DUKE

I know that life Has not long course in me, 'twill not be long Before I show that Kings have mortal bodies As well as Subject's, therefore to my comfort, And your successful Hope's I have a Son Whom I dare boast of;— It shall be so, what is in hope begun, Experience quickens, travail confirms the man, Who's else lives doubtful, and his days oft sorry, "Who's rich in Knowledge, ha the stock of glory. Some one attend our Son. O you come well. Your Serious studies, & those fruitful hours That grow up into judgement, well become Your birth, and all our loves: I weep that you are my son, But Virtuously I weep, the more my gladness: We have thought good and meet by the consent Of these our Nobles, to move you towards Travail, The better to approve you to your self And give your apter power, foundation: To see affections actually presented, Ee'n by those men that owe them, yield more profit, I more content, then singly to read of them, "Since love or fear, make Writers partial, The good and free example which you find, In other Countries, match it with your own, The ill to shame the ill, which will in time, Fully instruct you how to set in frame, A kingdom all in pieces. I do not Like that strain, You know my age affords not to live long. Bestow that wish upon the Prince our Son. How now, what fresher news fills the Courts ear? Our joy breaks at our eyes, the Prince is come! What's here my Lord? I have God such a large portion of knowledge, most worthy father, by the benefit of my Travail, That I am bold now to warn you of Lord Proditors insolent Treason, who has irreligiously see duc'd a fellow, and closely conveyed him ee'n in the pre sence-chaire to murder you: What was that fell? whats he? Let me admire heaven's wisdom in my Son. Dost thou make false our Son? A guard. Stay you, I find you here too. Against Lussurioso and Infesto, who not only most ryotouslye consume their houses in vicious Gam ming, mortgaging their livings to the Merchant, where by he with his heirs enter upon their lands, from whence this abuse comes, that in short time the Son of the Merchant has more Lordship's then the Son of the Nobleman(which else was never born to inheri tance) but that which is more impious, they most adul terously train out young Ladies to Midnight ban quets, to the utter defamation of their own honours, & ridiculous abuse of their Husbands. What are you named? I cannot with sufficient joy receive thee, And yet my joy's too much, Our word's not vain, I know thee wise canst both obey and reign, The rest of life we dedicate to heaven. What's he? a guard! He that knows how to obey, knows how to reign And that true knowledge have we found in you, Make choice of your Attendants. What none but he? 'Tis most welcome. It shall be Dear and precious to our Eye. Falso, you came fitly, You are the very next that follows here. Against Justice Falso. Who having had the honest charge of his Niece committed to his trust, by the last will and Test ament of her deceased father, and with her all the pow er of his wealth, not only against faith and conscience detains her Dowry, but against Nature and humanity assays to abuse her body. Are you the plaintive here? Seldom comes a worse—and moreover not containde in this vice only, which is odious to much, but against the sacred use of Justice, maintains three threeues to his men. Who only take Purses in their Masters liber tie, where if any one chance to be taken, he appears be before him in a false Beard, and own of his own fellows takes his examination. And in the end will execute Justice so cruelly upon him, that he will not trust him in a prison, but commit him to his fellows chamber. MY Lords, Know that we far from any natural pride Or touch of temporal sway, have seen our face In our graven counsels foreheads: where does stand Our truest glass, made by Times wrinkled hand. We know wee're old, my days proclaim me so: Forty-five years, I've gently ruled this Dukedom, Pray heaven it be no fault, For there's as much disease, though not to the eye, In too much pity, as in Tyranny. You have answered us with wisdom, let it be. Things private are best known through privacy. Peace, you're too foul, your crime is in excess: One spot of him, makes not your Ulcers less. To thee let Reverence all her powers en gage, That art in youth a miracle to age. State is but blindness, ethou hadst piercing Art, We only saw the knee; but thou the heart. To thee then power and Dukedom we resign, He's fit to reign, whose knowledge can refine: Did your Violence force away his Niece?