Tur. Beleve me, Sir. I have not seen an antycke more disguysed. A gallopps ore the newe plowde lands as fast As twere a comon hye way, yet no speeche Can make hym to forsake theym.

Eud. Nay, whats more, The beast he rydds on is not usuall, Tys neyther horsse nor asse, and yet a beast Nymble & fytt for burthen.

Char. Eudon, goe Bydd hym dismounte & as he loves hys life Presentlye come before us. I will knowe [Ex. Eudon. The ende of thys straunge purposse. Suer there must Some secrett hange uppon it! thyngs doone thus Are seldome jests, unlesse jests seryous.

Enter Eudon & Busse, leading in twoe lymes Byrtha & a Spaniell, hymselfe cladd all in nett.

O tys La Busse; I've founde hys stratagem.— Nowe, Sir, y'are wellcome; whence growes thys dysguyse?

Bus. Sir, from the fayre protectyon of your grace And satisfactyon of your vowe; which doone, Bouldlye I hope I may voutsafe to begge My fathers deare deliverance.

Char. Noble sonne, What wouldst thou doe hadst thou a noble father! But come, sir, synce you putt me to the test, Resolve the doute: your fathers pardoned When you shall meet me uppon no hye way.

Bus. Which even nowe I did: the fallowe lands, Newe plowed & tylld are free from passengers.

Char. Tys graunted; but your selfe, Sir, must not ryde Of horse nor mare nor asse, & yet the beast An usuall thynge for burthen.

Bus. Suche is myne, A Mule, that is the bastard breede betwyxte An asse & mare, & onlye fytt for labor.

Char. But, sir, you must be neyther cloathed nor naked.

Bus. Nor am I, myghtie Sir: thys pore thynne nett Nor leaves me nakt nor yet dothe cover me.

Char. You prettylie orereache me; but you must Bringe in your hand the faythfullst frend you challenge.

Bus. Thys is he, my faythfull trustye spanyell, The verye typpe & truthe of true affectyon.

Char. But with hym must be joynd your greatest enemye.

Bus. They are not farre assunder: a curst wife Is evermore mans worst aflyctyon, And shee that outgoes myne in bytternes May fryght the whole worlde.

Char. Come, y'are ingenyous, And I confes th'ast conquerd, thoughe I knowe Thy father houlds as much unworthynes As may excusse tyrranye in a prynce: Yet for thys goodnes & thys industrye, Th'example of the sweetest disposytion, For all th'offences yet reveald unto me I freelye pardon hym.

Bus. And you are good And like your selfe, a verye god[103] in pyttie.

Ber. And from thys mercye I will new create In me a spyrrytt full of humblenes.

Enter La Fue in gallantrye.

Fue. Roame there & uncover, gentyllmen. I that am myne owne gentyllman usher am the best gentyllman in Fraunce at thys present. Give place & avoyde these.

Bus. What meanes the peasant? syrha, are you madd?

Fue. Yes, and I were halfe nakt as you are. Roame I say!—O my sweete harte, I will [Offers to kisse Charli.] kysse thy whyte lipps in the syght of thys whole assemblye.

Char. Avaunte, I say! what meanes thys lunatycke.

Tur. Pore sott howe hees deceyvd! th'inchauntments vanyshed.— Syrha learne better manners.

Fue. How! syrha to my greatnes! I am not in case to carrye your tokens. Ould man, you had better manners when last I lefte you.—Come, sweete love, I will love thee without more intreatye. Let us withdrawe & in pryvate rumynat our selves together.

Char. Is there no whypps for knaves are impudent? Thys sawcynes will make your skynne [to] smarte.

Fue. Away, away! Y'are an ould man & should be wyse. I tell you I was not in love with you tyll you doated on me; to drawe me into a fooles paradysse[104] & there leave me is not an honest man's parte nor a good chrystyans.

Char. What kynde of madnes call you thys? for shame! Shall I be torturd with hym?

Tur. Tys but a rude grosse weaknes, which anon Ile shoe at full unto your majestie.

Fue. Come, sweete Charles, I knowe thou lovest me, & love will creepe where it cannot goe. Come, letts condole together.

Char. Yes, if I like your example. Goe presentlye And give him fortye lashes: make hym bleede Soundlye, away with hym!

Fue. Howe, howe, how! fortye lashes! so I shall bleede to deathe. Call you that soundlye? Foote! I am sicke with thought on't.

Char. Away with hym! And if a prate, see that you dooble them: Away!

Fue. Well I will never trust the wooeinge of a great man whylst I live agayne: & they be as false to weomen as to men they have sweete eeles to hould by.

Char. Yet has a leave to prate?

Tur. Away with hym, —But on your lives give hym no punyshment.

[Ex. Fue. & guard.

Char. I have not seene a madnes of thys nature: But let him smarte for't.—Eudon, give comand That Ganelon attend me presentlye. But, stay— What sollemp sound is thys? I am prevented.

[Dead marche.]—Funeral sounde. Enter Orlando, Reinaldo leading Ganelon, Oliver, Didier; two herses, one with Eldegr. & Gab., the other Richard.

The cause of thys?

Orl. O my most sacred lorde, I bring you here The worlds extreamest monster, suche a man Whose ills exceede the lawes inventyon. Fyrst looke on thys, the fayre & comelye braunche Of Aimons noble famylie; then on theise, His fayrest syster & hys dearest mother (O heaven that I should name that dreadfull name In such a case as murder!) all by hym And hys right hand, with thys ill mans advyse, Murderd unjustlye.

Rei. To which I adde Treasons of daunger & of hye disgrace Bothe to your crowne & person; and thoughe they Myght glutt the lawe, yet my brothers blood And theise twoe inocentts, I hope, will pleade Dyvorce of all repryvall.

Oli. Lastlye I With theys stronge proofs, cannot be argued of, Confyrme all past denyall; hys owne hand Here of thys pap[er] maks a regyster [Gives the letter. Of myscheives above wonder. Who reads thys, Thoughe flynte, must melt in pyttie.

Bus. Dye all my hopes, & in thys masse of shame Be buryed both my memorye & name. [Ex. La Busse.

Gan. What a lardge passage or cyrcompherence Theise prynces make to come unto the way Which lyes before theire nosses! tys lost wytt To seeke an engyne for the desperatt, Why, deathes in all he looks on; but to hope Saftye were more then dyetye[105] can promysse. Let it suffyce all's true, & thus I rest: If I dye once, not ever, I am blest.

Char. I am amazd: what I have reade & heard Tournes me like Gorgon into senclessnes. He speaks heare of a rynge, a wytchcraft rynge, By which I was inchaunted to hys syster. Where is that damned juell?

Tur. Here in my safe possessyon, thys is it, Which at her deathe, lodgd underneathe her tonge, I found by carefull searche. Good deare sir, keepe it And hencefourthe onlye love your royall selfe. The spell is past example, & hys synne Can onlye ballance downe the wyckednes.

Gan. Butt I confes it, & the sorcerrer That made it I did murder conynglye, And at her deathe had I recompast it, I had beene kynge of Fraunce. Thys noble knave Was pryvie to the passadge.

Did. Tys toe late Nowe to denye it: deathe never bryngs hys smarte But when a strycks gaynst lawe or gaynst desarte.

Char. Away with them, & see theym presentlye Broken uppon the wheele. [Ex. Gan. Did. & guard. Nephewe, for you I give you freelye here the realme of Spayne And all domynions in it; for your guarde Ten thousand of our best Frenche gentyllmen. And wishe your fortunes like your valure be The best of everye lived posterytie.

Orl. Sir[106], you doe bynde me to eternall servyce Bothe in your love & justyce, for we fynde Th'instructyons that on evyll men depends Is to compare theire projects with theire ends.

[Exe.

FINIS. [Greek: Telos]

Terminat hora diem, terminat Author opus.

Nella [Greek: ph d ph n r] la B.[107]