SCENE VI.--_Camp of the_ KING OF SCOTS.

_Enter the_ KING OF SCOTS, _the_ English Herald, _and_ Lords.

_K. of Scots._ He would have parley, lords. Herald, say he shall, And get thee gone. Go, leave me to myself. [_Exit_ Herald.--_Lords retire._ 'Twixt love and fear, continual is the war; The one assures me of my Ida's love, The other moves me for my murder'd queen: Thus find I grief of that whereon I joy, And doubt in greatest hope, and death in weal. Alas, what hell may be compar'd with mine, Since in extremes my comforts do consist! War then will cease, when dead ones are reviv'd; Some then will yield when I am dead for hope.-- Who doth disturb me?

_Enter_ ANDREW _and_ SLIPPER.

Andrew?

_And._ Ay, my liege.

_K. of Scots._ What news?

_And._ I think my mouth was made at first To tell these tragic tales, my liefest lord.

_K. of Scots._ What, is Ateukin dead? tell me the worst.

_And._ No, but your Ida--shall I tell him all?-- Is married late--ah, shall I say to whom?-- My master sad--for why he shames the court-- Is fled away; ah, most unhappy flight! Only myself--ah, who can love you more!-- To show my duty,--duty past belief,-- Am come unto your grace, O gracious liege, To let you know--O, would it were not thus!-- That love is vain and maids soon lost and won.

_K. of Scots._ How have the partial heavens, then, dealt with me, Boding my weal, for to abase my power! Alas, what thronging thoughts do me oppress! Injurious love is partial in my right, And flattering tongues, by whom I was misled, Have laid a snare, to spoil my state and me. Methinks I hear my Dorothea's ghost Howling revenge for my accursèd hate: The ghosts of those my subjects that are slain Pursue me, crying out, "Woe, woe to lust!" The foe pursues me at my palace-door, He breaks my rest, and spoils me in my camp. Ah, flattering brood of sycophants, my foes! First shall my dire revenge begin on you.-- I will reward thee, Andrew.

_Slip._ Nay, sir, if you be in your deeds of charity, remember me. I rubbed Master Ateukin's horse-heels when he rid to the meadows.

_K. of Scots._ And thou shalt have thy recompense for that.-- Lords, bear them to the prison, chain them fast, Until we take some order for their deaths. [Lords _seize them._

_And._ If so your grace in such sort give rewards, Let me have naught; I am content to want.

_Slip._ Then, I pray, sir, give me all; I am as ready for a reward as an oyster for a fresh tide; spare not me, sir.

_K. of Scots._ Then hang them both as traitors to the king.

_Slip._ The case is altered, sir: I'll none of your gifts. What, I take a reward at your hands, master! faith, sir, no; I am a man of a better conscience.

_K. of Scots._ Why dally you? Go draw them hence away.

_Slip._ Why, alas, sir, I will go away.--I thank you, gentle friends; I pray you spare your pains: I will not trouble his honour's mastership; I'll run away.

_K. of Scots._ Why stay you? move me not. Let search be made For vile Ateukin: whoso finds him out Shall have five hundred marks for his reward. Away with them, lords!

_Enter_ OBERON _and_ Antics, _and carry away_ SLIPPER; _he makes pots_[296] _and sports, and scorns._ ANDREW _is removed._

Troops, about my tent! Let all our soldiers stand in battle 'ray; For, lo, the English to their parley come.

_March over bravely, first the English host, the sword carried before the_ King _by_ PERCY; _the Scottish on the other side, with all their pomp, bravely._

What seeks the King of England in this land?

_K. of Eng._ False, traitorous Scot, I come for to revenge My daughter's death; I come to spoil thy wealth, Since thou hast spoil'd me of my marriage joy; I come to heap thy land with carcases, That this thy thirsty soil, chok'd up with blood, May thunder forth revenge upon thy head; I come to quit thy loveless love with death: In brief, no means of peace shall e'er be found, Except I have my daughter or thy head.

_K. of Scots._ My head, proud king! abase thy pranking plumes: So striving fondly, mayst thou catch thy grave. But, if true judgment do direct thy course, This lawful reason should divert the war: Faith, not by my consent thy daughter died.

_K. of Eng._ Thou liest, false Scot! thy agents have confess'd it. These are but fond delays: thou canst not think A means to reconcile me for thy friend. I have thy parasite's confession penn'd; What, then, canst thou allege in thy excuse?

_K. of Scots._ I will repay the ransom for her blood.

_K. of Eng._ What, think'st thou, caitiff, I will sell my child? No; if thou be a prince and man-at-arms, In single combat come and try thy right, Else will I prove thee recreant to thy face.

_K. of Scots._ I seek no combat, false injurious king. But, since thou needless art inclin'd to war, Do what thou dar'st; we are in open field: Arming my battle, I will fight with thee.

_K. of Eng._ Agreed.--Now trumpets, sound a dreadful charge. Fight for your princess, brave Englishmen!

_K. of Scots._ Now for your lands, your children, and your wives, My Scottish peers, and lastly for your king!

_Alarum sounded; both the battles offer to meet, and just as the kings are joining battle, enter_ SIR CUTHBERT ANDERSON _and_ LADY ANDERSON; _with them enters_ QUEEN DOROTHEA, _richly attired, who stands concealed, and_ NANO.

_Sir Cuth._ Stay, princes, wage not war: a privy grudge 'Twixt such as you, most high in majesty, Afflicts both nocent and the innocent How many swords, dear princes, see I drawn! The friend against his friend, a deadly feud; A desperate division in those lands Which, if they join in one, command the world. O, stay! with reason mitigate your rage; And let an old man, humbled on his knees, Entreat a boon, good princes, of you both.

_K. of Eng._ I condescend, for why thy reverend years Import some news of truth and consequence.

_K. of Scots._ I am content, for, Anderson, I know Thou art my subject and dost mean me good.

_Sir Cuth._ But by your gracious favours grant me this, To swear upon your swords to do me right.

_K. of Eng._ See, by my sword, and by a prince's faith, In every lawful sort I am thine own.

_K. of Scots._ And, by my sceptre and the Scottish crown, I am resolv'd to grant thee thy request.

_Sir Cuth._ I see you trust me, princes, who repose The weight of such a war upon my will. Now mark my suit. A tender lion's whelp, This other day, came straggling in the woods, Attended by a young and tender hind, In courage haught, yet 'tirèd like a lamb. The prince of beasts had left this young in keep, To foster up as love-mate and compeer, Unto the lion's mate, a neighbour-friend: This stately guide, seducèd by the fox, Sent forth an eager wolf, bred up in France, That gripp'd the tender whelp and wounded it. By chance, as I was hunting in the woods, I heard the moan the hind made for the whelp: I took them both, and brought them to my house. With chary care I have recur'd the one; And since I know the lions are at strife About the loss and damage of the young, I bring her home; make claim to her who list. [_Discovers_ QUEEN DOROTHEA.

_Q. Dor._ I am the whelp, bred by this lion up, This royal English king, my happy sire: Poor Nano is the hind that tended me. My father, Scottish king, gave me to thee, A hapless wife: thou, quite misled by youth, Hast sought sinister loves and foreign joys. The fox Ateukin, cursèd parasite, Incens'd your grace to send the wolf abroad, The French-born Jaques, for to end my days: He, traitorous man, pursu'd me in the woods, And left me wounded; where this noble knight Both rescu'd me and mine, and sav'd my life. Now keep thy promise: Dorothea lives; Give Anderson his due and just reward: And since, you kings, your wars began by me, Since I am safe, return, surcease your fight.

_K. of Scots._ Durst I presume to look upon those eyes Which I have tirèd with a world of woes? Or did I think submission were enough, Or sighs might make an entrance to thy soul, You heavens, you know how willing I would weep; You heavens can tell how glad I would submit; You heavens can say how firmly I would sigh.

_Q. Dor._ Shame me not, prince, companion in thy bed: Youth hath misled,--tut, but a little fault: 'Tis kingly to amend what is amiss. Might I with twice as many pains as these Unite our hearts, then should my wedded lord See how incessant labours I would take.-- My gracious father, govern your affects: Give me that hand, that oft hath blest this head, And clasp thine arms, that have embrac'd this [neck], About the shoulders of my wedded spouse. Ah, mighty prince, this king and I am one! Spoil thou his subjects, thou despoilest me; Touch thou his breast, thou dost attaint this heart: O, be my father, then, in loving him!

_K. of Eng._ Thou provident kind mother of increase, Thou must prevail; ah, Nature, thou must rule! Hold, daughter, join my hand and his in one; I will embrace him for to favour thee: I call him friend, and take him for my son.

_Q. Dor._ Ah, royal husband, see what God hath wrought! Thy foe is now thy friend.--Good men-at-arms, Do you the like.--These nations if they join, What monarch, with his liege-men, in this world, Dare but encounter you in open field?

_K. of Scots._ All wisdom, join'd with godly piety!-- Thou English king, pardon my former youth; And pardon, courteous queen, my great misdeed; And, for assurance of mine after-life, I take religious vows before my God, To honour thee for father, her for wife.

_Sir Cuth._ But yet my boons, good princes, are not pass'd. First, English king, I humbly do request, That by your means our princess may unite Her love unto mine aldertruest love,[297] Now you will love, maintain, and help them both.

_K. of Eng._ Good Anderson, I grant thee thy request.

_Sir Cuth._ But you, my prince, must yield me mickle more. You know your nobles are your chiefest stays, And long time have been banish'd from your court: Embrace and reconcile them to yourself; They are your hands, whereby you ought to work. As for Ateukin and his lewd compeers, That sooth'd you in your sins and youthly pomp, Exile, torment, and punish such as they; For greater vipers never may be found Within a state than such aspiring heads, That reck not how they climb, so that they climb.

_K. of Scots._ Guid knight, I grant thy suit.--First I submit, And humbly crave a pardon of your grace:-- Next, courteous queen, I pray thee by thy loves Forgive mine errors past, and pardon me.-- My lords and princes, if I have misdone (As I have wrong'd indeed both you and yours), Hereafter, trust me, you are dear to me. As for Ateukin, whoso finds the man, Let him have martial law, and straight be hang'd, As all his vain abettors now are dead. And Anderson our treasurer shall pay Three thousand marks for friendly recompense.

_Nano._ But, princes, whilst you friend it thus in one, Methinks of friendship Nano shall have none.

_Q. Dor._ What would my dwarf, that I will not bestow?

_Nano._ My boon, fair queen, is this,--that you would go: Although my body is but small and neat, My stomach, after toil, requireth meat: An easy suit, dread princess; will you wend?

_K. of Scots._ Art thou a pigmy-born, my pretty friend?

_Nano._ Not so, great king, but Nature, when she fram'd me, Was scant of earth, and Nano therefore nam'd me; And, when she saw my body was so small, She gave me wit to make it big withal.

_K. of Scots._ Till time when--

_Q. Dor._ Eat, then.

_K. of Scots._ My friend, it stands with wit To take repast when stomach serveth it.

_Q. Dor._[298] Thy policy, my Nano, shall prevail.-- Come, royal father, enter we my tent:-- And, soldiers, feast it, frolic it, like friends:-- My princes, bid this kind and courteous train Partake some favours of our late accord. Thus wars have end, and, after dreadful hate, Men learn at last to know their good estate. [_Exeunt omnes._

GEORGE-A-GREENE, THE PINNER OF WAKEFIELD

The first Quarto of _George-a-Greene_ was printed in 1599 by Simon Stafford for Cuthbert Burby. It had been entered by Burby on the Stationers' Registers four years earlier, 1st April 1595, as an interlude. Henslowe's first notice of the play occurs for 29th December 1593, at which date it was performed by Sussex' men at the Rose, these players possibly having secured the play from the Queen's players. Henslowe records five performances between 29th December 1593 and 22nd January 1594, sometimes under the major title, and sometimes under the title _The Pinner of Wakefield_. The play was reprinted in Dodsley's _Old Plays_ in 1744. Neither on the title-page, nor on the Stationers' Registers, nor by Henslowe, is the name of the author mentioned. For long it was supposed that the play was by John Heywood. It was finally assigned to Greene through the discovery by Collier of a copy of the Quarto of 1599 with the following notes on the title-page:--

"Written by ... a minister who act[ed] th[e] pinners pt in it himselfe. Teste W. Shakespea[re]. Ed. Juby saith that ye play was made by Ro. Gree[ne]."

These notes are in different hands, and as against the adverse testimony of internal structure, their evidence in favour of Greene's authorship is of slight weight. With the exception of the episode of the King of Scotland and Jane a' Barley the play is founded on a romance, _The Famous History of George-a-Greene_, etc., first printed in 1706 by an editor, N. W., from a MS. now in Sion College. Whether there was a printed Elizabethan version, or the author of the play used the MS., it is now impossible to say. The romance is now reprinted in Thoms' _Early English Prose Romances_, Vol. II. In the Bodleian Library there is a black-letter romance of 1632, treating the same subject, but its story is evidently not the basis of the play. The Quarto of the play, which is owned by the Duke of Devonshire, is very poorly printed, and many scenes have been curtailed.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

EDWARD, King of England.

JAMES, King of Scotland.

EARL OF KENDAL.

EARL OF WARWICK.

LORD BONFIELD.

LORD HUMES.

SIR GILBERT ARMSTRONG.

SIR NICHOLAS MANNERING.

GEORGE-A-GREENE.

MUSGROVE.

CUDDY, his son.

NED-A-BARLEY.

GRIME.

ROBIN HOOD.

MUCH, the Miller's son.

SCARLET.

JENKIN, George-a-Greene's man.

WILY, George-a-Greene's boy.

JOHN.

Justice.

Townsmen, Shoemakers, Soldiers, Messengers, etc.

JANE-A-BARLEY

BETTRIS, daughter to Grime.

MAID MARIAN.

_GEORGE-A-GREENE, THE PINNER[299] OF WAKEFIELD_

ACT THE FIRST