Gow.  Count it your fortune, honest man.  You would have revealed it to your woman at the next meeting.  You fleshmongers are all one feather. (Plucks out the dagger.) Go in peace and lay your death to Fortune’s door.  He’s sped—­thank Fortune!

Ferdinand.  Who knows not Fortune, glutted on easy thrones, Stealing from feasts as rare to coney-catch Privily in the hedgerows for a clown.  With that same cruel-lustful hand and eye, Those nails and wedges, that one hammer and lead, And the very gerb of long-stored lightning loosed.  Yesterday ’gainst some King.

The King.  I have pursued with prayers where my heart warns me My soul shall overtake—­

Enter the Queen

The King.  Look not!  Wait till I tell you, dearest....  Air!...  ‘Loosed to adventure early’ ...  I go late. (Dies.)

Gow.  So!  God hath cut off the Prince in his pleasures.  Gow, to save the King, hath silenced one poor fool who knew how it befell, and now the King’s dead, needs only that the Queen should kill Gow and all’s safe for her this side o’ the Judgment. ...Senor Ferdinand, the wind’s easterly.  I’m for the road.

Ferdinand.  My horse is at the gate.  God speed you.  Whither?

Gow.  To the Duke, if the Queen does not lay hands on me before.  However it goes, I charge you bear witness, Senor Ferdinand, I served the old King faithfully.  To the death, Senor Ferdinand—­to the death!

THE WISHING CAPS

Life’s all getting and giving. 
I’ve only myself to give. 
What shall I do for a living? 
I’ve only one life to live. 
End it?  I’ll not find another. 
Spend it?  But how shall I best? 
Sure the wise plan is to live like a man
And Luck may look after the rest! 
Largesse!  Largesse, Fortune! 
Give or hold at your will. 
If I’ve no care for Fortune,
Fortune must follow me still.

Bad Luck, she is never a lady,
But the commonest wench on the street,
Shuffling, shabby and shady,
Shameless to pass or meet. 
Walk with her once—­it’s a weakness! 
Talk to her twice—­it’s a crime! 
Thrust her away when she gives you ‘good day,’
And the besom won’t board you next time. 
Largesse!  Largesse, Fortune! 
What is Your Ladyship’s mood? 
If I’ve no care for Fortune,
My Fortune is bound to be good!

Good Luck, she is never a lady,
But the cursedest quean alive! 
Tricksey, wincing and jady,
Kittle to lead or drive. 
Greet her—­she’s hailing a stranger! 
Meet her—­she’s busking to leave. 
Let her alone for a shrew to the bone,
And the hussy comes plucking your sleeve! 
Largesse!  Largesse, Fortune! 
I’ll neither follow nor flee. 
If I don’t run after Fortune,
Fortune must run after me!

‘BY THE HOOF OF THE WILD GOAT’

By the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed
From the cliff where she lay in the Sun
Fell the Stone
To the Tarn where the daylight is lost,
So she fell from the light of the Sun
And alone!