DOROTHEA

How if I were assailed, what couldst thou do? Ah father are you so estranged from love, From endue allegiance to your Prince and land, To leave your King when most he needs your help, The thrifty husbandmen, are never wont That see their lands unfruitful, to forsake them: But when the mould is barren and unapt, They toil, they blow, and make the fallow fat: The pilot in the dangerous seas is known, In calmer waves the silly sailor strives, Are you not members Lords of Commonweal, And can your head, your deer anointed King, Default you Lords, except your selves do fail? O stay your steps, return and counsel him. Ah Douglas thou misconstrest his intent, He does but tempt his wife, he tryees my love: This injury pertains to me, not to you. The King is young, and if he step awry, He may amend, and I will love him still. Should we disdain our vines becauso they sprout Before their time? or young men if they strain Beyo ̄ worser their reach? no vines that bloom and spread Do promise fruits, and young men that are wild, In age grow wise, my Friends and Scottish Peers, If that and English Princess may prevail, Stay, stay with him, lo how my zealous prayer Is plead with tears, fie Peers will you hence? Will you not stay? they Lordings fare you well. Though you forsake your King, the heavens I hope Will favour him through mine incessant prayer. Thy credit Bartram in the Scottish Court,, Thy reverend years, the strictness of thy vows, All these are means sufficient to persuade, But love the faithful link of loyal hearts, That hath possession of my constant mind, Exiles all dread, subdueth vain supect, Me thinks no craft should harbour in that breast, Where Majesty and virtue is staled: Me think my beauty should not cause my death. Suspicion without cause deserves blame. What should I read? Perhaps he wrote it not. Ah careless King, would God this were not thine What though I read? Ah should I think it true? What know I though, if now he thinketh this? What though? Ah Nano, I am weary of these weeds, Weary to wield this weapon that I bore: Weary of love, from whom my woe proceeds. Weary of toil, since I have lost my deer, Oh weary life, where wanted no distress, But every thought is paid with heaviness. If any come and meet us on the way, What should we do if they enforce us stay. O be not angry Nano. Danger and fear withdraw me from delight. God Shield me hapless princes and a wife. They fight, and she is soar wounded. And save my soul, although I lose my life. Ah I am slain, some piteous power repay, This murderers cursed deed, that does me slay. Why are you so intentive to behold, My pale and woeful looks, by care controlled? Peace wanton son, this Lady did amend My wounds: mine eyes her hidden grief shall end, Look not too much, it is a weighty case. Thanks gentle knight, and if all Hope's be true, I hope ere long to do as much for you. God prosper you, and bring you back from thence: Madame what news? Tut, such reports more false then truth contain. Ah careless men, and would they so deceive him? Woes me, for him I moan, Help, now help, a sudden qualm. Assails my heart. Ah Nano, trees live not without their sap, And Clitia cannot blush buton the sun, The thirsty earth is broke with many a gap, And lands are lean, where rivers do not run, Where soul is reft from that it loves best, How can it thrive or boast of quiet rest? Thou knowest the Princes lose must be my death, His grief, my grief: his mischief must be mine: O if thou love me, Nano high to court, Tell Rose, tell Bartram that I am alive, Conceal thou yet, the place of my abode, Will them even as they love their Queen, As they are chary of my soul and joy, To guard the King, to serve him as my Lord: Haste thee good Nana, for my husbands care, Consumeth me and wounds me to the heart. My grief is passed, I feel no further sting. For some affairs, he is not traveled far. Fear keeps awake a discontented breast. What news in Court, Nano let us know it? A woeful murder, and a bloody deed. Wilt thou bewray me Nano? Good Nano stay a while. Were I not sad, how kindly could I smile, To see how feign I am to leave this weed: And yet I faint to show my self indeed. But danger hates delay, I will be bold, Fair Lady I am not, suppose A man, but even that Qeene, more hapless I, Whom Scottish King appointed hath to die: I am the hapless Princess, for whose right, These kings in bloody wars revenge despite. I am that Dorothea whom they seek, Yours bounden for your kindness and relief: And since you are the means that save my life, Your self and I will to the Camp repair, Whereas your husband shall enjoy reward, And bring me to his highness once again. Ah Lady, so would worldly counsel work, But constancy, obedience, and my love, In that my husband is my Lord and chief, These call me to compassion of his estate, Dissuade me not, for virtue will not change, 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, Haste sought sinister loves and foreign joys, The fox Ateukin, cursed Parasite, Incensed your grace to send the wolf abroad, The French born Jaques, for to end my days, He traitorous man, pursued me in the woods, And left me wounded, where this noble knight, Both rescued me and mine, and saved my life. Now keep thy promise, Dorothea lives: Give Anderson his endue and joust reward: And since you kings, your wars began by me, Since I am safe, return surcease your fight. What would my Dwarf, that I will not bestow? Thanks to the king of kings for my dignity, Thanks to my father, that provides so carefully, Thanks to my Lord and husband for this honour, And thanks to all that love their King and me. I will engrave these precepts in my heart, And as the wind with calmness woes you hence, Even so I wish the heavens in all mishaps, May bless my father with continual grace. My royal father is both shipped and gone, God and fair winds direct him to his home. How couldst thou do me good were I in grief? What mean these Princes sadly to consult? Somewhat I fear, betides them amiss, They are so pale in looks, so vexed in mind: In happy hour the Noble Scottish Peers Have I encountered you, what makes you mourn? Speak on good father, come and fit by me: I know thy care is for the common good. What should I do, ah poor unhappy Queen? Born to endure what fortune can contain, Ah lass the deed is too apparent now: But o mine eyes were you as bent to hide, As my poor heart is forward to forgive. Ah cruel king, my love would thee acquit, O what avails to be allied and matched With high estates that marry but in show? Were I baser born, my mean estate Could warrant me from this impendent harm, But to be great and happy these are twain. Ah Rose what shall I do, how shall I work? As if they kill not me, who with him fight? As if his breast be touched, I am not wounded, As if he wailed, my joys were not confounded: We are one heart, though rend by hate in twain: One soul, one essence does our weal contain: What then can conquer him that kills not me? Where may I weened or travel without fear? What shall I clad me Like a Country maid? Why Nano? What garments likste thou than? He makes me blush and smile, though I am sad. What shall I et in breeches Like a squire? Alas poor dwarf, thy Mistresle is unmeet. What should I wear a sword, to what intent: But if I strike, and he should strike again, What should I do? I fear I should be slain. To me pertains the woe, live then in rest: Friends fare you well, keep secret my depart, Nano alone shall my attendant be. Grieve not for those that perish if they stay. Of woe good boy, but of no other thing: To such as hope success, such noats breed ease. Like Phillis I will fit me down to weep. Madame, if undiscovered wounds you mean, They are not curd, because they are not seen. Go thou with speed, even as thou holdest me deer, Return in haste. Fain would I show my self, and change my tire. Thou art not dwarf to learn thy mistress mind. Fain would I with thy self disclose my king, But yet I blush. 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 liegemen in this world, Dare but encounter you in open fields? Eat then. 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. How little shapes much substance may include? Sir Bartram, Rose, ye Ladies and my friends, Since presence yields me death, and absence life, Hence will I fly disguised Like a squire, As one that seeks to live in Irish wars, You gentle Rose, shall furnish my depart. What should I do to please thee friendly squire? And I will seek for rescue out of hand, Run Nano run, prevent thy Princes death. Callet, me strumpet, Catiue as thou art But even a Princess born, who scorn thy threats. Shall never French man say, and English maid, Of threats of foreign force will be afraid. Madame I thank you of your courteous care, My wounds are well nigh closed, though soar they are. Nay live and joy that thou hast wone a friend, That loves thee as his life, by God desert. 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 blessed this head, And clasp thine arms, that have embraced this, About the shoulders of my wedded spouse: Ah mighty Prince, this king and I am one, Spoil thou his subjects, thou despoy lest me: Touch thou his breast, thou dost attaint this heart, O be my father then in loving him. Come pretty knave, and prank it by my side. Lets see your best attendance out of hand. How look I Nano Like a man or no? The battle Nano in this troubled mind, Is far more fierce then ever we may find. The bodies wounds by medicines may be eased, But griefs of minds, by salves are not appeased. God bless his grace, and if his cause be joust, Prosper his wars: if not he'll mend I trust: Good sir what moves the king to fallen to arms? Peace Dwarf, these words my patience move. Ah lass, this war grows great, on causes small. And how?