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A subtle trick, a quaint one.-Will you hear,

man?

What did I say to you? come, come, to th' point. Kath. It shall not need, my lord.

Hunt. Then hear me, Kate!

Keep you on that hand of her; I on this.-
Thou stand'st between a father and a suitor,
Both striving for an interest in thy heart:
He courts thee for affection, I for duty;
He as a servant pleads; but by the privilege
Of nature, though I might command, my care
Shall only counsel what it shall not force.

Thou canst but make one choice; the ties of marriage

Are tenures, not at will, but during life.

Consider whose thou art, and who; a princess,
A princess of the royal blood of Scotland,

In the full spring of youth, and fresh in beauty..
The king that sits upon the throne is young,
And yet unmarried, forward in attempts
On any least occasion, to endanger

His
person; wherefore, Kate, as I am confident
Thou dar'st not wrong thy birth and education
By yielding to a common servile rage
Of female wantonness, so I am confident
Thou wilt proportion all thy thoughts to side
Thy equals, if not equal thy superiors.
My lord of Dalyell, young in years, is old
In honours, but nor eminent in titles
[N]or in estate, that may support or add to
The expectation of thy fortunes. Settle

Thy will and reason by a strength of judgment,
For, in a word, I give thee freedom; take it.
If equal fates have not ordain'd to pitch

Thy hopes above my height, let not thy passion
Lead thee to shrink+ mine honour in oblivion:
Thou art thine own; I have done."

Dal. Oh! you are all oracle,

The living stock and root of truth and wisdom. Kath. My worthiest lord and father, the indul

gence

Of your sweet composition, thus commands
The lowest of obedience; you have granted
A liberty so large, that I want skill

To choose without direction of example:
From which I daily learn, by how much more

4 Lead thee to shrink mine honour, &c.] This is the reading of the 4to, and makes very good sense; but from the general tenor of the sentence, I am inclined to believe that the poet's word was sink.

5 I have done.] And done well too! The person here meant is George, the eldest son of Alexander Seton, and second Earl of Huntley. He married Anabella, daughter of James I. Hence it is that he talks, in his opening speech, of "the piece of royalty that is stitched up in his Kate's blood." What authority the poet had for the histrionic character of this nobleman, I know not; but if the princely family of the Gordons ever numbered such a personage as this among their ancestors, let them be justly proud of him; for neither on the stage, nor in the great drama of life, will there be easily found a character to put in competition with him.

Daliell (for so Ford writes it) is also a noble fellow. There are two persons of that name, William and Robert Dalzell, grandsons of Sir John Dalzell, either of whom, from the date, might be meant for the character here introduced. Of the former nothing is recorded. The latter, Douglas says, was killed at Dumfries, in a skirmish between Maxwell and Crichton, July, 1508."

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You take off from the roughness of a father,
By so much more I am engaged to tender
The duty of a daughter. For respects
Of birth, degrees of title, and advancement,
I nor admire nor slight them; all my studies
Shall ever aim at this perfection only,

To live and die so, that you may not blush
In any course of mine to own me yours.

Hunt. Kate, Kate, thou grow'st upon my heart, like peace,

Creating every other hour a jubilee.

Kath. To you, my lord of Dalyell, I address
Some few remaining words: the general fame
That speaks your merit, even in vulgar tongues,
Proclaims it clear; but in the best, a precedent.
Hunt. Good wench, good girl, i̇’' faith!
Kath. For my part, trust me,

I value mine own worth at higher rate,
'Cause you are pleas'd to prize it: if the stream
Of your protested service (as you term it)
Run in a constancy, more than a compliment,
It shall be my delight, that worthy love

Leads you to worthy actions; and these guide you
Richly to wed an honourable name:

So every virtuous praise, in after-ages,

Shall be your heir, and I, in your brave mention, Be chronicled the mother of that issue,

That glorious issue.

Hunt. Oh, that I were young again!

She'd make me court proud danger, and suck spirit From reputation.

Kath. To the present motion,

Here's all that I dare answer: when a ripeness
Of more experience, and some use of time,
Resolves to treat the freedom of my youth
Upon exchange of troths, I shall desire
No surer credit of a match with virtue

Than such as lives in you; mean time, my hopes

are

Preser[v]'d secure, in having you a friend.

Dal. You are a blessed lady, and instruct
Ambition not to soar a farther flight,

Than in the perfum'd air of your soft voice.—
My noble lord of Huntley, you have lent
A full extent of bounty to this parley;

And for it shall command your humblest servant. Hunt. Enough: we are still friends, and will continue

A hearty love.-Oh, Kate! thou art mine own. No more;-my lord of Crawford.

Enter CRAWFord.“

Craw. From the king

I come, my lord of Huntley, who in council
Requires your present aid.

Hunt. Some weighty business?

Craw. A secretary from a duke of York,

• Enter Crawford.] This is probably (for I speak with great hesitation on the subject) John, second son of David, fourth Earl Crawford. If I am right in this conjecture, he stood in some kind of relationship to Huntley, his elder brother Alexander (dead at this period) having married Lady Jane Gordon, the earl's second daughter.

The second son to the late English Edward, Conceal'd, I know not where, these fourteen years, Craves audience from our master; and 'tis said The duke himself is following to the court.

Hunt. Duke upon duke! 'tis well, 'tis well; here's bustling

For majesty ;-my lord, I will along with you.
Craw. My service, noble lady.

Kath. Please you walk, sir?

Dal. "Times have their changes; sorrow makes men wise;

The sun itself must set as well as rise;"

Then, why not I? Fair madam, I wait on you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

London.-An Apartment in the Tower.

Enter the BISHOP OF DURHAM, SIR ROBERT CLIFFORD, and URSWICK.-Lights.

Dur. You find, Sir Robert Clifford, how se

curely

King Henry, our great master, doth commit

His person to your loyalty; you taste
His bounty and his mercy even in this;
That at a time of night so late, a place
So private as his closet, he is pleas'd
To admit you to his favour: do not falter
In your discovery; but as you covet
A liberal grace, and pardon for your follies,

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