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Sir Taylor, and a hundred English rebels)
Sur. She has styled him,
Daw. Jolly gentleman!
Enter URSWICK. Urs. Gracious sovereign, Please you peruse
paper. [The king reads. Dur. The king's countenance Gathers a sprightly blood.
Daw. Good news; believe it.
Urswick, thine ear.] Christopher Urswick was at this time almoner to the king. He had been chaplain to the Countess of Richmond, who afterwards married Thomas Lord Stanley, the elder brother of Sir W. Stanley, the person here implicated; and was trusted by this nobleman with the correspondence between him and Richmond (Henry VII.), and therefore, perhaps, much in his confidence and esteem. His eager importunity to betray the brother of bis former patron argues but little for his character; but in those days much consistency is rarely to be found. Weaver, who gives his epitaph, (by which it appears that he possessed and resigned several bigh stations in the church,) concludes thus“ Here let him rest, as an example for all unjust prelates to admire, and for few or none to imitate.”—The news which Urswick now communicated was evidently that of his having privately
Edinburgh.—An Apartment in Lord HUNTLEY'S
Enter HUNTLEY and DALYELL.
Hunt. You trifle time, sir.
Dal. Oh, my noble lord,
Hunt. “ Much mirth,” lord Dalyell!
Dal. Sir, with this truth, You mix such wormwood, that you leave no hope For my disorder'd palate e'er to relish
And run away with her; dance galliards, do, And frisk about the world to learn the languages: ”Twill be a thriving trade; you may set up by’t.
Dal. With pardon, noble Gordon, this disdain Suits not your daughter's virtue, or my constancy. Hunt. You're angry-would he would beat me, I deserve it.
[Aside. Dalyell, thy hand, we are friends: follow thy
courtship, Take thine own time and speak; if thou prevail'st With passion, more than I She's thine; nay, she is thine: 'tis a fair match, Free and allow'd. I'll only use my tongue, Without a father's power; use thou thine: Self do, self have—no more words; win and wear
her. Dal. You bless me; I am now too poor in
Hunt. Nay, thou’rt poor enough.-
can with my counsel,
Enter KATHERINE and JANE.
Hunt. The gallant-
Kath. I acknowledge him A worthy friend of mine.