A King, and No King - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Pan_.
Good _Bacurius_.
[_Exeunt_ Bes. _and_ Bac.
_Gob_.
Madam what writes his Majesty to you?
_Pan_.
O my Lord, the kindest words, I'le keep 'em whilst I live, here in my bosom, there's no art in 'em, they lie disordered in this paper, just as hearty nature speaks 'em.
_Gob_.
And to me he writes what tears of joy he shed to hear how you were grown in every vertues way, and yields all thanks to me, for that dear care which I was bound to have in training you, there is no Princess living that enjoys a brother of that worth.
_Pan_.
My Lord, no maid longs more for any thing, And feels more heat and cold within her breast, Than I do now, in hopes to see him.
_Gob_.
Yet I wonder much At this he writes, he brings along with him A husband for you, that same Captive Prince, And if he loves you as he makes a shew, He will allow you freedom in your choice.
_Pan_.
And so he will my Lord, I warrant you, he will but offer and give me the power to take or leave.
_Gob_.
Trust me, were I a Lady, I could not like that man were bargain'd with before I choose him.
_Pan_.
But I am not built on such wild humours, if I find him worthy, he is not less because he's offer'd.
_Spa_.
'Tis true, he is not, would he would seem less.
_Gob_.
I think there's no Lady can affect Another Prince, your brother standing by; He doth Eclipse mens vertues so with his.
_Spa_.
I know a Lady may, and more I fear Another Lady will.
_Pan_.
Would I might see him.
_Gob_.
Why so you shall, my businesses are great, I will attend you when it is his pleasure to see you.
_Pan_.
I thank you good my Lord.
_Gob_.
You will be ready Madam.
[_Exit Gob_.
_Pan_.
Yes.
_Spa_.
I do beseech you Madam, send away Your other women, and receive from me A few sad words, which set against your joyes May make 'em s.h.i.+ne the more.
_Pan_.
Sirs, leave me all.
[_Exeunt Women_.
_Spa_.
I kneel a stranger here to beg a thing Unfit for me to ask, and you to grant, 'Tis such another strange ill-laid request, As if a begger should intreat a King To leave his Scepter, and his Throne to him And take his rags to wander o're the world Hungry and cold.
_Pan_.
That were a strange request.
_Spa_.
As ill is mine.
_Pan_. Then do not utter it.
_Spa_.
Alas 'tis of that nature, that it must Be utter'd, I, and granted, or I die: I am asham'd to speak it; but where life Lies at the stake, I cannot think her woman
