CAMBRIA

Get a fresh horse: for by my soul I swear, I am passed patience, longer to forbear The wished sighed of my beloved mistress, Dear Ragan, stay and comfort of my life. Brother of Cornwall, met in happy time: I thought as much to have met with the Sultan of Persia, As to have met you in this place, my Lord. No doubt, it is about some great affairs, That makes you here so slenderly accompanied. My Lord, to break off further circumstances, For at this time I cannot brook delays: Tell you your reason, I will tell you mine. You tell me wonders, yet I will relate Strange news, and henceforth we must brother's call; Witness these lines: his honourable age, Being weary of the troubles of his Crown, His princely daughter Ragan will bestow On me in marriage, with half his Signory, Whom I would gladly have accepted of, With the third partly, her compliments are such. The hold! how mean you that? Zlood, I hope, We shall have two holes between us. I, that's very true. 'Tis very strange, I know not what to think, Unless they mean to make a Nun of her. Then let S haste, all danger to prevent, For fear delays do altar his intent. No other scuse of absence can I frame, Then what my brother hath informed your Grace: For our undeserved welcome, we do vow, Perpetually to rest at your command. Oh, may my fortune prove no worse then his, Since heavens do know, my fancy is as much. Dear Ragan, say, if welcome unto thee, All welcomes else will little comfort me. What two old men are those that seem so sad? Me thinks, I should remember well their looks. Come, father, ever we any further talk, You shall refresh you after this weary walk. What strange mischance or unexpected hap Hath thus deprived us of our father's presence? Can no man tell us what's become of him, With whom we did converse not two days since? My Lords, let every where light-horse be sent, To scour about through all our Regiment. Dispatch a Post immediately to Cornwall, To see if any news by of him there; My self will make a strict inquiry here, And all about our Cities near at hand, Till certain news of his abided be brought. The heavens are joust, and hate impiety, And will (no doubt) reveal such heinous crimes: Censure not any, till you know the right: Let him be Judge, that brings truth to light. This matter shall be sifted: if it be she, A thousand France's shall not harbour her. Welcome, my friend, from whence is thy Ambassage? I will suspend my judgement for a time, Till more appearance give us further light: Yet to be plain, your coming does enforce A great suspicion to our doubtful mind, And that you do resemble, to be brief, Him that first robs, and then cries, Stop the thief. What should I do? infringe the law of Arms, Were to my everlasting obloquy: But I will take revenge upon his master, Which sent him hither, to delude us thus. But I will prove her title to be nought But shame, and the reward of Parricide, And make her and example to the world, For after-ages to admire her penance. This will I do, as I am Cambria's King, Or loose my life, to prosecute revenge. Come, first let's learn what news is of our father, And then proceed, as best occasion fits. Nor he nor thou have any interest here, But what you win and purchase with the sword. Thy slanders to our noble virtuous Queens, We'll in the battle thrust them down thy throat, Except for fear of our revenging hands, Thou fly to sea, as not secure on lands. I, with their swords they'll make your tongue unsay What they have said, or else they'll cut them out. I think, there is a devil in the Camp hath haunted me to day: he hath so tired me, that in a manner I can fight no more. Zounds, here he comes, I'll take me to my horse.