THE ROYAL KING, AND The Loyal Subject.  
As it hath been Acted with great Applause by the queen's Majesty's Servants.  
Aut prodesse solent, aut delectare.—  
Written by Thomas Heywood.  
LONDON, Printed by Nich. and john Okes for james Becket, and are to be fold at his shop at the inner Temple near the Gate. 1637.   

The Prologue to the Stage.  
To give content to this most curious Age,  
The gods themselves we have brought down to the Stage,  
And figured them in Planets, made even Hell  
Deliver up the Furies, by no spell,  
(Saving the muse's rapture) further, we  
Have trafficked by their help; no History  
We have left unrifled, our Pens have, been dipped  
As well in opening each hid Manuscript,  
As Tracts more vulgar, whether read, or sung  
In our domestic, or more foreign tongue:  
Of Fairy Elves, Nymphs of the Sea, and Land;  
The Lawns and Groves, no number can be scanned  
Which we have not given feet to, nay 'tis known,  
That when our Chronicles have barren grown  
Of Story, we have all Invention stretched,  
Dived low as to the Centre, and then reached  
Unto the Primum mobile above:  
(Nor scaped things intermediate) for your love,  
These have been Acted often, all have passed  
Censure; of which some live, and some are cast:  
For this in agitation, stay the end,  
Though nothing please, yet nothing can offend.   

Dramatis Personae.  

THe King of England. The Prince of England.  
The Lord martial. Captain Bonvile.  
The Earl of Chester. Corporal Cock.  
The Lord Lacy. lancepresado Match.  
The Lord Clinton. The Clown.  
The Lord Audley. A Welshman.  
The Lord Bonvile. An Host of the ordinary  
The Princess. four young Gallants at the ordinary.  
Isabella the marshal's eldest Daughter. A Servant.  
Margaret, the marshal's younger Daughter. A Bawd.  
The Lady Mary Audley. Two courtesans.  
Two Gentlemen in a Brothel-house. Attendants, &c.    

The Royal King, AND The Loyal Subject.  

Actus primus,  

Scena prima.  Enter the King of England, the Lord Lacy, Clinton, Chester, and the martial, Audley, and Bonvile. King. 
THus from the holy Wars are we returned,  
To, slumber in the Summer of soft peace,  
Since those proud enemies that late blasphemed  
And spit their furies in the face of Heaven,  
Are now laid low in dust.  Chester. 
Dread Sovereign.  
The Heavens have showed their bounty unto us,  
In guarding your most dear and sacred life  
From opposite hatred, and that imminent peril  
To which you were engaged.  Clinton. 
When in one battle you were twice unhorsed,  
Girt with the opposite ranks of Infidels,  
That had not timely rescue come from Heaven,  
Mortal assistance had been used in vain.  King. 
ay, now you load me with a surplusage,  
Of comprlesse debets this thrice valiant Lord  
My noble martial, twice that perilous day  
Did he bestride me, and beneath his Targe.  
methought that instant did I lie as safe  
As in my best and strongest Citadel;  
The whilst his bright Sword like the Bolt of jove,  
Pierced the steel-crests of barbarous Infidels,  
And flatted them with earth; although my Subject,  
Yet in this one thing thou hast proved my Lord:  
For when my life was forfeit to the Wars,  
Thou by thy valour didst redeem it freely,  
And gav'st it me, whilst thou engag'st thy life:  
For which if ever by like chance of War,  
law's forfeiture, or our prerogative,  
Thy life come in like danger, here we swear  
By our earth's honours, and our hopes divine,  
As thou for us, we'll ours engage for thine.  Mart. 
You give my Lord, to Duty Attributes  
Too high for her submiss humility:  
I am your vassal, and ten thousand lives  
Of equal rank with mine, subjects and servants,  
Be overrated if compared with yours.  King. 
When I forget thee, may my operant parts  
Each one forget their office: We create thee  
Next to ourself of power, we but except  
The name of King, all other dignities  
We will communicate to thee our friend.  Mart. 
May I no longer use these roaylties,  
Or have the power to enjoy them, then I wholly  
Devote them to your service.  Prince. 
Noble martial,  
If I survive England's Inheritance,  
Or ever live to sit on jacob's Stone,  
Thy love shall with my Crown be hereditary.  Mart. 
And gracious Prince, since Heaven hath been as liberal  
To grace me with your favour, as my birth  
Was to endow me richly; all your graces  
Shall with my great and ample revenues  
Be ever to your virtues serviceable.  King. 
We know it. and have been observers long  
Of thy choice virtues neither could we yet  
Fasten that love on thee, which came not home  
With double use and ample recompense.  Clint. 
These graces are beyond dimension,  
They have nor height, nor depth, uncircumscribed,  
And without bounds. He like abroad armed tree  
o'ershadows us, and throw his spacious bows,  
We that grow under cannot see the Sun,  
Nor taste the cheerful warmth of his bright beams.  
These branches we must lop by fire or Thunder,  
Or by his shadowy arms be still kept under.  Chest. 
I was borne Eagle-fighted, and to gaze  
In the sun's forehead; I will brook no cloud  
To stand betwixt me and his glorious fire,  
I'll have full light, or none; either soar high,  
Or else sink low; my ominous Fate is cast,  
Or to be first, or of all abjects last.  King. 
You shall renowned Martial feast for us  
The Ambassadors that come from foreign Lands,  
To gratulate our famous victories.  Mar. 
I shall my Lord, and give them entertainment  
To England's honour, and to suit the place  
Of which I bear the name.  King. 
We doubt it not:  
We understand Lords, in these tedious wars  
Some forward spirits have been at great expense  
To furnish them like noble Gentlemen;  
And many spent most part of their revenues  
In honour of their Country, some undone  
In pursuit of these wars: now if such come  
For their relief by suit petitionary,  
Let them have gracious hearing, and supply  
Or by our service, or our Treasury  Audley. 
I have one Kinsman hath spent all his land,  
And is returned a beggar, and so tattered,  
As that I can but blush to acknowledge him:  
But in the Wars he spent it, and for me,  
Wars shall relieve him. He was a noble Heir,  
But what these lost, let other Wars repair.  King. 
Lords all, once more we greet your safe return,  
With general welcome, we invite you all  
To feast with us, and joy what we have won,  
Happiest in these, our martial, and our son.  Exit. Enter the Clown and a Welshman. Clown. 
It seems thou hast not been in the Wars my Friend, but art new come up to London.  Welch. 
Heaven pless thee from all his mercies, and his graces: It was told us in Wales, that you have great pig Organ in Paul's, and pigger by a great deal than our Organ at Rixam, which made me make my travels and my journeys on the pare hoof up to London, to have resolutions and certifications in that business, that when I venture into my Countries and habitations, I may give notice to mine Uncle, Rice ap Davy, ap Morgan, ap Evan, ap jones, ap Geoffrey. I pray where about stands Paul's Church, can you tell her?  Clowne. 
Overy easily; stand with thy face that way, and follow thy nose, and thou wilt be there presently. But dost thou hear Briton, take my word, our Organ of Paul's is much bigger and better than yours of Rixam, by as much as Paul's Church is bigger and better than Saint Pancridge.  Welch. 
Awe man, you prittle and prattle nothing but leasings and untruths: now will you but ease your posteriors a little, and I will quickly show you your Organ of Paul's.  Clown. 
Very good, I like your demonstration well; but dost thou think your Organ of Rixam can compare with ours for all that?  Welch. 
Lend me but your ears and your apprehensions, and I will make you easily to acknowledge your errors.  Clown. 
But first show me your case in which you carry your two pair of Organs, sure those flops will not hold them: but in the mean time walk with me to the next red lettuce, and I will give thee two cans, and wet thine Organ-pipes well I warrant thee.  Welch. 
I will take your courtesies, and if ever I shall meet you in Glamorgan, or Rednockshire, I will make bold to requite some part of your kindnesses.  A loud winding of Horns within. Clown. 
The very noise of that Horn hath frighted my courtesy, but all's one, farewell for this time, and at our next meeting ten to one I will be as good as my word.  Welch. 
Say you so man, why then Cad keep you from all his mercies, and good fortunes, and make us all his servants.  Sound again. Enter the King, martial, &c. King. 
Come, we will to the chase, be near us martial,  
I'll try today which of our two good steeds  
Can speed it best; let the most swift take both.  Mar. 
So please your Grace, but I shall surely lose;  
Yours is the best for proof, though mine for show.  King. 
That will we try, the wager grows not deep  
equal the lay, and what we win, we'll keep,  
Mount, mount.  Exeunt. Chester. 
Greater and greater still, no plot, no trick  
To have him quite removed from the king's Grace,  
To slander him?  Clin. 
The King will lend no ear  
To any just complaint that's made of him;  
What can our scandals do then?  Chest. 
Challenge him  
Of Treason then, and that may haply call  
His Loyalty into suspect and question,  
Which in the King at least will breed a coldness,  
If not a deadness of affection.  Clint. 
Of Treason? say he crave the combat then,  
For that's the least he can; which of us two  
Shall combat him? I know his blows too well,  
Not I.  Chest. 
I should be loath.  Clin. 
How do you relish this?  
His virtue and his bounty won him grace,  
On that we'll build to ruin all his favours,  
And work him to disgrace.  Chest. 
Pray teach me how?  Clin. 
First, praise him to the King, give all his virtues  
Double their due, add unto every thing,  
ay, and Hyperbolize in all his deeds:  
Let his known virtues be the common Theme  
Of our discourse to stale him, rate his worth,  
To equalise, if not to exceed the King:  
This cannot but beget distaste at least.  Chest. 
But further.  Clin. 
Thus; then fall off from his praise,  
And question his best deeds, as it may be  
His noble bounty is but popular grace,  
And his humility but inward pride:  
His vulgar suffrage and applause abroad,  
A way to climb and seat himself aloft,  
You understand me?  Chest. 
Fully; come to horse,  horns. 
And as we ride, our further plots digest,  
To find what may disturb, what aid us best.  Exit. Enter martial, and Servant. Mar. 
Spur to the King, his steed's unshod before,  
The ways be stony, and he'll spoil his beast:  
Here take these shoes and hammer, brought of purpose  
For mine own use.  Serv. 
My Lord, have you plucked the shoes off from your own horse, to set them on another's, a thousand to one but you will spoil your own Gelding quite.  Mar. 
No matter, do as I command thee sirrah;  
Hollow him straight, I know he loves that horse,  
And would not ride him bare for any gold.  Serv. 
Your horse is as good as his I am sure, and I think you love him as well.  Mar. 
No matter, if he ask thee where thou hadst them,  
Tell him, thou brought'st them with thee for my use.  
Away, I'll gallop after, and overtake thee.  Serv. 
Put your shoes on another horses' feet, and let your own go barefoot? a jest indeed.  Mar. 
The King affects both his good horse and Game, I'll help to further both.  Enter the King, and martial: Wind horns. King. 
You have fetched me up at length, that's to your fortune,  
Or my misfortune, for I lost a shoe.  
Martial you ride well furnished to the field,  Mar. 
My Lord, so Horsemen should and I am glad  
My man was so well furnished, and the rather  
Since we are far from help; my man is cunning,  
Your Highness to his skill may trust your horse.  King. 
Thou couldst not have presented me a gift  
I could have tasted better, for that beast  
I much esteem: you were outstripped at length.  Mar. 
Till I was forced to alight, my horse with yours Kept equal speed.  Enter the Lords. King. 
Our Lords? now Gentlemen,  
How do you like the Chase?  Audl. 
'Twas excellent.  King. 
Had not my horse been by mischance unshod,  
My martial here and I had led you still.  Chest. 
You were the better horsed.  King. 
And you the worst,  
Witness the hugeness of your way behind:  
Is not my horse yet shod?  Serv. 
He is my Lord.  King. 
Then let us mount again.  Clin. 
Your horse my Lord, is not in state to ride,  
He wants two shoes before.  King. 
Whose doth, the marshal's?  Mart. 
Oft such mischance; happen.  King. 
Were you furnished  
For us, and for yourself kept no supply?  Mar. 
So I may have my Lord to furnish you,  
I care not how myself want.  King. 
Apprehension help me, for every circumstance apply  
Thou hast done me an unwonted courtesy;  
You spied my loss first.  Mar. 
I did my Lord.  King. 
And then alighted.  Mar. 
True.  King. 
Upon my life 'tis so,  
To unshoe thine own good steed, and furnish mine,  
Was't not? upon thy life resolve me true.  Mar. 
What I have done my Lord, I did to you.  King. 
You will exceed me still, and yet my courtesy  
Shall rank with thine; for this great duty shown,  
I pay thee thus, both steeds are now thine own.  Clint. 
They wager love.  Mar. 
The best thing I can do  
In me is duty; the worst, Grace in you.  King. 
Th' art ours; come mount, we will return to Court,  
To order the great Tournament prepared  
To do our son grace; in which we entreat  
martial, your aid, because your skill is great.  Exit Enter Corporal and Cock ragged. Corpor. 
We have visited all our familiars, is it not now time that we revisit our Captain?  Cock. 
With all my heart good Corporal, but it had not been amiss, if we had gone to Burchen-lane first to have suited us: and yet it is a credit for a man of the sword to go threadbare, because by his apparel he may be taken to be an old Soldier.  Corp. 
Cocke, thy father was a fresh water soldier, thou are not; Thou hast been powdered, witness thy flax & touchbox.  Enter Match. Cocke. 
But who comes yonder, my Match? I am glad I have met thee.  Match. 
I knew Cock, at one time or other thou wouldst meet with thy Match. What, shall we go to my captain's lodging?  Enter Captain extreme ragged. Corp. 
Spare that pains, yonder he appears in his colours.  Capt. 
Fortun' de la guere; I that have flourished, no colours like me, nay, no Trumpet thou in his highest key, have nothing now but rags to flourish; I that have faced the enemy, have not so much as any facing left me: were my suit but as well pointed as I have seen some, and stood I but in the midst of my followers, I might say I had nothing about me but tag and rag. I am descended nobly; for I am descended so low, that all the clothes of my back are scarce worth a Noble: I was borne to thousands, and yet a thousand to one, they will now scarce acknowledge me where I was borne.  Corp. 
Health to our worthy Captain,  Capt. 
Thanks my most worthy soldiers; and yet if I should examine your worths, what at the most could all you make?  Corp. 
I would not have your Worship to examine our outsides.  Capt. 
And for your insides I'll pass my word.  Cock. 
Cannot all your worship's credit afford you a new suit?  Cap. 
Credit me, no; my revenues were a thousand a year, part of which I lavished amongst gallants, rioted in Taverns, havocked in Ordinaries; and when my estate began to ebb, as my last refuge, I laid all my hopes upon the last wars, but failing there, (as the world imagines) I am returned as you see. The King hath promised supply and relief to all that have spent their estates in his expeditions, but many like myself have been borne to be poor, that scorn to be beggars; as many have been borne to be rich, that can never leave it; the truth is, I am myself as my proceedings will express me further.  Cor. 
Will you cashier us Captain, or shall we follow your future fortunes?  Capt. 
You shall not leave me; my purpose is to try the humours of all my friends, my Allies, my ancient associates, and see how they will respect me in my supposed poverty: though I lose their acquaintance, I will lose none of my retinue. How say you Gentlemen, will you copart with me in this my dejectedness?  Corp. 
As I am Corporal, so will I prove true Squire to thy body.  Cock. 
And as I am true Cock, so will I crow at thy service, wait on thee with a comb for thy head, with fire to thy Piece, with water to thy hands, and be cock sure in any employment whatsoever.  Match. 
And as I am true Match, I shall scorn that any of them shall o'ermatch me in duty.  Capt. 
Attend me then; if I rise, you shall ascend; if fall, I will lie flat with you. First then I will make some trial of my Friends at the Court, and in good time: here's the King.  Sound, Enter the King discoursing with Chester, and Clinton, Audley, and Bonvile. King. 
You have persuaded much, and I begin  
To censure strangely, of his emulous love.  Chest. 
Further my Lord, what can his smoothness mean,  
His courtesy, and his humility,  
But as fly baits to catch the people's hearts,  
And wean them from your love.  Clin. 
Doth he not strive  
In all things to exceed your courtesy,  
Of purpose to outshine your Royal deeds,  
And daze I your brightness, that himself may shine?  
Is he not only popular my Liege?  
Is not the people's suffrage sole to him,  
Whilst they neglect your fame, his train doth equal,  
If not exceed yours, still his Chamber thronged  
With store of suitors: where the martial lies,  
There is the Court, all eyes are bent on him,  
And on his glories; there's no Theme abroad,  
But how he saved you from the pagan's sword,  
How his sole hand sways, guides, and guards the Realm.  Chest. 
Think but my Lord on his last game at Chess,  
'Twas his past odds, but when he saw you moved,  
With what a sly neglect he lost the mate,  
Only to make you bound to'him.  Clin. 
For all the favours, graces, honours, loves  
Bestowed upon him from your bounteous hand,  
His cunning was to think to quit you all,  
And pay you with a horse-shoe.  Chest. 
In the Tournament  
Made by the Prince your son, when he was Peerless,  
And without equal, this ambitious martial  
Strives to exceed, and did; but when he saw  
Your Highness moved to see the Prince disgraced,  
He lost the Prize; but how? that all the people  
Might see it given, not forfeit, which did add  
Rather than derogate: briefly my Lord,  
His courtesy is all ambition.  King. 
And well it may be; is he not our vassal?  
Why should the martial then contend with us.  
To exceed in any virtue? we observe him.  
His popularity, how affable  
He's to the people; his Hospitality,  
Which adds unto his love; his forwardness,  
To entertain Ambassadors, and feast them,  
Which though he doit upon his proper charge,  
And for our honour, yet it may be thought  
A smoothness, and a cunning, to grow great;  
It must be so. A project we intend  
To prove him faithless, or a perfect friend.  Exit. Chest. 
It takes, these jealous thoughts we must pursue,  
And to his late doubts still add something new.  Cap. 
Your speech being ended, now comes in my cue.  
My honourable Lord.  Chest. 
What beggar's this?  Cap. 
Beggar my Lord? I never begged of you:  
But were I a beggar, I might be a courtier's fellow:  
Could I beg suits my Lord as well as you,  
I need not go thus clad; or were you free  
From begging as I am, you might rank me.  Chest. 
Comparisons? Away.  Exit. Cap. 
Folly and pride  
In Silks and Lace their imperfections show,  
But let pure virtue come in garments torn  
To beg relief she gets a courtly scorn:  
My Lord you know me?  Clin. 
I have seen that face.  Cap. 
Why 'tis the same it was, it is no changeling,  
It bears the selfsame front; 'tis not like yours,  
Paled with the least disgrace, or passed with brags,  
That smiles upon gay clothes, and frowns on rags.  
Mine's steadfast as the Sun, and free as Fate;  
Whose equal eyes look upon want and state.  Clin. 
And doth not mine so too? Pray what's your business?  Cap. 
Only that you would know me: the king's favour hath made you a Baron, and the king's wars have made me a bare one: there's less difference in the Accent of the word, than in the cost of our weeds: This is the same face you were once acquainted with though not the same habit: I could know your face, though your diseased body were wrapped in sheepskins.  Clin. 
This fellow offends me.  Cap. 
Go churl, pass free, Thou know'st my forfeit lands, though forgettest me: Nay, you would be going too, you are as afraid of a torne suit, as a younger brother of a Sergeant, a rich corn-master of a plentiful year, or a troublesome attorney to hear of suits put to compromise.  
Sir. I must challenge you, you are my kinsman;  
My grandsire was the first that raised the name  
Of Bonvile to this height, but Lord to see  
That you are grown a Lord, and know not me.  Bonv. 
Cousin, I know you, you have been an unthrift,  
And lavished what you had; had I so done,  
I might have ebbed like you, where I now flow.  Cap. 
Yet I can purchase that, which all the wealth you have will never win you.  Bon. 
And what's that I pray?  Cap. 
Wit: is the word strange to you, wit?  Bon. 
Whither wilt thou?  Cap. 
True,  
Wit will to many ere it come to you.  Bon. 
Feed you upon your purchase, I'll keep mine.  Cap. 
Have you the wit to do't?  Cap. 
I have wit to buy,  
And you to sell, which is the greater gain?  
Cousin I'll keep my wealth, keep you your brain.  Cap. 
The wealth of Midas choke thee ere thouart old,  
And even the bread thou feedest on change to gold.  
My Lord, you hear how I pray for my Kindred,  
I have a little more charity for my friend: with you  
I have some business.  Aud. 
I am in haste now.  Cap. 
I pray you stay.  Audl. 
Not now indeed.  Cap. 
Pardon, for here's no way  
Before you hear me.  Aud. 
Prithee be brief.  Cap. 
Your daughter lives I hope.  Aud. 
What's that to thee?  Cap. 
Somewhat 'twill prove, ay and concerning me;  
Before I laid my fortunes on these wars.  
And was in hope to thrive, by your consent,  
Nay, by your motion our united hearts  
Were made more firm by contract; well you know  
We were betrothed.  Aud. 
Sir, I remember't not.  Cap. 
I do, and thus proceed:  
I was in hope to have raised my fortunes high,  
And with them to have pulled her by degrees  
Unto that eminence at which I aim:  
I ventured for it, but instead of wealth  
I purchased nought but wounds. Honour I had,  
And the repute of valour; but my Lord,  
These simply of themselves are naked Titles,  
Respectless, without price, and bombast wealth,  
And to the purblind world show seeming bad,  
Behold in me their shapes, they thus go clad.  Aud. 
You said you would be brief.  Cap. 
All that I had,  
I spent upon my Soldiers, we took no spoil.  
The wars have grated on me e'en to this  
That you now see: Now my last refuge is,  
To raise myself by her.  Aud. 
And spend her means  
As thou hast done thine own vile unthrift? no,  
I know no Contract.  Cap. 
I have one to show.  Aud. 
No matter; think'st thou that I'll vent my bags  
To suit in Satin him that Jets in rags?  Exit. Cap. 
The world's all of one heart, this blaze I can,  
All love the money, none esteems the man.  
These be our friends at Court, and fine ones too,  
Are they not pray? where be our followers?  Cock. 
Here noble Captain.  Cap. 
You see how our friends grace us, what hopes we have to prefer you?  Corp. 
I see sufficient: Captain, I will discharge myself, I mean to seek elsewhere for preferment.  Cap. 
All leave me if you please; but him that stays, If e'er I mount, I'll with my fortunes raise.  Match. 
Captain, I desire your pass, I mean to march along with my Corporal.  Cap. 
Wilt thou go too?  Cock. 
I leave you? who I? for a little diversity, for a wet storm? no Sir, though your outsides fall away, I'll cleave as close to you as your linings.  Cap. 
Gramercy yet, away without reply?  Corp. 
foutre for thy base service.  Cap. 
Away, 'sfoot how am I fall'n out of my humour? and yet this strangeness of my nearest friends and alliance deserves a little cotemplating; is't possible, that even Lords, that have the best educating, whose ears are frequent to the most fluent discourse, that live in the very brain of the Land, the Court, that these should be gulled with shadows, and not be able to distinguish a man when they see him; thou knowest me, yet these do not.  Cock. 
Why may not a poor man have as good eyes as another? their ears indeed may be larger than mine, but I can see as far without spectacles as the best Lord in the land.  Cap. 
These superficial Lords that think every thing to be as it appears, they never question a man's wit, his discretion, his language, his inward virtues, but as he seems, he passes.  Cock. 
I warrant if I should look like an Ass,  
They would take me for one too.  Cap. 
The next I try is my betrothed, if she acknowledge this hand that hath received hers, this heart, this face, and knows the person from the garment, I shall say, Woman, there is more virtue in thee than Man.  Cock. 
There's no question of that; for they say, they will hold out better: But Sir, if we be no better habited, I make a question how we shall get in at the Court-gate; for I'll assure you your fashion is not in request at the Court.  Cap. 
My virtue is not to be imitated; I'll hold my purpose though I be kept back, and venture lashing in the porter's Lodge. Come, follow me, I will go see my Mistress, Though girt with all the Ladies of the court:  
Though ragged Virtue oft may be kept out,  
No grate so strongly kept above the Centre,  
But Asses with gold laden, free may enter.    

Actus Secundus,  

Scena Secunda.  Enter the Prince, the Princess, the martial, and the Lady Marry Audley. Prince. 
Lord martial, we are much in debt to you,  
For by your favour we obtained the prize  
In the last Tourney: we acknowledge it.  Mar. 
I could not love my Sovereign Gracious Prince,  
Without extent of duty to the son.  Princess. 
'Twas nobly plied on both sides, both had honour;  
Yet brother to be modest in your praise,  
You had the best.  Prince. 
You please to grace me Sister.  
Martial, I hear you are a widower late:  
How long is't since your beauteous Countess died?  Mar. 
My Lord, you make me now unsoldier-like  
For get the name of martial, to become  
A passionate husband; her remembrance draws  
Tears from mine eyes: she died some three Months since,  
Good Lady she's now gone.  Princess. 
A kind Husband  
I'll warrant him: if e'er I chance to bride,  
Heaven grant I find no worse.  Prince. 
Have you no children by her?  Mar. 
Two sweet Girls,  
Now all my hopes and solace of this earth,  
Whom next the zeal I owe unto my King,  
I prize above the world.  Prince. 
Why noble Sir,  
Are they not brought up to be trained at Court,  
To attend our Sister?  Mar. 
They are young and tender,  
And ere I teach them fashion, I would gladly  
Train them in virtue, and to arm their youth  
Against the smooth and amorous baits of Court.  Princess. 
As kind a Father as a Husband now:  
If e'er I chance to wed, such Heaven grant me.  Prince. 
Why Heaven may hear your prayer: here's one  
I warrant that dreams not on a Husband.  Princess. 
Yet ere long  
She may both dream, and speak as much as I.  
No question but she thinks as much already;  
And were here voice and her election free,  
She would not stick to say this man for me.  Prince. 
You make the Lady blush.  Princess. 
Why to change face,  
They say in modest Maids are signs of grace:  
Yet many that like her hold down the head,  
Will ne'er change colour when they're once in bed.  Prince. 
You'll put the Lady out of countenance quite.  Princess. 
Not out of heart; for all of her complexion,  
Show in their face the fire of their affection:  
And even the modest wives, this know we too,  
Oft blush to speak what is no shame to do.  Mar. 
Lady, the Princess doth but try your spirit,  
And prove your cheek, yet do not take it ill,  
he'll one day come will act the husband's part.  Enter Captain and Cock. Princess. 
Here enters one, I hope it be not he.  Cap. 
Attend me sirrah into the presence, and if any of the Guard repulse thee, regard him not.  Cocke. 
I'll march where my Captain leads, were't into the Presence of the great Termagant.  Cap. 
My duty to the Prince, Madam your favour, Lord martial, yours.  Prince. 
What will the fellow do?  Cap. 
Lady, your lip.  Princess. 
My Lord, how like you this?  
she'd blush to speak, that doth not blush to kiss.  Cocke. 
Well said Mistress.  Prince. 
A good bold fellow.  Cap. 
You are not ashamed to acknowledge me in this good company: I have brought thee all that the wars have left of me; were I better worth, 'twere all thine; thou canst have no more of the Cat but his skin, I have brought thee home the same eyes that first saw thee, the same tongue that first courted thee, the same hand that first contracted thee, and the same heart that first affected thee: More I have not, less I cannot: nay quickly sweet Wench, and let me know what to trust to.  Lady Marry. 
Were you more worth, I could not love you more,  
Or less, affect you less; you have brought me home  
All that I love, your self, and you are welcome.  
I gave no faith to Money, but a Man,  
And that I cannot lose possessing you:  
'Tis not the robe or garment I affect,  
For who would marry with a suit of clothes?  
Diamonds, though set Lead, retain their worth,  
And leaden Knives may have a golden sheath.  
My love is to the Jewel, not the Case,  
And you my jewel are.  Cap. 
Why god a-mercy Wench: come sirrah.  Exit. Cock 
Here's a short horse soon curried.  Princess. 
Is this your sweetheart? I had need wish you much joy, for I see but a little towards: Where did you take him up by the highway, or did you not fall in love with him hanging on a Gibbet?  Prince. 
What is he for heaven's sake? can no man give him his true character?  Mar. 
I can my Lord, he's of a noble House,  
A Bonvile, and great Heir; but being profuse,  
And lavish in his nonage, spent the most  
Of his known means, and hoping now at last  
To raise his fortunes by the wars now ceased,  
His hopes have failed him, yet we know him valiant  
And fortunate in service. One whose mind  
No fortune can deject, no favour raise  
Above his virtue's pitch.  Prince. 
If he be such,  
we'll move the King in his behalf, and help  
To cherish his good parts.  Enter Chester. Chest. 
My Lord the Prince,  
The King calls for you; for he dines today  
In the great Hall with great solemnity,  
And his best state: Lord martial, you this day  
Must use your place, and wait, so all the Lords.  Prince. 
Come, we'll go see the King.  Mar. 
I shall attend your Grace.  Exit. Princess. 
And in faith Lady can you be in love with this rag of honour?  Lady Ma. 
Madam, you know I am my Father's heir,  
My possibilities may raise his hopes  
To their first height: should I despise my hand  
In a torne glove, or taste a poisonous draught  
Because presented in a Cup of Gold?  
Virtue will last when wealth flies, and is gone:  
Let me drink Nectar though in earth or stone.  Princess. 
But say your Father now, as many Fathers are, prove a true worldling, and rather than bestow thee on one dejected, disinherit thee? how then?  Lady Ma. 
My Father is my Father, but my Husband,  
He is myself: my resolution is  
To profess constancy, and keep mine honour;  
And rather than to Queen it where I hate,  
Beg where I love: I wish no better fate.  Princess. 
By my faith good counsel; if I live long enough, It may be I may have the grace to follow it.  Exit. Sound: enter two banquets brought forth, at one the King and the Prince in their State, at the other the Lords: the martial with his Staff and Key, and other offices borne before him to wait on the King. King. 
This Anniversary do we yearly keep  
In memory of our late victories.  
In joy of which we make a public feast,  
And banquet all our Peers thus openly.  
Sit Lords, those only we appoint to wait,  
Attend us for this day: and now to crown  
Our Festival, we will begin this health.  
Who's that so near our elbow? Martial? you?  
Stand off we wish you, further.  Mar. 
Me my Lord?  King. 
ay you my Lord.  Mar. 
Your highness' will's a law,  
I shall obey.  King. 
You are too near us yet: what are we King,  
Or have we countermanders?  Chest. 
Note you that?  Clint. 
Now it begins.  Mar. 
I fear some Sycophants  
Have dealt ignobly with us to the King:  
No matter I am armed with innocence,  
And that dares front all danger.  King. 
Lords this Health:  The King drinks, they all stand. 
See it go round, 'twas to our victory.  Mar. 
With pardon, can your Highness that remember, And so forget me?  King. 
Thou dost prompt me well,  
You are our martial.  Mar. 
I have used that place.  King. 
Your Staff? support it, and resolve me thus:  
Which of yond Lords there seated at the board,  
Hast thou been most in opposition with?  
Or whom dost thou least favour?  Mar. 
I love all:  
But should you ask me who hath wronged me most,  
Then should I point out Chester.  King. 
Chester then,  
Bear him that Staff, give't up into his hand,  
Say, I commend me to him by the name  
Of our High martial; take your place below,  
And let him wait on us: what do you pause?  
Or shall we twice command?  Mar. 
I'll do't my Lord:  
Chester, the King commends his love to you,  
And by my mouth he styles you by the name  
Of his High martial, which this Staff of Office  
Makes good to you; my place I thus resign,  
And give't up freely as it first was mine.  
You must attend the King, it is a place  
Of honour Chester, and of great command,  
Use it with no less modesty than he  
That late enjoyed it, and resigns it thee.  Chest. 
I need not your instruction; the king's bounty  
Bestows it freely, and I take my place.  Mar. 
And I mine here, th'allegiance that I owe him  
Bids me accept it, were it yet more low.  King. 
Attend us Chester, wait upon our Cup,  
It is an honour due to you this day.  Chest. 
I shall my Lord.  Clin. 
Oh my Lord you are welcome, we have not had your company amongst us long.  Mar. 
You ever had my heart, though the king's service  
Commanded still my person: I am eased  
Of a great burden so the King rest pleased.  Aud. 
I have not seen a man hath borne his disgrace with more patience; especially to be forced with his own hand to deliver up his honours to his enemy.  Bonv. 
It would have troubled me, I should not brook it.  King. 
Command you fellow give his golden Key  
To the Lord Clinton; henceforth we debar him  
Access unto our Chamber, see it done.  Chest. 
The King commands you to give up your Key  
Unto that Lord that nears you: henceforth Sir,  
You to his person are denied access,  
But when the King commands.  Mar. 
Say to my Liege,  
The proudest foe he hath, were he an Emperor,  
Should not have forced the least of these from me:  
But I acknowledge these, and all I have,  
To be sole his; my life too, which as willingly  
To please him I will send: I thank his Highness  
That sees so into my debility,  
That he hath care to ease me of these loads  
That have oppressed me long; so Sir 'tis done:  
Come Lords, now let's be merry, and drink round,  
After great tempests we a calm have found.  Aud. 
This Lord is of an unwonted constancy, He entertains his disgraces as merrily as a man dies that is tickled to death.  King. 
Cannot all this stir his impatience up?  
I'll search his breast but I will find his gall:  
Command him give his Staff of Council up,  
We will bestow it elsewhere where we please.  Chest. 
The King would have you to forbear the Council, And to give up your Staff.  Mar. 
I shall turn man,  
Kings cannot force to bear more than we can.  Chest. 
Sir, are you moved?  Mar. 
Those that are wronged may speak:  
My Lord, I let you know my innocence,  
And that my true and unstained Loyalty  
Deserves not this disgrace: none ever bore  
Like eminence with me that hath discharged it  
With better zeal and conscience: for my service  
Let my wounds witness, I have some to show;  
That had I not my body interposed,  
Had been your scars: all my deserved honours  
You have bestowed upon my enemies,  
ay such as have whole skins,—  
And never bled but for their ease and health.  
You might with as much justice take my life  
As seize my honours: howsoe'er my Lord  
Give me free leave to speak but as I find,  
I ever have been true, you now unkind.  King. 
Will you contest?  
What have you Sir that is not held from us?  
Or what can your own virtue purchase you  
Without our grace? Are not your fortunes, favours,  
And your revenues ours? where should they end  
But where they first began? have we not power  
To give our own? or must we ask your counsel,  
To grace where you appoint? need we a Guardian,  
Or aim you at the place?  Mar. 
Oh my dread King,  
It sorrows me that you misprise my love,  
And with more freedom I could part with life  
Than with your Grace: my offices alas,  
They were my troubles, but to want your favours,  
That only thus afflicts my loyal thoughts,  
And makes me bold to term your Grace unkind.  King. 
Sir, we command you to abandon Court,  
And take it as a favour that we now  
Not question of your life; without reply  
Leave us.  Mar. 
I'll leave the Court as I would leave my burden,  
But from your Highness in this kind to part,  
Is as my body should foretake my heart.  Exit. King. 
Shall we not be ourself, or shall we brook  
Competitors in reign? act what we do  
By other men's appointment? he being gone,  
We are unrivalled; we'll be sole, or none.  Prince. 
The martial's gone in discontent my Liege.  King. 
Pleased, or not pleased, if we be England's King,  
And mightiest in the Sphere in which we move,  
we'll shine alone, this Phaeton cast down,  
we'll state us now midst of our best affected:  
Our new created martial first lead on,  
Whose Loyalty we now must build upon.  Exit. Enter Captain and Clown. Cap. 
Sir, now attend me, I'll to the Ordinary,  
And see if any of my ancient friends will take note of me.  
Where's the good man? within?  Clown. 
There's none dwells here; you may speak with the Master of the house if you will.  Enter the Host. Crown. 
Captain, Captain, I have descried an Host.  Cap. 
An Host? where? which way march they?  Clown. 
Mine Host of the house, see where he marches.  Cap. 
Here take my cloak, what is't not Dinner-time? Are there no gallants come yet?  Host. 
Why Sir, do you mean to dine here today?  Cap. 
Here do I mean to crunch, to munch, to eat, To feed, and be fat my fine Cullapolis.  Host. 
You must pardon me Sir, my house entertains none but Gentlemen; if you will stand at gate, when Dinner's done, I'll help you to some fragments.  Cap. 
Sirrah, if your house be free for Gentlemen, it is fit for me; thou seest I keep my man, I've Crowns to spend with him that's bravest here: I'll keep my room in spite of Silks and Satins.  Host. 
I would I were well rid of this rugamuffin.  Enter two Gentlemen. 1. Gent. 
How goes the day?  2. Gent. 
It cannot yet be old, because I see no more gallants come.  1. Gent. 
Mine Host, what's here?  Host. 
A tatterdemalion, that stays to sit at the Ordinary today.  2. Gent. 
Dost know him?  Host. 
I did when he was flush, and had the Crowns; but since he grew poor, he is worn quite out of my remembrance. He is a decayed Captain, and his name is Bonvile.  1. Gent. 
I would he would leave this place, and rank himself with his companions.  Enter two more. 2. Gent. 
Morrow Gentlemen.  3. Gent. 
The morning's past, 'tis midday at the least.  4. Gent. 
What is the room so empty?  Host. 
And please your Worships.  
Here's more by one than it can well receive.  3. Gent. 
What Tatter's that that walks there?  4. Gent. 
If he will not leave the room, kick him down stairs.  Cap. 
There's ne'er a silken outside in this company  
That dares present a foot to do that office:  
I'll toss that heel a yard above his head  
That offers but a spurn.  1. Gent. 
Can we not be private?  Cap. 
I am a man like you perhaps well bred,  
Nor want I coin, for hark, my pocket's chink:  
I keep my man to attend me more perhaps,  
Than some can do that go in costlier Silk  
Are you so fearful of a ragged suit?  
They were first paid for ere they were put on;  
A man may question whether yours were so.  
Who kicks first, ha, come; have you mind to game?  
I'll cast, or set at thus much; will you card  
A rest for this? no? then let's to dinner:  
Come serve in meat.  1. Gent. 
Mine Host, prithee put this fellow out of the room, And let him not drop his shoe-clouts here.  2. Gent. 
'sfoot dost thou mean we shall go lousy out of the house?  3. Gent. 
If he will not go out by fair means, Send for a Constable.  4. Gent. 
And send him to Bridewell Ordinary; whipping cheer is best for him.  Host. 
Nay pray sir leave my house, you see the Gentlemen will not endure your company.  Cap. 
Mine Host, thou knewst me in my flourishing prime:  
I was the first brought custom to thine house,  
Most of my means I spent here to enrich thee;  
And to set thee up, I've cast down myself.  Host. 
I remember sir some such matter, but you see the times change. Nay, will you leave the Gentlemen?  Cap. 
The Lease of this house hadst thou not from me?  
Did I not give thee both the fine and Rent?  Host. 
I must needs say you were bountiful when you had it, but in troth sir, if you will not be gone, I shall be forced to turn you out by the head and shoulders.  Cap. 
And is not all this worth the trusting for an Ordinary?  Host. 
Nay if you prate, I shall use you somewhat extraordinary.  Gent. 
Down with the Rogue.  Cap. 
Since you hate calms, and will move stormy weather,  
Now Host and guest shall all down stairs together.  Clown. 
Ah well done Master, tickle them noble Captain.  Cap. 
Come Cock I have took some of their stomachs away from them before Dinner.  Enter the martial with his two men, and his two Daughters. Mar. 
We are at peace now, and in threatened death  
We do enjoy new life: my only comforts,  
The image of my late deceased wife,  
Now have I time to surfeit on your sight,  
Which Court-employments have debarred me long.  
Oh Fortune, thou didst threaten misery,  
And thou hast paid me comfort; need we ought  
That we should seek the suffrage of the Court?  
Are we not rich? are we not well revenued?  
Are not the Country-pleasures far more sweet  
Than the Court-cares? Instead of balling suiters  
Our ears receive the music of the Hound;  
For mounting pride and lofty ambition,  
We in the Air behold the falcon's Tower,  
And in that Moral mock those that aspire.  
Oh my good King, instead of threat and wrong,  
Thou hast brought me rest which I have wished so long.  Isabella. 
Sir we have long been Orphans in the Country,  
Whilst you still followed your affairs at Court;  
We heard we had a Father by our Guardian,  
But scarce till now could we enjoy your sight.  Katherine. 
Nor let it seem offensive to your love,  
That we in your retirement should take pride,  
The King in this pursues our greater happiness,  
And quickens most where he would most destroy.  Mar. 
You are mine own sweet girls & in your virtues  
I place my sole bliss; you are all my honours,  
My favours, state, and offices at Court:  
What are you not? Let the King take my lands,  
And my possession, and but leave me you,  
He leaves me rich; more would I not desire,  
And less he cannot grant.  Enter a servant. Serv. 
One from the King  
Attends your honour, and his urgency  
Craves quick dispatch.  Mar. 
Ladies withdraw a little,  
I long to know what mischief's now afoot;  
we'll front it be it death, ay and march towards it.  
A Chair, admit the Herald, let him in;  
We are armed 'gainst what can come, our breast is true,  
And that's one Maxim, what is forced is wrong,  
We can both keep our heart and guide our tongue.  Enter the servant ushering in Chester. Chest. 
Sir, the King greets you, and commands you effect  
His will in this you know the Character.  Mar. 
My good Lord martial you are welcome hither,  
These Lines I kiss because they came from him.  Chest. 
You'll like the letter better than the style:  
Ha, change your face? is your blood moved to the tide,  
Or ebbs it to your heart?  Mar. 
Thou hast two Daughters,  He reads. 
Fair by report her whom thou lov'st best  
Send to the Court it is thy king's behest,  
Do this on thy allegiance,  Chest: 
Sir your Answer?  Mar. 
I pray Sir deal with men in misery  
Like one that may himself be miserable:  
Insult not too much upon men distressed,  
Play not too much upon my wretchedness;  
The noble minds still will not when they can.  Chest. 
I cannot stay for answer pray be brief.  Mar. 
You are more welcome than your message Sir,  
And yet that's welcome coming from my King;  
Pray Sir forbear me, 'tis the king's command,  
And you shall know mine answer instantly  
Receive him nobly.  Chest. 
I shall wait your pleasure.  Mar. 
Malice, revenge, displeasure envy, hate,  
I had thought that you had only dwelled at Court,  
And that the Country had been clear and free:  
But from king's wraths no place I find is safe  
My fairest daughter? had the King commanded  
One of my hands, I had sent it willingly;  
But her! yet Kings must not be dallied with,  
Somewhat I must resolve to breed of force  
Treason or to my blood, or to my King,  
False Father or false or Subject I must prove,  
Be true to him I serve other I love,  
Somewhat I must: my Daughters, call them in:  Enter one ushering the Ladies. 
Leave them and us.  
Ladies I must be blunt, the King's displeased  
And hearing of two children whom I love,  
My patience and my loyalty to try,  
Commands that she whom I love best must die.  Isab 
Die? 'las chat's nothing; must nor all men so?  
And doth not Heaven crown martyred innocence?  
I was afraid my Lord the King had seen  
To have strumpeted the fairest for of your blood:  
An innocent death my Lord is crown of rest,  
Then let me die as her whom you love best.  Kath. 
If but to die, prove that you love me then;  
Death were most welcome to confirm your love.  
Alas my Sister she: hath not the heart  
To look upon a rough Tormenter's face:  
I am bold and constant, and my courage great;  
As token of your love then point out me.  Mar. 
Alas my girl for greater ills prepare,  
Death would end yours and somewhat ease my sorrows:  
What I must speak, contains heaven's greatest curse,  
Search all the world, you can find nought so ill.  Isab. 
Speak't at once.  Mar. 
Her whom I best affect.  
The King intends to strumpet.  Kath. 
Bless me Heaven!  Mar. 
Should he,  Kath. 
By all my joys I'll sooner die  
Than suffer it.  Isab. 
And so by Heaven will I.  Mar. 
Now you are mine indeed, who would forgo  
One of these gems so fine, and valued so?  
But passion give me leave, the King commands,  
I must obey. The fairest he sent for;  
None of my daughters have been seen at Court,  
Nor hath the ambitious Chester viewed them yet:  
My eldest then shall go, come hither girl;  
I send thee, (Heaven knows) whether to thy death  
Or to thine honour; though he envy me,  
Yet in himself the King is honourable,  
And will not stretch his malice to my child.  
The worst I fear, and yet the best I hope.  
I charge thee then even by a father's name,  
If the King deign to take thee to his bed  
By name of Queen, if thou perceivest thyself  
To be with child, conceal it even from him;  
Next, when thou find'st him affable and free,  
Find out some talk about thy Sister here,  
As thus; thy Father sent thee but in jest,  
Thy Sister's fairest, and I love her best.  Isab. 
It may incense the King.  Mar. 
What I intend  
Is to myself, inquire no further of it.  Isab. 
I shall perform your will, and thus resolved  
To be a Martyr e'er a Concubine.  
But if the King afford me further favour,  
In my close bosom your last words I'll place.  Mar. 
Sister and Sister part, be you not seen,  
Bid her farewell, a Martyr or a Queen.  
They cannot speak for tears, alas for woe,  
That force should part Sister and Sister thus,  
And that the Child and Father of one heart,  
Commands and powerful threats should thus divide.  
But Chester stays, within there?  Enter servant. Serv. 
My Lord?  Mar. 
Have you received Earl Chester honourably?  Serv. 
The noblest welcome that the house could yield  
He hath had my Lord, nothing was held too dear:  
He much extols your bounty.  Mar. 
Usher him in, we are now ready for him.  Serv. 
I shall my Lord.  Enter Chester, Chest. 
Sir, I have stayed your leisure, now your Answer?  Mar. 
That I obey, the fairest of my girls  
I send the King.  Chest. 
I easily can believe  
That this the fairest is, her like in Court  
Lives not; she is a Present for a King.  Mar. 
Say to the King I give her but conditionally,  
That if he like not this fairest of the two,  
Unstained he will his gift send back again.  Chest. 
I shall, come Lady.  Mar. 
My Lord, I do not load you with commends  
And duties which I could do to the King:  
I know your love your memory may fail you,  
And you them all may scatter by the way.  
Do thou a Father's duty thus in tears,  
And send me how thou speedest to free these fears.  Exeunt.   

Actus tertius.  Enter Clown and the Lady Marry. Mary. 
Came you from him?  Clown. 
Yes if it please your Maidenship; my Master sends you word he is the old man, and his suit is the old suit still, and his clothes the old clothes: He scorns to be a changeling, or a shifter; he fears nothing but this, that he shall fall into the Lord your father's hands for want of reparations.  Mary. 
We know thy meaning, here bear him this gold,  
And bid him suit him like the man he was,  
Bid him to face the proudest he in Court;  
He shall not want whilst we have.  Clown. 
That was out of my Commission Lady, Gold tempts, I have commandment not to touch it; 'tis another thing he aims at: it is a thing, but I know not what manner of thing; but something it is, and he vows not to shift a shirt till he be further resolved: he only sends you Commendations, and withal to know if you would stand to your word.  Mary. 
He wrongs me to cast doubts:  
Tell him I am the same I ever was,  
And ever will continue as I am.  
But that he should disdain this courtesy  
Being in want, and coming too from me,  
Doth somewhat trouble me.  Clown. 
We want Madam? you are deceived, we have store, of rags; plenty, of tatters; abundance, of jags; huge rents, witness our breeches; ground enough to command, for we can walk where we will, none will bid us to Dinner; houses rent-free, and goodly ones to choose where we will; the Marshalsea, the Counter, Newgate, Bridewell; and would a man desire to dwell in stronger buildings? and can you say that we are in want? No Lady, my Captain wants nothing but your love, and that he entreats you to send by me the bearer.  Mary. 
I do, with all the best affection  
A Virgin can bestow upon her friend.  Clown. 
I dare swear he is an honest man, but I dare not say he is a true man.  Mary. 
How, not a true man?  Clown. 
No; for he hath sworn to steal you away, and thus I prove it: if he steal you away, I am sure you will not go naked; he cannot steal you, but he must steal the clothes you have on; and he that steals apparel, what is he but a Thief? and he that is a Thief cannot be a true man Ergo.  Mary. 
That is not theft when men but steal their own,  
And I am his, witness this Diamond,  
Which bear him, and thus say, that no disaster  
Shall ever part me from his company.  Clown. 
I shall bear this with as good will as you would bear him, utcunque volumus.  Mary. 
What are we but our words? when they are past,  
Faith should succeed, and that should ever last.  
My Father?  Enter Audley. Aud. 
Wots thou who's returned,  
The unthrift Bonvile, ragged as a scarecrow,  
The Wars have gnawed his garments to the skin:  
I met him, and he told me of a Contract.  Mary. 
Sir, such a thing there was.  Aud. 
Upon condition if he came rich.  Mary. 
I heard no such exception.  Aud. 
Thou dost not mean to marry with a beggar?  Mary. 
Unless he be a Gentleman, and Bonvile  
Is by his birth no less.  Aud. 
Such only gentile are, that can maintain Gentily.  Mary. 
Why, should your state fail you,  
Can it from you your honours take away?  
Whilst your Allegiance holds, what need you more,  
You ever shall be noble although poor.  Aud. 
They are noble that have nobles; gentle they  
That appear such.  Mary. 
Indeed so worldlings say:  
But virtuous men prove they are only dear  
That all their riches can about them bear.  Sound: Enter the King, Clinton, Bonvile, Prince, Princess. King. 
Is not Earl Chester  
Returned yet with an answer from the martial?  Prince. 
Not yet my Lord.  King. 
For such contention we now scorn revenge,  
we'll try the utmost of his patience now:  
He would exceed our love, if it appear,  
He will hold nothing for his King too dear.  Aud. 
Earl Chester is returned.  Enter Chester and Isabella. King. 
Hast brought her Chester?  Chest. 
Her whom her father the most fair esteems,  
He hath sent by me, only with this request,  
That if his free gift do not like your Highness,  
You'll send her back untouched to his embrace.  King. 
I fear we shall not, she appears too fair,  
So straight to part with: what is he would  
Attempt such virgin-modesty to stain  
By hopes of honour, flatteries, or constraint?  
How do you like her? your opinions Lords?  Prince. 
A beauteous Lady, one that hath no peer  
In the whole Court.  King. 
Therefore I hold her precious.  Princess. 
A fairer face in Court whoever saw?  
Her beauty, would become the name of Queen.  Clin. 
One of more state or shape where shall we find?  Aud. 
Her modesty doth do her beauty grace,  
Both in her cheek have chused a sovereign seat.  King. 
You have passed censure Lady, now you're mine,  
And by your Father's free gift you are so,  
To make, or mar; to keep or bestow.  Isab. 
It glads me I am present to a King,  
Whom I have always heard my father term  
Royal in all things; virtuous, modest, chaste;  
And to have one free attribute beside,  
Which even the greatest Emperor need not scorn,  
Honest; to you if you be such my Liege,  
A virgin's love I prostrate, and a heart  
That wishes you all goodness with the duty  
Of a true subject, and a noble father;  
Then mighty Prince report your subject noble,  
Since all those virtues you receive in me.  King. 
Thou hast o'ercome us all; that thou hast termed us,  
we'll strive to be, and to make good those attributes  
Thou hast bestowed upon us, rise our Queen,  
Thy virtue hath took off the threatning edge  
Of our intended hate: though thou art ours  
Both by free gift and duty, which we challenge  
As from a subject; though our power could stretch  
To thy dishonour, we proclaim thee freed,  
And in this grace thy father we exceed.  Prince. 
The King in this shows honour. PRINCE's still  
Should be the Lords of their own appetites,  
And cherish virtue.  King. 
Have I your applause?  Bon. 
Your Highness shows both Royalty and judgement  
In your fair choice.  King. 
Are your opinions so?  Aud. 
Far be it mighty King we should distaste  
Where you so well affect.  Princess. 
For grace and feature  
England affords not a more complete Virgin.  Clin. 
Were she not the marshal's daughter,  
I'd term her worthy for my sovereign's Bride.  Chest. 
ay that's the grief.  King. 
This kiss then be the Seal,  
Thou art our Queen, and now art only mine.  Isab. 
May I become your vassal and your Handmaid,  
Titles but equal to my humble birth:  
But since your Grace a higher title deigns,  
Envy must needs obey where power compels.  
Give expeditious order for the Rites  
Of these our present Nuptials which shall be  
Done with all State and due solemnity;  
And martial in this business thou shall find  
thyself defective, and not us unkind.  Enter servant. Serv. 
Health to your Highness.  King. Whence? Ser. 
From my sad Master,  
Your martial once, now your dejected vassal,  
And thus he bid me say: If the King deign  
To grace my daughter with the style of Queen,  
To give you then this Casket which contains  
A double dower; half of this mighty sum  
He out of his revenues had afforded,  
Had she been match but to a baron's bed;  
But since your Highness deigns her for your Bride,  
And his Alliance scorns not to disdain,  
He saith a double dower is due to you.  King. 
He strives to exceed us still; this emulation  
Begets our hate, and questions him of life.  
This Dower we take, his Daughter entertain,  
But him we never shall receive to grace.  
Bear not from us so much as love or thanks:  
We only strive in all our actions  
To be held peerless for our courtesy  
And Royal bounty, which appears the worse,  
Since he a Subject would precede his Prince:  
And did we not his Daughter dearly love,  
we'd send her back with scorn, and base neglect  
But her we love, though him in heart despise,  
Pay him that thanks for all his courtesies.  Serv. 
In this employment I will strive to do  
Th' office of a subject, and of servant too.  King. 
Since to that emulous Lord we have sent our hate,  
Come to our Nuptials let's pass on in state.  Exit Enter Captain and Clown. Cap. 
The humours of Court, City, Camp, and Country I have traced, and in them can find no man, but money; all subscribe to this Motto, Malo pecuniam viro. Oh poverty, thou are esteemed a sin worse than whoredom, gluttony, extortion, or usury:  
And earthy gold, thou art preferred 'fore Heaven.  
Let but a poor man in a threadbare suit,  
Or ragged as I am, appear at Court,  
The fine-nosed Courtiers will not sent him; no,  
They shun the way as if they met the Pest:  
Or if he have a suit, it strikes them deaf,  
They cannot hear of that side.  Clown. 
Come to the City, the haberdasher will sooner call us block heads, than block us; come to the Sempsters, unless we will give them money, we cannot enter into their bands: though we have the Law of our sides, yet we may walk through Burchin-lane and be nonsuited: come barefoot to a Shoemaker, though he be a Constable, he will not put us into his Stocks; though the Girdler be my brother, yet he will not let his leather embrace me; come to the Glover, his gloves are either so little that I cannot pluck them on, or so great that I cannot compass. And for the Camp, there's honour cut out of the whole piece, but not a rag of money.  Cap. 
The Country hath alliance with the rest: my purpose is now I have so thoroughly made proof of the humours of men, I will next assay the dispositions of women, not of the choicest, but of those whom we call good wenches.  Clown. 
Pray Master if you go to a house of good fellowship, give me something to spend upon my Cockatrice; if I have nothing about me, I shall never get in.  Cap. 
there's for you sirrah; doth not the world wonder I should be so flush of money, and so bare in clothes? the reason of this I shall give account for hereafter: But to our purpose, here they say dwells my Lady Bawdy-face, here will we knock.  Enter Bawd. Bawd. 
Who's there? what would you have? ha?  Cap. 
Sweet Lady we would enter; nay by your leave.  Bawd. 
Enter? where? here be no breaches for you to enter truly.  Cap. 
And yet we are soldiers, and have ventured upon as hot service as this place affords any.  Bawd. 
Away you base companions, we have no breaches for such tattered breeches, we have no patches to suit with your rags.  Cap. 
Nay, pray give way.  Bawd. 
Away you rogues, do you come to shake your rags here? do you think we can vent our ware without money you rascals? get you from my door you beggarly companions, or I'll wash you hence with hot scalding water.  Clown. 
Nay I warrant her, wenches can afford her that at all times.  Bawd. 
Do I keep house to entertain tatterdemalions with a Pox, you will be gone?  Cap. 
We must forbear, the gallants are out of patience, stand aside.  Enter two Gentlemen. 1. Gent. 
I would fain go in, but I have spent all my money.  2. Gent. 
No matter, they shall not know so much till we get in, and then let me alone, I'll not out till I be fired out.  1. Gent. 
Then let's set a good face of the matter, By your leave Lady.  Bawd. 
You're welcome Gentlemen.  1. Gent. 
What fellows be yond?  Bawd. 
Two poor soldiers that came for an alms and please you, that stay for some reversions; there's none such come into my house I warrant you.  2. Gent. 
Save you sweet Lady.  Bawd. 
Where be those kitchenstuffs here, shall we have no attendants? show these Gentlemen into a close room, with a standing bed in't, and a truckle too; you are welcome Gentlemen.  Cap. 
'Tis general thorough the world, each state esteems A man not what he is, but what he seems:  
The purest flesh raged can no entrance have,  
But itch and all disease if it come brave,  
Wide open stand the gates of lust and sin,  
And those at which the wide world enters in.  
Madam, to be short, I must have a wench, though I am ragged outward, I am rich inward: here's a brace of Angels for you, let me have a pretty wench, I'll be as bountiful to her.  Bawd. 
Your Worship's very heartily welcome: where's Sis? Where's joice? the best room in the house for the Gentleman: call Mistress Priscilla, and bid her keep the Gentleman company.  Cap. 
I'll make bold to enter.  Bawd. 
Your Worship's most lovingly welcome: let the Gentleman have attendance, and clean linen it he need any; whither would you, you rogue?  Clown. 
Marry I would after my Master.  Bawd. 
Thy Master? why is yond raggamuffin able to keep a man?  Clown. 
ay that he is able to keep a man, and himself too.  Bawd. 
Then that man must be able to pay for himself too, or else he may cool his heels without if his appetite be hot.  Clown. 
Then shall I not go in?  Bawd. 
No by my Maidenhead shall you not, nor any such beggarly companion shall enter here, but he shall come thorough me too.  Shakes a purse. Clown. 
No? what remedy? ha, ha; he that rings at a door with such a Bell, and cannot enter? Well, if there be no remedy, I'll even stay without.  Bawd. 
Oh me! is it you Sir? and are so strong to stand at the door? Pray will you come near? your Master is new gone in afore: Lord, Lord, that you would not enter without trusting! you were even as far out of my remembrance as one that I had never seen afore.  Clown. 
I cannot blame you to forget me, for I think this be the first time of our meeting.  Bawd. 
What would you have Sir?  Clown. 
Nothing as they say, but a congratulation for our first acquaintance. I have it here old bully bottom, I have it here.  Bawd. 
I have it here too: nay, pray sir come in, I am loath to kiss at door, for fear my neighbours should see.  Clown. 
Speak, shall you and I condog together?  
I'll pay you to a hair.  Bawd. 
Nay, I beseech you sir, come in: a Gentleman, and stand at door? I'll lead the way, and you shall come behind.  Clown. 
No, no; I will not salute you after the Italian fashion: I'll enter before.  Bawd. 
Most lovingly, pray draw the latch sir.  Exit. Enter the two Gentlemen with the two wenches. 1. Gent. 
Nay faith sweet rogue thou shalt trust me for once.  1. Whore. 
Trust you? come up, canst thou pay the hackney for the hire of a horse, and think'st thou to breathe me upon trust?  1. Gen. 
Thou bid'st me come up, and shall I not ride?  1. Whore. 
Yes the gallows as soon.  2. Whore. 
A Gentleman, and have no money? marry you make a most knightly offer.  2. Gent. 
How? to offer thee no money?  2. Whore. 
How can they offer that have none?  2. Gent. 
I'll either give thee ware or money, that's as good.  2. Whore. 
ay but sir, I'll deal with no such chapmen.  Enter Bawd, Captain, and Clown. Bawd. 
What's the matter here? ha? can you not agree about the bargain?  1. Whore. 
Here's Gallants would have us breathed, and forsooth they have no money.  2. Whore. 
They think belike, diet, lodging, ruffs, clothes, and holland-smocks can all be had without money, and a disease, if we should catch it, Heaven bless us, can be cured without money.  Bawd. 
That's fine i'faith: if my beds be shaken out of their joints, or my cords broken, must not the joiner and the Rope-maker both have money? if my rags be rubbed out with your toes, can they be repaired without money? if my linen be fouled, can I pay my laundress without money? beside, we must have so something to maintain our broken windows I hope; the Glazier will not mend them without money.  1. Gent. 
Come, come let's run a score for once.  Bawd. 
You shall not score of my tally, out of my doors.  Enter Captain. Cap. 
Why shall we not be bosomed? have we paid, and must we not have wenches?  Bawd. 
You shall have the choicest of my house gentlemen.  1. Gent. 
Who, those Rascals?  Bawd. 
They be Rascals that have no money; those be Gentlemen that have Crowns; these are they that pay the joiner, the rope-maker, the Upholster, the launderer, the Glazier; will you get you out of my doors, or shall we scold you hence?  Clown. 
That you shall never by thrusting them out of doors.  1. Gent. 
Who but a mad man would be so base as to be hired, much more to hire one of those bruitists, that make no difference betwixt a Gentleman and a beggar, nay, I have seen enough to be soon entreated.  2. Gent. 
You shall not need to fear me, I am gone:  
he's passed before, nor will I stay behind;  
I have seen enough to loathe all your sisterhood.  Bawd. 
Marry farewell frost. Now Sir, will you make your choice, and your man after?  Cap. 
I'll have both, these are mine.  Clown. 
Go you then with your pair of Whores, I'll go with this old scholar that first plied me.  Bawd. 
I see thou lovest to go by water; come, shall we dally together? sit upon my knee my sweet boy, what money hast thou in thy purse? wilt thou bestow this upon me my sweet chick?  Clown. 
I'll see what I shall have first for my money by your favour.  1. Whore. 
And shall I have this?  2. Whore. 
And I this?  Cap. 
Both these are mine, we are agreed then? But I am ashamed, being such a tattered rogue, to lie with two such fine gentlewomen; beside, to tell you truly, I am lousy.  1. Whore. 
No matter, thou shalt have a clean shirt, and but pay for the washing, and thy clothes shall in the mean time be cast into an Oven.  Cap. 
But I have a worse fault, my skin's not perfect; What should I say I am?  2. Whore. 
Itchy? Oh thou shalt have Brimstone and Butter.  Cap. 
Worse than all these, my body is diseased, I shall infect yours.  1. Whore. 
If we come by any mischance, thou hast money to pay for the cure: come, shall's withdraw into the next chamber?  Cap. 
You are not women, you are devils both,  
And that your Dam; my body save in wars,  
Is yet unscarred, nor shall it be with you.  
Say the last lecher that embraced you here,  
And folded in his arms your rottenness,  
Had been all these, would you not all that filth  
Vomit on me? or who would buy diseases,  
And make his body for a Spittle fit,  
That may walk sound? I came to school you Whore,  
Not to corrupt you; for what need I that  
When you are all corruption; be he lame,  
Have he no Nose, be all his body stung  
With the French Fly, with the Sarpego dried:  
Be he a Lazar, or a Leper, bring  
Coin in his fist, he shall embrace your lust  
Before the purest flesh that sues of trust.  Bawd. 
What Diogenes have we here? I warrant the cynic himself said not so much when he was seen to come out of a Bawdy house.  Cap. 
He shamed not to come out, but held it sin  
Not to be pardoned to be seen go in.  
But I'll be modest: nay, nay, keep your Gold  
To cure those hot diseases you have got,  
And being once clear, betake you to one man,  
And study to be honest, that's my counsel:  
You have brought many like you Gentlemen  
That jet in Silks, to go thus ragged like us,  
Which did they own our thoughts, these rags would change  
To shine as we shall, though you think it strange.  
Come, come, this house is infected, shall we go?  Clown. 
Why Sir, shall I have no sport for my money, but even a snatch and away?  Cap. 
Leave me, and leave me ever, and observe  
This rule from me, where there is lodged a Whore,  
Think the plague's cross is set upon that door.  Clown. 
Then Lord have mercy upon us: where have we been?  The Clown goes learing away, and shaking his head. Bawd. 
Hist, hist; here's a railing companion indeed.  1. Whore. 
I know not what you call a railing companion: but such another discourse would make me go near to turn honest.  Bawd. 
Nay, if you be in that mind, I'll send for your love: the plague in my house? the Pox is as soon: I am sure there was never man yet that had Lord have mercy upon us in his mind, that would ever enter here: Nay will you go?  Sound, enter the King, Prince, Princess, all the Lords, the Queen, &c. King. 
Before you all I here acknowledge Lords,  
I never held me happy but in this  
My virtuous choice, in having your applause,  
Methinks I had the sweet consent of Heaven.  Princess. 
This noble Lady, now my royal Mother,  
Hath by her love to you, regard to us,  
And courteous affability to all,  
Attained the general suffrage of the Realm,  Princess. 
Her modest carriage shall be rules to me,  
Her words instructions, her behaviour precepts,  
Which I shall ever study to observe.  Queen. 
I feel my body growing by the King,  
And I am quick although he know it not;  
Now comes my father's last injunction  
To my remembrance, which I must fulfil,  
Although a Queen, I am his daughter still.  King. 
Lords, and the rest forbear us till we call,  
A chair first, and another for our Queen,  
Some private conference we intend with her:  
Now leave us.  Exeunt Lords. King. 
My fairest Isabella, the choice jewel  
That I wear next my heart; I cannot hide  
My love to thee, 'tis like the Sun enveloped  
In watery clouds, whose glory will break thorough,  
And spite opposure, scorns to be concealed;  
Saving one thing, ask what my kingdom yields.  
And it is freely thine.  Queen. 
What's that my Lord?  King. 
I cannot speak it without some distaste  
To thee my Queen, yet if thy heart be ours  
Name it not to me.  Queen. 
I am only yours.  King. 
Beg not thy father's free repeal to Court,  
And to those offices we have bestowed,  
Save this, my Kingdom, and what it contains,  
Is thy wills subject.  Queen. 
You are my King, and Husband;  
The first includes allegiance, the next duty,  
Both these have power above a Father's name,  
Though as a daughter I could wish it done,  
Yet since it stands against your Royal pleasure,  
I have no suit that way.  King. 
Thou now hast-thrust thy hand into my bosom,  
And we are one: Thy beauty, oh thy beauty!  
Never was King blessed with so fair a wife.  
I do not blame thy Father to prefer  
Thee 'fore thy sister both in love and face,  
Since Europe yields not one of equal grace:  
Why smiles my love?  Queen. 
As knowing one so fair,  
With whom my pale cheek never durst compare:  
Had you but seen my Sister, you would say,  
To her the blushing Coral should give way:  
For her cheek stains it; Lilies to her brow  
Must yield their Ivory whiteness, and allow  
Themselves o'ercome. If e'er you saw the sky  
When it was clearest, it never could come nigh  
Her Azure veins in colour; she's much clearer,  
ay, and her love much to my Father dearer.  King. 
We by our noble martial made request  
For the most fair, and her whom he best loved:  
Durst he delude us?  Queen. 
What I speak is true,  
So will yourself say when she comes in place.  King. 
Our love to thee shall not overcome that hate  
We owe thy Father, though thou be'st our Queen.  Queen. 
He keeps her as his Treasure, locks her safe  
Within his arms: he only minded me  
As one he loved not, but thought merely lost.  King. 
Thou art lost indeed, for thou hast lost my heart,  
Nor shalt thou keep it longer: all my love  
Is swallowed in the spleen I bear thy Father,  
And in this deep disgrace put on his King,  
Which we'll revenge.  Enter Prince, Princess, Chester, Clinton, Bonvile, and Audley. King. 
It shall be thus:  
Chester bear hence this Lady to her Father  
As one unworthy us, with her that dower  
The double dower he by his servant sent:  
Thy tears nor knee shall once prevail with us.  
As thou art loyal, without further language  
Depart our presence, we'll not hear thee speak.  Chest. 
What shall I further say?  King. 
Command him on his life to send to Court  
His other Daughter, and at our first summons,  
Lest we proclaim him Traitor: this see done  
On thy Allegiance.  Chest. 
Now the goal is ours.  King. 
None dare to censure or examine this,  
That we shall hold our friend, or of our blood:  
Subjects that dare against their Kings contend,  
Hurl themselves down whilst others hie ascend.  Exit.  

Actus quartus.  Enter the martial and his daughter Katherine, Mar. 
I see the King is truly honourable:  
All my disgraces and disparagements  
He hath made good to me in this to queen my child,  
And which more glads me, with such ardency  
He seems to affect her, and to hold her dear,  
That nothing's valued, if compared with her.  
Now Heaven whilst thou this second happiness  
And bliss wilt lend me, I shall still grow great  
In my content, opinion, and my fate,  
In spite of whisperers, and Court-flatterers.  Kath. 
Had you best loved my Sister, and less me,  
I had been Queen before her; but she ventured  
For her preferment, therefore 'tis her due;  
Out of our fears and loves her honours grew.  Mar. 
Whilst I may keep thy beauty in mine eye,  
And with her new raised fortunes fill mine ear,  
I second none in bliss; she's my Court comfort,  
Thou my home happiness: in these two blessed,  
Heaven hath enriched me with a crown of rest.  Kath. 
Nor do I cover greater Royalties  
Than to enjoy your presence, and your love,  
The best of these I prize above all fortunes,  
Nor would I change them for my sister's state.  Mar. 
Her beauty and her virtues mixed, have won  
The King my Sovereign to be termed my son.  Enter Servant. Ser. 
earl Chester, with the Queen your princely daughter  
Are without train alighted at the gate,  
And by this entered.  Mar. 
Thou hast troubled me,  
And with a thousand thoughts at once perplexed  
My affrighted heart: admit them; soft, not yet;  
What might this mean? my daughter in the charge  
Of him that is my greatest opposite,  
And without train, such as becomes a Queen?  
More tempest towards Kate? from which sweet child,  
If I may kept thee, may it on my head  
Pour all his wrath, even till it strike me dead.  Kath. 
Rather, my Lord, your Royal life to free,  
All his stern fury let him shower on me.  Ser. 
My Lord shall I admit them?  Mar. 
Prithee stay,  
Fate threatens us, I would devise a means  
To shun it if we might: thou shalt withdraw,  To his Daughter. 
And not be seen; something we must devise  
To guard ourselves, and stand our opposites:  
Go keep your chamber, now let Chester in.  Serv. 
I shall my Lord.  Mar. 
My Loyalty for me, that keep me still;  
A Tower of safety, and a shield 'gainst Fate.  Enter the servant ushering Chester and the Queen. Chest. 
The King thy daughter hath in scorn sent back.  Mar. 
Pause there, and as youare noble answer me  
ere you proceed but to one question.  Chest. 
Propound it.  Mar. 
Whence might this distaste arise?  
From any loose demeanour wanton carriage,  
Spouse-breach, or disobedience in my daughter?  
If so, I'll not receive her, she's not mine.  Queen. 
That let mine enemy speak, for in this kind  
I would be taxed by such.  Chest. 
Upon my soul  
There is no guilt in her.  Mar. 
Be't but his humour,  
thouart welcome, both my daughter and my Queen;  
In this my Palace thou shalt reign alone,  
I'll keep thy state, and make these arms thy Throne:  
Whilst thou art chaste, thy style with thee shall stay,  
And reign, though none but I and mine obey.  
What can you further speak?  Chest. 
Her double Dower  
The King returns thee.  Mar. 
We accept it, see,  
It shall maintain her port even with her name,  
Being my king's wife, so will I love his Grace,  
She shall not want, will double this maintain her.  Chest. 
Being thus discharged of her, I from the King  
Command thee send thy fairer Girl to Court,  
She that's at home, with her to act his pleasure.  Mar. 
Sir, you were sent to challenge, not to kill;  
These are not threats, but blows, they wound, they wound.  Chest. 
If treason's imputation thou wilt shun,  
And not incur the forfeit of thy life,  
Let the Kings will take place.  Mar. 
You have my offices,  
Would you had now my grief; but that alone  
I must endure: would thou hadst both, or none.  
Sentence of death when it is mildly spoke,  
Halt promises life; but when your doom you mix  
With such rough threats, what is't but twice to kill?  
You tyrannize Earl Chester.  Chest. 
Will you send her?  Mar. 
That you shall know anon. Tell me my Queen,  
How grew this quarrel 'tween the King and thee?  Queen. 
By you was never Lady more beloved,  
Or wife more constant than I was to him:  
Have you forgot your charge, when I perceived  
myself so grown, I could no longer hide  
My greatness, I began to speak the beauties  
Of my fair Sister, and how much she excelled,  
And that you sent me thither as a jest,  
That she was fairest, and you loved her best?  Mar. 
Enough; thouart sure with child, and near thy time  Queen. 
Nothing more sure.  Mar. 
Then that from hence shall grow  
A salve for all our late indignities:  
Pray do my humble duty to the King.  
And thus excuse me, that my daughter's sick,  
Crazed, and weak, and that her native beauty  
Is much decayed; and should she travel now,  
Before recovered, 'twould engage her life  
To too much danger: when she hath ability  
And strength to journey, I will send her safe  
Unto my King; this as I am a subject,  
And loyal to his Highness.  Chest. 
Your excuse  
Hath ground from love and reason:  
This your answer I shall return to the King.  Mar. 
With all my thanks:  
That since my daughter doth distaste his bed,  
He hath sent her back, and home to me her father,  
His pleasure I withstand not, but return  
My zeal, and these do not forget I pray.  Chest. 
I shall your words have perfect, and repeat them Unto the King.  Mar. 
I should disgrace her beauty  
To send it maimed and waning; but when she  
Attains her perfectness, then shall appear  
The brightest star fixed in your Courtly Sphere.  Chest. 
The King shall know as much.  Mar. 
It is my purpose,  
All my attempts to this one head to draw,  
Once more in courtesies to o'ercome the King.  
Come beauteous Queen, and thy fair Sister cheer,  
Whom this sad news will both amaze and fear.  Exeunt. Enter Bonvile in all his bravery, and his man in a new livery. Cap. 
Sirrah, are all my lands out of mortgage, and my deeds redeemed?  Clown. 
I cannot tell that Sir; but we have had whole chestfuls of writings brought home to our house.  Cap. 
Why then 'tis done, I am possessed again  
Of all my Father's ancient revenues.  Clown. 
But how came you by all this money to buy these new suits? methinks we are not the men we were.  Cap. 
Questionless that;. for now those that before despised us, and our company, at meeting give us the bonjour.  
Oh Heaven, thou ever art virtue's sole Patron,  
And wilt not let it sink: all my known fortunes  
I had engaged at home, or spent abroad:  
But in the wars, when I was held quite bankrupt  
Of all good hap, it was my chance to quarter  
In such a house when we had sacked a Town,  
That yielded me inestimable store  
Of gold and jewels, those I kept till now  
Unknown to any, pleading poverty,  
Only to try the humour of my friends;  
Which I have proved, and now know how to find  
Fixed upon wealth, to want unnatural.  Enter Match and Touchbox. Clown. 
See Sir, yonder are my old fellows, Match and Touch box; I do not think but they come to offer their service to you.  Touch. 
Save thee noble Captain, hearing of thy good fortunes, and advancement, I am come to offer myself to be partaker of the same, and to follow thee in the same colours that thou hast suited the rest of thy servants.  Clown. 
God-a-mercy horse, you shall not stand to my livery.  Match 
You see our old clothes stick by us still, good Captain see us new moulded.  Cap. 
You are flies, away; they that my Winter fled,  
Shall not my Summer taste: they only merit  
A happy harbour, that through stormy Seas  
Hazard their Barks, not they that sail with ease.  
You taste none of my fortunes.  Clown. 
Corporal, you see this Livery? if you had stayed by it, we had been both cut out of a piece: Match, if you had not left us, you had been one of this guard: Go, away, betake you to the end of the Town; let me find you between Woods close-stile and Islington, with will it please your Worship to bestow the price of two cans upon a poor soldier, that hath served in the face of the Sultan, and so forth, Apage, away, I scorn to be fellow to any that will leave their Masters in adversity: if he entertain you, he shall turn away me, that's certain.  Match. 
Then good your Worship bestow something upon a poor soldier, I protest—  Clown. 
lo, I have taught him his lesson already; I knew where I should have you?  Cap. 
There's first to make you beggars; for to that all such must come that leave their Masters poor. begone, and never let me see you more.  Touch. 
God be with you good Captain: come Match, let us betake us to our rendezvous at some out end of the City.  Cap. 
He makes a beggar first that first relieves him;  
Not Usurers make more beggars where they live,  
Than charitable men that use to give.  Clown. 
Here comes a Lord.  Enter Clinton. Clin. 
I am glad to see you Sir.  Cap. 
You know me now? your Worship's wondrous wise,  
You could not know me in my last disguise.  Clin. 
Lord God you were so changed.  Cap. 
So am I now  
From what I was of late: you can allow  
This habit well, but put my tother on,  
No congee then, your Lordship must be gone.  
You are my Summer-friend.  Enter Bonvile Bonv. 
Cousin, well met.  Cap. 
You should have said well found  
For I was lost but late, dead, under ground  
Our Kindred was: when I redeemed my Land,  
They both revived, and both before you stand,  Bon. 
Well, well, I know you now.  Cap. 
And why not then?  
I am the same without all difference; when  
You saw me last, I was as rich, as good,  
Have no additions since of name, or blood;  
Only because I wore a threadbare suit,  
I was not worthy of a poor salute.  
A few good clothes put on with small ado,  
Purchase your knowledge, and your kindred too.  
You are my silken Uncle: oh my Lord,  Enter Audley and his Daughter. 
You are not in haste now?  Aud. 
I have time to stay,  
To ask you how you do, being glad to hear  
Of your good fortune, your repurchased lands,  
And state much amplified.  Cap. 
All this is true;  
ay but my Lord, let me examine you:  
Remember you a Contract that once passed  
Betwixt me and your daughter? here she stands.  Aud. 
Sir, since you did unmortgage all your means,  
It came into my thoughts; trust me, before  
I could not call't to mind.  Cap. 
Oh men's weak strength,  
That aim at worlds, when they but their mere length  
Must at their end enjoy: Thou then art mine,  
Of all that I have proved in poverty,  
The only test of virtue: what are these?  
Though they be Lords, but worldlings, men all earth.  
Thou art above them; virtuous, that's divine;  
Only thy heart is noble, therefore mine.  Mary. 
And to be yours is to be what I wish;  
You were to me as welcome in your rags,  
As in these Silks. I never did examine  
The out side of a man, but I begin  
To censure first of that which grows within.  Cap. 
Only for that I love thee: These are Lords  
That have bought Titles. Men may merchandise  
Wares, ay, and traffic all commodities  
From Sea to Sea, ay and from shore to shore,  
But in my thoughts, of all things that are sold,  
'Tis pity Honour should be bought for gold.  
It cuts off all desert.  Enter the Host. Clown. 
Master, who's here? mine Host of the Ordinary?  Cap. 
Your business sir? what by petition?  Host. 
fall'n to a little decay by trusting, and knowing your Worship ever a bountiful young Gentleman, I make bold to make my wants first known to you.  Cap. 
Pray what's your suit?  Host. 
Only for a cast suit, or some small remuneration.  Cap. 
And thou shalt have the suit I last put off: Fetch it me Cock.  Cock. 
I shall Sir.  Cap. 
fall'n to decay? I'll fit you in your kind.  Cock. 
I have a suit to you Sir, and this it is.  Cap. 
In this suit came I to thine Ordinary,  
In this thou wouldst have thrust me out of doors,  
Therefore with this that then proclaimed me poor,  
I'll salve thy wants, nor will I give thee more.  
Base worldlings, that despise all such as need;  
Who to the needy beggar are still dumb,  
Not knowing unto what themselves may come.  Host. 
I have a cold suit on't if I be forced to wear it in winter. I bid your worship farewell.  Clown. 
So should all that keep Ordinaries, bid their guests farewell, though their entertainment be never so ill. Well sir, I take you but for an ordinary fellow, and so I leave you. Master, who will not say that you are a brave fellow, and a most noble Captain, that with a word or two can discomfit an Host.  Cap. 
I know you, therefore know to rate your worths  
Both to their height and depth, their true dimensions  
I understand; for I have tried them all:  
But thou art of another element,  
A mirror of thy sex, that canst distinguish  
Virtue from wealth, thee as my own I elect,  
And these according to themselves despise.  
A Courtier henceforth I myself profess,  
And thee my wife, thou hast deserved no less.  Enter the King, the Prince, and the Princess, and Chester. King. 
No news yet from our martial? we three months  
Have stayed his leisure, but receive not yet  
That daughter we sent for.  Prince. 
She peradventure  
Hath not her strength recovered, or her beauty  
Lost by her sickness, to the full regained.  Chest. 
Upon my life my Lord, when she is perfect,  
And hath received her full ability,  
She shall attend your pleasure.  Princess. 
But your Queen,  
That virtuous Lady, when I think on her,  
I can but grieve at her dejectedness.  King. 
Heaven knows I love her above all the world,  
And but her Father, this contends with us  
When we in all our actions strive to exceed:  
We could not brook her absence half so long.  
But we will try his patience to the full.  Enter Bonvile, Audley, Captain, Clinton, Marry the Clown. Cap. 
My prostrate duty to the King my Master  
I here present.  Prince. 
This is the Gentleman  
Commended for his valour in your wars,  
Whose ruined fortunes I made suit to raise:  
I would entreat your Highness to respect him.  King. 
All his proceedings we partake at large,  
Know both his fall and height; we shall regard him  
Even with his worth: be near us, of our chamber.  
Sir, we shall use your wisdom, and prefer it  
According to your worth. Be this your hope  
We know you.  Cap. 
Only in that I am happy.  Enter the Servant. Serv. 
Health to your Majesty.  King. 
Whence?  Serv. 
From my Master,  
The pOOrest subject that your land contains,  
Rich only in his truth and loyalty.  King. 
Speak, hath he sent his daughter?  Serv. 
Yes my Liege,  
He hath sent his daughters, please you rest satisfied,  
And patiently peruse what he hath sent.  King. 
We are full of expectations, pray admit  
Those Presents that he means to greet us with.  Serv. 
You shall my Lord.  Sound, enter with two Gentlemen-ushers before them, the Queen crowned, her sister to attend her as her waiting-maid, with a train. Serv. 
Your Queen and wife crowned with a wreath of gold  
Of his own charge, with that this double dower  
Doubled again, and guarded with this train  
Of Gentlewomen according to her state,  
My Lord presents you: this his younger daughter,  
He hath bestowed a handmaid to your Queen,  
A place that may become her, were she child  
Unto your greatest Peer; had he had more,  
More had he sent; these worthless as they be,  
He humbly craves you would receive by me.  King. 
His bounty hath no limit, but my Queen!  
Her bright aspect so much persuades with me,  
It charms me more than his humility.  
Arise in grace, and sweet, forget your wrong.  Queen. 
My joys unspeakable can find no tongue  
To express my true heart's meaning.  King. 
Beauteous Maid,  
You are our Sister, and that royal Title  
From all disgrace your freedom shall proclaim.  Kath. 
I find your Grace the same my noble Father  
Hath still reported you; royal in all,  
By whom the virtuous rise, th' th'ignoble fall.  Prince. 
I have not seen a Lady more complete;  
Her modesty and beauty, both are matchless.  King. 
Am I a King, and must be exceeded still?  
Or shall a subject say that we can owe?  
His bounty we will equal, and exceed;  
We have power to better what in him's but well.  
Your free opinions Lords, is not this Lady  
The fairer of the twain? how durst our subject  
Than dally with us in that high design?  Chest. 
With pardon of the Queen, she's paralleled  
By her fair Sister.  Clin. 
Were my censure free,  
I durst say bettered.  Prince. 
Were it put to me,  
I should avow she, not the Queen alone  
Excels in grace: but all that I have seen—  King. 
Dost love her?  Prince. 
As my honour, or my life.  King. 
Her whom thou so much praisest, take to wise.  Prince. 
You bless my youth.  Kate. 
And strive to eternize me.  Queen. 
Nor in this joy have I the meanest part,  
Now doth your Grace your inward love express  
To me, and mine.  King. 
I never meant thee less:  
Thy Sister and thy daughter freely embrace,  
That next thee hath our kingdom's second place,  
How say you Lords, have we requited well  
Our subjects bounty? are we in his debt?  Aud. 
Your Highness is in courtesy invincible.  Bonv. 
And bountiful beyond comparison.  Chest. 
This must not hold, prevention out of hand,  
For if the martial rise, we stand not long.  Clin. 
Our wits must then to work.  Chest. 
They must of force.  
This is not that to which our fortunes trust.  King. 
Let then our subject know his King hath power  
To vanquish him in all degrees of honour,  
And he must now confess himself excelled:  
With what can Heaven or Earth his want supply  
To equal this our latest courtesy?  
We have the day, we rise, and he must fall  
As one subdued.  Serv. 
His Highness knows not all,  
One special gift he hath reserved in store,  
May happily make your Grace contend no more.  King. 
No sir? think you your Master will yet yield?  
And leave to us the honour of the day?  
I wish him here but this last sight to see,  
To make him us acknowledge.  Serv. 
On my knee  
One boon I have to beg.  King. 
Speak, let me know  
Thy utmost suit.  Serv. 
My noble Master stays  
Not far from Court, and durst he be so ambitious  
As but to appear before you, and present you  
With a rich gift exceeding all have passed,  
The only perfect token of his zeal,  
He would himself perpetually hold vanquished  
In all degrees of love and courtesy.  King. 
For our queen's love, and our fair daughter's sake,  
We do not much care if we grant him that.  
Admit him, and his presence urge with speed;  
Well may he imitate, but not exceed.  Chest. 
I fear our fall: if once the martial rise,  
Down, down must we.  Clin. 
Therefore devise some plot  
His favour to prevent.  Chest. 
Leave it to me.  King. 
Lords, we are proud of this our unity,  
Double Alliance, of our sons fair choice,  
Since 'tis applauded by your general voice;  
The rather since so matchless is our Grace,  
That force perforce our subject must give place.  Enter the martial, with a rich Cradle borne after him by two Servants. Mar. 
Not to contend, but to express a duty  
Of zeal and homage I present your grace  
With a rich jewel, which can only value  
These royal honours to my daughter's done.  King. 
Value our bounty? shouldst thou sell thyself  
Even to thy skin, thou couldst not rate it truly.  Mar. 
My Liege, I cannot, but in lieu and part,  
Though not in satisfaction, I make bold  
To tender you this Present.  King. 
What's the project?  
Here's cost and art, and amply both expressed,  
I have not viewed the like.  Prince. 
'Tis wondrous rare,  
I have not seen a Model richlier framed.  Princess. 
Or for the quantity better contrived:  
This Lord in all his actions is still noble,  
Exceeding all requital.  King. 
'Tis a brave outside.  Mar. 
This that you see my Lord is nothing yet;  
More than its worth it hath commended been:  
This is the case, the jewel lies within,  
Pleaseth your Grace t'unveil it.  King. 
Yes, I will:  
But ere I open it my Lord, I doubt  
The wealth within not equals that without.  King. 
What have we here?  Mar. 
A jewel I should rate,  
Were it mine own, above your Crown and Sceptre,  King. 
A child?  Mar. 
A Prince, one of your royal blood:  
Behold him King, my grandchild, and thy son,  
Truly descended from thy Queen and thee,  
The Image of thyself.  King. 
How can this be?  Queen. 
My royal Liege and Husband, view him well,  
If your own favour you can call to mind,  
Behold it in this Infant, limned toth' life;  
he's yours and mine, no kindred can be nearer.  King. 
To this rich jewel I hold nothing equal,  
I know thee virtuous, and thy father loyal;  
But should I doubt both, yet this royal Infant  
Hath such affection in my heart impressed,  
That it assures him mine: my noble subject,  
Thou hast at length o'ercome me, and I now  
Shall ever, ever hold me vanquished.  
Hadst thou sought Earth or Sea, and from them both  
Extracted that which was most precious held,  
Thou nothing couldst have found to equal this,  
This, the mixed Image of my Queen and me;  
Here then shall all my emulation end,  
o'ercome by thee our subject, and our friend.  Mar. 
Your vassal, and your servant, that have striven  
Only to love you, and your royal favours:  
Not to requite, for that I never can;  
But to acknowledge, and in what I may  
To express my gratitude.  King. 
Thine is the conquest:  
But shall I gi't o'er thus? 'tis in my head  
How I this lost days honour shall regain,  
A gift as great as rich I have in store,  
With which to gratify our subjects' love,  
And of a value unrequitable:  
Thou hast given me a Grandchild, and a son,  
A royal infant, and to me most dear,  
Yet to surpass thee in this emulous strife,  
I give thee here a daughter and a wife.  
Now must thou needs confess the conquest won  
By me thy King, thy Father, and thy son.  Mar. 
Your father, son, and subject quite surpassed,  
Yields himself vanquished and o'ercome at length.  Princess. 
You have not my consent yet.  Mar. 
Madam, no;  
The king doth this, his bounty to express.  
Your love is to yourself, and therefore free,  
Bestow it where you please.  Princess. 
Why then on thee:  
He that the Father doth so much respect,  
Should not methinks the daughter's love despise.  
'Tis good for Maids take Husbands when they may.  
Heaven knows how long we may be forced to stay.  King. 
Now Lords, these Nuptials we will solemnize  
In all high state, in which we will include  
Yours noble Bonvile, and with masks and revels  
Sport out the tedious nights, each hand his Bride  
Doubly by us from either part allied.  Enter Clown. Cock. 
Why this is as it should be; now do I smell Courtier already, I feel the Soldier steal out of me by degrees, for Soldier and Courtier can hardly dwell both together in one bosom. I have a kind of fawning humour creeping upon me as soon as I but looked into the ourt-gate; and now could I take a bribe, if any would be so foolish to gi't me. Now farewell Gunpowder, I must change thee into Damask-powder; for if I offer but to smell like a soldier, the Courtiers will stop their noses when they pass by me. My cask I must change to a Cap and a Feather, my bandillero to a Scarf to hang my Sword in, and indeed, fashion myself wholly to the humours of the time. My Piece I must alter to a Poynado, and my Pike to a Pickadevant: only this is my comfort, that our provant will be better here in the Court than in the Camp: there we did use to lie hard, and seldom: here I must practise to lie extremely, and often: But whilst I am trifling here, I shall lose the fight of the Solemnity: The Prince is married, and the martial's married, and my Master's married, there will be simple doings at night. Well, I must hence, for I believe, the King, the Queen, and the rest of the Lords will use this place for their revels. Dixi.   

Actus Quintus.  Enter Clinton and Chester. Clin. 
And why so sad my Lord?  Chest. 
I am all dulness,  
There's no life in me, I have lost my spirit,  
And fluence of my brain: observe you not  
In what a height you fellow now resides  
That was so late dejected; trebly grafted  
Into the Royal blood? what can succeed,  
But that we all our honours must resign,  
And he of them be repossessed again?  Clin. 
The Marriages indeed are celebrated.  Chest. 
And they have all our pointed stratagems  
Turned back upon ourselves.  Clin. 
What, no prevention?  Chest. 
His Bases are so fixed he cannot shrink,  
Being so many ways engraft and planted  
In the king's blood: but our supporters stand  
As shaked with Earthquakes, or else built on sand.  Enter Audley and Bonvile. Aud. 
My Lords attend the King, and clear this chamber,  
For this nights revels 'tis the place prepared.  Bon. 
Your duties Lords, the King's upon his entrance.  Enter the King, the Queen, the Prince, his wife, the martial and the Princess. King. 
ay, so 'tmust be, each man hand his own:  
For I am where I love; we are even coupled,  
Some Music then.  Princess. 
Here's one falls off from me.  King. 
How now my Lord, dejected in your looks?  
Or doth our sports distaste you?  Mar. 
Pardon me,  
I cannot dance my Liege.  King. 
You can look on:  
My Lord, you take his place, we'll have a measure,  
And I will lead it; bid the Music strike.  A measure: in the midst the martial goes discontented away. 
So, well done Ladies: but we miss the Husband  
To our fair Daughter, what's become of him?  Chest. 
Gone discontented hence.  King. 
What might this mean?  
Doth he distaste his Bride, or envy us  
That are degreed above him? where's our Queen?  Queen. 
My Liege?  King. 
You shall unto him instantly,  
Attended with a beauteous train of Ladies,  
And to his Chamber bear his princely Bride.  
Bonvile, take you her royal Dower along,  
You shall receive it of our Treasurer.  Cap. 
I shall my Lord.  King. 
Usher the Queen and Ladies, be their guide,  
That done, each one to bed with his fair Bride.  Enter martial. Mar. 
I am so high, that when I look but down,  
To see how far the earth is under me,  
It quakes my body, and quite chills my blood:  
And in my fear although I stand secure,  
I am like him that falls. I but a subject,  
And married to the Daughter of the King,  
Though some may think me happy in this match,  
To me 'tis fearful: who would have a wife  
Above him in command, to embrace with awe,  
Whom to displease, is to distaste the King?  
It is to have a Mistress, not a wife,  
A Queen, and not a subject's bedfellow.  
State I could wish abroad to crown my head,  
But never yet loved Empire in my bed.  Enter servant. Serv. 
The Queen your daughter with your princely Bride,  
And other Ladies, make way towards your chamber.  Mar. 
'Tis open to receive them, pray them in.  Enter Bonvile, the Queen, the Princess, &c. Queen. 
My Lord the King commends his love to you  
In your fair Bride, whom royally conducted  
He hath sent to be the partner of your bed.  Mar. 
Whom we receive in the arms of gratitude,  
Duty to him, and nuptial love to her.  Prince. 
'Tis well they brought me, trust me my dear Lord,  
I should have scarce had face to have come myself;  
But yet their boldness mixed with mine together,  
Makes me to venture I yet scarce know whither.  Mar. 
'Tis to our Nuptial bed.  Princess. 
ay so they say,  
But unto me it is a patch unknown;  
Yet that which cheers me, I shall do no more  
Than those, and such as I, have done before.  
Sure 'tis a thing that must, though without skill,  
Even when you please, I am ready for your will.  Cap. 
With her the King hath sent this princely dower,  
In which his love and bounty he commends.  Mar. 
You are noble Sir, and honour waits on you  
To crown your future fortunes: for that Casket,  
Her beauty and her birth are dower sufficient  
For me a subject.  
I cannot think so much good to my King  
As I am owing for her single self:  
Then with all duty pray return that sum.  
Her dower is in herself, and that I'll keep  
Which in these loyal all arms this night shall sleep:  
That is the Kings, with that this jewel too,  
I think her cheap bought at that easy rate;  
My second duty in that gift commend,  
Were I worth more, more I have will to send.  Cap. 
An Emperor cannot show more Royalty  
Than this brave Peer, he's all magnificent:  
I shall with the best eloquence I have,  
Make known your thoughts.  Mar. 
To all at once good night:  
Save this my beauteous Bride, no wealth I prize,  
That hath my heart took captive in her eyes.  
Lights for the Queen and Ladies, night grows old,  
I count my Virtue treasure, not my Gold.  Exeunt divers ways. Enter Clinton to the Earl Chester in his study. Clin. 
What not at rest my Lord?  Chest. 
Why who can sleep  
That hath a labouring brain, and sees from far  
So many storms and tempests threaten him?  
It is not in my element to do't.  Clin. 
Find you no project yet how to remove him?  Chest. 
None, none, and therefore can I find no rest.  Clin. 
It grows towards day.  Chest. 
That day is night to me,  
Whilst you Sun shines: I had this even some conference  
In private with the King, in which I urged  
The marshal's discontent, withal inferred,  
That by his look the Princess he despised:  
The King changed face: and could we second this  
By any new conjecture, there were hope.  
To draw him in displeasure.  Clin. 
Watch advantage,  
And as you find the humour of the King,  
Work it unto the marshal's deep disgrace:  
But soft the Prince.  Enter the Prince and Katherine. Kath. 
So early up, how did you like your rest?  Prince. 
I found my most rest in my most unrest;  
A little sleep serves a new married man:  
The first night of his bridals I have made you  
A Woman of a Maid.  Kath. 
You were up  
Both late and early.  Prince. 
Why you were abroad  
Before the Sun was up, and the most wise  
Do say 'tis healthful still betimes to rise.  
Good day.  Chest. 
In one, ten thousand.  Prince. 
Lords, you have not seen  
The King today? it was his custom ever  
Still to be stirring early with the Sun;  
But here's his Majesty.  Enter Captain and the King, Audley, and Bonvile. King. 
Not all your smooth and cunning Oratory  
Can colour so his pride, but we esteem him  
A flattering Traitor, one that scorns our love,  
And in disdain sent back our daughter's Dower:  
Your judgement Lords?  Chest. 
Hath he refused the Princess?  King. 
No; but her Dower sent back, and insolently;  
Her whom we gave, he with a gift would buy,  
A jewel; shall we merchandise our Daughter,  
As one not able to bestow her nobly,  
But that our poverty must force us sell her?  Cap. 
Your Highness much mispriseth his intent,  
For he had no such thought.  King. 
We know his pride,  
Which his ambition can no longer shadow.  Chest. 
Your Highness might do well to call in question  
His insolence and to arraign him for't.  King. 
Be you his judges Bonvile, Audley, you:  
Command him straight on his Allegiance,  
To make appearance, and to answer us  
Before our Lords of his contempt and scorn.  Prince 
Shall we command him hither?  King. 
From his bed,  
And if convicted, he shall surely pay for't.  Aud. 
We shall my Lord.  Chest. 
Arraign him on the sudden, ere it proved;  
Le him not dream upon evasive shifts,  
But take him unprepared.  Clin. 
Shall we command  
A Bar, and call a jury of his Peers,  
Whilst Chester, that enjoys the place of martial,  
Objects such Allegations 'gainst his life,  
As he hath drawn out of his rude demeanour?  King. 
It shall be so; a Bar, and instantly  
We will ourself in person hear him speak,  
And see what just excuse he can produce  
For his contempt.  Prince. 
My gracious Lord and Father,  
What he hath done to you, proceeds of honour,  
Not of disdain, or scorn; he's truly noble:  
And if a Regal bounty be a sin  
In any subject, he's only guilty  
Of that true virtue.  Cap. 
Saw your Majesty  
With what an humble zeal, and prostrate love  
He did retender your fair Daughter's Dower,  
You would not his intent thus misreceive.  Chest. 
'Tis humble pride, and mere hypocrisy  
To blind the King, 'tis but ambitious zeal,  
And a dissembling cunning to aspire.  Kath. 
My Father called in question for his life?  
Oh let not me a sad spectator be  
Of such a dismal object.  Prince. 
Nor will I,  
But leave them to their hated cruelty.  King. 
This is no place for Ladies, we allow  
Her absence; of the rest let none depart,  
Till we have searched the cunning of his heart.  A Bar set out, the King and Chester, with Clinton, and the Prince, and Captain take their seats, Audley and Bonvile bring him to the Bar as out of his bed, then take their seats. Mar. 
A Bar, a judgement seat, and jury set?  
Yet cannot all this daunt our innocence.  Chest. 
You have disloyally sought to exceed  
The King your Sovereign, and his royal deeds  
To blemish, which your fellow Peers thus construe,  
That strengthened by th'alliance of the King,  
And better armed by the people's love,  
You may prove dangerous.  
In policy of state to quench the sparks  
Before they grow to flame, and top your height,  
Before your spacious branches spread too far,  
What to this general motion can you say,  
Before we tax you with particulars?  Mar. 
With reverence to the State 'fore which I stand,  
That you my Lord of Chester appear shallow,  
To think my actions can disgrace the Kings,  
As if the luster of a petty Star  
Should with the Moon compare: Alas, my deeds  
Conferred with his, are like a candle's light  
To outshine the midday's glory. Can the King  
The glorious mirror of all gratitude,  
Condemn that virtue in another's bosom,  
Which in his own shines so transparently?  
Oh pardon me, mere virtue is my end,  
Whose pitch the King doth many times transcend.  Clin. 
To tax you more succinctly, you have first  
Abused the King in sending to the Court  
Your daughter less fair, and the least beloved.  Aud. 
And that includes contempt most barbarous,  
Which you in that unsubject-like expressed:  
Your former emulations we omit.  
As things that may find tolerable excuse,  
And are indeed not matters capital:  
But to the best and greatest, when the King,  
Out of his bounty and magnificence  
Vouchsafed to style thee with the name of son,  
Being but a subject, with contorted brows  
And looks of scorn you took his courtesy,  
And in contempt sent back the Princess dower.  Chest. 
Most true; a grounded proposition  
To question you of life.  Mar. 
My life my lords?  
It pleases me, that the King in person deigns  
To grace my cause with his Majestic ear:  
You plead for me in this, and speak my excuse.  
I have but two in all,  
He sent for one, and he received them both,  
With them a sweet and lovely Prince to boot;  
whoever lost, I am sure the King hath won  
At once, a wife, a daughter, and a son.  Bonv. 
'Tis true my Lord, we all can witness it.  Mar. 
He that my discontent objects to me,  
With the fair Princess speaks uncertainly.  
The man judicious such for fools allows,  
As have their inward hearts drawn in their brows:  
Is there in all that bench a man so honest  
That can in this be discontent with me?  
I charge you all; those favours I receive  
From his high Majesty, I swallow not  
With greedy appetite, perhaps like you:  
When I am graced, it comes with awe and fear,  
Lest I offend that Prince that holds me dear.  
That for my brow.  Chest. 
But for your scornful sending  
Of the fair Princess dower back to th' King,  
How can you answer that?  Mar. 
Why Chester thus:  
I am a man, though subject; if the meanest  
Lord o'er his wife; why should that privilege  
Be only bar me? should I wive an Empress,  
And take her dowerless, should we love, or hate,  
In that my bounty equals her estate.  
Witness that judge above you, I esteem  
The Princess dearly, and yet married her  
But as my wife, for which I am infinitely  
Bound to the King: why should I grow engaged  
Above my power, since this my Lords you know,  
The less we run in debt, the less we owe.  
Give me my thoughts, and score you on I pray,  
I wish no more than I have means to pay.  Chest. 
Shall we my Lord his actions censure freely?  King. 
And sentence them.  Aud. 
A Persian History  
I read of late, how the great Sophy once  
Flying a noble Falcon at the Herne,  
In comes by chance an Eagle sousing by,  
Which when the Hawk espies, leaves her first game,  
And boldly ventures on the King of Birds;  
Long tugged they in the Air, till at the length  
The Falcon better breathed, seized on the Eagle,  
And struck it dead: The Barons praised the Bird,  
And for her courage she was peerless held.  
The Emperor, after some deliberate thoughts,  
Made him no less: he caused a Crown of gold  
To be new framed, and fitted to her head  
In honour of her courage: Then the Bird  
With great applause was to the marketplace  
In tri triumph born, where, when her utmost worth  
Had been proclaimed, the common Executioner  
First by the Kings command took off her Crown,  
And after with a sword struck off her head,  
As one no better than a noble Traitor  
Unto the King of Birds.  Chest. 
This use we make  
From this your ancient Persian History,  
That you a noble and a courteous Peer,  
Praised for your hospital virtues and high bounty,  
Shall be first crowned with Laurel to your worth:  
But since you durst against your Sovereign  
Oppose yourself, you by your pride misled,  
Shall as a noble Traitor lose your head.  King. 
That Sentence we confirm, and it shall stand  
Irrevocable by our straight command.  Mar. 
I am glad my Liege I have a life yet left,  
In which to show my bounty, even in that  
I will be liberal, and spend it for you;  
Take it, 'tis the last jewel that I have,  
In lieu of which oh grant me but a grave.  King. 
A Laurel wreath, a scaffold, and a block,  
ourself will see the Execution done:  
Only thy life is ours, thy goods are free.  Mar. 
My Lord, you are the life of courtesy,  
And you are kind unto me above measure,  
To give away what might enrich yourself.  
Since they are mine, I will bestow them thus:  
The best of those that were so late but yours,  
My jewels, ay, by will, restore you back,  
You shall receive them separate from the rest:  
To you the king's son, and by marriage mine,  
On you I will bestow my Armoury,  
Stables of Horse, and weapons for the wars,  
I know you love a Soldier: to the Princess,  
And my two Daughters I give equal portions  
From my revenue; but if my fair wife  
Prove, and produce a Male-child, him I make  
My universal Heir, but if a Female,  
Her Dower is with the rest proportionable.  
The next I give, it is my Soul to Heaven,  
Where my Creator reigns: my words thus end,  
Body to Earth, my Soul to Heaven ascend.  Enter the Queen, Katherine, the Princess, and the other Lady. Princess. 
Stay.  Queen. 
Hold  Kath. 
Executioner forbear.  Queen. 
Hear me a Daughter for a Father plead.  Princess. 
Oh Father, hear me for my husband's life,  
Doubly allied, I am his Niece and Wife.  Kath. 
Oh Father hear me, for a Father crave.  Queen. 
Than sentence him oh let me perish rather;  
I plead for him that's both my son and Father.  Kath. 
Oh make your mercy to this prisoner free.  Queen. 
Father to us.  Princess. 
And Husband unto me.  King. 
Hence with these womanish clamours.  Prince. 
Unto these  
Let me my Liege presume to add another,  
Behold him kneel that is your son and brother.  Kath. 
Your Sister and your Daughter great King hear.  Princess. 
Your Mother and your Daughter.  Queen. 
Or like dear,  
Your Queen and Sister.  Princess. 
Speak, what hath he done?  Prince. 
whoever saw a father on a son  
Give sentence? or my Royal Lord, which rather  
Adds to your guilt, a son condemn the father?  Chest. 
My Liege, command them hence, they but disturb  
The Traitor in his death.  King. 
A traitor's he  
That dares so term him, Chester, we mean thee:  
Our best of subjects, with our height of grace  
We wed thee to us, in this strict embrace  
Thy virtues, bounties, envied courtesies;  
Thy courage, and thy constancy in death,  
Thy love and Loyalty to the end continued,  
More than their clamorous importunities  
Prevail with us: then as our best and greatest,  
Not to exceed, but equal thee in love,  
To end between us this Heroic strife,  
Accept what we most precious hold, thy Life.  Mar. 
Which as your gift I'll keep, till Heaven & Nature  
Confine it hence, and always it expose  
Unto your love and service; I never loved it,  
But since 'twas yours, and by your gift now mine.  King. 
I observe in thee  
The substance of all perfect Loyalty;  
In you save flattery, envy, hate, and pride  
Nothing, or ought to goodness that's allied;  
Resign those places that belong to him,  
Better than so borne noble, be unborn.  
Till you your hearts can fashion to your faces,  
We here suspend you from your styles and places.  Prince. 
A royal doom.  King. 
Once more from us receive  
Thy beauteous Bride, as we will hand our Queen:  
The Prince already is possessed of his.  
Nay Bonvile, as your Bridals were together,  
So follow in your rank, and by the style  
Of a Lord Baron, you are now no less  
If you dare take our word: Our Funerals thus  
we'll turn to feasting, and our blood to wines  
Of most choice taste pressed, from the purest Grape.  
Our noble martial, kinsman, and our friend,  
In our two virtues after times shall sing,  
A Loyal Subject, and a Royal King.    

The Epilogue to the Reader.  
THat this Play's old, 'tis true, but now if any  
Should for that cause despise it, we have many  
Reasons, both just and pregnant, to maintain  
Antiquity, and those too, not all vain.  
We know (and not long since) there was a time,  
Strong lines were not looked after, but if rhyme,  
O then 'twas excellent: who but believes,  
But Doublets with stuffed bellies and big sleeves,  
And those Trunk-hose, which now the age doth scorn,  
Were all in fashion, and with frequence worn;  
And what's now out of date, who is't can tell,  
But it may come in fashion, and suit well?  
With rigour therefore judge not, but with reason,  
Since what you read was fitted to that season.  
FINIS.