Slip. Because, sir, living by your wit as you do, shifting is your letters-patents: it were a hard matter for me to get my dinner that day wherein my master had not sold a dozen of devices, a case of cogs, and a suit of shifts,[264] in the morning. I speak this in your commendation, sir, and, I pray you, so take it.
Ateu. If I live, knave, I will be revenged. What gentleman would entertain a rascal thus to derogate from his honour? [Beats him.
Ida. My lord, why are you thus impatient?
Ateu. Not angry, Ida; but I teach this knave
How to behave himself among his betters.—
Behold, fair countess, to assure your stay,
I here present the signet of the king,
Who now by me, fair Ida, doth salute you:
And since in secret I have certain things
In his behalf, good madam, to impart,
I crave your daughter to discourse apart.
Count. of A. She shall in humble duty be addrest[265]
To do his highness' will in what she may.
Ida. Now, gentle sir, what would his grace with me?
Ateu. Fair, comely nymph, the beauty of your face,
Sufficient to bewitch the heavenly powers,
Hath wrought so much in him, that now of late
He finds himself made captive unto love;
And though his power and majesty require
A straight command before an humble suit,
Yet he his mightiness doth so abase
As to entreat your favour, honest maid.
Ida. Is he not married, sir, unto our queen?
Ateu. He is.
Ida. And are not they by God accurs'd,
That sever them whom he hath knit in one?
Ateu. They be: what then? we seek not to displace
The princess from her seat; but, since by love
The king is made your own, he is resolv'd
In private to accept your dalliance,
In spite of war, watch, or worldly eye.
Ida. O, how he talks, as if he should not die!
As if that God in justice once could wink
Upon that fault I am asham'd to think!
Ateu. Tut, mistress, man at first was born to err;
Women are all not formèd to be saints:
'Tis impious for to kill our native king,
Whom by a little favour we may save.
Ida. Better, than live unchaste, to lie in grave.
Ateu. He shall erect your state, and wed you well.
Ida. But can his warrant keep my soul from hell?
Ateu. He will enforce, if you resist his suit.
Ida. What tho?[266] The world may shame to him account,
To be a king of men and worldly pelf,
Yet hath no power to rule and guide himself.
Ateu. I know you, gentle lady, and the care
Both of your honour and his grace's health
Makes me confusèd in this dangerous state.
Ida. So counsel him, but soothe thou not his sin:
'Tis vain allurement that doth make him love:
I shame to hear, be you asham'd to move.
Count. of A. [aside]. I see my daughter grows impatient:
I fear me, he pretends some bad intent.
Ateu. Will you despise the king and scorn him so?
Ida. In all allegiance I will serve his grace,
But not in lust: O, how I blush to name it!
Ateu. [aside]. An endless work is this: how should I frame it?
[They discourse privately.
Slip. O, mistress, may I turn a word upon you?
Count. of A. Friend, what wilt thou?
Slip. O, what a happy gentlewoman be you truly! the world reports this of you, mistress, that a man can no sooner come to your house but the butler comes with a black-jack and says, "Welcome, friend, here's a cup of the best for you": verily, mistress, you are said to have the best ale in all Scotland.
Count. of A. Sirrah, go fetch him drink. [Servant brings drink]. How likest thou this?
Slip. Like it, mistress! why, this is quincy quarie, pepper de watchet, single goby, of all that ever I tasted! I'll prove in this ale and toast the compass of the whole world. First, this is the earth,—it lies in the middle, a fair brown toast, a goodly country for hungry teeth to dwell upon; next, this is the sea, a fair pool for a dry tongue to fish in: now come I, and, seeing the world is naught, I divide it thus; and, because the sea cannot stand without the earth, as Aristotle saith, I put them both into their first chaos, which is my belly: and so, mistress, you may see your ale is become a miracle.
Eust. A merry mate, madam, I promise you.