ARGALIO

I am sent on imbassage to the right migh tie and magnificent: alias, the right proud and Pon tificall the County Sacrepant. For Marsillus & Or lando knowing him to be as full of prowess as po licie, and fearing least in leaning to the other faction, he might greatly prejudice them, they seek first to hold the candle before the devil: & knowing him to be a Thrasonical madcap, they have sent me a Gnathonical companion, to give him lettice fit for his lips. Now sir, knowing his astronomical humours, as one that gazes so high at the stars, as he never looks on the pavement in the streets. But whist, Lupus est in fabulam. God save your Majesty? The mighty Mandricard of Mexico. Marry sir. Yes, if it please your Majesty. Such sparks of peerless Majesty, From those looks flames Like lightning from the East As either Mandricard, or else some greater Prince. To the County Sacrepant. It pleases your Majesty to jest. Then may it please your honour: the Em peror Marsillus together with his daughter Angeli Can and Orlando entreateth your Excellency to dine with them. There my good Lord. I will my Lord. My Lord. By my troth my Lord, I think Angelica is a woman. Therefore unconstant, mutable, having their loves hanging in their eyelids; that as they are God with a look, so they are lost again with a wink. But heres a Shepherd, it may be he can tell us news. Alas my Lord, I am your servant Orgalio No by my troth my Lord, I am Orgalio, ask all these people else. My Lord look where he sits. Help, help, my Lord of Aquitaine. Oh my Lord of Aquitaine the Count Or lando is run mad, and taking of a shepherd by the heals, rends him as one would tear a Lark. See where he comes with a leg on his neck. Ah my Lord Orlando. He my Lord runs madding through the woods, Like mad Orestes in his greatest rage. Step but aside into the bordering grove, There shall you see engraved on every tree, The lawless love of Medor and Angelica. Oh see my Lord, not any shrub but bears The cursed stamp that wrought the Counties rage If thou be'st mighty King Marsillus, For whom the County would adventure life: Revenge it on the false Angelica. Here my Lord, did you call me? Then God be with you. No by my troth. Why then she shall be buried. Why it may be so. I, I think so. What do you mean my Lord? Yes yes my Lord I will. My Lord. Nay I have quickly done. My Lord. Why do you Beatrice me my Lord? Laugh? yes, I'll laugh all day and you will. My Lord. Would would would would. Nay this is easier than the other was. I know not the herb Moly i'faith. 'Tis here my Lord, 'tis here. Shall I tell him your name? No by my troth, nor no wiseman else. Look my Lord heres one killed. You my Lord I think. Here my Lord. He cannot choose being of your making Faith I cannot tell. Alas my Lord, I know not where she is. Faith I'll fetch you such and Angelica as you never saw before. Come away, and take heed you laugh not. Tush, that will not be seen. Doubt not of that man. why, how was that? Excellent: come see where my Lord is. My Lord, here is Angelica. Yes marry is she my Lord. It is my Lord. Then go thy ways and climb up to the Clouds, And tell Apollo that Orlando sits, Making of verses for Angelica. And if he do deny to send me down The shirt which Deianyra sent to Hercules, To make me brave upon my wedding day; Tell him I'll pass the Alps, and up to Meroe, (I know he knows that watery lakish hill) And pull the harp out of the minstrelis hands, And pawn it unto lovely Proserpine, That she may fetch the fair Angelica. But my Lord Apollo is a sleep & will not hear me, What old acquaintance well met. Not, but I can tell thee where thou mayest earn two or three shillings this morning, even with the turning of a hand. Then play a fit of mirth to my Lord. No, no, come play. Why of any side. Tush I warrant thee. Faith my Lord some old witch I think. come, come, stand by, your breath stinks. Heremy Lord.