THE HECTOR OF GERMANY. OR The Palsgrave, Prime Elector.  
A New Play, an Honourable History.  
As it hath been publicly Acted at the Red-Bull, and as the Curtain, by a Company of young men of this City.  
¶ Made by W. SMITH: with new Additions.  
Historia vita temporis.  
Printed at London by Thomas Creed, for josias Harrison, and are to be sold in Pater-Noster-Row, at the Sign of the Golden Anchor. 1615.   

TO THE RIGHT WORshipful, the great Favourer of the Muses, Sir john Swinnerton Knight, sometimes Lord Mayor of this honourable City of London.  
sir  
Poesy is a divine gift, borne with many, without which donation no man can be a Poet, though he be Princeps doctorum; and have all the Languages (ad unguem.) Ovid found this inclination in himself, and that was the reason he said, Quicquid conabor dicere versus erit; where Nature speaks so forcibly in any, there is no suppressing it: For, Naturam expellas furca licet vsque recurrit, your wor. is so far from offering such violence, that you are known to be a great cherisher of the Muses. And I having received some favours from you, for private things, thought it might be acceptable, to give you some Honour in Print; So that this Play, entituled The Palsgrave, being made for Citizens, who acted it well; I deemed it fit to be Patronized by a Citizen. And not knowing any so worthy thereof as yourself, I made choice of your wor. to be my Maecenas: The kind acceptance whereof, will make me proceed farther in your praise. And as I have begun in a former Play, called the freeman's Honour, acted by the Now-servants of the king's Majesty, to dignify the worthy company of the Merchant Taylors, whereof you are a principal Ornament, I shall ere long, make choice of some subject to equal it. In the mean time, I leave the Palsgrave in your hand, as a pledge of my good meaning, & will rest▪  
Your wor. most duteous, W. Smith   

The Prologue.  
OUr Author for himself, this bade me say,  
Although the Palsgrave be the name of th' Play,  
'tis not that Prince, which in this Kingdom late,  
Married the Maiden-glory of our state:  
What Pen dares be so bold in this strict age,  
To bring him while he lives upon the Stage?  
And though he would, Authorities stern brow  
Such a presumptuous deed will not allow:  
And he must not offend Authority,  
'tis of a Palsgrave generous and high,  
Of an undaunted heart, an Hector's spirit,  
For his great valour, worthy royal merit;  
Whose fair achievements, and victorious glory,  
Is the main subject of our warlike Story.  
Mars governs here, his influence rules the day,  
And should by right be Prologue to the Play:  
But that besides the subject, Mercury  
Sent me to excuse our insufficiency.  
If you should ask us, being men of Trade,  
Wherefore the player's faculty we invade?  
Our answer is, No ambition to compare  
With any, in that quality held are;  
Nor with a thought for any grace you give  
To our weak action, by their course to live:  
But as in Camps, and Nurseries of Art,  
Learning and valour have assumed a part,  
In a cothurnal Scene their wits to try,  
Such is our purpose in this History.  
emperors have played, and their Associates to,  
Soldiers and Scholars; 'tis to speak and do.  
If Citizens come short of their high fame,  
Let Citizens bear with us for the name.  
And Gentlemen, we hope what is well meant,  
Will grace the weak deed for the good intent.  
Our best we promise with a dauntless cheek;  
And so we gain your love, 'tis all we seek. Exit.   

Palsgrave.  A Bed thrust out, the Palsgrave lying sick in it, the King of Bohemia, the Duke of Savoy, the marquis Brandenburgh, entering with him. A Letter. Palsgrave. 
Sick at this instant now to be infirm,  
When the English King hath his kind Letter sent:  
For me to place this honourable prince,  
The Duke of Savoy in the empire's rule:  
That Nation my great Grandfather did love.  
And since I came to understand their valour,  
I held them the Prime Soldiers of the world:  
And think no Martial Tutor fits a prince,  
But he that is a true borne Englishman.  
Ill comes this Letter, and your Grace at once,  
A worser time than this you could not choose.  
Though I am chief Elector of the seven,  
And a mere Caesar now the Chair is void:  
Sickness hath weakened all my powers so much,  
I shallbe slighted as a worthless thing.  Savoy. 
Why should the Palsgrave so mistrust his Friends?  Palgr: 
Savoy, because I know them factious.  
And though Bohemia love me as his life,  
And umpire-like, should pacify our jars,  
What is his voice when Saxon draws his sword?  
Mentz of a Clergyman is stout and proud,  
Trier his like, in nature and in vice.  
And the bold Bastard, late expulsed from Spain,  
Has a bloodthirsty heart, a vengeful spleen.  
Misfortune cannot daunt him though he fled  
Out of his own Realm, and has lost his Crown.  
His impudency yet aims at Caesar's Throne,  
I'd freely part with mine inheritance,  
If it could purchase health to tame his pride,  
But in you only I repose my trust.  
Reserve your voices for this Noble Duke,  
Who were I well should be an Emperor:  
Sickness will be obeyed, I must decline,  
For my speech fails me to urge more discourse,  
Pray for me all, if that they chance to win,  
And I recover I'll help all by War.  The Bed drawn in. Exit Palsgrave. Bohem. 
The strength of germany is sick in him,  
And should he die now in his prime of life,  
Like Troy we lose the Hector of our Age:  
For he alone, when he was strong and well,  
curbed all their pride, and kept the worst in awe.  Marquis 
We must expect war: & prepare ourselves  
With expedition to resist their force:  
For a more dangerous Foe for Treachery,  
Then is the Bastard, lives not in these parts.  Savoy. 
I am sorry, that presuming on the health  
Of the most valiant Palsgrave now fallen sick,  
I came so ill provided for the Wars.  Bohem. 
We are strong enough to meet them in the field  Enter the Bishop of Cullen. Cullen. 
Prepare for War, the Bastard is in arms,  
With him the fiery Saxon, Mentz, and Trier:  
And they'll besiege this Castle, to constrain  
The Palsgrave, to elect him Emperor.  Marquis 
Shame to us all, if we give aim to that.  Savoy. 
begirt this Castle, and disturb the health  
Of our dear friends, it is insufferable.  Bohem. 
Let us convey him lower down the river,  
Unto a stronger Castle of his own:  
And with such Forces as we have prepared,  
Give battle to the Bastard and his crew.  Savoy. 
You have a Caesar of your own Election,  
To lead the Vanguard, do but follow me,  
I'll guide you where the greatest danger dwells:  
And like an Emperor fright it from the field:  
The Bastards but a Coward; and a Spanyard,  
Coward and Spaniard oft-times go together.  
Their greatest valour does consist in Braves,  
And once repulsed, they'll run away like slaves.  Enter Prince Henry, the Bastard, the Duke of Saxon, The Bishop of Mentz, Drum, colours, & Soldiers. Bastard. 
This Land of germany yields valiant men,  
Haughty in heart as they in stature are:  
Ten thousand such had I been Leader of  
When the Blacke-Prince, lately my greatest Foe,  
Opposed me at Mazieres, and won the day,  
I had been Lord of that most noble Field,  
And where an Hermit now tells o'er his Beads,  
Had sat a Soldier and a Conqueror.  Saxon. 
That Hermit is too bookish to reign long.  Bastard. 
When th'imperial Sceptre fills my hand,  
And I have Caesar's wreath upon my brow,  
As had my Grandsire, and his royal Father,  
I'll make Iberia wreak with my foe's blood,  
And force the Dotard to his Hermitage.  Mentz. 
Such thoughts becomes the German Emperor,  
Has courage to wage War with all the world.  Saxon: 
Harry, a word in private in your ear,  
When you are Emperor, as in time you shall,  
I must rule all, although you wear the Crown:  
The Edicts I propose you must enact,  
And call them your own Laws, not being vexed  
At what I do, although I mince your honour.  Bastard. 
How Saxon?  Saxon. 
Harry, dar'st thou wreathe thy brow,  
In any contumelious form 'gainst me?  
'tis by my favour that thou art alive.  
My greater greatness has repaired thy fame,  
And being but my creature, it is fit  
I should be known to be the worthier man.  Bastard. 
Between ourselves in private.  Sax: 
Publicly, and in the view of all, you'll swear.  Bastard. 
I must.  
But being installed in the dignity,  
I'll alter what I swear.  Saxon. 
Come, Come, your Oath,  
Being an Elector, I am bar the only Throne,  
And therefore will rule by a Deputy.  Mentz. 
This is the Castle, shall we summon it?  Enter Trier, another Bishop. Trier. 
Emperor elect, and princes of the State,  
In vain you labour to begirt this hold  
With hostile Arms, for Savoy is i'th field,  
The Bishop of Cullen, and stout Brandenburg,  
With the Bohemian King, are already priest,  
To give you battle ere you stir your foot.  Bast. 
Are they so brave, so hot, & full of courage?  Sax. 
The Palsgrave has breathed spirit into them all.  
Though sickness make him droop, we'll meet them straight  
Battles are governed by the will of Fate.  An alarum. Enter to them Savoy, Bohem, marquess, and Cullen, They are beaten off by the Bastard's side, & exeunt. A Flourish, enter in triumph, Bastard, Saxon, Trier, Mentz, leading the king of Bohemia, Brandenburgh, and Savoy, Prisoners. Bast. 
So moves the Sun in glory through the sky,  
Having outpassed the clouds that shadow him.  Sax. 
Now Spanish Henry, thou hast proved thyself  
Worthy the German sceptre, by thy valour,  
And he that says not Ave Caesar, dies.  Bohem. 
Swell not too high thou bubble, lest thou  Bastard. 
I'll break thy heart first.  Savoy. 
Ere my tongue pronounce  
Ave to any that's my enemy;  
I'll bare my breast to meet thy conquering sword,  
And make it crimson with an emperors blood.  Bastard 
There must be but one Emperor, that's ourself,  
Therefore to prison with the counterfeit,  
Whence neither County Palatine, nor King,  
Shall with their Forces if they were conjoined,  
Have power to set thee free.  Saxon: 
For you my Lords, that are Electors like unto myself,  
Give but your free consents that he shall govern,  
And that shall serve as ransom for you all.  Marquis 
Never while life lasts.  Bohem. 
Or I breathe this air.  Mentz. 
Then let them share like fortune in his doom  
As they have done this happy day i'th' field.  Bastard. 
To prison with them all.  Saxon: 
Not till you are Crowned.  
That sight shall serve instead of a Tormentor,  
And I rejoice to vex mine enemy.  Bastard. 
Give us our rights.  The two Bishops, Mentz, & Trier, Crown the Bastard. Mentz. 
Rex Romanorum, & magnus Imperator GerVive Caesar.  Saxon: 
Vive Caesar.  Bastard. 
Enough those Vives, take away my life,  
In the delicious rapture of my soul,  
For there's no heaven methinks like royal thoughts,  
The Palsgrave's Castles razed unto the ground,  
And peace established, we mean once again  
To try our Fortune for the Realm of Spain.  Exeunt. Enter Peter the Hermit, King of Spain in a disguise. Peter. 
Since the decease of England's royal Son,  
That placed me lately in Spain's government,  
Those that did fear me for his valour's sake,  
Are by the trains and falsehood of my brother,  
Revolted from me, and to save my life  
I was constrained put on this disguise,  
To go to England for a new supply  
Of men and Soldiers would but weary them.  
I have therefore been in France, and failing there,  
Am come to germany, to implore the aid  
Of the Electors, but by ill success,  
Bohemia, Brandenburg, and Savoyes ta'en:  
The Bastard has bewitched the other Peers.  
So that my Foe is now an Emperor,  
And all the hope I have to get mine own  
Lies in the Palsgrave sick I hear to death,  
Hear I expect his answer to my Letter.  Enter the Palsgrave, led in by Cullen, and others. Palsgr. 
Are you the Hermit that did bring this letter?  Peter. 
And personate him that sent it.  Palsgrave. 
What Spain's King?  
Oh that I were as I was wont to be,  
Before this dangerous sickness was my Foe,  
No Christian King that came to me for aid  
But he should speed.  Peter. 
In time you may recover.  Palsgr. 
Mean time be welcome, sit, & take your rest,  
And now my Lord of Cullen I me prepared,  
To hear the woeful tidings you have brought.  
Comes noble Savoy, and Bohemia's King,  
With the stout marquis Brandenburg in triumph  
And is proud Saxon taken, with the Bastard,  
Trier and Mentz made subject to your sword?  
Oh if they bespeak it, and make me well.  Cullen. 
All's lost, We are conquered, Savoy is surprised,  
And our best Friends in bondage to our Foes:  
Heaven has forgot the justice of our cause.  
And only I escaped to tell the news.  Palsg: 
This were enough to kill some man in health,  
But in me the effect is contrary.  
All lost, all conquered, Savoy made a Slave:  
My Friends in prison, and none escaped but you,  
He that can hear such ill news and be sick,  
Deserves near to recover, in my blood,  
I feel an inflammation of revenge:  
There's greater strength gathered into my nerves,  
Then ere before, since that I grew infirm:  
They will not rest thus, and stay only there,  
But having conquered them, assume the Crown,  
And make the Bastard Emperor.  Cullen. 
He is Crowned.  Palsg. 
More blood increases, & some more ill news  
Would make me cast my Nightcap on the ground,  
And call my Groom to fetch me a war-horse,  
That I may ride before an Army royal,  
And pluck the Crown from off the Bastard's head,  
That is another's right.  Cullen. 
'tis thought my Lord,  
Your Castle which you left to save your life  
Is beaten to the ground, and your goods theirs:  
And further, that they will pursue you hither,  
As if you fled before their conquering swords.  Palsgr. 
Be sick who will, mine Ague does retire.  
And Cullen thou hast cured me with ill news.  
Come valiant Soldiers show yourselves like men,  
And be assured we'll win the victory.  
Hark how they shout as they applauded me:  
And see how bravely every Leader rides,  
Plumed from the Beaver to the Saddle bow,  
Whilst the bold Soldier makes his lofty pike  
Stretch in the Air with tossing it aloft.  
Bravely done fellow: that trick once again,  
And there's gold for thy pains, he fights like Hector.  
Whilst at his feet th'amazed Grecians fall,  
And though Achilles would renew the Field,  
He dares not do't, the enemies so strong,  
methinks I hear a peal of Ordinance play,  
They are the Bastard's Cannons, planted high,  
To overthrow my Castle to the ground.  
Now they shoot off, Death, all my foes are come.  
Marshal my Troops, and let Drum answer Drum.  
myself in person will be general.  
But I faint, and am not what I would be.  
My spirit is stronger than my feeble limbs,  
Lead me once more with grief unto my bed,  
Few know the sorrows of a troubled head.  Manent Cullen, & Peter. Exit Palsgrave led in. Cullen. 
How fain would valour sickness overcome?  
But his infirmity denies such power.  
And I am more grieved for his weak estate,  
Then for our late great loss.  Peter. 
Palsgrave may help him.  
And as I lived a fellow amongst Hermits,  
I learned some skill that has cured many a Prince.  
See him safe guarded from his enemies.  
And on my life I will recover him.  Cullen. 
we are strong enough to waste him to his Fleet,  
And when the Enemy shall miss him here,  
They'll turn their conquering Force another way,  
And go for Spain.  Peter. 
My Kingdom.  Cullen. 
To subdue it.  Peter. 
Let them proceed, but when he has got his strength, they'll rue their boldness; Mean time trust to me. For next to Heaven I'll cure his malady.  Enter old Fitzwaters, and his Steward. Exeunt. Old Fitz: 
Thou art his hand, the agent of his thoughts,  
And only enginer, by which he works  
Some dangerous plot to blow his Honour up:  
Is't possible my Son should be from Court  
So often, and the cause unknown to thee,  
That art his bosom-friend, his counsellor?  Stew. 
I know no cause except to take the air.  Old Fyth. 
My wrath shall find another in thy breast.  
Know that thou treadest on thy last foot of earth,  
From whence is no remove, but to the grave:  
Fly me thou canst not, and to make resistance,  
Will draw upon thee for one lions rage,  
All the whole den. Offers to kill him.  Stew. 
Hold, and I'll tell your Honour.  
Know that his usual haunt is to the house  
Of the Lord Clynton, whither he is gone  
To see his Daughter, whom he does affect.  Old. 
Dotes he on my betrothed, my Love, my wife?  
Had he the lives of many hopeful sons  
Incorporate with his own, my rate is such  
I should destroy them all, ere lose my Love.  
But how does she affect him?  Stew. 
As her life:  
Alleging, that the Contract made to you,  
Was by constraint to please her honoured Father:  
But he was precontracted, first made sure.  
And this I heard her speak, with pearled tears;  
Then Love, no passion ought to be more free,  
Nor any agreement like that sympathy.  Old Fyth. 
I have put on Deianeira's poisoned shirt  
In the discourse, and every word cleaves to me  
As deadly in the apprehension,  
As that which killed the jew-borne Hercules.  
But wherefore do I combat with myself,  
That have a greater enemy to curb?  
Oh, but he is my son! What is a son?  
The effect of a sweet minute, he shall die,  
Being my pleasure to effect my pleasure:  
Attend me where he is, I may destroy him.  Exeunt. Enter a Page. Page. 
I have a sweet Office, to be Gentleman Porter to a back door; but 'tis for a Lady, the best beauty in England: and if there be any Pandering in the business, though I am accessary i'the fee, because I live by it, I have no knowledge in the fault. Many a Courtier would be glad of my place, yet I hold it not by patent, for term of life, nor for years: but as young Gentlemen get Venison upon sufferance or by stealth. If the Lord Clynton should have notice of this Key or evidence, by which the young Lord Fitzwaters is conveyed to his Daughter against his will, though she be his Wife by a precontract, I might be conveyed to the porters-lodge. But if all Court-secrets come to light, what will become of the Farthingales think you that cover them? No, since Ladies wear whalebones, many have been swallowed, and so may this. Here comes the Young Lord.  Enter Young Fythwaters. Y. Fyt. 
Always at hand, thy carefulness is great: Where is thy Lady?  Pag. 
Walking in the Garden.  Y. Fyt. 
So early, than I see loves the best lark;  
For the Corn builder has not warbled yet  
His mornings Carol to the rising Sun.  
There's for thy pains.  Page. 
I thank your Lordship. And now like the Keeper of a prison, having my fee, 'tis fit I should turn the Key. You know the way to my Lady's chamber.  Y. Fyth. 
I do. Exit Young Fythwaters.  Page. 
Sure liberality was a lover, or he would near be so bountiful: some think it a chargeable thing to keep a Woman of any eminent fashion, and so 'tis, but to keep them as I do under lock and key, and suffer none to enter but such liberal Gentlemen, is the only way to make a rich Keeper. I must walk still to watch his coming forth. Enter old Fythwaters and Steward.  O. Fyth. 
You have been with the Lord Clynton?  Stew. 
And he promised to meet you in the Garden covertly.  O. Fyth. 
Is this the place?  Stew. 
And this is the ladies Page that lets him in.  Page. 
Help, help.  Stop his mouth. O. Fyt. 
If you bellow here, you breathe your last; by ways,  
Back doors, come sir along with me.  
If that her father meet, as I desire,  
What's but a spark, will prove a mount of fire.  
Lock the door after us.  Steward. 
My Lord I will. Exeunt all.  Enter in the Garden, Floramell the Lord clynton's Daughter, and Young Fythwaters. They sit on a bank. Flo. 
The delian Lute is not more Musical  
Than thy sweet voice, Oh my Apollo speak,  
That with the rapture of thy words, my soul  
May be entranced, and wish no other joys:  
That by the discord of two Broken harps,  
(Old and unfit for lovers harmony)  
Our joys should suffer a distaste of fear;  
And in our most delights a qualm of grief  
Run like a vain of Lead through a Gold-mine.  Old Fyth-waters and the Lord Clynton some behind, and overhear them. Flo. 
We grow too jealous of our prosperous days,  
Making an evil, where no ill is meant:  
Like hallowed ground, love sanctifies this place,  
And will not suffer danger to intrude.  
Here we are ringed in earthly Paradise,  
And may have all the heaven to ourselves:  
Be then Mistrust an exile from my breast,  
Where lives no jealousy, dwells present rest.  Clyn. 
But we'll disturb it, & your amorous joys.  Y. Fyt. 
Our Father's present; Sweet, we are betrayed.  O. Fyt. 
Betrayed to death: why do you hold my Sword?  
There's greater fury kindled in my breast,  
Then can be quenched by any thing but blood:  
I shall turn frantic if you brand the Sea  
Of my displeasure in such narrow bounds,  
And with a Deluge, equal to the first,  
That overspread the world, swell up so high,  
Till not a Mountain overlook the stream,  
Nor heaven be seen for Rivers of the Land.  Y. Fyt. 
If I could fear the waving of a Sword,  
Mine enemies had frighted me ere now;  
But I'm invaluable, like my mind,  
Not to be wounded but with darts of love;  
And I as little estimate a Father  
In these Pathaires, as he esteems my grief.  
There's no priority in loves high Court  
Granted unto the Father's 'fore the Son;  
But like the purest government of all,  
Every man's mind is his own Monarchy:  
Where reason near set foot to make a law,  
Shall common sense keep one, that were absurd.  O. Fyt. 
Wouldst fight with me?  Y. Fyt. 
Not if you will forbear me;  
But in a war defensive I will stand  
Against an Army of my Ancestors,  
Did their enfranchised souls break ope their tombs,  
And reassumed their bodies as they lived,  
In their full pride and youthful jollity.  O. Fy. 
Let Ravens perch upon these blossomed trees,  
Night Owls their stations in this Garden keep,  
And every ominous portance draw near:  
For here I'll offer unto Hecate,  
A hellish sacrifice in a sons blood.  Clyn. 
I feel an Earthquake in my trembling flesh,  
And my well boding Gems bids me draw  
A sword of vengeance on this hasty Lord,  
Ere suffer him to be a parricide.  O. Fyth. 
Will the Lord Clynton buckler out my foe?  Clyn. 
No, but restrain you from a wilful murder.  Flo. 
And like the best oblation for your wrath,  
Lo, I the subject of this variance fall  
prostrate on my knee, to suffer death,  
Ere such a rude act, most unfather-like,  
Be put in practice on so good a son.  O. Fyth. 
Good to deceive me.  Y. Eyth. 
The deceit is yours.  O. Fyth. 
Forswear him, and I shall rest satisfied.  Flora. 
Never.  Y. Fyth. 
Nor I.  O. Fyth. 
Give way.  Y. Fyth. 
I need no buckler.  Clyn. 
I stand not here to offend, but to defend  
Your lives and honour 'gainst so vile and act  
Would blur the conqueror's fame perpetually,  
Making your swords the furies firebrands,  
Bathed so unnaturally in other's blood.  
Where neither Honour, nor Religion springs,  
'tis better far such combats be unsought:  
I know your pleas, her father has my grant,  
You her affection got against my will:  
The place whereon you stand is our own ground,  
And here 'tis fit I arbitrate the cause.  
'mongst reasonable men peace is held good:  
None love dissension, but they thirst for blood.  O. Fyt. 
Counsel prevails, I am glad he is not slain.  Y. Fyt. 
I live with joy, that I'm no Father-killer.  Clyn. 
Will you subscribe to what we shall enjoin?  Old Fyth. & Y. Fyt. 
We do.  Clyn. 
In brief 'tis this. You must forbear my house,  
And never more be seen within my gates.  Y. Fyt. 
This is extreme.  O. Fyt. 
I have a heavier doom,  
Which on my curse I charge thee to observe:  
Which is, That instantly thou leave the Land,  
And trouble me no more to get her love.  Y. Fyt. 
How am I crossed!  Flor. 
How is my heart tormented!  Y. Fyt. 
Yet I have all the world to traffic in,  
Except in England, and your honours house:  
But as the dissolution of the soul  
From such a body as desires to love,  
Is burdensome and grievous to the man;  
Such is my heart dissevered from my Love.  Flo. 
And such is mine to lose thy company.  Y. fit 
You are cruel to impose a curse upon me,  
That sentence is extreme, I feel it work.  
More deadly on my grieved faculties,  
Then to have died upon my father's sword:  
For now mine own woes must destroy myself.  
And that's a murder worse than parricide. Exit Y. Fyt.  Flora. 
My knife shall end me.  Old Fyth. 
Hold thy desperate hand,  
Wouldst make our Nuptials prove a Tragedy?  Flo. 
I would, and be inhumed within the ground,  
Rather than measure out a hated bed.  Clyn. 
Never regard the passions of a woman,  
They are wily creatures, and have learned this wit,  
Where they love most, best to dissemble it.  O. Fyt. 
If that prove so, my heart will be the lighter.  Manet Steward. Exeunt. Stew. 
I have done an act will make me odious  
To all succeeding times, betrayed my friend:  
But here he comes, I'll stay and speak with him.  Enter young Fytzwaters. Y. Fyt. 
Careless of foes, of father, or his curse,  
Come I again to challenge Floramell,  
Which I suspect the Steward has betrayed.  Stew. 
Within my breast bathe a revengeful sword,  
Lo, I oppose it to your greatest wrath:  
Yet if you saw the counsels of my heart,  
There you may read, 'twas not I but fear  
That was the Author of your loves betraying;  
Your angry father threatened me with death,  
And I had no evasion but to tell it:  
But if your Lordship please to pardon me,  
I'll lay a plot to help you to your Love.  Y. Fyt. 
He that is once false, will be never true.  Stew. 
Then wherefore serves repentance?  Y. Fyt. 
Well, proceed.  Stew. 
Set down the place where I shall find your Honour,  
And if I bring not thither Floramell,  
At our next meeting take away my life.  Y. Fyt. 
Meet me at York house.  Stew. 
I'll be there ere long.  
I have done amiss, and will amend the wrong. Exeunt.  Enter old Fythwaters, Clynton, and a Bishop. Clyn. 
The Bride not up, and the Archbishop come,  
Some call her down.  O. Fyt. 
Welcome my reverend Lord.  
Do not you Bishops use sometimes to dream?  Bish. 
We have the same incitements of the blood  
That others have, and in our fantasies  
We see strange shapes, and divers things to follow.  Clyn. 
What was your dream tonight?  Bish. 
As I remember,  
Hymen was turned into a Mercury,  
And he's the Patron of all sly deceits.  
But what's my dream to your affairs my Lord?  O. Fyt. 
That such another dream I had last night:  
And if I should be cheated of my Bride,  
'twere a strange premonition.  Clyn. 
Fear it not, see where she comes.  Enter the Page, dressed in one of Floramell's Gowns, wearing a Mask. Floramell and the Steward above. O. Fyth. 
March forward to the Church.  Exeunt Lords and Page. Ste. 
So, whilst he takes your place, we are for York-house.  Flora. 
I come Fitzwaters flying.  Stew. 
Let's away.  Enter young Fythwaters. Y. Fy. 
The stay of my fair Mistress makes me wild,  
Sure I shall never more behold her face;  
The Steward's false, and Floramell may change.  
I'll therefore give a period to my grief,  
And in despair finish what life denies:  
Yet ere I die, let all the World this know,  
A Woman's love procured my overthrow.  Enter the Steward and Floramell. Y. Fith. 
My Floramell, to Sea. Exeunt.  Enter from Church, old Fythwaters, Clynton, Bishop, and the Page discovered. O. Fyth. 
Oh my distracted soul, this is extreme,  
Gulled with a Boy, dressed in your daughter's gown:  
This is a cross that patience cannot bear.  Clynton. 
Who was the cause of this, speak;  
Where's my Daughter?  Pvge 
Fled to your Son.  
The Steward laid the plot; What I have done  
Was for my Lady's sake.  Old Fitzw: 
That Steward is a Villain.  Clinton. 
Let's go seek him.  
Take several streets, but let your meeting be  
At the Waterside, lest they should flee to Sea.  Old Fi. 
To the water side; Lord Bishop keep the boy.  Exeunt Old Fitzwater and Clynton. Bishop. 
I will.  
My Dream is fallen out right, Hymen is changed  
Into a sly deceiving mercury:  
But 'tis most requisite, they that do wrong  
Should feel the penalty by suffering it.  
I witness can the Young lords precontract,  
Bad Fathers that infringe a holy act.  Exeunt. Enter King Edward disguised like a private man, a Lord with him. King. 
This day I think I promised the Lord Clinton  
To be his Guest.  Lord. 
It was my Liege this Day.  King. 
I have dismissed my Train to steal upon him,  
But what's the season all things are so quiet?  
A lords house at so great a Ceremony  
As is a Marriage, should be like a Court:  
Multitudes thronging up and down like waves;  
And the Gate kept with an Officious porter,  
To give kind entertainment to all Comers;  
Here's no such a matter.  Lord. 
Here Old Fitzwater: comes.  Enter Old Fitzwaters. O. Fyt. 
Some Pegasus has borne her from my sight  
For near a horse I keep can overtake them:  
By all conjectures they are gone to Sea,  
And Shipped by this.  King. 
His Bride.  Lord. 
Belike 'tis so.  O. Fyt. 
Some whirlwind follow them;  
And making the Ocean rougher than my brow,  
Ye dancing Porpoises caper aloft,  
And mud the white foam with your jetty backs;  
A perfect sign a tempest is at hand.  
Rise from the bottom of the deep ye Whales,  
And overturn the Ship that carries them:  
But let a Dolphin save my Floramell,  
And back unto the haven guide her safe.  
As for the boy, make him your watery prey,  
Eat him alive, that he may hear his bones  
Crash in the jaws of the Leviathan:  
But save his head for me to know him by,  
Author of all my grief and misery.  King. 
I'll interrupt his passion.  Lord. 
Stay my Liege.  
You shall hear more, here comes the other Father.  Enter Clynton. Clyn. 
How now my Lord, have you surprised your Bride?  Old. 
I think thy treachery conveyed her hence,  
And by thy means another was attired  
In her habiliments to vex me thus.  Clyn. 
You highly wrong me.  Old. 
I would right you better,  
Were I assured of your close treachery.  Clyn. 
Threaten me?  Old. 
With no more than I'll perform.  Clyn. 
Not in cold blood.  Old. 
No, but in blood like fire.  Clinton. 
In choler, passion and a crazed brain,  
But when you have slept upon your menaces,  
You will not then make good a noble challenge,  
And enter single combat like a Lord.  Old Fitz. 
There lie my gage I dare thee to the field,  
And will aver without the advice of sleep,  
That thou wert privy to the Steward's blot.  Clint. 
I'll take your gage, and meet you when you dare.  King. 
But we'll not suffer it, that love the lives  
Of every subject, much more of our Peers:  
And as for you Fitzwaters, that are grown  
Hotter than I expected from your age,  
Except you can produce good witnesses,  
That Clinton has deceived you of your Bride,  
I'll stay the combat or imprison you.  Fitz. 
I cannot prove it, but I think 'tis so.  King. 
Correct such thoughts, and give him back his gage.  Fitz. 
With all my heart.  (gives bake the gage. King. 
Clinton I am satisfied.  Enter a Messenger with a Letter which he offers to the King. King 
How now, what news bring you?  Messenger 
Letters my Liege from the Count Palatine  King. 
Our noble friend Bavaria's valiant Duke.  Messenger. 
From him my Liege.  King. 
we'll read them instantly.  The Contents of the Letter. 
All's lost, our elected friend Savoy taken prisoner, with him Bohemia, and Brandenburgh; sickness would not suffer me to wear Armour, but by the help of the Royal Hermit, Peter the King of Spain your friend and Beadsman I am recovered. The Bastard is made Emperor, and has shipped himself for Spain, whither I purpose to sail to hinder His intendments, If I survive the Battle, and be conqueror. I'll unfit you in England, except the Sea be my Sepulchre.  Your Friend in Arms, ROBERT the Palsgrave. 
Ill news, not suddenly to be amended,  
The Palsgrave's sickness was the greatest loss.  
The Bastard Crowned, uncrown him if thou canst,  
Thou that art matchless for thy Chivalry.  
Send but his head from Spain, to tread upon,  
And I should count it an valued gift.  
As for good Savoy, and his German Friends,  
Ere long I'll set them free, or make the soil  
That holds them prisoners a Marsh-ground for blood,  
Till I hear news from Spain of good success.  
Each day I live will be a year of grief.  Clynton. 
Pleaseth my Liege to lay aside your sorrow,  
And with your Royal person grace my house,  
Clynton will hold it an exceeding favour.  Old Fitzw. 
So will Fitzwater's gracious sovereign.  
And though this day look black with my disgrace,  
Your Royal presence whites an Ethiop's face.  King. 
I accept your kindness, & willbe your Guest.  Exeunt. Enter the Palsgrave; Cullen: and Peter the King of Spain, Drum, colours, and Soldiers. Palsg. 
Next unto heaven to you, we give the praise,  
Most zealous King for our recovery,  
And now my Lord of Cullen show yourself,  
As good a Soldier as a Clergy man.  
In stead of Beads now use a Martial sword.  
For here in Spain where the Black Prince encamped,  
And made the Bastard fly, our Tents are pitched,  
And the proud Foe comes with a Spleen enraged,  
To drive us from Mazieres; Harry shall know,  
As he has Kingly blood within his veins,  
And is a Caesar, he shall meet with Caesars.  Cullen. 
I hear their Drums.  Peter. 
And I rejoice to hear them,  Enter to them the Bastard, Saxon, Mentz, and Trier. Bastard. 
The Palsgrave here, now we shall have  
Your voice to our Election, or for that your life.  Saxon. 
You were sick in germany.  Palsgrave. 
But now recovered.  
And hither come to beat you out of Spain.  Trier. 
He bears himself, as he were sure to conquer.  Mentz. 
And looks more like a jove then like a man.  Palsgrave. 
I hold my thunder here, & my right arm  
Has vigour in it, when you feel my blows  
To give you cause to call them Thunderbolts,  
If there be any in this Martial troup  
That with a soldiers face, has a bold heart,  
And dares aver that this religious prince  
Is not the lawful and true King of Spain,  
I will make good his Title by the sword,  
And against that proud combatant oppose  
myself as challenger to fight for him.  Bastard. 
I dare take up your gage, and answer you.  
But that I should impair this days renown,  
By giving desperate men such means to die,  
Who for you know your Army weak, and few  
Would hazard that upon a single fight.  
Which in the Battle you are sure to lose,  
No Foxlike policy shall blind my sight,  
But that I'll see the ruin of you all.  
This day i'th' Field, thine Palsgrave and the rest,  
He combats well rips up an armies breast.  Saxon. 
I'll answer his proud challenge.  Bast. 
We forbid it, that are your Emperor, both in style  Saxon. 
In style, but not in power, that strength is mine,  
Except you'll be forsworn.  Bastard. 
This for an Oath,  
thouart but the step by which I did ascend,  
And being up, rest there till I descend.  Saxon. 
You'll answer this anon.  Bastard. 
Here, or elsewhere.  
Didst ever know a Caesar that could fear.  Saxon. 
I'll stab the Bastard.  Trier. 
Worthy Duke desist.  Stays him. Palsg: 
No Combat then will be accepted of.  Bastard. 
In general, with our powers in the open field,  
But not betwixt the Generals privately.  Palsgrave 
Then you are cowards all.  
I'll so proclaim you in my thundering Drums,  
And by the glories that I hope to win,  
Prove it this day to thy perpetual shame:  
But to a heartless foe words are but vain.  
Alarum Drum, that showers of blood may reign.  Exeunt omnes. Alarum, The Bastard's side beaten off. Enter in an excursion Bastard, Saxon, Mentz, and Trier. Bastard. 
It shall be treason to my Fame today,  
If I encounter any Foe i'th' field,  
Till I have combated this drunken Saxon.  Saxon. 
How Bastard, how?  Bast. 
Bastard!  Saxon. 
What else?  
Thou wert twice misbegotten, once in Nature,  
And secondly, in being any pride's default,  
By which thou art a Bastard Emperor.  Bastard. 
Stand from about me, or I'll strike you dead  Mentz. 
Remember where you are amongst your foes  
Who by your discord may destroy us all.  
And this advantage of your variance  
Gives them the victory with easiness.  
If not for your own Honours and your lives,  
Forbear for ours.  Trier. 
They shall not combat here:  
I'll make my Rotchet crimson like your Colours,  
Ere I stand by and suffer such a wrong.  Sax. 
How these brave Churchmen talk.  Bast. 
Are you in your Pulpits? Strikes the Bishops on their Targets, and fights with Saxon.  Enter Palsgrave, Peter, and Cullen, with Soldiers. Trier. 
Here's those will strike you.  Bast. 
What, the Palsgrave come?  Sax. 
Emperor be wise, & join thy force to mine,  
Till we have driven away the enemy,  
And then return to our old variance.  Ba. 
I am Saxons till the Palsgrave die or fly.  Pa. 
You should have fought still, 'twould have been my glory,  
To have given aim, & then the conqueror conquered:  
But what your variance leaves unfinish here,  
I'll end with the destruction of you both.  Bast. 
We fear you not.  Pals. 
Upon them valiant friends.  Charge upon them, and the Bastard taken Prisoner on the Stage, Saxon and the Bishops beaten off. 
Saxon is fled, Caesar my captive is,  
I must not lose him; guard the Emperor sure,  
Whilst I pursue the Duke.  Peter. 
We will.  Bast. 
Am I your prisoner?  Peter. 
Not so good, my slave.  Cullen. 
To trample on, or use as he likes best.  Bast. 
We are Brothers.  Peter. 
Now: but in your high estate,  
No greater enemy than you had I.  Cul. 
Best that we guide him to the Palsgrave's. Tent.  Enter Saxon with two swords, and meets them. Saxon. 
Although he be Ambitious, and my Foe,  
Honour commands me that I rescue him.  
That I may have the honour of his death.  
When we 〈◊〉 Masteries in a single fight.  Peter. 
'tis Saxon, Guard him sure.  Cullen. 
To our best power.  Saxon. 
No further, if you mean to save your lives.  
The palsgrave's slain, his blood reek on my sword,  
And I advise you for your own discharge,  
To give this valiant Emperor liberty.  Peter. 
Not whilst we live.  Saxon. 
Help to release yourself.  Saxon gives him a sword. Bastard. 
Most willingly.  They beats of Cullen the King of Spain, 
Thanks for your pains, but yet we will be Foes.  Saxon. 
To horse, to horse, and talk of that elsewhere.  Exeunt. Enter again Cullen and Peter. Peter. 
This was the most ill chance that ever happened.  Cullen. 
He said he had slain the Palsgrave,  Peter. 
'twas his cunning to astonish us with fear, but  
If he live, how shall we answer him for this mischance.  Cullen. 
See where he comes, I would the storm were passed.  Enter Palsgrave. Palsgrave. 
I lost him in the press, his snowy steed  
Was crimsoned over with the blood of men,  
And lion-like he fought with all his strength,  
But since the Emperor is my prisoner,  
I shall die less regard the Duke's escape.  Peter. 
Oh Noble Sir, we have deceived your trust,  
And lost the Jewel you had us keep.  
Caesar by Saxon is redeemed and fleed,  
And we 〈…〉 for his escape.  Palsgrave. 
When fortune is disposed? 〈…〉 a man.  
Valour and foresight are of no effect:  
Released by Saxon, and his Keepers live;  
You are not as I thought you, valiant men;  
But worse than these that run away for fear.  
He should have made passage through my heart,  
Ere scaped from me by Saxon or his plots:  
But now it is too late to follow him;  
And the whole Field is made a liquid Sea,  
Sink may they both into the crimson fen.  
But why should they sink, you deserve it best:  
From henceforth I'll near take a Spaniards part,  
Except he had a far more valiant heart,  Peter. 
Let my blood speak for me; fair words displease.  Palsg. 
Well, since I think 'twas weakness and not will,  
By which they are escaped, I calm my spleen,  
And rest content that we have won the field.  
After you are establish in your Throne,  
I'll sail to England to regreet the King:  
And then to Germany, where if we meet  
Bavaria's, air shall be his winding sheet.  
Retreat, retreat, and thank heaven for the day.  Enter Bastard, Saxon, Mentz, and Trier. Saxon. 
At your requests my Lords, I am contented  
To receive this Emperor into grace and favour.  Bast. 
He flouts me, would you have me suffer this?  
At their requests they have requested me  
To allay my spleen, and take thee into favour.  Mentz. 
They'll near be friends.  Trier. 
Let's leave them both to fight.  Bastard. 
Away.  Saxon. 
we'll force you else.  Mentz. 
We are a going.  Exeunt Bishops. Bast. 
So, now I will imagine that this ground  
Is all the Empire that my greatness sways:  
And that the heads of many rebel Subjects  
Are placed on thee; that striking off thy head,  
I cut off half a Nation at a blow.  Sax. 
And I the Emperors of a Nation.  Fight, and Saxon is down. 
Why dost not kill me, since 'tis in thy power?  Bast. 
Thou savedst my life, for that I'll set the free.  Sax. 
Caesar, thou art a Noble enemy;  
Henceforth I vow to relinquish every ill  
That may displease thee, and obey thy will.  Bast. 
Such be my conquests over those I love.  As they embrace, Enter Trier and Cullen. Mentz. 
So, they are friends, they have fought away their anger.  Sax. 
Has conquered me with courtesy and valour.  Men. 
Then now to counsel how we shall proceed  
In this most dangerous war against the Palsgrave,  
Who as I hear by firm intelligence.  
Means with his Fleet to touch the English Shore,  
And draw the valiant Edward to his part.  Bast. 
If such a day come, 'twill be black to us:  
For of all Nations in the world, I hate  
To deal with Englishmen they conquer so.  Saxon. 
Follow his example and let's get a King  
To take our part, as well as they have done:  
France has been wasted by their cruelty,  
And cannot but in spleen desire revenge,  
Were he solicited to be our friend,  
We should with the more ease be conquerors.  Mentz. 
Send thither.  Trier. 
Or fail thither.  Bast. 
That's the best:  
But shall we only build our hopes on strength;  
I think 'twere good to piece the lions skin  
Where it too short falls, with the fox's skin,  
A couple of Protean villains I have ready,  
For any dangerous attempt in peace,  
And they can poison, stab, and lie in wait  
Like Serpents, to entrap and cease their prey,  
Mendoza and Vandome, those are the men:  
Let them be called in.  Mentz. 
They are hear, great Caesar.  Enter Vandome and Mendoza. Van. 
Most mighty Emperor, what's your Highness will?  Bast. 
That unto England presently you sail,  
And there consort you with the Earl of Artoyes,  
A Frenchman borne, but one that loves us well;  
Let him and you send us intelligence  
Of the proceedings of the English King,  
With the haughty Palsgrave, give the Earl this Letter,  
By which ye may win credit in his trust:  
And ere't be long I will devise a plot,  
Which you shall manage, for the general good.  
Be careful; as you do respect our love,  
And hope for gold in showers, mean time take this.  Mend. 
Your will shall be obeyed.  Vand. 
It shall be done.  Sax. 
Great jove can say no more:  
That State thrives best that has such Slaves in store.  Bast. 
See our Fleet ready: and ye swelling gales,  
That blow the good hours, fill our empty sails.  Exeunt. Enter the King the Queen, and Poytieres. F. King. 
My Lord of Poitiers, as you are informed,  
Where means the Emperor and his train to land?  Poyt. 
Here at this 〈◊〉 of Bulloyne, & the news  
Is certain that his Mightiness is near.  Qu. 
How angry has the heavens as been with the sea,  
That it hath boiled so much, and cast the sands  
Into such mountains that they overlook  
The bounds that held them in.  F. King. 
Well may our friends  
Escape the danger of this heavy storm:  
Small gusts at Land, sink a whole Fleet at sea;  
And whilst our Cities keep us from their rage,  
The Rocks bear them, as Tennis-Courts do balls.  
I'd have an Atheist travel through the deep,  
And he shall see such wonders, that his soul  
Would make him soon believe there is a God.  
But what fair Gentle woman have we here,  
Which is a shipwrecked creature, comes ashore?  Enter Floramell. Flo. 
All wet and weary with a boisterous storm,  
At last I have set my foot upon the Land;  
I tremble as a Fever shook my joints,  
But 'tis the Ocean that has frozen me:  
Drop there thou moisture of a swelling Flood.  
And let me see, no Fisherman at hand,  
To tell me in what Coast I am arrived:  
Alas I see none, I shall die with cold.  Q. Poitiers. 
Speak to her, give the woman comfort.  Poyt. 
How is it with pretty Gentlewoman?  Flor. 
Sir, I am very cold, and wet, and ill,  
Would you could help me to a little fire  
To dry myself, and I would pray for you.  Poyt. 
'tis now no time to reason of your state:  
Here take my Cloak. A taffeta Cloak.  Flora. 
Alas Sir, 'tis but thin,  
And makes 〈◊〉 the more to 〈…〉  
I would be shifted into warmer Roads,  
If I could meet with some kind Gentlewoman.  Qu. 
Make use of me, you shall not want for help.  Flo. 
You seem to be of a Majestic state,  
What should a poor distressed Gentlewoman,  
Trouble a person of such eminence?  F. King. 
Thy state wants present pity, women take it  Flo. 
I have seen a King ere now,  
And by your Diadem you should be one:  
Pray, rather let me die then trouble you.  Qu. 
'tis perfect charity to help the poor:  
Yet by these jewels, you should bear a place,  
If not amongst the Royal, with the Noble.  Flo. 
Indeed I am but a poor Gentlewoman,  
Punished for wearing jewels in a storm:  
But I have lost a husband whom I loved,  
For marrying whom, I have endured this cross;  
And now his friends, if they should find me out,  
Would finish what the storm has left undone.  Queen. 
His name?  Flo. 
'twas Infortunio, as mine is,  
With the alteration of a letter only.  Quee. 
Good Infortuna go along with me,  
I'll find some help for this thy misery.  Flo. 
May the Sea never use you of this fashion;  
I take your courtesy, and will attend.  Exeunt Queen and Floramell. F.K. 
Young, fair, and lovely, is she not Poitiers?  Poyt. 
She is a comely, and a sweet Gentlewoman.  F. King. 
In my opinion she's the fairest creature  
Nature ere made.  Poyt. 
In love my gracious Liege?  (strange. F.K. 
What and my Queen alive, that would seem strange.  Poyt. 
Love does regard no person, nor the time.  F. King. 
Love is a power will overrule a King.  Poyt. 
Finding her honest, though of mean estate,  
You may do well to raise poor virtue up,  
And marry her to some great Nobleman.  F. K. 
I'll think of that hereafter: now, the news?  Enter Queen. Qu. 
The Emperor and the Electors are arrived.  Enter Bast ard, Saxon, Mentz, and Trier. Bast. 
Health to the Majesty and Seat of France.  F. King. 
As welcome hither is your Mightiness,  
As if you were arrived in Germany.  Bast. 
I thank King john.  F. King. 
Saxon, with Mentz, and Trier.  Saxon. 
We rest your loving friend for War.  Trier. 
For Counsel.  F. King. 
And Counsel is as great a friend as War.  Mentz. 
It hath prevailed as much.  Queen. 
Thrice welcome all.  Bast. 
The storm has kept us overlong at Sea:  
But Mighty King of France, worse storms than these  
Have and will shake us, if you help us not:  
All things go Backwards, that should bode us good;  
And he that is Conqueror already,  
The haughty palsgrave, is to England sailed,  
To join with Edward in our overthrow.  F.K. 
We have felt the valour of the English King,  
And of his son, the Black Prince now deceased:  
Witness Poitiers and Cressey, where our blood  
Royal, although it be saved to make clay  
Moist with the showers, and temper the dry earth:  
When I and all my sons were prisoners ta'en,  
And had to England to be wondered at:  
Ransomed although I was, it grieves me much  
I cannot do the like unto my foe.  Sa. 
Let your French Soldiers join themselves with ours,  
And we'll invade his Kingdom.  Bast. 
And constrain him & the Palsgrave to the like disgrace.  Me. 
Fortune was never steadfast unto any.  
But like the Ocean that bounds in the Land,  
Both ebbs and flows according to the Moon.  Quee. 
But if I might advise your Majesty,  
By former losses you should be more wise,  
Then hazard France again to the like snoyle:  
Edward is fortunate in all his wars;  
And wise men will not strive against the streams  
Therefore be circumspect, and keep your own.  F.K. 
This theme our counsel shall at large discuss,  
Till when, to England we'll embassage send,  
To advise King Edward not to be our foe,  
Left it offend us, that are friends to both:  
If the Dove speed not, we'll the Serpent prove.  Sax. 
And win by craft, what may not be by love.  
Who shall have that employment?  Bast. 
Not your Honour, because your spirit is rough and turbulent.  F.K. 
No, if I might entreat these reverend Bishops,  
By them I would direct this Embassy:  
Since it concerns them, it behooves they stir,  
Who know the sweets, will cause no war.  Trier. 
we'll undertake it, if the Emperor please.  Bast. 
When I send thither, it shall be in thunder:  
Yet as the French King orders it proceed.  F. K. 
You know your charge, be mild, but yet not base,  
Though we give ground, we will not lose our place.  Manet Saxon. Exeunt. Saxon. 
even now a bold conceit hath entered me,  
And that's to visit England in disguise:  
As well to further our conspiracy  
Against the Palsgrave and King Edward's life,  
As to survey the Country, and observe  
What haven's best to entertain a Fleet:  
The English Nation with my soul I hate,  
And would do any thing to win the State. Exit.  Enter Edward, Clynton, old Fytzwaters, the Palsgrave, Cullen, and others. King. 
Not possible my Lords to find those men?  
Are they so wily to deceive us all?  
Sure they are harboured by some near about,  
That does affect the English Diadem:  
He's worse than mad would aim at England's Crown,  
Though the Black Prince be dead, so many sons  
I have left to govern, which mars their rule.  
Edward himself has left a hopeful heir,  
The Princely Richard to inherit it.  
Plots yet, tricks yet, well we must hope the best.  Pals. 
I rather think the ill was aimed at me,  
Because I came to move your Majesty.  
For the deposing of the Emperor:  
And it is known the Bastard is my foe,  
Witness the Wars in Germany and Spain:  
Treason by him is evermore in act,  
His brain coins faster than the English Mint;  
Treacherous proceedings, gold has many friends:  
And he must be a man of excellent virtue  
Whom it corrupts not. howsoe'er, I am sorry  
The Sailors did escape.  Clyn. 
Here are their cases. 2. sailors canvas Suits.  
Under the which I think were better clothes,  
And for their Steeds, thought could not be more quick,  
Or we had took them.  O. Fytz. 
They were swift indeed.  King. 
As swiftly with their flight vanish our fears.  
And now most Noble Palsgrave of the Rhine,  
Think yourself welcome to the English Court:  
And reverend Cullen.  Cullen. 
I do thank your Grace.  King. 
Your Father loved me well, and for his sake,  
As well as for your own, I'll honour you:  
And after feasting we will try your force  
In friendly manner at a Tournament,  
Which as I think, you have prepared my Lords.  O. F. 
We have my Liege, & the most youthful blood  
That the Court yields will show their Chivalry,  
In honour of Bavaria's Royal Duke.  Palsg. 
Let him sit fast that shall contend with me,  
Or I shall shake him, be he near so Royal:  
I show no favour when I am in Arms,  
Nor look for any from my Opposites.  
But Tournaments are revels made for sport,  
And he runs well, that gets a good report.  King: 
we'll try your valour, & perchance run with you.  
Lead on. Exeunt.  Enter the Earl of Artoise. Artoise. 
The discontented English like to me,  
Hates all delight, I and the Court itself:  
To lead a private life, where they may plot  
Revenge on those that are their opposites;  
Not many years past, who but I esteemed,  
King Edward has upon my shoulder leaned,  
And thanked me in mine ear many a time,  
For making France his, I betrayed Valois  
My sovereign King, in England to get grace:  
And now I looked to be a Duke at least:  
Artoise is slighted as a thing forgot,  
But I have sent my Attendant to the Court,  
And if he speed not, I shall prove as false  
Edward to thee, as to my Native French.  Enter a Servant. Servant. 
The King is not at leisure  
To listen to your suit; All his thoughts now  
Are taken up to give the Palsgrave grace,  
Who is come to Court, and means to tourney there  Art. 
Treason run with them, or some dángerous plot,  
Take life and being to destroy them both;  
Must my affairs give place unto a Palgrave?  
'twas I that quartered with the English lions,  
The Arms of France, in opening Edward's Title,  
Which but for me had in oblivion slept,  
Than I was as the Palsgrave in his breast,  
My sight his food, my saying his heart's rest.  
Who's that, that knocks look forth, & bring us word?  Seru. 
A couple of gentlemen would speak with you.  Arto. 
Let them come in, were they a pair of mischiefs,  
They are welcome now. For I have thoughts like Held,  
Black and confused.  Enter Vandome and Mendozze. Seru. 
These are the Gentlemen.  Vandome. 
Our business is to you most noble Artoise,  
The Emperor does salute you in this Letter,  
And prays you by the Honour of an Earl,  
You fail not to conjoin your aid with ours,  
About some plot against his Enemies.  Artoise. 
The Letter speaks the words, but names no plot.  Mendo: 
'tis not devised as yet, but ere lóg great Caesar.  
Will set it down, and send it to us all.  
Now as his Mightiness desires is this,  
That you give shelter to us while we stay  
For his Affairs in England, and your pénsion  
Which every year you have received from him,  
Shall from henceforth be doubled with his love.  Artoise. 
Caesar is gracious, and has my heart:  
But were not you the Servants that attended  
On the last Emperor that was made away,  
And helped to send him to a timeless grave?  Vandome. 
We were my Lord.  Artoise. 
Let me embrace you in mine arms for that.  Mendo: 
But that ill speed followed our hopes today,  
We had given a period to King Edward's life,  
And to the Palsgrave's.  Vandome: 
we attempted it.  
Habited like Sailors, but our pistols failed,  
And after long pursuit, our Robes thrown off,  
We escaped with life.  Mendozze. 
And come to live with you.  Artoise. 
Live here as safe as in a Fort of brass.  
Such men I wished for to a fit my spleen,  
Unto one mark all our affections tend.  
And they both die if that the Emperor send.  Exeunt. The Trumpets sound within as at a Tournament: A great shout. Enter old Fytzwaters and Clynton. O. Fytz. 
Did you ere see a better Tournament,  
Or braver Runners than this day appeared  
In the Tiltyard?  Clyn. 
The best that ere I saw.  
What a brave Horse the Palsgrave rid upon,  
And with what courage, nimbleness, and strength,  
Did he unhorse his valiant opposites?  
Spears flew in splinters, half the way to heaven,  
And none that ran against him kept this saddle,  
Except the King, and he demeaned him well:  
It joys my soul, that he has yet in store  
Such manly vigour; and the people's hearts  
Were not a little glad.  O. Fytz. 
Here they come all.  Enter King Edward, Palsgrave, Cullen, and others. King. 
I fear you are overwearied with our sports,  
To speak the truth. I feel them troublesome,  
Whether it be by discontinuance or age, I know not,  
But my breath grows short.  Pals. 
What Oak is ever strong? age makes jove's tree,  
The fairest King, and Emperor of the wood,  
To bend itself, and bow his lofty arms  
Downwards unto the earth that softened it.  
No cedar grows straight till his latest day:  
As there's a weakness in their springing up,  
So is there in their declination.  
The middle age the luffy does express,  
And there flows vigour, like a sea of strength,  
Able to bear down what doth stand the stream:  
Such is mine now, but as my years do flow,  
Like Oaks and Cedars they must straight bow low.  King. 
Sit by our side, and wear a Caesar's wreath.  A Wreath of Laurel. Palsgr. 
Victorious Edward keep it as your right,  
And let it mingle with your Royal Crown,  
That have deserved it in a field of war,  
Not as 'tis mine, given for a Tournament.  King. 
It is our gift, and you shall wear it still,  
Bring forth the other honour we intend  
Unto this thrice renowned Gentleman.  Enter an Herald, with a fair Cushion, and the Garter upon it. Herald. 
My gracious Liege here is the Garter ready.  King. 
Which to the Palsgrave we command you bear,  
Garter and Herald here presents your Honour  
With the Order of the Garter, whence he takes  
His Office and his Name, by our Decree:  
This is a favour which no Foreign Prince  
Ever enjoyed yet, but the time may come  
When Kings in seeking it may be installed,  
It was my Institution, and is worn  
By none but the most Noble, and those few  
Hereafter I will tell your Excellence  
The Motive why the Order was devised':  
Mean time his hand shall clasp it to your Leg,  
For 'tis a custom which you must not break.  Palsgrave 
Your Highness honours me exceedingly.  King. 
You are now my Fellow-Knight, and you must swear,  
To fight for Ladies, & their Fames preserve,  
But that we leave to Deputation,  
It shall suffice now, say on, pass your word.  
My Word and Oath, so please your Majesty,  
The Motto, as I read it was in French,  
Honey, soit qui Mal y:  
Ill be his meed makes goodness an offence:  
Or, Evil be to him that evil thinks.  
I have learned the sense, the Order I will keep  
Inviolate, by Hand and by my Sword;  
And hope in time it shall as famous prove,  
As that of Malta or jerusalem's.  Clinton. 
The Bishops, Mentz, & Trier, sent from France,  
By the French King desire to be admitted.  
With them associate comes the bold Poitiers,  
But as I think he's no Ambassador.  King. 
Give them admittance.  
We could not wish for a more brave assembly,  
Then at this instant to give Audience.  Enter Mentz and Trier, and Saxon disguised like a Frenchman. Mentz. 
Because the matter does concern ourselves  
Most mighty King of England, we have taken  
This Embassy in hand, not sent by Caesar,  
But from your Neighbour, the great King of France:  
Who by us first entreats, after enjoins  
You take good heed how you the Palsgrave aid,  
For that he says, and will maintain as much,  
It were unjust now Caesar to depose,  
Who by his valour, if all Titles fail,  
Merits the honour of an Emperor.  Trier. 
And that he is peerless for his mind,  
And haughty resolution through the world,  
That none so well as he deserves the style,  
And being invested in the dignity,  
'twere a dishonour great and Capital,  
Now to constrain him to a lower place:  
Which if you seek, he'll shield from such disgrace.  King. 
Has France forgot our former victories,  
That his Commission is so peremptory?  
Or is it but the Stratagem of Caesar.  
To blind us with the Name of the French King?  
And john of France be ignorant of this,  
Before we answer your proud Embassy,  
we'll send Ambassadors to know the truth:  
And if we be deceived by a trick,  
Caesar shall know he has dishonoured us.  Saxon. 
I am a Frenchman, and a Peer of France,  
My name Poitiers, but no Ambassador.  
Yet by the Honours that my sword hath won,  
King john of France delivered what they spoke.  King. 
Being no Ambassador, why came you hither  
To be a Spy, and to survey my Land?  Saxon 
A Spy, one of my blood without disguise,  
Being the first Revealer of myself,  
How can this hold King Edward to be true?  
I use no Intelligence but with my sword:  
Nor seek for other corners then deep wounds.  
So if I come by any great man's heart  
In honourable difference I survey it.  Palsgrave. 
At whose heart aim you now, that you are come?  
To justify an Embassage against me?  Saxon. 
I say who wears the German Diadem  
Deserves it better than the best that's here;  
Or any whom the English King, or thou  
For private reasons wouldst prefer to wear it,  
And that it is not honour prompts you to it;  
But secret pride, to have a person govern,  
Which Palsgrave, thou mightst rule ambitiously.  Palsgrave 
Thou foul-mouthed slanderer eat thy proud words up,  
Wherewith thou hast aspersed me; or my fury  
Shall make thee curse this boldfaced impudence.  Saxon. 
Come, Come, you cannot do it.  Palsgrave. 
Cannot.  Saxon. 
Nor dare. I'll stand the fury of thy proudest shock,  
Not fearing danger in so slight a Foe:  
Should I put off these Masks, my wounds would fright,  
And these wide mouths which I have got in war  
Not half healed up, pronounce it in thy blood.  
Thou art too weak to enter Arms with me.  Palsgrave. 
Since mildness cannot temper your stern wrath,  
But that your spleen must vomit upon me.  
I'll teach you Sir to have your tongue locked up.  
By taking off your lock. Pulls off his lock.  Saxon. 
My hair torn off. They part them.  Palsgr. 
Who have we here? This is the haughty Saxon.  Saxon. 
Grant me the combat Edward, of this Palsgrave.  King. 
He is a prince himself, & knows his power.  Palsgrave. 
Now by the honour of my Father's house,  
Saxon I'll meet thee in the Realm of France,  
In the king's Court, or place where thou wert borne,  
So I may have good Hostage, and fair play.  Saxon. 
Now by my gage thou shalt. (His glove.  Palsgrave 
This shall suffice.  
I have your lock to me a better pledge.  Saxon. 
I would I had thy head to countervail it.  
A whirlwind be thy guide, and a rough Sea  
Plague thee before thou comest for my hairs loss,  
Hell & some Devil was author of this cross Exit Saxon.  King. 
You have paid him soundly and deservedly.  
But now to answer you in brief, 'tis thus,  
The Palsgrave and ourself will see the King  
With expedition, where (if he make good  
The proud Injunction you have charged us with,  
We will lay waste his Country, and once more  
Put France in hazard of a sound loss.  Palsgrave. 
This Saxons brave, gives courage to us all.  
But I'll requite it with a German brawl.  Enter Saxon, Artoise, Vandome, and Mendoza, Trier, and Cullen. Sax. 
You are the cause next to disgrace the Palsgrave  
For which I came. The Emperor greets you well,  
And would have noble Artoise lend his hand,  
Both to cut off Bavaria and the King.  Artoise. 
Where?  Mentz. 
Here in England.  Trier. 
Or what place you will.  Vandome. 
France is the safer for the Stratagem.  Mendoz. 
And Edward is determined to sail thither.  Saxon. 
In France then give it birth.  
Where if it sail I'll be the Palsgrave's death. Exeunt.  Enter French King solus. F. King. 
The care of Kingdoms is a weighty charge  
So is the care of children. But loves care  
Exceeds them all: That dries the blood of life  
More than the Fever, though they burn like Fire:  
And to submit it to the law of reason,  
Makes reason folly, and discourse a Fool.  
Then irresistible all ruling power  
Revel in young men's hearts, and leave the old,  
Or meddle with inferiors, not with Kings;  
We should be privileged, because most high,  
But what's a King unto a Deity?  Enter Floramell, with a Napkin, and a cup of Wine. Floramell. 
Your Majesty called for a cup of wine.  F. King. 
I did fair creature, & I thank your pains.  
But when I view the colour of your lip.  
And look on this, the wine methinks looks pale:  
You have a better luster in your eye,  
Than any sparkle that can rise from hence:  
The silver whiteness that adorns thy neck,  
Sullies the plate, and makes the Napkin black.  
Thy looking well, makes all things else look foul,  
Being so fair in body, what's thy soul?  Floram. 
My soul and body are the gift of heaven,  
And I will use them to my maker's praise:  
If other service (great King) you require,  
I am ready, attend your hearts desire.  F. King. 
I think sweet creature, what thy tongue has uttered  
Is distant many paces from thy heart.  
My heart's desire, 'tis not in bending low,  
After the officious custom of a Court:  
Nor lies it in the use of common things,  
To bring and take away; my heart's desire  
Is to enjoy thee in another sort,  
Which if thou yield unto, thou shalt be great,  
Greatest in France, next, nay before my Queen:  
For I'll find means to to take away her life,  
So I may have thee as a second wife.  Flora. 
The Saint of France forbid it, & all powers,  
That have continued both so long together  
In sacred rites of Marriage, heaven deny  
I should be Author of her Tragedy:  
Or give content where murder is opposed.  
If I should yield, and your Queen made away,  
Might you not use me so another day?  
'tis fearful building upon any sin,  
One mischief entered, brings another in:  
The second pulls a third, the third draws more,  
And they for all the rest set ope the door:  
Till custom take away the judging sense,  
That to offend we think it no offence.  
Wherefore my Lord, kill mischief while 'tis small,  
So by degrees you may destroy it all.  F. King. 
Divine is thy discourse, like to thy beauty.  Flo. 
Does not Idolatrize, beauties a flower,  
Which springs and withers almost in an hour:  
Sickness impairs it, but death kills it quite,  
It vades as fast as shadows in the night.  
Why should your Grace call it Divinity?  
There's nought divine, but that which cannot die.  
lest I offend by staying here too long,  
I'll take my leave, and so curb in my tongue.  F. King 
Speak still, I'll hear thee. (Exit Floramell.  Flor. 
To our Sex 'tis bar,  
We should be twice seen, ere we be once heard.  F. K. 
she'll never yield! why do I woo her then?  
Because I cannot bridle my desires,  
Nor sleep, nor eat, but as I dream of her:  
she's to me as my Genius, or my soul,  
And more than they, because she governs them.  
Some way I'll take, my freedom to recover:  
That there's no physic made to cure a Lover!  Enter the French Queen. Queen. 
My Lord.  F. King. 
My Love.  Queen. 
Yes.  F. King. 
Infortuna.  Queen. 
How! Infortuna?  F. K. 
I mistook thy name:  
Yet now I think on't, I had busy thoughts  
How I might raise that Virgin to some Honour,  
And match her with some worthy Peer of France.  Qu. 
yourself my Lord in some Adulterate kind.  F. K. 
Nay then you wrong me, I meant virtuously;  
Believe me Sweet I did, I love thee so,  
No evil thought should make me wrong thy bed,  
By this it shall not, this, and this, my Love. Kisses her.  Queen. 
You flatter me.  F. K. 
I love thee as I should:  
What, we have lived together twenty years,  
And never wronged each other, should I now  
Be the first causer of the marriage breach?  
Banish such thoughts, let all mistrust begone.  
If she grow jealous, I am twice undone. Exit. F. King.  Quee. 
I'll have about with her, to find out all.  
Within there. Enter Floramell.  Flo. 
madam.  Queen. 
What Medea was't,  
Of whom you learned the Art of Sorcery,  
To enchant a King, and draw him to your bed?  
Think you, because you are my Maid of Honour,  
I'll honour you so far, to have my Lord,  
Thou shameless Callet? 'tis ingratitude,  
Into my husband's heart so to intrude.  
I could have helped thee to a wealthy choice,  
Had you spared mine; but now it cannot be,  
For I must hate thee for thy treachery.  Flo. 
I am accused, that ought to be excused,  
And blamed as one unchaste, for being chaste.  
I enchant the King, and use Medea's Art?  
Witchcraft I have always hated with my heart:  
And except Modesty a Circe be,  
I know no other kind of Sorcery.  
Your Highness sent me with a Cup of Wine  
Unto the King, the occasion of his wooing;  
Was it my fault to do your highness will?  
Judge gracious Majesty but as you ought,  
And do not blame me for a virgin's trial:  
His love was answered with a strong denial;  
And so denied for ever shall he be,  
That seeks by such means to dishonour me.  
Before I wrong a Queen so truly kind,  
I'll mar my face, and make my sad eyes blind.  Queen. 
In. Exit Floramell.  
we'll consider farther of your tears:  
I'll have her watched, if she proves false, she dies;  
But if continue constant to the end,  
Never had Lady a more Royal friend. Exit.  Enter young Fitzwaters aloft. Y. Fytz. 
Since I was cast upon this fatal Rock,  
And saw my Love dissevered by the waves,  
And my kind Steward in the Ocean drowned,  
Here I have lived, fed only with raw Fish,  
Such as the Sea yields: and each Ship I see,  
(As daily there are some furrow this way)  
I call unto for aid, but near the near.  
Once asked me, What I was? I answered him,  
An Englishman. Quoth he, Stay there and starve.  
To the next that passed, I said I was a french-born.  
I'll aid no French quoth he. Unto a third,  
That I a Spaniard was. He bade me hang:  
So that I know not what I ought to say,  
Nor whom to speak to: but in happy time,  
From this high Rock, I see a tall Ship come,  
Furnished with all his Sails; and as it ploughs  
The Ocean up, it raises hills of snow,  
That fly on both sides as they did give way,  
To make a valley for the Ship to pass.  
Their Captain as I think looks upon me,  
And has took notice of my waving hand.  
Now the Ship turns and this way ploughs amain,  
As if it meant to run itself aground:  
In happy time, now I shall be relieved.  Enter Saxon, Artoise, Mentz, Vandome, and Mendoza. Saxon. 
'twas hereabouts the Gallant beckoned me,  
He seems a person of some eminence,  
By the glittering of his Suit against the Sun,  
Cast Anchor here, and let us question him.  Men. 
Yonder he stands, mounted upon the rock.  Sax. 
The very same. What art thou, what's they name?  
Thy place of birth, fortune, and parentage,  
That thou art left upon this desolate shore?  
And what requirest thou stranger at our hands?  Y. Eytz. 
As you are men, and therefore may be crossed,  
Be favourable to a wretched man:  
Know, that the Sea has cast me on this place,  
Where I have led a discontented life,  
Ere since the last storm, and no passenger  
Has taken pity to remove me hence.  
Though food I want not, cause the sea yields fish,  
I would be shifted to a better place.  
My name's Fitzwaters, by my birth a Lord:  
My natural residence in England was,  
Some of your company I have often seen,  
Set me a-land where dwell inhabitants,  
And thankfully I will require your love.  Artoy. 
'tis young Fytzwaters, pray sir take him in.  Sax. 
You know my li●●● 〈◊〉 all Englishmen.  
Since my disgrace, and shall I pity him?  Ment. 
But he's descended of a Noble house.  Sax. 
The more should I rejoice to see him die.  Trier. 
Has valour.  Sax. 
Let him use it on the Rocks.  Vand. 
But every enemy bears not your mind,  
Some have been favourable to their foes.  Mend. 
And 'tis an honour in an enemy  
To save where he may kill.  Y. Fytz. 
Your answer there?  Sax. 
You speak as you'd compel it.  Y. Fytz. 
In the honourable intercourse of men  
I should do so, and were you in my case,  
You would enforce your own necessity.  Sa. 
What would this Stranger be in prosperous state,  
That bears so high a mind in his distress?  Y. Fytz. 
I would be as thou art, proud of nothing.  Sax. 
Is a Ship nothing?  Y. Fytz. 
As it anchors here  
It bears a goodly show; but launched again,  
And a storm rise, it may be cast a-land  
As I have been: nay worse, it may may be sunk,  
And then what is't, but a fair something, nothing?  
What is, and now is not; man's life, or a dream,  
Now swimming, and then swallowed in the stream.  Sax. 
His words are piercing, some go take him in:  
Come down, and be received into our Boat.  Art. 
That shall be my charge. Exit Artoise.  Sax. 
Could we draw this spirit  
Into our plot, he'd help to manage it  
Unto the life, and I should take it better  
Than yet I do.  Vand. 
Persuasion may corrupt.  Ment. 
But be adjusted how you persuade him to it.  Trier. 
And take his Oath at first for sacrifice,  Vand. 
We are no puny politicians,  
To be instructed in the rules of evil;  
Here comes Fitzwaters.  Enter young Fytzwaters and Artoise. Sax. 
Your hand.  Y. Fytz. 
And sword but that the Sea devoured it.  Sax. 
Know sir, we have business of import in hand,  
Wherein our purpose is to crave your aid,  
And as we sail to France we'll open it.  Y. Fyt. 
I am yours in all things that are honourable.  Sax. 
Honourable be not, your shall do what we list.  
Launch forth into the deep. Exeunt.  Enter King Edward, Palsgrave, old Fytzwaters, Clynton and Cullen, Drums, Colours, and Soldiers. King. 
We did not think to have footed the French ground  
A second time in such Hostility;  
But when the conquered bears so proud a head,  
'tis fit we make him stoop: yet least, the King  
Be not himself, or be abused by any,  
My Lord of Cullen, we entreat your pains  
To inquire it out by our Ambassador,  
as Mentz and Trier his assay that our force  
Might spoil his country, and make waste his land;  
But that with French blood we have surfeited,  
And therefore care not greatly to shed more.  
Say, We will meet him at an interview,  
There to discourse our griefs before we fight,  
Where if he have wronged me, he shall do me right.  Cullen. 
I shall delate your highness Embassy.  Pal. 
But say from me my sword near drunk French  
And therefore it is thirsty for their lives:  
That are I leave the Continent of France,  
Without good satisfaction from the King,  
None of his Cavaliers shall were a lock,  
I'll have them all cut off, and every year  
Be paid in such a tribute for my wrongs.  
As for proud Saxon, Say my word is kept,  
And bid him warily respect his own:  
The French king's Palace shall not save his life,  
Nor the best rampired Bulwark in the Land,  
Except he answer me as fits a Peer.  Cul. 
But to the Emperor, what's your will to him?  Pals. 
That as he run from Spain, he shall run hence,  
Or I shall make him a poor Emperor.  
His Bastard bravery tell him must go down,  
And the legitimate wear Caesar's Crown.  King. 
Fail not to utter every syllable  
Both of the Palsgrave's sending and our own.  Cul. 
I shall deliver both.  Pals. 
take't how they please,  
If they fly hence, we'll follow through the Seas.  Cullen. 
I go. Exit Cullen.  King. 
High is this Embassy, like to your valour,  
Which I admire, and love ardently;  
That I could wish your presence all my days,  
And think your company to me more sweet  
Than mine own Kingdom, or my Crown beside.  Pals. 
Your love and Royal presence I desire.  K. Clynton, 
and bold Fitzwaters, be it your charge,  
Provided well of our best ships and Soldiers,  
To sail to germany, and free our friends,  
Kept as we hear there with a slender guard,  
In a weak Castle.  Old Fitz. 
Which we'll soon beats down.  Passgr. 
And bring them hither.  Clinton. 
Or return no more.  King. 
March forwards to the place where we'll encamp  Exeunt. Enter Fitzwaters, Artoyse, Vandome, and Mendoza. Vand. 
What should the reason be of this dissension  
And why is young Fitzwaters froward thus?  Artoyse. 
His arguments are strong and forcible.  Mendoz. 
Single us hither to the forest side,  
Under pretence to plot more privately,  
And now not only to mislike! our drifts,  
But call us punies, and unskilful men,  
If shows a spleenful hatred to us all.  Y. Frytz. 
Not unto all, but only to you two:  
Why should the Earl and I borne a lord's son,  
join with a pair of base companions,  
In such a weighty cause as a king's death:  
I know you'll say you have been physicians,  
sailor, and Soldiers, and in such disguise,  
Done some exploit that have deserved respect,  
I grant as much, but yet your births are mean.  
No gentry in your blood was ever known  
By natural Heraldry, your low descents  
Disables us, and we must seek to rise,  
With others of our own condition.  Men. 
Come Vandome, of ourselves we'll do the deed  Y. Fitz. 
That were the engrossing of the same from us  
And so you would have all the thanks yourselves:  
Neither commixed with us, nor yet alone,  
Shall it be acted, but as we are the best  
In birth, and ability to do it,  
we'll have the privilege of doing it:  Vandome. 
And we should give it over.  Y. Fitz. 
To your betters.  
Or having fit place, Artoise and myself,  
Will kill you first, then cast you in the River.  Artoise. 
he speaks what we intend.  Mendozze. 
Intend your worse?  
Caesar has promised him the Palsgrave's place,  
And I shall be the marquis Brandenburg:  
Think you such Titles shallbe lost by fear.  
Our valour has been tried with worthy men,  
And ere we lose the glory of the Act,  
Vandome and I do mean to use you so.  Y. Fyth. 
They'll near be honest.  Vandome. 
Come Sir, are you ready?  Artoise. 
Most resolute villains, how they would outbrave us?  Y. Fyth. 
But noble Artoise, now the fire is given  
The Cannon must go off.  Artoise. 
Unto their deaths.  Fight. Y. Fyth and Artoise kill Vandoume, and Mendozza. 
So they are dead, and now the Fame remains  
Only to us, that will accomplish it.  Y. Ftyh. 
Only to me, that will perform't alone.  
Thinks Artoise those were slain cause they are base?  
Or that I wrought you to assist my plot,  
Because you are of the Nobility?  
No, I have still this Maxim in my thoughts,  
That a Competitor, though near so Noble,  
Takes away half the same in every thing:  
I could have opened this unto you all,  
But that I thought myself too weak for three:  
And therefore providently used thy strength,  
To kill them first, that I might slay thee after.  
Now they are dead, thy life must follow theirs,  
And so I share the honour to myself:  
I will be Palsgrave, marquis Brandenburg,  
And the Bohemian King in me alone,  
Caesar shall write himself three Friends in one.  Artoise. 
I do not think thou meanst to be a traitor.  Y. Fitz. 
Now you come near me, but that secrets mine,  
And seeking it you must dig through my heart,  
Or it will near be found, it lies so close.  Art: 
I'll know it, or a reason in your blood.  Y. Fytz: 
Wilt thou turn honest?  Artoise. 
Do not torture me,  
With repetition of that beggar's name:  
Whom none but Idiots, Innocents, or blocks  
Will entertain.  Y. Fytz. 
I would change your mind  
From this erroneous and ill boding thought,  
Because of late you freed me from the rock,  
But if it be so hurtful to your sight  
Be your own death, I'll not reveal my mind.  Arto. 
If that I cannot force it with my sword,  
I'll let it alone.  Fight, and kills Artoise. 
So lie together, three a pair Royal makes,  
And here's a pair Royal of excellent Villains;  
These have slain princes by their own confession,  
These made a Nation swim in her own blood,  
The stream is turned with you, 'tis now high flood:  
But I must cast you all into the River.  
Yea, swords and all, to clear me from suspect;  
Suspect? by whom this place yields no such eye,  
'tis well the worlds rid of their villainy. Exit.  Enter severally, the French king and Floramell. Floram. 
His Highness here, than Floramell give back.  F. King. 
'tis she, a word; there's no retiring hence.  
In vain you strive, my force opposed against yours,  
Will easily subdue your woman's strength,  
But there's a power included in your eye  
That conquers Kings, subdues a Deity.  
And he that had the strength to rule those graces,  
Might near be caught, yet view the brightest faces:  
One kiss, and I'll no more importune you.  Floram. 
On that condition, I will grant you one.  F. King. 
But you must give it me.  Floram. 
Dian forbid, that were immodesty.  F. King. 
It must be so.  Floram. 
Upon your Kingly Oath,  
Never hereafter to renew your suit.  F. King. 
Now by my crown I swear.  Floram. 
Take it.  F. King. 
'tis done:  
And with this kiss, a second Fire begun,  
More ardent are my thoughts now then before:  
I loved thee well, but now I love thee more.  
Thou shalt not leave me, but for ever dwell,  
Where I abide, thy absence is my hell.  Floram. 
Think on your Oath.  F. King. 
At lovers perjury, the Gods themselves do wink.  Flo. 
A king say so, pardon me sir, your will I'll not obey.  
But your oath broken mainly run a away. Exit Floram.  Enter the Queen, having heard their conference. Qu. 
So, so, so: This is the affection that you bear to me?  
Thinks the French King I'll not revenge this wrong?  
As I am Queen of France, I'll make her know,  
What 'tis to be corrival in my Love:  
She dies by Heaven.  F. King. 
If thou but spoil a hair,  
Or shed one drop of her celestial blood  
For any courtesy I have offered her,  
My wrath shall: as a fury haunt the deed.  
And I'll torment thee for such cruelty,  
Worse than the damned in the world below.  
I seldom threaten, but I do it straight,  
Her death thy Hell, look to't, 'tis a shrewd fate.  Exit King. F. Queen. 
He ever yet was sovereign of his word,  
What shall I do, brook this corrivalship?  
No, since I cannot in the Realm of France,  
Have the revenge my longing heart desires,  
Elsewhere I'll seek it, I of late behold  
An English Lord in favour at the Court,  
His Name Fitzwaters, and I love him well:  
By his procurement I will lay a plot,  
To yield King john unto his enemies,  
So to obtain my purpose, if it take  
however Fools may think to project ill,  
It likes me well, because I have my will.  Exit. Enter a Frenchman and an Englishman. Frenchman. 
What are you?  English: 
An Englishman & a traveler; what are you?  French: 
A Frenchman, and no traveler.  English: 
Then give way; For I am the better man.  French: 
The better man?  English: 
ay, the better man, by the perambulation of 2. or 3. thousand miles, I have seen the great Turk borrow Money, and never mind the repayment on't.  French: 
Peuh, is that all? we have a number of great Christians that will do so, and when a man comes to demand his own somewhat boldly, he shallbe committed to prison, or made a Fool, to stand waiting at the foredoor where the Coach stands, whiles the Lord steals out at the backdoor by water.  English: 
be't possible?  French: 
That our Tradesmen can tell, to their great hindrance, & I myself know this, that being in poverty, a Lord called me by my name thrice, but he would not remember it once, when he came to his Lands.  Englishman. 
The reason is, lest thou shouldst beg some of his New-living.  French: 
Nay rather for fear of paying the old score.  English: 
Sure thou art some Nobleman's bastard, thou canst tell their tricks so right.  French. 
And by some great woman: For I can tell you their tricks too.  English. 
As how?  French. 
Your only fine Lady is wantonness, & new Fashions, your citizens wife gallops after. But she is not so well horsed to overtake her.  English: 
Now we are in the discourse of women, What Countrywomen dost thou love best?  French: 
I love none.  English: 
I love all, and to kiss them after the fashion of all Nations.  Frenchm. 
Why I pray sir, do not all Nations kiss alike?  English: 
You are no traveler, and therefore I'll bear with your ignorance: but know this, your Spaniard, as he is proud, he kisses proudly, as if he scorned the touch of a Lady's lip; marry you Frenchmen draw it in, as if he would swallow her alive: Now the Italian has soon done with the upper parts, to be tickling of the lower: and we Englishmen can never take enough at both ends.  Frenchm: 
Is not your name Master do much?  English: 
It is, and yours (I think should be Monsieur do little.  Frenchman. 
we ere somewhat a kin in the first part of our names, and I pray heartily let us be better acquainted together.  English: 
You must do as I do then, and since we were both appointed, to wait here for the French Queens coming, let's take her gold, and forswear ourselves.  French: 
Here comes her Majesty.  Enter the Queen. Queen. 
Are you resolved to undergo this charge? 'tis but an Oath, which I will guild with Crowns, And bear you out against the Law.  Frenchm. 
I can do little being so animated, if I should not forswear myself, for so fair a Queen.  Englishm: 
And I'll do as much as your Majesty will have me do.  Queen. 
Take this in earnest, and when 'tis done, you shall have more.  Frenchman. 
we will.  Englishman. 
And from this time forwards, let us be forsworn brothers.  Frenchman. 
Content. Exeunt French. & English.  Queen. 
I'll instruct you: Here comes Fitzwaters.  Enter Young Fytzwaters. Y. Fytz. 
According to your majesties command,  
I come to know your pleasure for the Letter  
I should deliver to the English King,  
With that base strumpet that has Injured you.  Queen. 
There is the Letter, which I charge you bear unto King Edward, and assure his Grace I will perform what I have promised in't, I'll send the strumpet to you instantly. Exit Queen.  Y. Fyth. 
I know not by what influence I am fallen  
Into the affection of this potent Queen:  
But she has sworn she loves me as her soul:  
And to enjoy me in her amorous Bed,  
Would spend the revenues of the Crown of France  
Were it her own: I'll temporize with her,  
To effect some plot upon my sovereign's foes,  
But she shall know, Although she love me well,  
My heart's desires were drowned with Floramell.  Enter Floramell. Floramell. 
By all descriptions this should be the man,  
To whom I am directed by the Queen;  
But whom do I behold the young Fitzwaters?  Y. Fyth. 
'tis she, Oh no, she's in the Ocean drowned,  
No; She escaped it seems as well as I.  
But I will take no acquaintance of my Love,  
Till she has cleared her from the queen's suspect.  Floramell. 
It is not meet I take acquaintance first,  
Nor will I till I know a just cause why,  
Of his Familiar dealings with the Queen,  
Here is the key her Highness promised you.  Y. Fytz. 
And you the prisoner to be safe locked up,  
For your incontinence and wanton life.  Floramell. 
You do me wrong, I hate incontinence,  
Nor did I ever love a wanton life:  
I am a desolate Lady, shipwrecked here,  
And had a Husband once, too like thy looks,  
But not of such a rude condition.  
Oh were he present, and should hear thee speak  
Such boisterous terms against his honoured wife,  
He would out of the virtue of his mind  
Knowing my conversation to be good,  
Write this base slander in thy villains blood.  Y. Fytz. 
So confident, her innocence is great,  
That can do this sincerely without tricks:  
But if you be the same that you would seem,  
How comes that your reputations grown,  
Into such scandal, and your name the theme,  
Of every idle fellow in the Court?  
That Grooms report, fair Infortunate is:  
The French Kings love; Nay worse his concubine.  
The voice of men is held the voice of God:  
And where an evil is so far proclaimed,  
The generality approves the guilt,  
And she's unworthy to survive a minute,  
To be the separation of two hearts,  
Made one by Marriage.  Floramell. 
Kill me, kill me then.  
Having my sentence, wherefore am I spared?  
Or do you take delight to torture me?  
Before you serve the Executione  
The Law requires no more but death for Lust.  
The lingering is a note of Tyranny.  
It is sufficient that the wretch must die,  
The sooner done, the lesser cruelty.  
But if your conscience urge you to forbear,  
I shall confute your worthless Arguments,  
And tell you in the pureness of my soul,  
Report's a liar, common talk a Fool.  
Waiters & Grooms, lightheaded like their plumes,  
And those that do attend in princes' Courts,  
Too active and quick-witted to deprave  
A Courting they proclaim for a consent,  
A favour for the deed, believe them not:  
It is too common, this they hourly do,  
And think none chaste, but her whom none did woo,  Y. Fytz. 
But you did kiss the King.  Floramell. 
The Queen did see it,  
Urged by constraint, and Kingly violence.  
Upon condition he should woo no more:  
And for that kiss I am esteemed a whore:  
If you believe I am, I pray proceed,  
I kissed the King, do you a murderous deed.  Y. Fytz. 
Rise, rise, hereafter the discourse I'll tell,  
Mean time Fitzwaters welcomes Floramell.  Floramell. 
So then I am honest by your own confession,  
But ere I entertain you as a Husband,  
I'll be resolved what Love has passed between  
The Queen and you, that you her Agent are,  
In such a weighty cause as is my life.  Y. Fytz. 
Runs the stream this way, is the wind turned thus?  Floramell. 
I must know all.  Y. Fytz. 
In sight of Heaven I vow  
She is as chaste for any lust from me,  
As unborn Infants, and I use her love,  
But to advance my sovereign and his Realm.  
No other case by honour I protest,  
In sign whereof I oppose an innocent breast  
Against the sword: if you believe not, kill,  
But never man died for a lesser ill.  Floramel. 
I am satisfied, rise love, and let us go,  
There's no true joy without some taste of woe.  Exeunt. Enter French King, Bastard, Saxon, Trier, and Mentz, Queen. F. King. 
Prosperity I think was borne in France,  
'tis so obsequious unto all our act;  
And like a subject waits upon our will:  
Tomorrow is this happy interview,  
In which Fitzwaters and the Earl of Artoise,  
Have promised to surprise the English King,  
And the ambitious Palsgrave.  Bastard. 
If it take,  
We shall have cause to praise our happiness.  Saxon. 
Take, out of all surmise: and in my thoughts  
It is as good already as performed.  Trier. 
I think no less.  Mentz. 
It is most probable.  F. K. 
Where is the Queen she promised us a mask?  Queen. 
The Palsgrave.  F. K. 
Be jovial Caesar: mirth began the night:  
And we will end it with the like delight.  Enter King Edward, the Palsgrave and Y. Fitz, Floramell, Cullen, & divers Lords in the Mask, they dance there. F. King. 
We are beholding to you Gentlemen,  
For this your Courtship, pray discover now.  F. King. 
We will, and make you all die prisoners.  F.K. 
King Edward here?  Saxon. 
The Palsgrave.  Bastard. 
All our foes.  Mentz. 
Whose plot was this?  Trier. 
Or is it not a Dream?  Palsgrave. 
'tis such a Dream you'll never waken from?  
To talk of this strange admiration,  
Which like the night hovers on every eye:  
Know that I have deluded you with hopes  
Vain, like those villains, which my sword did kill,  
And by a Letter to the King delivered,  
Sent by your Queen, to be revenged for lust,  
I caused his Majesty to enter thus.  Queen. 
I received them in at the back Gate.  King. 
Where's the Lady that has wronged the Queen?  Y. Fytzw: 
Here is my troth-plight wife,  
Freer from that soul imputation,  
Then is her Majesty from jealousy.  King. 
Is she then chaste?  French King: 
I'll answer for the Virgin,  
By my good Fortunes once, now by my beard,  
She is as nobly virtuous of a stranger,  
As ere I knew, and though I sought her love,  
I near obtained it.  Queen. 
No, where is my witness?  King. 
Son, call them in.  Enter 〈…〉. Palsgrave. 
What can you swear?  French: 
What must he swear?  English: 
I'll swear that the Lady is a good Lady,  
The Queen a good Queen, there's an end of swearing.  King. 
Is this all?  English. 
And more than you should get of me, but that the Queen gave us gold to say something: but who have we here sirrah?  Frenchm. 
Players, by this light players: Oh I love a play with all my heart.  English. 
Begin, begin, we are set.  Sits on the Rails. French: 
That's a brave King.  English: 
That's a brave boy that plays the queen's part.  French: 
He shallbe my juggler.  English: 
And when the play's done, I'll be at charges  
To bid them all to supper.  Palsgrave. 
Away with them.  French: 
I am very sleepy.  English: 
Would I were a-bed,  Y. Fitz. 
I'll lead you thither.  English. 
God a mercy good chamberlain.  French. 
The play's done, and now we must go home. Farewell. Exeunt Fools.  Queen. 
But shall the stream turn, this way is my plot  
Become so weak? you will believe a Subject  
Before a Queen? I have outshot myself,  
In seeking justice at an enemy's hand:  
This is a cross beyond the strength of brain;  
Sure I shall end my days in Lunacy,  
Like one to whom due vengeance is denied,  
Because of weakness, on myself I'll turn  
The fury that should light upon my foe,  
Scatter my hair, like chaff before the wind,  
Hell in this world dwells in a jealous mind, Exit. Q.  Pals. 
Our reveling has struck day out of night,  
And bright Aurora ushers forth the Sun  
To his diurnal course; yet neither night,  
Day, nor the morning, with her flaring beams,  
Can stir up valour in this Saxons breast:  
What, is thy mind made captive with thy body?  
Or thinkst thou that I take advantages  
Where honour should be showed, I'm still myself  
Ready to give an answer to thy challenge  
As at the first, and if thou conquerst me,  
By my Achievements I will set thee free.  Sax. 
You show yourself in this a Noble foe,  
And I receive more honour than I hoped:  
I thought, because I was your prisoner,  
You had esteemed captivity a conquest.  
But since you have awaked sleeping valour,  
And given your Captive such a privilege?  
I am the same bold combatant to dare,  
And do as much as erst I did intend.  Palsgrave. 
Choose your own Weapons, and I'll meet you straight.  Saxon. 
My Armour there. Exeunt.  Enter Cullen. Cullen. 
Clinton and bold Fitzwaters are arrived,  
And bring with them released from servitude  
Brandenburg, Savoy, and Bohemia.  King. 
Guide them in.  Enter Old Fytzwaters, Clinton, Drum, and Cullens with Savoy, Brandenberg, and Bishops, with Soldiers. Old Fytzw: 
Those with ourselves, we humbly do present unto your Majesty.  Clinton. 
Such as our sword by a glorious victory set free.  King. 
When Heaven is pleased to give prosperity, How it flows in: welcome my honoured Friends: I am glad your thraldoms prove your liberty.  Savoy. 
The King of England has been always kind.  Bohem. 
I have ever found it so.  Brandenb: 
And so have I.  Old Fytzw: 
Whom do I fee? my Son that stole my Bride? As you respect my service (gracious King) Let me have justice.  Clint: 
Clinton kneels with him.  Y. Fytz. 
To their great service, greater I oppose,  
And do beseech your Highness wrong me not.  Old-Fyztw: 
Wrong thee?  Y. Fytzw: 
I wrong me, may not Kings do wrong? Or dare you think because you are my Father, I'll lose my wife.  Clinton. 
Daughter come from him, lest I force you hither.  Floramell. 
Father I may not.  Y. Fytz. 
Fathers both she shall not.  King. 
we'll hear no more of these bold menaces  
On pain of death I charge you both forbear:  
And let my censure sway this difference.  
In England as your house the Bishop told me  
That Clinton's Daughter by a precontract,  
Was young Fitzwaters wife, and that some trick  
Betwixt the Fathers to preserve their wealth,  
Broke off the match, to have him wed the old.  
This being true; I charge you on your lives  
Urge him no further in his lawful choice,  
But as 'twas wrong enough to hinder it,  
Make him amends, by being reconciled,  Y. Fytzw. 
Which I entreat upon a duteous knee.  Floramell. 
And so do I.  Old Fytzw. 
Rise, rise, I am friends with you both, and  
When my Anger's over you shall find me a kind Father.  Clinton. 
So shall you.  Y. Fytz. 
All let's are now removed, I am truly happy.  Cullen. 
The Combatants are ready.  King. 
Guide them in.  Enter severally Saxon and the Palsgrave Armed, and in their shirts, Drum & colours. Palsgr. 
Idle are words where we must use our swords,  
Yet that it may appear what minds we bear,  
Now we are marched into this dreadful Lists,  
Know that this day my Honour shall exceed.  
Or I lie breathless where I set my foot.  Saxon. 
Were thy breast Marble, & thy ribs of brass,  
Saxon will have the superiority,  
Or in this dreadful place, his life expires.  Palsgrave. 
Sound trumpets, & the destinies guide all.  Fight, and kills Saxon. Bastard. 
The Palsgrave is invincible I think.  F. King. 
Not to be overcome.  Mentz. 
Nor to be tamed by any.  F. King. 
Matchless, and far beyond the praise of words, are all thy actions, let me honour thee.  Palsgrave. 
Our Friends returned in safety cheers more  F. King. 
Caesar resign your Title unto Savoy, and Savoy, fit you up, whilst the doctors hear join all their hands to make thee Emperor.  Palsgrave 
〈◊〉 as the first.  Bohem. Trier. 
And to get your love,  
We will disgrace ourselves to honour him.  Bastard. 
Receive the Crown, but as he wears the same may it crush out his brains.  Palsgr. 
Long live and happily the 〈◊〉 Caesar.  Savoy. 
As happily as your kinded loves have made me.  
And long as please the Heavens.  Palsgrave. 
Your fare●●● rights shall be perfect ●● with State in germany, whither I make the Majesty of England, and all our Friends.  King. 
I'll bear you company.  Palsgrave 
Fair winds and prosperous to our several  
Realms, we wish and pray for, 'tis not our least good  
To be the Favourites of the waning Flood.  Exeunt. 
W. Smyth.  
FINIS.