly perfected. Another copy, formerly at Bridgewater House, is now in the possession of Mr. Henry E. Huntington; while a fourth is in a collected volume once in the possession of Charles II, which formed lot 8258 in the Huth Sale (25 June 1920). All four want the first leaf, which was presumably blank, except perhaps for a signature. It has not been possible to use more than the first two copies mentioned in preparing the present reprint.

The title-page bears the name of Robert Greene as author, together with a motto used by him in other works, which suggests that the manuscript may have been in some manner prepared for press before his death in 1592. Three passages from the play are quoted, rather inaccurately, in _England’s Parnassus_, 1600, above Greene’s name. The title-page also states that the play had been ‘sundrie times publikely plaide’, without, however, mentioning any company.

The plot is entirely unhistorical, and P. A. Daniel and W. Creizenach independently traced its source to the first novel of the third day of the _Ecatommiti_ of Giraldi Cintio, a story in which, however, the identity of the characters is quite different. Whether Greene was also acquainted with Cintio’s play _Arrenopia_, based on the same story, is not known.

LIST OF DOUBTFUL AND IRREGULAR READINGS.

The play, evidently printed from a much altered and probably illegible manuscript, abounds in errors of every description. The following list is confined to such readings as are to some extent doubtful in the original and to a few literal misprints which might otherwise perhaps be thought due to the reprint. No irregularities recorded by previous editors are included. No variations of any importance have been found between the two copies collated.

3 _plac’st_ 36 deele 65 because 88 Idy 109 mifled 120 _Attus_ 203 choyseff (ff _broken_, _read_ choysest) 316 drie (? _read_ dire) 323 c.w. _X. of S._ 334 Beheld _Venns_ 373 moaths 440 autthoritie 482 bettet, 493 _Steu._ 611 Os 618 _Ba._ 643 part, 646 theworld, 648 weele (_perhaps_ we ele) 655 Simi Ranus, 661 _Simeranus_, 675 _king_, 691 wrethednesse: 702 _eate._ 742 loure, 757 louer 765 _letter._ 784 hath 801 what 834 doo shifting, 880 _Ateu._ (perhaps _Ate u._) 918 denoũced, it 983 same.) 988 to ... too 996 nye. (_perhaps_ ny e.) 1019 consider 1026 tryees 1028 step (_perhaps_ ste p) 1030 becauso 1045 sings. 1048 loue 1078 ean (e _not absolutely certain, read_ can) 1094 Bur 1159 Thon 1163 _Exennt._ 1175 the 1183 thee 1190 _Slip._ (there is a faint trace of the _i_ in the Dyce copy only) 1192 _Sip._ 1205 viutnerd (_original_ viutnerd) 1213 _Guatoes_ 1268 thon (_original_ tho@n@) 1279 (fe-)re ie. (_space not certain_) 1292 the (_perhaps_ th e) 1294 your (_perhaps_ y our) 1324 bettet 1332 yout 1355 esteemd, (_original_ esteemd‘) 1367 _ic pour._ Yea 1370 mee, 1378 woman, (_comma not quite certain_) 1398 Court,, 1399 stricknesse 1405 mstaled: 1411 preuention you (_original_ preuent ion you) 1423 _Nauo._ 1424 shildish 1433 appooued 1449 displac’ff, (ff _broken, read_ displac’st,) 1451 _Auteukin_, 1464 bnt speakie 1497 are 1504 Mistresle 1511 you, drawe a 1546 _Exeuut._ 1607 Prepare (_cf. c.w._) 1621 Hart, 1626 (indentation doubtful) 1626, 1627 _Deiu_, 1637 (_speaker’s name omitted_) _ditte_ 1644 _tout, vn_ 1646 fllattering 1681 thee Shoo-maker. 1702 progenators _Cutler_. 1706 edge, 1713 a (_failed to print in the B.M. copy_) 1720 Ohn, o (_read_ Oh, no) 1763 thing: 1777 fals 1789 _strumpet, ta Matressa_ 1790 _foy_ 1791 _me_ 1796 _morglay_, 1799 soule, (_the comma failed to print in the Dyce copy_) 1801 stay. 1803 _Ie meu_ 1845 alreadle 1848 _For_ 1863 alosse, 1897 on 1908 missed, (ss _broken, read_ misled,) 1917 ouerthtow. 1924 slrange (_read_ strange) 1990 wartes: 1993 _Dambac_ 2000 slaine. (sl _not quite certain, possibly broken_ ss) 2002 but 2007 _Doro,_ 2019 effate: (ff _broken, read_ estate:) 2024 but on the (_perhaps_ buton th e) 2037 _Nana_, 2060 _fontre_ 2092 purschase 2101 place (_read_ plow) 2113 Lyon, (king 2114 slaine? (sl _not certain, perhaps broken_ ss) 2142 _Exeunt_, (original _Exeunt_, or _Fxeunt_, apparently the latter, but the letter may be a broken E) 2144 state, (_so the Dyce copy, the B.M. copy apparently has a full point, but this is probably a broken comma_) 2162 sect, 2166 countriees (_first_ e _not quite certain, possibly_ c) 2169 toexcept: 2182 greatmens 2189 guise, (_perhaps_ gu ise,) 2204 warre? 2215 summonies 2241 ofcontention: 2254 true, ._Exeun_.. (what appears like a full point after the _n_ may be the remains of a very broken _t_) 2260 sarre _Twearde._ 2283 mistresse: 2294-5 he ... she 2300 Alhough 2310 Qeene, 2331 change, 2355 these (_perhaps_ th ese) 2370 wasmisled, (sl _not quite certain, possibly broken_ ss) 2383 _K. of S._ (apparently _S:_ in the B.M. copy, but the upper dot is accidental) 2424 (indentation doubtful) 2426 for (_perhaps_ fo r) 2438 ttumpets 2443 _Cutber tohis_ 2463 Scortish 2509 missed: (ss _broken, read_ misled:) 2522 Thou (_original_ Tho@u@) 2540 our (_perhaps_ ou r) 2545 ffaies, (ff _broken, read_ staies,) 2547 reeoncile 2562 _Auteukin_, 2579 when,

In ll. 1062, 1090 the speaker’s name is given as ‘_8. Atten._’ Whatever this may be meant for it is clear that the speeches belong to the Bishop of St. Andrews. In ll. 2015-6 a complicated error has occurred, the ‘e’ of ‘her’ in the lower line having worked its way up into an accidental space after the ‘d’ of ‘and’ in the upper.

LIST OF CHARACTERS in order of appearance.

_In the Induction and Chorus_:

OBERON, king of fairies. BOHAN, a Scot.

SLIPPER } his sons. NANO }

an antic (dance), fairies, a dancer ‘boy or wench’.

_In the Dumb Shows_:

SEMIRAMIS, queen of Assiria. STABROBATES, king of India. CYRUS, king of Persia. OLIVE PAT, (?). ALEXANDER, king of Macedon. SESOSTRIS, king of Egypt.

_In the Play_:

The King of SCOTS. The King of ENGLAND. DOROTHEA, his daughter, wife of the King of Scots. The Countess of ARRAN. IDA, her daughter. ATEUKIN (or GNATO). ANDREW SNOORD, a servingman. SLIPPER, a clown. NANO, a dwarf. Sir BARTRAM, a Scottish gentleman. Sir EUSTACE (DICK), an English gentleman. (A Servant of Sir Bartram.) The Bishop of SAINT ANDREWS. Earl DOUGLAS. Lord MORTON. a Purveyor. JAQUES, a Frenchman. Lord Ross. a Huntsman. a Tailor. a Shoemaker. a Cutler. Sir CUTBERT ANDERSON. Lady ANDERSON. a Servant of the Countess of Arran. a Lawyer. a Merchant. a Divine. a Scout.

Lady Douglas, Sir Egmond, Lord Percy, Samles, an English Herald, lords, ladies, huntsmen, soldiers, antics.

In V. iii the speeches of the King of England have the prefix ‘Arius’ (ll. 2095, 2105, 2126, 2129), a name which in a stage-direction in II. ii (l. 1050) is apparently applied to the King of Scots. Ateukin (twice misprinted ‘Auteukin’, ll. 1451, 2562) is repeatedly called Gnato, which would seem to have been the original name of the character, subsequently altered, for in I. i ‘Ateukin’ several times scans as a dissyllable (ll. 355, 362, 365). Twice Ateukin and Gnato are mentioned together in a stage-direction (ll. 1550, 2053), apparently through misunderstanding of an alteration. Sir Eustace, who is also addressed as Lord Eustace, is several times called Dick (ll. 565, 568, 571, 601, 608, 629). One speech (l. 629) assigned to him, clearly belongs to a servant, who has therefore been added to the characters. In II. ii Nano is throughout called ‘Dwarfe’ except in the exit at l. 1049. Andrew’s surname appears from l. 551. The name of the King of Fairies is Oberon: ‘Oboram’ on the title and ‘Obiran’ in l. 1934. seem to be mere misprints, and ‘Obiron’ (ll. 1164, 1923, 1931) a sporadic variant. In l. 2 his name is given as ‘After Oberõ’, but this is most likely a misprint for ‘_after_ Oberõ’. Dyce supposed that Oberon entered at l. 2398, and Grosart assumed that ‘Adam’ was the name of the actor who played the part, but it is more likely to be a compositor’s misreading of ‘A danc(e)’. At l. 1953 the direction ‘Ladie Anderson ouerheares’ is due to a misunderstanding; it should be ‘Sir Cutbert’. Lady Douglas and Sir Egmond are mentioned in l. 1606 as present, but nothing further is known of them: Lord Percy and Samles enter in V. iii (l. 2094), and the former again in V. vi (l. 2407), also the English herald in V. vi (l. 2338), but none of them speak. Nano does not speak in the Induction.

In l. 656 (cf. 666) the form ‘Staurobates’, in place of Stabrobates, proves that Greene drew from Poggio’s Latin translation of Diodorus Siculus and not from the original.

The text of the play contains nothing to identify either the English or the Scottish king, and the date 1520 given in the Induction is seven years after the death of James IV at Flodden.

* * * * *

The two collotype plates represent A2 recto (title page) and A3 recto in the Dyce copy of the original.

THE

SCOTTISH

Historie of Iames the fourth, slaine at _Flodden_.

Entermixed with a pleasant Comedie, presented by _Oboram_ King of _Fayeries_:

_As it hath bene sundrie times publikely plaide._

Written by _Robert Greene_, Maister of Arts.

_Omne tulit punctum._

LONDON Printed by Thomas Creede. 1598.

THE SCOTTISH Hystorie of Iames the fourth, slaine at _Flodden_.

Musicke playing within. _I. Chor._

_Enter ~After Oberṏ~, King of Fayries, an Antique, who dance about a Tombe, plac’st conueniently on the Stage, out of the which, suddainly starts vp as they daunce, ~Bohan~ a Scot, attyred like a ridstall man, from whom the Antique flyes. ~Oberon~ Manet._

_Bohan._

Ay say, whats thou?

_Oberon._ Thy friend _Bohan_.

_Bohan._ What wot I, or reck I that, whay guid man, I reck no friend, nor ay reck no foe, als 10 ene to me, git the ganging, and trouble not may whayet, or ays gar the recon me nene of thay friend, by the mary masse sall I.

_Ober._ Why angrie Scot, I visit thee for loue: then what mooues thee to wroath?

_Bohan._ The deele awhit reck I thy loue. For I knowe too well, that true loue tooke her flight twentie winter sence to heauen, whither till ay can, weele I wot, ay sal nere finde loue: an thou lou’st me, leaue me to my selfe. But what were those Puppits that hopt and skipt about me year whayle? 20

_Oberon._ My subiects.

_Boh._ Thay subiects, whay art thou a King?

_Ober._ I am.

_Bohan._ The deele thou art, whay thou look’st not so big as the king of Clubs, nor so sharpe as the king of Spades, nor so faine as the king Adaymonds, be the masse ay take thee to bee the king of false harts: therfore I rid thee away, or ayse so curry your Kingdome, that yous be glad to runne to saue your life.

_Ober._ Why stoycall Scot, do what thou dar’st to me, heare is my brest strike. 30

_Boh._ Thou wilt not threap me, this whiniard has gard many better mẽ to lope thẽ thou: but how now? Gos sayds what wilt not out? whay thou wich, thou deele, gads sute may whiniard.

_Ober._ Why pull man: but what an twear out, how then?

_Boh._ This then, thou weart best begon first: for ayl so lop thy lyms, that thouse go with half a knaues carkasse to the deele

_Ober._ Draw it out, now strike foole, canst thou not?

_Boh._ Bread ay gad, what deele is in me, whay tell mee thou skipiack what art thou?

_Ober._ Nay first tell me what thou wast from thy birth, what 40 thou hast past hitherto, why thou dwellest in a Tombe, & leauest the world? and then I will release thee of these bonds, before not.

_Boh._ And not before, then needs must needs sal: I was borne a gentleman of the best bloud in all _Scotland_, except the king, when time brought me to age, and death tooke my parents, I became a Courtier, where though ay list not praise my selfe, ay engraued the memory of _Boughon_ on the skin-coate of some of them, and reueld with the proudest.

_Ober._ But why liuing in such reputation, didst thou leaue to 50 be a Courtier?

_Boh._ Because my pride was vanitie, my expence losse, my reward faire words and large promises, & my hopes spilt, for that after many yeares seruice, one outran me, and what the deele should I then do there. No no, flattering knaues that can cog and prate fastest, speede best in the Court.

_Ober._ To what life didst thou then betake thee?

_Boh._ I then chang’d the Court for the countrey, and the wars for a wife: but I found the craft of swaines more vile, then the knauery of courtiers: the charge of children more heauie then 60 seruants, and wiues tongues worse then the warres it selfe: and therefore I gaue ore that, & went to the Citie to dwell, & there I kept a great house with smal cheer, but all was nere the neere.

_Ober._ And why?

_Boh._ because in seeking friends, I found table guests to eate me, & my meat, my wiues gossops to bewray the secrets of my heart, kindred to betray the effect of my life, which when I noted, the court ill, the country worse, and the citie worst of all, in good time my wife died: ay wood she had died twentie winter sooner by the masse, leauing my two sonnes to the world, and 70 shutting my selfe into this Tombe, where if I dye, I am sure I am safe from wilde beasts, but whilest I liue, cannot be free frṏ ill companie. Besides, now I am sure gif all my friends faile me, I sall haue a graue of mine owne prouiding: this is all. Now what art thou?

_Ober._ _Oberon_ King of Fayries, that loues thee because thou hatest the world, and to gratulate thee, I brought those Antiques to shew thee some sport in daunsing, which thou haste loued well.

_Bohan._ Ha, ha, ha, thinkest thou those puppits can please 80 me? whay I haue two sonnes, that with one scottish gigge shall breake the necke of thy Antiques.

_Ober._ That would I faine see.

_Boha._ Why thou shalt, howe boyes.

_Enter Slipper and Nano._

Haud your clacks lads, trattle not for thy life, but gather vppe your legges and daunce me forthwith a gigge worth the sight.

_Slip._ Why I must talk on Idy fort, wherefore was my tongue made.

_Boha._ Prattle an thou darst ene word more, and ais dab this 90 whiniard in thy wembe.

_Ober._ Be quiet _Bohan_, Ile strike him dumbe, and his brother too, their talk shal not hinder our gyg, fall to it, dance I say mã.

_Boh._ Dance Humer, dance, ay rid thee.

_The two dance a gig deuised for the nonst._

Now get you to the wide world with more thẽ my father gaue me, thats learning enough, both kindes, knauerie & honestie: and that I gaue you, spend at pleasure.

_Ober._ Nay for their sport I will giue them this gift, to the Dwarfe I giue a quicke witte, prettie of body, and awarrant his 100 preferment to a Princes seruice, where by his wisdome he shall gaine more loue then cṏmon. And to loggerhead your sonne, I giue a wandering life, and promise he shall neuer lacke: and auow that if in all distresses he call vpon me to helpe him: now let them go.

_Exeunt with curtesies._

_Boh._ Now King, if thou bee a King, I will shew thee whay I hate the world by demonstration, in the year 1520. was in _Scotland_, a king ouerruled with parasites, mifled by lust, & many circumstances, too long to trattle on now, much like our 110 court of _Scotland_ this day, that story haue I set down, gang with me to the gallery, & Ile shew thee the same in Action, by guid fellowes of our country men, and then when thou seest that, iudge if any wise man would not leaue the world if he could.

_Ober._ That will I see, lead and ile follow thee. _Exeunt._

_Laus Deo detur in Eternum._ _I. i._

_Enter the King of England, the King of Scots, ~Dorithe~ his Queen, the Countesse, Lady ~Ida~, with other Lords. And ~Ateukin~ with them aloofe._

_Attus primus. Scena prima._ 120

_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 130 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 _Dorithea_ 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: 140 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. Nobles and Ladies, stoupe vnto your Queene. And Trumpets sound, that Heralds may proclaime, 150 Faire _Dorithea_ peerlesse Queene of Scots.

_All._ Long liue 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. 160 But _Dorithea_, since I must depart, And leaue thee 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. 170 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, 180 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. Long circumstance in taking princely leaues, 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: 190 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, 200 Misled by loue, hast made another choyce, Another choyce, euen when thou vowdst thy soule To _Dorithea_, Englands choyseff 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 210 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.

_Countesse._ It was of dutie Prince that I haue done: And what in fauour may content me most, 220 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) 230 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. 240

_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, 250 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. Let _Doll_ be faire, she is wonne, but I must woe, 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? 260

_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._ Amen say I, wold thou wert with him too: 270 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: 280 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 commṏ eie, 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, Vpon thy browes, the drift of thy disgrace: Thy new vowd loue in sight of God and men, 290 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. 300 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. 310

_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. 320

_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.

_K. of S._ 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, 330 I see in those imperiall lookes of yours, The whole discourse of loue, _Saturn_ combust, With direfull lookes at your natiuitie: Beheld faire _Venns_ 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, 340 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, 350 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, To ease my bashfull need that cannot beg, 360 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, 370 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, 380 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. 390

_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, To tame the wanton if she shall rebell, 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, 400 Did not your grace suppose I flatter you, Beleeue me I would boldly publish this: Was neuer eye that saw 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 _I. ii._ written in their hands._ 410

_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.

_Andr._ 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? 420

_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 vnfought, 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 honest trade when I needs must, 430 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, 440 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: 450 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. 460 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, A man must beare a little, not too much: 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 470 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? 480

_Slip._ O Lord I sir, and a great many more, Some bettet, 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, 490 Turne the spit, and licke the pan, and make the fire burne. But if in the stable.

_Ateu._ 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, 500 Hold your nose master. A wild countenance, and 4. good legs. 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. 510 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_? 520

_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, 530 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?

_Ambo._ 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, 540 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. 550 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. _I. iii._

_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, 560 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: 570 Tell me bonny _Dicke_, hast got a wife?

_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, 580 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_, 590 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: 600 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 _Arains_ daughters?

_Eust._ 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, thẽ thus my _Dicke_, All Englands grounds yeelds not a blyther Lasse. Nor _Europ_ can art her for her gifts, 610 Of vertue, honour, beautie, and the rest: But our fṏd 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, 620 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: 630 Be Gad shees blyth, faire lewely, bony, &c.

_Exeunt._

_Enter ~Bohan~ and the fairy king after the first act, to _II. Chor._ them a rownd of Fairies, 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 quiet, pleasure, profit, and content, Of wealth, of honor, and of all the world, 640 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 theworld, And all that are within the same. Gow shrowd vs in our harbor where weele see, The pride of folly, as it ought to be.

_Exeunt._ 650

_After the first act._

_Ober._ Here see I good fond actions in thy gyg, And meanes to paint the worldes in constant waies But turne thine ene, see which for I can commaund.

_Enter two battailes strongly fighting, the one ~Simi Ranus~, the other, ~Staurobates~, she flies, and her Crowne is taken, and she hurt._

_Boh._ What gars this din of mirk and balefull harme, Where euery weane is all betaint with bloud?

_Ober._ This shewes thee _Bohan_ what is worldly pompe. 660 _Simeranus_, the proud Assirrian Queene, When _Ninus_ died, did tene in her warres, Three millions of footemen to the fight, Fiue hundreth thousand horse, of armed chars, A hundreth thousand more yet in her pride Was hurt and conquered by _S. Taurobates_. Then what is pompe?

_Bohan._ I see thou art thine ene. Thou bonny King, if Princes fall from high, My fall is past, vntill I fall to die. 670 Now marke my talke, and prosecute my gyg.

2.

_Ober._ How shuld these crafts withdraw thee from the world? But looke my _Bohan_, pompe allureth.

_Enter ~Cirus~ king, humbling themselues: himselfe crowned by ~Oliue Pat~, at last dying, layde in a marbell tombe with this inscription_

Who so thou bee that passest, For I know one shall passe, knowe I I am _Cirus_ of _Persia_, 680 And I prithee leaue me not thus like a clod of clay Wherewith my body is couered.

_All exeunt._

_Enter the king in great pompe, who reads it, & issueth, crieth vermeum._

_Boha._ What meaneth this?

_Ober._ _Cirus_ of _Persia_, Mightie in life, within a marbell graue, Was layde to rot, whom _Alexander_ once Beheld in tombde, and weeping did confesse 690 Nothing in life could scape from wrethednesse: Why then boast men?

_Boh._ What recke I then of life, Who makes the graue my tomb, the earth my wife: But marke mee more.

3.

_Boh._ I can no more, my patience will not warpe. To see these flatteries how they scorne and carpe.

_Ober._ Turne but thy head.

_Enter our kings carring Crowns, Ladies presenting odors 700 to Potentates in thrond, who suddainly is slaine by his seruaunts, and thrust out, and so they eate._

_Exeunt._

Sike is the werld, but whilke is he I sawe.

_Ober._ _Sesostris_ who was conquerour of the werld, Slaine at the last, and stampt on by his slaues.

_Boh._ How blest are peur men then that know their graue, Now marke the sequell of my Gig.

_Boh._ An he weele meete ends: the mirk and sable night Doth leaue the pering morne to prie abroade, 710 Thou nill me stay, haile then thou pride of kings, I ken the world, and wot well worldly things, Marke thou my gyg, in mirkest termes that telles The loathe of sinnes, and where corruption dwells Haile me ne mere with showes of gudlie sights: My graue is mine, that rids me from dispights. Accept my gig guid King, and let me rest, The graue with guid men, is a gay built nest.

_Ober._ The rising sunne doth call me hence away, Thankes for thy gyg, I may no longer stay: 720 But if my traine, did wake thee from thy rest, So shall they sing, thy lullabie to nest.

_Actus Secundus. Schena Prima._ _II. i._

_Enter the Countesse of Arrain, with Ida her daughter in theyr porch, sitting at worke._

_A Song._

_Count._ Faire _Ida_, might you chuse the greatest good Midst all the world, in blessings that abound: Wherein my daughter shuld your liking be?

_Ida._ Not in delights, or pompe, or maiestie. 730

_Count._ And why?

_Ida._ Since these are meanes to draw the minde From perfect good, and make true iudgement blind.

_Count._ Might you haue wealth, and fortunes ritchest store?

_Ida._ Yet would I (might I chuse) be honest poore. For she that sits at fortunes feete alowe Is sure she shall not taste a further woe. But those that prancke one top of fortunes ball, Still feare a change: and fearing catch a fall.

_Count._ Tut foolish maide, each one contemneth need. 740

_Ida._ Good reasṏ why, they know not good indeed.

_Count._ Many marrie then, on whom distresse doth loure,

_Ida._ Yes they that vertue deeme an honest dowre. Madame, by right this world I may compare, Vnto my worke, wherein with heedfull care, The heauenly workeman plants with curious hand, As I with needle drawe each thing one land, Euen as hee list, some men like to the Rose, Are fashioned fresh, some in their stalkes do close, And borne do suddaine die: some are but weeds, 750 And yet from them a secret good proceeds: I with my needle if I please may blot, The fairest rose within my cambricke plot, God with a becke can change each worldly thing, The poore to earth, the begger to the king. What then hath man, wherein hee well may boast, Since by a becke he liues, a louer is lost?

_Enter Eustace with letters._

_Count._ Peace _Ida_, heere are straungers neare at hand.

_Eust._ Madame God speed. 760

_Count._ I thanke you gentle squire.

_Eust._ The countrie Countesse of _Northumberland_, Doth greete you well, and hath requested mee, To bring these letters to your Ladiship.

_He carries the letter._

_Count._ I thanke her honour, and your selfe my friend.

_Shee receiues and peruseth them._

I see she meanes you good braue Gentleman, Daughter, the Ladie _Elinor_ salutes Your selfe as well as mee, then for her sake 770 T’were good you entertaind that Courtiour well.

_Ida._ As much salute as may become my sex, And hee in vertue can vouchsafe to thinke, I yeeld him for the courteous Countesse sake. Good sir sit downe, my mother heere and I, Count time mispent, an endlesse vanitie.

_Eust._ Beyond report, the wit, the faire, the shape, What worke you heere, faire Mistresse may I see it?

_Id._ Good Sir looke on, how like you this compact?

_Eust._ Me thinks in this I see true loue in act: 780 The Woodbines with their leaues do sweetly spred, The Roses blushing prancke them in their red, No flower but boasts the beauties of the spring, This bird hath life indeed if it could sing: What meanes faire Mistres had you in this worke?

_Ida._ My needle sir.

_Eust._ In needles then there lurkes, Some hidden grace I deeme beyond my reach.

_Id._ Not grace in thẽ good sir, but those that teach.

_Eust._ Say that your needle now were _Cupids_ sting, 790 But ah her eie must bee no lesse, In which is heauen and heauenlinesse, In which the foode of God is shut, Whose powers the purest mindes do glut.

_Ida._ What if it were?

_Eust._ Then see a wondrous thing, I feare mee you would paint in _Teneus_ heart, Affection in his power and chiefest parts.

_Ida._ Good Lord sir no, for hearts but pricked soft, Are wounded sore, for so I heare it oft. 800

_Eust._ what recks the second, Where but your happy eye, May make him liue, whom _Ioue_ hath iudgd to die.

_Ida._ Should life & death within this needle lurke, Ile pricke no hearts, Ile pricke vpon my worke.

_Enter Ateuken, with Slipper the Clowne._

_Coun._ Peace _Ida_, I perceiue the fox at hand.

_Eust._ The fox? why fetch your hounds & chace him hence.

_Count._ Oh sir these great men barke at small offence.

_Ateu._ Come will it please you to enter gentle sir? 810

_Offer to exeunt._

Stay courteous Ladies, fauour me so much, As to discourse a word or two apart.

_Count._ Good sir, my daughter learnes this rule of mee, To shun resort, and straungers companie: For some are shifting mates that carrie letters, Some such as you too good, because our betters.

_Slip._ Now I pray you sir what a kin are you to a pickrell?

_Ateu._ Why knaue?

_Slip._ By my troth sir, because I neuer knew a proper scituation 820 fellow of your pitch, fitter to swallow a gudgin.

_Ateu._ What meanst thou by this?

_Slip._ Shifting fellow sir, these be thy words, shifting fellow: This Gentlewoman I feare me, knew your bringing vp.

_Ateu._ How so?

_Slip._ Why sir your father was a Miller, That could shift for a pecke of grist in a bushell, And you a faire spoken Gentleman, that can get more land by a lye, then an honest man by his readie mony.

_Ateu._ Catiue what sayest thou? 830