HORATIO

To me my Sovereign. But first my lance did put him from his horse. But first I forced him lay his weapons down, Nor I, although I fit beside my right. For love of him and service to your self, I nill refuse this heavy doleful charge. Yet tears and sighs, I fear will hinder me. When both our Armies were enjoined in fight. Your worthy chevalier amid the thikst, For glorious cause still aiming at the fairest, Was at the last by young Done Balthazar, Encountered hand to hand: their fight was long, Their hearts were great, their clamours menacing, Their strength alike, their strokes both dangerous. But wrathful Nemesis that wicked power, Envying at Andreas praise and worth, Cut short his life to end his praise and Worth. She, she her self disguised in armours mask, (As Pallas was before proud Pergamus: ) Brought in a fresh supply of Halberdiers, Which pauncht his horse and dingd him to the ground, Then young Done Balthazar with ruthless rage, Taking advantage of his foes distress, Did finish what his Halberdiers begun, And left not till Andreas life was done. Then though too late incensed with joust remorse, I with my band set foe that against the Prince, And brought him prisoner from his Halberdiers. No, that was it for which I chiefly strou , Nor stepped I back till I recovered him: I took him up and wound him in mine arms. And welding him unto my private tent, There laid him down and dewd him with my tears, And sighed and sorrowed as became a friend. But neither friendly sorrow, sighs nor tears, Could win pale death from his usurped right. Yet this I did and less I could not do: I saw him honoured with endue funeral, This scarf I plucked from off his lifeless arm, And wear it in remembrance of my friend. And (Madame) Done Horatio will not slack, Humbly to serve fair Bel-imperia. But now if your good liking stand thereto, e crave your pardon to go seek the Prince, For so the Duke your father gave me charge. Madame, your Glove. I reaped more grace then I deserved or hoped. The King my Lords is coming hither straight, To feast the Portugal Ambassador, Things were in readiness before I came. Now Madame, since by favour of your love, Our hidden smoke is turned to open flame: And that with looks and words we feed our though Two chief contents, where more cannot be had. Thus in the amid of loves fair blandishments, Why show you sign of inward lan guishments. The less I speak, the more I meditate. On dangers passed, and pleasures to ensue. Dangers of war, and pleasures of our love. But gracious Madame, then appoint the field, Where trial of this war shall first be made. But honey sweet, and honourable love. Return we now into your father's sighed, Dangerous suspicion waits on our delight. Now that the night begins with sable wings, To overcloud the brightness of the Sun, And that in darkness pleasures may be done: Come Bel-imperia let us to the bower, And there in safety pass a pleasant hour. Why, make you doubt of Pedringanos faith? What means my love? Sweet say not so, fair fortune is our friend, And heavens have shut up day to pleasure us. The stars thou seest hold back their twinkling shine, And Luna hides her self to pleasure us. The more thou sittest within these leafy bowers, The more will Flora deck it with her flowers. Hark Madame how the birds record by night, For joy that Bel-imperia sits in sighed. If Cupid sing, then Venus is nor far, I thou art Venus or some fairer star. Then thus begin our wars put forth thy hand, That it may combat with my ruder hand. But first my looks shall combat against thine. Thus I retort the dart thou threw stat me. Nay then my arms are large and strong with Thus Elms by vines are compassed till they fallen. Oh stay a while and I will die with thee, So shalt thou yield, and yet have conquered me. What will you murder me?