CHESTER

I was born Eagle-fighted, and to gaze In the Suns forehead; I will brook no cloud To stand betwixt me and his glorious fire, I'll have f ll light, or none; either foare high, Or else sink low; my ominous Fate is Can to, Or to be first, or of all abjects last. Challenge him Of Treason then, and that may haply call His Loyalty into suspect and question, Which on the King at will breed a coldness, If not a deadness of affection. I should be loath. Pray teach me how? But further. Fully; come to horse, And as we ride, our further plots digest, To find what may disturb, what aid us best. You were the better horst. Further my Lord, what can his smoothness mean, His courtesy, and his humility, But as fly baits to catch the peoples hearts, And wean them from your love. Think but my Lord on his last game at Chess, I was his passed odds, but when he saw you moved, With what a sly neglect he lost the mate, Only to make you bound to'him. In the Tournament Made by the Prince your son, when he was Peerless, And without equal, this ambitious Martial Strives to exceed, and did; but when he saw Your Highness moved to see the Prince disgraced, He lost the Prize; but how? that all the people Might see it given, not forfiet, which did add Rather than derogate: briefly my Lord, His courtesy is all ambition. It takes, these jealous thoughts we must pursue, And to his late doubts still add something new. What beggar's this? Comparisons? Away. My Lord the Prince, The King calls for you; for he dines to day In the great Hall with great solemnity, And his best state: Lord Martial, you this day Must use your place, and wait, so all the Lords. Note you that? I needs not your instruction; the Kings bounty Bestows it freely, and I take my place. I shall my Lord. The King commands you to give up your Key Unto that Lord that nears you: henceforth Sir, You to his person are denied access, But when the King commands. The King would have you to forbear the Council, And to give up your Staff. Sir, are you moved? Sir, the King greets you, and commands you effect His will in this you know the Character. You'll Like the letter better than the style: Would, change your face? is your blood moved to the tied, Or ebbs it to your heart? I cannot st for answer pray be brief. I shall wait your pleasure. Sir, I have sta ed your leisure, now your Answer? I easily can believe That this the fairest is, her Like in Court Lives not; she is a Present for a King. I shall, come Lady. Her whom her father the most fair esteems, He hath sent by me, only with this request, That if his free gift do not Like your Highness, You'll send her back untouched to his embrace. Ey that's the grief. What shall I further say? Now the goal is ours. The King thy daughter hath in scorn sent back. Propound it. Upon my soul There is no gilded in her. Her double Dower The King returns thee. Being thus discharged of her, I from the King Command thee send thy fairer Girl to Court, She that's at home, with her to act his pleasure. If Treasons imputation thou wilt shun, And not incur the forfeit of thy life, Let the Kings will take place. Will you send her? Your excuse Hath ground from love and reason: This your answer I shall return to the King. I shall your words have perfect, and repeat them Unto the King. The King shall know as much. Upon my life my Lord, when she is perfect, And hath received her full ability, She shall attend your pleasure. With pardon of the Queen, she's paralleled By her fair Sister. This must not hold, prevention out of hand, For if the Martial rise, we stand not long. They must of force. This is not that to which our Fortune's trust. I fear our fallen: if once the Martial rise, Down, down must we. Leave it to me. I am all dulness, There's no life in me, I have lost my spirit, And fluence of my brain: observe you not In what a height you fellow now resides That was so late dejected; trebly grafted Into the Royal blood? what can succeed, But that we all our honours must resign, And he of them be repossest again? And they have all our pointed stratagems Turned back upon our selves. His Bases are so fixed he cannot shrink, Being so many ways ingrast and planted In the Kings blood: but our supporters stand As shak't with Earthquakes, or else built on sand. Gone discontented hence. Why who can sleep That hath a labouring brain, and sees from far So many storms and tempests threaten him? It is not in my element to doo't. None, none, and therefore can I find no rest. That day is night to me, Whilst you Sun shines: I had this even some conference In private with the King, in which I urged The Martialls discontent, withal inferred, That by his look the Princess he despised: The King changed face: and could we second this By any new conjecture, there were hope. To draw him in displeasure. In one, ten thousand. Hath he refused the Princess? Your Highness might do well to call in question His insolence and to arraign him fort. Arraign him on the sudden, ever it provied; Le him not dream upon evasive shft S, But take him unprepared. It's humble pride, and mere hypocrisy To blind the King, it's but ambitious zeal, And a dissembling cunning to aspire. You have disloyally sought to exceed The King your Sovereign, and his royal deeds To blemish, which your fellow Peers thus construe, That strengthened by th'alliance of the King, And better armed by the peoples love, You may prove danngerous. In policy of state to quench the sparks Before they grow to flame, and top your height, Before your spacious branches spread too far, What to this general motion can you say, Before we tax you with particulars? Most true; a grounded proposition To question you of life. But for your scornful sending Of the fair Princess dower back to the King, How can you answer that? Shall we my Lord his actions censure freely? his use we make From this your ancient Persian History, That you a noble and a courteous Peer, Praised for your hospital virtues and high bounty, Shall be first crowned with Laurel to your worth: But since you durst against your Sovereign Oppose your self, you by your pride misled, Shall as a noble Traitor lose your head. My Liege, command them hence, they but disturb The Traitor in his death. Dread Sovereign. The Heavens have showed their bounty unto us, In guarding your most deer and isacred life From opposite hatred, and that imminent peril To which you were engaged. Greater and greater still, no plot, no trick To have him quite removed from the Kings Grace, To slander him? Sir your Answer?