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And be my love, I will advance thee high;
To dignify those hairs of amber hue,

I'll

grace them with a chaplet made of pearl, Set with choice rubies, sparks, and diamonds, Planted

Upon a velvet hood, to hide that head,
Wherein two sapphires burn like sparkling fire:
This will I do, fair Bettris, and far more,

If thou wilt love the lord of Doncaster.

BET. Heigh ho! my heart is in a higher place, Perhaps on the earl, if that be he.

*

See where he comes, or angry, or in love,

For why his colour looketh discontent.

Enter the EARL OF KENDAL and SIR NICHOLAS MANNERING.

KEN. Come, Nick, follow me.

BON. How now, my lord? what news?

KEN. Such news, Bonfield, as will make thee laugh,
And fret thy fill to hear how Nick was us'd:
Why, the Justices stand on their terms.
Nick, as you know, is haughty in his words:
He laid the law unto the Justices

With threatening braves, that one look'd on another,
Ready to stoop; but that a churl came in,
One George-a-Greene, the Pinner of the town,
And with his dagger drawn laid hands on Nick,
And by no beggars swore that we were traitors,
Rent our commission, and upon a brave
Made Nick to eat the seals, or brook the stab:
Poor Mannering, afraid, came posting hither straight.
BET. O lovely George, fortune be still thy friend!
And as thy thoughts be high, so be thy mind
In all accords even to thy heart's desire!

* Perhaps, &c.] This line (which seems to want a word) and the two following should perhaps be given to Bonfield.

BON. What says fair Bettris?

[Greene :

GRIME. My lord, she is praying for George-aHe is the man, and she will none but him.

BON. But him! why, look on me, my girl:
Thou know'st, that yesternight I courted thee,
And swore at my return to wed with thee.
Then tell me, love, shall I have all thy fair?*
BET. I care not for earl, nor yet for knight,
Nor baron that is so bold:

For George-a-Greene, the merry Pinner,
He hath my heart in hold.

BON. Bootless, my lord, are many vain replies. Let us hie us to Wakefield, and send her the Pinner's head.

KEN. It shall be so. Grime, gramercie,
Shut up thy daughter, bridle her affects,†
Let me not miss her when I make return;
Therefore look to her, as to thy life, good Grime.
GRIME. I warrant you, my lord.

KEN. And, Bettris,

Leave a base Pinner, for to love an earl.

[Exeunt Grime and Bettris.

Fain would I see this Pinner George-a-Greene.

It shall be thus;

Nick Mannering shall lead on the battle,

And we three will go to Wakefield in some disguise : But howsoever, I'll have his head to-day.

[Exeunt omnes.

Enter the KING OF SCOTS, LORD HUMES, with Soldiers, and JOHN.

K. JAMES. Why, Johny, then the earl of Kendal is blithe,

And hath brave men that troop along with him?

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JOHN. Ay marry, my liege,

And hath good men that come along with him,
And vows to meet you at Scrasblesea,* God willing.
K. JAMES. If good saint Andrew lend King Jamie
I will be with him at the 'pointed day. [leave,

But soft.

Enter [NED] Jane-a-Barley's Son.

Whose pretty boy art thou?
NED. Sir, I am son unto Sir John-a-Barley,
Eldest, and all that e'er my mother had;
Edward my name.

K. JAMES. And whither art thou going, pretty Ned? NED. To seek some birds, and kill them, if I can. And now my schoolmaster is also gone,

So have I liberty to ply my bow;

For when he comes, I stir not from my book.

K. JAMES. Lord Humes, but mark the visage of this child;

By him I guess the beauty of his mother:

None but Leda could breed Helena.

Tell me, Ned, who is within with thy mother? [sir;
NED. Nonet but herself and household servants,
If you would speak with her, knock at this gate.
K. JAMES. Johny, knock at that gate.

Enter JANE-A-BARLEY upon the walls.
JANE. O, I am betray'd! What multitudes be these?
K. JAMES. Fear not, fair Jane, for all these men
are mine,

And all thy friends, if thou be friend to me:

I am thy lover, James, the king of Scots,
That oft have su'd and woo'd with many letters,
Painting my outward passions with my pen,
Whenas my inward soul did bleed for woe.

* Scrasblesea] "Scrivelsby" or " Scamblesby."
+ None] The 4to." Not."

Little regard was given to my suit,

But haply thy husband's presence wrought it :
Therefore, sweet Jane, I fitted me to time,
And, hearing that thy husband was from home,
Am come to crave what long I have desir'd.
NED. Nay, soft you, sir, you get no entrance here,
That seek to wrong sir John-a-Barley so,
And offer such dishonour to my mother.
K. JAMES. Why, what dishonour, Ned?
NED. Though young,

Yet often have I heard my father say,
No greater wrong than to be made a cuckold.
Were I of age, or were my body strong,

Were he ten kings, I would shoot him to the heart,
That should attempt to give sir John the horn.
Mother, let him not come in;

I will go lie at Jockie Miller's house.

K. JAMES. Stay him.

JANE. Ay, well said, Ned, thou hast given the king

his answer;

For were the ghost of Cæsar on the earth,
Wrapp'd in the wonted glory of his honour,
He should not make me wrong my husband so.
But good King James is pleasant, as I guess,
And means to try what humour I am in;
Else would he never have brought an host of men,
To have them witness of his Scottish lust.
K. JAMES. Jane, in faith, Jane-
JANE. Never reply,

For I protest by the highest holy God,

That doometh just revenge for things amiss,

King James, of all men, shall not have my love.
K. JAMES. Then list to me; saint Andrew be my

boot,

But I'll raze thy castle to the very ground,
Unless thou open the gate, and let me in.

JANE. I fear thee not, King Jamie; do thy worst. This castle is too strong for thee to scale;

Besides, to-morrow will sir John come home.

K. JAMES. Well, Jane, since thou disdain'st king
James's love,

I'll draw thee on with sharp and deep extremes :
For by my
father's soul, this brat of thine

Shall perish here before thine

eyes,

Unless thou open the gate, and let me in.

JANE. O deep extremes! my heart begins to break. My little Ned looks pale for fear.

Cheer thee, my boy, I will do much for thee.

NED. But not so much as to dishonour me.
JANE. And if thou diest, I cannot live, sweet Ned.
NED. Then die with honour, mother, dying chaste.
JANE. I am arm'd.

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My husband's love, his honour, and his fame,
Join victory by virtue. Now, king James,
If mother's tears cannot allay thine ire,
Then butcher him, for I will never yield:
The son shall die, before I wrong the father.
K. JAMES. Why then he dies.

Alarum within. Enter a MESSENGER.
MESS. My lord, Musgrove is at hand.

K. JAMES. Who, Musgrove? The devil he is! Come, my horse. [Exeunt the King and his train. Enter old MUSGROVE, with King JAMES prisoner. Mus. Now, king James, thou art my prisoner. K. JAMES. Not thine, but fortune's prisoner.

Enter CUDDY.

CUD. Father, the field is ours;

Their colours we have seiz'd, and Humes is slain ; I slew him hand to hand.

* Join] The 4to. “Joynes."

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