COURTIER

Look this way, Lady, and in me behold Your truest servant. She's mine. Thus looked the moon, when with her virgin fires She went in progress to the mountain Latmos, To visit her Endymion, yet I injure Your beauty, to compare it to her orb Of silver light, the Sun from which, she borrows That makes her up the nightly Lamp of heaven, Has in his stock of beams not half your luster, Enrich the earth still with your sacred presence, Upon each object throw a glorious star, Created by your sighed, that when the learned Astronomer comes forth to examine heaven, He may find two, and be himself divided, Which he should first contemplate. But I the best. I remember. Ere since I knew the Court, I had no other study but to advance My self to Honour, all my suits have been Directed to this one, that Honour would Fix me among those other Constellations That shine about the King, 'tis in thy love To plant a Coronet here: and then I dare Justle the proudest Hero and be inscribed A demy God, frown dead the humble mortal, And with my breath call back their souls again. What cannot Honour do? And will maintain it. Dare not? Good Captain Voice, It shall, and reach you manners, I have yet No Ague, I can look upon your buff, And punto beard, and call for no strong waters, I am no Tavern gull, that wants protection, Whom you with oaths do use to mortify, And swear into the payments of all reckonings, Upon whose credit you wear belt and feather, Top and top gallant, and can make him seal At midnight to your Taylor, go invite Young Gentlemen to dinner, and then pawn they, Or valiantly with some of your own file, Conspire a Sconce, or to a bawdy house March with your Regiment, and kick the Leverets, Make cullice o'the Bawds, yet be made friends, Before the Constable be sent for, and Run to'the ticket for the pox, these services, I do presume, you are acquainted with. Or Wertenberg thou what thou seemest, a Soldier, For so much good I wish thee for my honour, When I have killed thee. Let me ask your Soldier ship but one cold question, If Lady Honour, whom you have presumed Without good manners to affect, should possibly Descend to marry thee, prithee what jointure Couldst thou make her? I'll admit for arguments sake, Thou art a Soldier, perhaps You will give her a Catalogue of Towns, Or Leaguers, the names of bridges broken down, Your nose in time may make another, you will tell her Of onslaughts, Bulwarks, Barricado, Forts, Of Cannon, Culvering, Sacres, and a rabble Of your Artillery, which you have cond by heart, A role of Captains names, perhaps you have In ready wounds, some twenty idle, admit it, And in diseases can assure her forty, This won't do, she cannot eat a Snapsack, Nor carry baggage, lie in your foul Hut, And rost your pullen, for whose precious theft, You and the Gibbet fear to be acquainted, If you return into your wholesome Country, Upon your honourable wooden legs. The houses of correction are no Palaces, And Passes must be had, or else the Beadles Will not be satisfied, the Treasurers name And twelvepence for your service i'th Low countries, And spending of your blood for doughty Dutchmen, That would have would ̄ g'd you there, but in their charity You were reserved for begggery at home, Is no inheritance I take it sir. I have not much more to say. Very good. Pray come, and take a chamber. I'll hear no more. Darest thou blaspheme the Court? How do you know what I am, or what title Perhaps I wear? I speak of such as thou Wertenberg, and I dare Maintain, and write as much in thy own blood. Dost thou not see, Honesty? I never could endure her, she appears More terrible then a ghost, I would no stomach To fight, my blood is frozen in my veins, She is a thousand punishments at once: Now would I give my Office to be at peace With mine own conscience, would, she do's pursue me? Whats the matter, more terror? Another apparition. No Honour to be found. Would? I have been acquainted with this Lady. I am your servant, Lady. We wish you joy. But here's the Lady whom we inquire for. How familiar they are! I hope they're not married. So, Lady. Married the Scholar? despised. We must obey our destiny. Since Fate Meant me not so much happiness, to be The husband, let me still be humble servant To Honour. And here our love unites. Pardon what language My passion threw upon thee acknowledge A Soldiers worth above the reach of malice. Bless me but with one smile if you did know With what devotion my soul looks on you, How next to my religion I have placede, If not above How long since I first vowed my self your , That eye would Ground?