SCENE II.--_The Same.

_Enter_ ANDREW _and_ Purveyor.

_Pur._ Sirrah, I must needs have your master's horses: the king cannot be unserved.

_And._ Sirrah, you must needs go without them, because my master must be served.

_Pur._ Why, I am the king's purveyor, and I tell thee I will have them.

_And._ I am Ateukin's servant, Signior Andrew, and I say, thou shalt not have them.

_Pur._ Here's my ticket; deny it if thou darest.

_And._ There is the stable; fetch them out if thou darest.

_Pur._ Sirrah, sirrah, tame your tongue, lest I make you.

_And._ Sirrah, sirrah, hold your hand, lest I bum[272] you.

_Pur._ I tell thee, thy master's geldings are good, and therefore fit for the king.

_And._ I tell thee, my master's horses have galled backs, and therefore cannot fit the king. Purveyor, purveyor, purvey thee of more wit: darest thou presume to wrong my Lord Ateukin, being the chiefest man in court?

_Pur._ The more unhappy commonweal where flatterers are chief in court.

_And._ What sayest thou?

_Pur._ I say thou art too presumptuous, and the officers shall school thee.

_And._ A fig for them and thee, purveyor! They seek a knot in a ring that would wrong my master or his servants in this court.

_Enter_ JAQUES.

_Pur._ The world is at a wise pass when nobility is afraid of a flatterer.

_Jaq._ Sirrah, what be you that _parley contre Monsieur_ my Lord Ateukin? _en bonne foi_, prate you against Sir _Altesse_, me maka your _tête_ to leap from your shoulders, _per ma foi c'y ferai-je?_

_And._ O, signior captain, you show yourself a forward and friendly gentleman in my master's behalf: I will cause him to thank you.

_Jaq. Poltron_, speak me one _parola_ against my _bon gentilhomme_, I shall _estamp_ your guts, and thump your backa, that you _no point_ manage this ten hours.

_Pur._ Sirrah, come open me the stable, and let me have the horses;--and, fellow, for all your French brags, I will do my duty.

_And._ I'll make garters of thy guts, thou villain, if thou enter this office.

_Jaq. Mort Dieu_, take me that cappa _pour votre labeur_: be gone, villain, in the _mort_. [_Exit._

_Pur._ What, will you resist me, then? Well, the council, fellow, shall know of your insolency.

_And._ Tell them what thou wilt, and eat that I can best spare from my back-parts, and get you gone with a vengeance. [_Exit_ Purveyor.

_Enter_ ATEUKIN.

_Ateu._ Andrew.

_And._ Sir?

_Ateu._ Where be my writings I put in my pocket last night?

_And._ Which, sir? your annotations upon Machiavel?

_Ateu._ No, sir; the letters-patents for East Spring.

_And._ Why, sir, you talk wonders to me, if you ask that question.

_Ateu._ Yea, sir, and will work wonders too with you, unless you find them out: villain, search me them out, and bring them me, or thou art but dead.

_And._ A terrible word in the latter end of a sessions. Master, were you in your right wits yesternight?

_Ateu._ Dost thou doubt it?

_And._ Ay, and why not, sir? for the greatest clerks are not the wisest, and a fool may dance in a hood, as well as a wise man in a bare frock: besides, such as give themselves to philautia,[273] as you do, master, are so choleric of complexion that that which they burn in fire over night they seek for with fury the next morning. Ah, I take care of your worship! this commonweal should have a great loss of so good a member as you are.

_Ateu._ Thou flatterest me.

_And._ Is it flattery in me, sir, to speak you fair? what is it, then, in you to dally with the king?

_Ateu._ Are you prating, knave? I will teach you better nurture! Is this the care you have of my wardrobe, of my accounts, and matters of trust?

_And._ Why, alas, sir, in times past your garments have been so well inhabited as your tenants would give no place to a moth to mangle them; but since you are grown greater, and your garments more fine and gay, if your garments are not fit for hospitality, blame your pride and commend my cleanliness: as for your writings, I am not for them, nor they for me.

_Ateu._ Villain, go, fly, find them out: if thou losest them, thou losest my credit.

_And._ Alas, sir, can I lose that you never had?

_Ateu._ Say you so? then hold, feel you that you never felt. [_Beats him._

_Re-enter_ JAQUES.

_Jaq._ O monsieur, _ayez patience_: pardon your _pauvre valet_: me be at your commandment.

_Ateu._ Signior Jaques, well met; you shall command me.--Sirrah, go cause my writings be proclaimed in the market-place; promise a great reward to them that find them; look where I supped and everywhere.

_And._ I will, sir--[_aside_]. Now are two knaves well met, and three well parted: if thou conceive mine enigma, gentlemen,[274] what shall I be, then? faith, a plain harp-shilling.[275] [_Exit._

_Ateu._ Sieur Jaques, this our happy meeting rids Your friends and me of care and grievous toil; For I, that look into deserts of men, And see among the soldiers in this court A noble forward mind, and judge thereof, Cannot but seek the means to raise them up Who merit credit in the commonweal. To this intent, friend Jaques, I have found A means to make you great, and well-esteem'd Both with the king and with the best in court: For I espy in you a valiant mind, Which makes me love, admire, and honour you. To this intent, if so your trust, and faith, Your secrecy be equal with your force, I will impart a service to thyself, Which if thou dost effect, the king, myself, And what or he, or I with him, can work, Shall be employ'd in what thou wilt desire.

_Jaq._ Me sweara by my ten bones, my signior, to be loyal to your lordship's intents, affairs: yea, my _monseigneur, que non ferai-je pour_ your pleasure? By my sworda, me be no _babillard_.[276]

_Ateu._ Then hoping on thy truth, I prithee see How kind Ateukin is to forward thee. Hold [_giving money_], take this earnest-penny of my love, And mark my words: the king, by me, requires No slender service, Jaques, at thy hands.-- Thou must by privy practice make away The queen, fair Dorothea, as she sleeps, Or how thou wilt, so she be done to death: Thou shalt not want promotion here in court.

_Jaq._ Stabba the woman! _par ma foi, monseigneur_, me thrusta my weapon into her belly, so me may be guard _par le roi_. Me do your service: but me no be hanged _pour_ my labour?

_Ateu._ Thou shalt have warrant, Jaques, from the king: None shall outface, gainsay, and wrong my friend. Do not I love thee, Jaques? fear not, then: I tell thee, whoso toucheth thee in aught Shall injure me: I love, I tender thee: Thou art a subject fit to serve his grace. Jaques, I had a written warrant once, But that, by great misfortune, late is lost. Come, wend we to Saint Andrews, where his grace Is now in progress, where he shall assure Thy safety, and confirm thee to the act.

_Jaq._ We will attend your nobleness. [_Exeunt._