A Select Collection of Old English Plays: Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the year 1744
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays: Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the year 1744
English drama
I thank you both, entire friends, with my honour still remain.
AMBIDEXTER.
Behold, where the king doth come with his train.
_Enter_ KING _and one_ LORD.
KING.
O lording dear, and brother mine,
I joy your state to see;
Surmising much what is the cause,
You absent thus from me.
SMIRDIS.
Pleaseth your grace, no absence I,
But ready to fulfil
At all assays, my prince and king,
In that your grace me will:
What I can do in true defence,
To you, my prince, aright,
In readiness I always am
To offer forth my might.
KING.
And I the like to you again
Do here avouch the same.
ALL.
For this your good agreement here,
Now praised be God’s name.
AMBIDEXTER.
But hear ye, noble prince; hark in your ear:
It is best to do as I did declare.
KING.
My lord and brother Smirdis now,
This is my mind and will,
That you to court of mine return,
And there to tarry still,
Till my return within short space
Your honour for to greet.
SMIRDIS.
At your behest so will I do,
Till time again we meet:
My leave I take from you (O king);
Even now I do depart.
[_Exeunt_ SMIRDIS, ATTENDANCE, _and_ DILIGENCE.
KING.
Farewell lord and brother mine,
Farewell with all my heart.
My lord, my brother Smirdis is
Of youth and manly might;
And in his sweet and pleasant face
My heart doth take delight.
LORD.
Yea, noble prince, if that your grace
Before his honour die,
He will succeed a virtuous king,
And rule with equity.
KING.
As you have said, my lord, he is
Chief heir next my grace:
And if I die to-morrow, next
He shall succeed my place.
AMBIDEXTER.
And if it please your grace (O king),
I heard him say,
For your death unto the god[s,]
Day and night he did pray:
He would live so virtuously,
And get him such a praise,
That Fame by trump his due deserts
His honour should up-raise.
He said your grace deserved had
The cursing of all men;
That ye should never after him
Get any praise again.
KING.
Did he speak thus of my grace,
In such despiteful wise?
Or else dost thou presume to fill
My princely ears with lies?
LORD.
I cannot think it in my heart,
That he would report so.
KING.
How sayst thou? speak the truth,
Was it so or no?
AMBIDEXTER.
I think so, if it please your grace, but I cannot tell.
KING.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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