Fred. Speech doth want modesty to set
her forth
In her true forme, base and contemptible;
The very hindes and peasants of the land
Will bee Corrivals with your excellence
If you espouse such a notorious Trull.
Albert. We shall have lust a virtue in
the Court,
The wayes of sinne be furthered by reward,
Panders and Parasites sit in the places
Of the wise Counsellors and hurry all.
Fred. Father, as you are princely in your
birth,
Famous in your estate, belov’d of all,
And (which ads greatest glory to your greatnesse,)
Esteemed[195] wise, shew not such open[196] folly
Such palpable, such grosse, such mountaine folly;
Be not the By-word of your neighbour Kings,
The scandall of your Subjects, and the triumph
Of Lenos, Macrios,[197] and the hatefull stewes.
Why speake you not, that are his brother friends,
You that doe weare the Liveries of time,
The silver cognizance of gravitie?
Shall none but young me schoole the reverent [sic]
old?
Birds teach the Dam, stars fill the glorious spheares
Of the all lightning Sunne? speake whilst you may,
Or this rash deede will make a fatall day.
Duke. You have said too much, encourage
none to speake
More then have spoke[n]; by my royall blood,
My mind’s establisht, not to be withstood.
Those that applaud my choyse give us your hands,
And helpe to tye these sacred nuptiall bands.
Hat. What likes your excellence, likes me well.
Alfred. And I agree to what my Soveraigne please.
Fred. These are no brothers, they are
flatterers,
Contrary to themselves in their owne speech.
You that doe love the honour of your Prince,
The care and long life of my father,
The hereditary right deriv’d to me,
Your countries Welfare, and your owne renowne,
Lend me your hands to plucke her from the throne.
Valen. Princes, forbeare, I doe not seeke
the match;
It is his highnesse pleasure I sit here,
And if he love me ’tis no fault of mine.
Behoves me to be thankefull to his Grace,
And strive in virtue to deserve this place.
Duke. Thou speak’st too mildly to these hare braind youthes. He that presumes to plucke her from the chaire Dyes in the attempt, this sword shall end all care.
Fred. Why, shee’s notorious.
Duke. But she will amend.
Fred. ’Tis too farre growne to have a happy end.
Duke. The dangerous the disease, greater’s the cure.
Fred. Princes may seeke renowne by wayes more sure, Shee is dishonest.
Duke. Honestie’s unseene; Shee’s faire, and therefore fit to be a Queene.
Fred. But vertue is to be preferd ere lust.
Duke. Those that are once false, shall we ne’re trust?