_Gab_. Suer thys should be the day of _Valentyne_ When everye byrd dothe coople, onlye I Pore forlorne turtle, haveinge lost my mate, Must dye on a bare braunche. Wytt defend me! Youthe & my pleasures will not suffer it. I've here contryved a letter to my frende In myne ill brothers name. It may worke Somethynge to gayne my wishes; at the worst It cannot make me more then I am accurst. And heres my messenger.-- _Enter La Fue_. Howe nowe Mounseir _Fue_? Whyther gost thou in suche a sweatinge passyon? _Fue_. O, Madam, sweatynge is goode for the itche, and the rascall _Didier_ haveing playd the roague with my lord ist possyble but I should itche to be about hys eares when I see the knaves countenance? Therefore to avoyde troble I affect sweatinge. _Gab_. Why, thou dost not see hym nor art thou licklye. _Fue_. O by all meanes I cannot mysse the devyll. Why, I am goeing to the courte, Madam, & the knave wilbe in everye corner, _Didier_ I meane, by all meanes; so that if I doe not sweate I shall scratche the skynne from myne elbowes. _Gab_. Then to further your sweatinge take paynes with thys letter; tell noble _Richard_, the sonne of _Aimon_, your master sente it, but doe not tell your master I imployd you. Take this rewarde and deale wiselye. _Fue_. As wisely as my blewe coate will suffer me. [_Exe_. _Act 4_. [SCENE I.] _Enter Richard readinge a letter_. _Rich. [Read] Myne enemyes have labord much, but my worst afflyctyon is thy lamented absence which may endanger us alyke. There is no means to prevent all evyls but the injoyinge of my sister Gabriella: therefore force in thy selfe an affectyon. She may otherwise growe discontent and trooble us with her mallyce. Therefore preserve thy selfe and me together, who am thy best on earthe: Ganelon_. Thys letter sente me by my dearest frende Like spells and witchcraft dothe amaze my brayne. He urdges me to love where a dothe knowe I can by no meanes fancye; yet tys so, Our safties doe compell it, & to that I must of force bowe, teachinge my harde harte To seme most softe when tys most hard[e]ned. _Enter Turpin_. _Tur_. Where is pryncelye _Richard_? _Ric_. Here, reverend lorde. _Tur_. The kynge comands your presence, O deare Sir, I am orejoyd in your most brave advauncments. Why, you are now the fayrest stare[94] in _Fraunce_. _Rich_. I doe not understand your reverence. _Tur_. The emperour will make my meanyng playne. ... ... ... day Cunstable of _Fraunce_, Countye _Poyteirs_, marquysse of _Sallun_, And grand le seignior of the ordnance. _Ric_. Theise are the dignities of noble _Ganelon_! _Tur_. But these shall all be _Richards_. _Ric_. Heaven forbydd! I will not weare the garments of my frende. _Tur_. O doe not say so; they are forfayted roabs And never did become hys policie. _Ric_. Good Sir, be charytable. _Tur_. Indeede I am, But thys dothe least concerne me. Sir, I knowe The emperoure expects you.