Ateu. Nought but truth O King,
Tis Ida is the mistresse of your heart, 340
Whose youth must take impression of affects,
For tender twigs will bowe, and milder mindes
Will yeeld to fancie be they followed well.
K. of S. What god art thou composde in humane shape,
Or bold Trophonius to decide our doubts,
How knowst thou this?
Ateu. Euen as I know the meanes,
To worke your graces freedome and your loue:
Had I the mind as many Courtiers haue,
To creepe into your bosome for your coyne, 350
And beg rewards for euery cap and knee,
I then would say, if that your grace would giue
This lease, this manor, or this pattent seald,
For this or that I would effect your loue:
But Ateukin is no Parasite O Prince,
I know your grace knowes schollers are but poore,
And therefore as I blush to beg a fee,
Your mightinesse is so magnificent
You cannot chuse but cast some gift apart,
To ease my bashfull need that cannot beg, 360
As for your loue, oh might I be imployd,
How faithfully would Ateukin compasse it:
But Princes rather trust a smoothing tongue,
Then men of Art that can accept the time.
K. of Scots. Ateu. If so thy name, for so thou saist,
Thine Art appeares in entrance of my loue:
And since I deeme thy wisedom matcht with truth,
I will exalt thee, and thy selfe alone
Shalt be the Agent to dissolue my griefe.
Sooth is, I loue, and Ida is my loue, 370
But my new marriage nips me neare, Ateukin:
For Dorithea may not brooke th’abuse.
Ateu. These lets are but as moaths against the sun,
Yet not so great, like dust before the winde:
Yet not so light. Tut pacifie your grace,
You haue the sword and scepter in your hand,
You are the King, the state depends on you:
Your will is law, say that the case were mine,
Were she my sister whom your highnesse loues,
She should consent, for that our liues, our goods, 380
Depend on you, and if your Queene repine,
Although my nature cannot brooke of blood,
And Schollers grieue to heare of murtherous deeds,
But if the Lambe should let the Lyons way,
By my aduise the Lambe should lose her life.
Thus am I bold to speake vnto your grace,
Who am too base to kisse your royall feete,
For I am poore, nor haue I land nor rent,
Nor countenance here in Court, but for my loue,
Your Grace shall find none such within the realme. 390
K. of S. Wilt thou effect my loue, shal she be mine?
Ateu. Ile gather Moly-rocus, and the earbes,
That heales the wounds of body and the minde,
Ile set out charmes and spels, nought else shalbe left,
To tame the wanton if she shall rebell,
Giue me but tokens of your highnesse trust.
K. of S.. Thou shalt haue gold, honor and wealth inough,
Winne my Loue, and I will make thee great.
Ateu. These words do make me rich most noble Prince,
I am more proude of them then any wealth, 400
Did not your grace suppose I flatter you,
Beleeue me I would boldly publish this:
Was neuer eye that saw a sweeter face,
Nor neuer eare that heard a deeper wit,
Oh God how I am rauisht in your woorth.
K. of S. Ateu. Follow me, loue must haue ease.