Char. O doe not feare; my bountye shall exceede
The power of thyne askynge; thou shalt treade
Uppon the heads of prynces. Bowe, you lords,
And fall before thys saynte I reverence.
Tur. Rich. Did. Honors to hym the emperor doth honor!
Fue. Aryse, my good subjects; onlye for that roauge there the first acte of my chronickle shalbe hys hanginge.
Did. O be not angrye with your humble servante: I ever did adore you,
Fue. Yes like the meales that thou hast devourd halfe chewd for greedynes. But revendge comes nowe gallopinge.
Char. Who hathe displeasd my dearest? name hys name, The verye breathe shall blast hym; onlye, sweete, Love me & have thy wishes.
Fue. Well, I am contented to love you; and why? For nothing but because you are an oulde man.
Char. Why, tys the onlye tye of faythfulines:
Age is the onlye object of the harte,
And by's experyence onlye hathe aspyrd
Toth heyght of all perfectyon.
Fue. True, for I'll stande too't an oulde man is able to see more, doe more, & comand more then any young man in Chrystendome.
Char. Prove it, my sweete; thou arte myne advocate.