Orl. Why, styll thou heapest uppon me newe misfortunes.
Did. But will delyver comforte. For some prooffe Of myne integrytie, knowe I was hyerd By Ganelon to poyson you.
Rei. Whatts thys?
Did. To which performance I so soothd hys hopes That he beleives tys doone.
Orl. And so it had,
But that my Fortune knewe my deathe woulde be
Toe greate a blessinge for me & remove
The object of her envye past her spleene.
What wretchednes is thys! haveinge indeede
All the worlds mysseryes that have a name,
A new one out of pyttie must be founde
To adde to infynitts. My heavy cursse,
But that't would be a blessynge, shoulde rewarde thee;
And for thy disobedyence to thy lorde
Ile torture thee, for I will wish thee well.
Did. Did ever mans preservatyon plauge [sic] hym thus? Wonder confounds me.
Rei. My most worthye cossen, Will you not take advantage of thys plott?
Orl. No; what advauntage? the emperour's eares are glewed Gaynst althyngs but hys passyons.
Did. Great Sir, no;
The vyolence of hys passyon notwithstandinge,
Havinge hys deathe-slayne mistres in hys armes,
He heares all causes criminall as if
She did but slumber by hym.
Oli. Tys an offerd meanes To bringe your foe in hatred with the emperour Revyve your hopes.