MESSENGER

To Cambria, Madam, with letters from ̄ the king. I, but you needs not care: and so must I, A handsome man, be quickly trust up, And when a man's hanged, all the world cannot save him, I am overjoyed, I surfeit of sweet words: Kind Queen, had I a hundred lines, I would Spend ninety Nine of them for you, for that word. That one life is not too deer for my good Queen; this sword, this buckler, this head, this heart, these hands, arms, legs, tripes, bowels, and all the members else whatsoever, are at your dispose; use me, trust me, command me: if I fail in any thing, tie me to a dung cart, and make a Scavengers horse of me, and whip me, so long as I have any skin on my back. A strong Bound, a firm Obligation, good in law, good in law: if I keep not the condition, let my neck be the forfey ture of my negligence. And as bade a tongue if it be set on it, as any Oysterwife at Billingsgate hath: why, I have made many of my neighbours forsake their houses with railing upon them, and go dwell else where; and so by my means houses have been good cheap in our parish: My tongue being well whetted with choler, is more sharp then a Razor of Palerno. Commend me not, sweet Queen, before you try me. As my deserts are, so do think of me. I thirst to hear it. I fly, I fly. I have been ouer-negligent to day, In going to the Temple of my God, To render thanks for all his benefits, Which he miraculously hath bestowed on me, In raising me out of my mean estate, When as I was devoid of worldly friends, And placing me in such a sweet content, As far exceeds the reach of my deserts. My kingly husband, my rrour of his time, For zeal, for justice, kindness, and for care To God, his subjects, me, and Common weal, By his appointment was ordained for me. I cannot with the thing that I do want; I cannot want the thing but I may have, Save only this which I shall never obtain, My father's love, o this I never shall gain. I would abstain from any nutryment, And pine my body to the very bones: Bore foot I would on pilgrimage set forth Unto the furthest quarters of the earth, And all my life time would I sackcloth wear, And mourning-wise pour dust upon my head: So he but to forgive me once would please, That his grey hairs might go to heaven in peace. And yet I know not how I him offended, Or wherein justly I have deserved blame. O sisters! you are much to blame in this, It was not he, but you that did me wrong. Yet God forgive both him, and you and me, Even as I do in perfect charity. I will to Church, and pray unto my Saviour, That ere I die, I may obtain his favour. Now happily I am arrived here, Before the stately Palace of the Cambrian King: If Leir be here safe-seated, and in rest, To rouse him from it I will do my best. Now bags of gold, your virtue is (no doubt) To make me in my message bold and stout. The King of heaven preserve your Majesty. And send your Highness everlasting reign. Kind greetings from the Cornwall Queen: The residue these letters will declare. I did leave her at my parting, in good health. See how her colour comes and goes again, Now read as scarlet, now as pale as ash: She how she knits her brow, and bites her lips, And stamps, and makes a dumb show of disdain, Mixed with revenge, and violent extremes. Here will be more work and more crowns for me. She never yet committed trust to me, But that (I hope) she found me always faithful So will I be to any friend of hers, That hath occasion to employ my help. I have a heart compact of Adamant, Which never knew what melting pity meant. I weigh no more the murdering of a man, Then I respect the cracking of a Flay, When I do catch her biting on my skin. If you will have your husband or your father, Or both of them sent to another world, Do but command me doo't, it shall be done. I, this is it will make me do the deed: O, had I every day such customers, This were the gainefulst trade in Christendom! A purse of gold given for a paltry stab! Why, heres a wench that longs to have a stab. Well, I could give it her, and never hurt her neither. It is a world to see now I am flush, How many friends I purchase every where! How many seeks to creep into my favour, And kiss their hands, and bend their knees to me! No more, here comes the Queen, now shall I know her mind, And hope for to derive more crowns from her. I am a poor man, and it Like your Grace; But yet I always love to keep my word. I long to hear it, it might have been dispatched, If you had told me of it yesternight. It is more strange, that I am not by this Beside my self, with longing for to hear it. Were it to meet the Devil in his den, And try a bout with him for a scratched face, Idem undertake it, if you would but bid me. I'll speak it for thee, Queen: shall I kill thy father? I know 'tis that, and if it be so, say. Why, thats enough. What else? Here are two hands, for eke of them is one O, that I had ten hands by miracle, I could tear ten in pieces with my teeth, So in my mouth yould put a purse of gold. But in what manner must it be effected? Could he speak words as pleasing as the pipe Of Mercury, which charmed the hundred eyes Of watchful Argos, and enforced him sleep: Yet here are words so pleasing to my thoughts, As quite shall take away the found of his. Persuade him so; but isle make him and you Confess, that dreams do often prove too true. Leave that to me, I will expound the dream. I'll make you quake for something presently. Stand, Stand. Deliver, deliver. You should have prayed before, while it was time, And then perhaps, you might have escaped my hands: But you, Like faithful watchmen, fell asleep, The while I came and took your Halberds from you And now you want your weapons of defence, How have you any hope to be delivered? This comes, because you have no better stay, But fallen asleep, when you should watch and pray: Sblood, how the old slave claws me by the elbow? He thinks, belike, to escape by scraping thus. That to be false, behold my evidence. I'll none of them, they are too light for me. Do you hear, do you hear, sir: If I had occasion to use you to the Queen, Would you do one thing for me I should ask? Hear you sir, hear you? pray, a word with you. Me thinks, a comely honest ancient man Should not dissemble with one for a vantage. I know, when I shall come to try this gear, You will recant from all that you have said. I know he is, and therefore mean to try him: You are his friend too, I must try you both. Stay gray-beards then, and prove men of your words: The Queen hath tied me by a solemn oath, Here in this place to see you both dispatched: Now for the safeguard of my conscience, Do me the pleasure for to kill your selves: So shall you save me labour for to do it, And prove your selves true old men of your words. And here I vow in sighed of all the world, I never will trouble you while I live again. I am the last of any mortal raze, That ere your eyes are likely to behold, And hither sent of purpose to this place, To give a final perjod to your days, Which are so wicked, and have lived so long, That your own children seek to short your life. From France? zoons, do I look Like a Frenchman? Sure I have not mine own face on; some body hath changed faces with me, and I know not of it: But I am sure, my apparel is all English. Sirrah, what meanest thou to ask that question? I could spoil the fasion oh this face for anger. A French face! As I am a perfect gentleman, thou speakest French to me: I never herd Cordellaes name before, Nor never was in France in all my life: I never knew thou hadst a daughter there, To whom thou didst prove so unkind a churl: But thy own tongue declares that thou hast been A vile old wretch, and full of heinous sin. You are the fitter for the King of heaven: And therefore, for to rid thee of suspense, Know thou, the Queens of Cambria and Cornwall, Thy own two daughters, Gonorill and Ragan, Appointed me to massacre thee here. Why wouldst thou then persuade me, that thou art In charity with all the world? but now When thy own issue hold thee in such hate, That they have hired me abridge thy fate, O, fie upon such vile dissembling breath, That would deceive, even at the point of death. Fear nothing, man, thou art but in a dream, And thou shalt never wake until dooms day, By they, I hope, thou wilt have slept enough. I'll grant you any thing, except your lives. That to be true, in sighed of heaven I swear. I swear by earth, the mother of us all. Why then, by hell, and all the devils I swear. I would that word were in his belly again, It hath frighted me even to the very heart: This old man is some strong Magician: His words have turned my mind from this exploit. Then neither heaven, earth, nor hell be witness; But let this paper witness for them all. Shall I relent, or shall I prosecute? Shall I resolve, or were I best recant? I will not crack my credit with two Queens, To whom I have already passed my word. O, but my conscience for this act does tell, I get heavens hate, earth's scorn, and pains of hell. But I am not prepared for to strike. I, but you are unwise, to send and errand By him that never means to deliver it: Why, he must go along with you to heaven: It were not good you should go all alone. Nay, presently, to bear you company. I have a Passport for him in my pocket, Already sealed, and he must needs ride Post. Marry, but it does, sir, by your leave; your good days are passed: though it be no matter for you, 'tis a matter for me, proper men are not so rife. Why that am I, let that never trouble thee. I am as hard to be moved as another, and yet me thinks the strength of their persuasions stirs me a little. I am as wilful as you for your life: I will not do it, now you do entreat me. Beshrew you for it, you have put it in me: The parlosest old men, that ere I herd. Well, to be flat, isle not meddle with you: Here I found you, and here isle leave you: If any ask you why the case so stands? Say that your tongue as were better then your hands. Unto your father, if he be there. Madam, I hope your Grace will stand Between me and my neck-verse, if I be Called in question, for opening the Kings letters. It suffices, conceit it is already done: I will so toung-whip him, that I will Leave him as bore of credit, as a Poulter Leaves a Cony, when she pulls off his skin. Few words are best in so small a matter: These are but trifles. By this book I will. Were it not a mad jest, lest two or three of my professio ̄ should meet me, and lay me down in a ditch, and play rob thiere with me, & perforce take my gold away from me, whilst I act this stratagem, and by this means the grey beards should escape? Faith, when I were at liberty again, I would make no more to do, but go to the next tree, and there hang my self. But stay, me thinks, my youths are here already, And with pure zeal have prayed themselves asleep. I think, they know to what intent they came, And are provided for another world. Now could I stab them bravely, while they sleep, And in a manner put them to no pain; And doing so, I showed them mighty friendship: For fear of death is worse then death it self. But that my sweet Queen willed me for to show This letter to them, ere I did the deed. Mass, they begin to stir: isle stand aside; So shall I come upon them unawares. I, but the Queen commands it must be so, And I am paid for him, as well as you.