_Edward_. Ah, that thou wert a witch, to make it so! _Derby_. The emperor greeteth you. _Edward_. Would it were the countess! _Derby_. And hath accorded to your highness' suit. _Edward_. Thou liest, she hath not: But I would she had! _Audley_. All love and duty to my lord the king! Edward. _Well, all but one is none_:--What news with you? _Audley_. I have, my liege, levied those horse and foot, According to your charge, and brought them hither. _Edward_. Then let those foot trudge hence upon those horse According to their discharge, and begone.-- _Derby_. I'll look upon the countess' mind Anon. _Derby_. The countess' mind, my liege? _Edward_. I mean, the emperor:--Leave me alone. _Audley_. What's in his mind? _Derby_. Let's leave him to his humour. [_Exeunt_ DERBY and AUDLEY _Edward_. Thus from the heart's abundance speaks the tongue Countess for emperor: And indeed, why not? She is as _imperator_ over me; And I to her Am as a kneeling vassal, that observes The pleasure or displeasure of her eye. In this little scene there is perhaps on the whole more general likeness to Shakespeare's earliest manner than we can trace in any other passage of the play. But how much of Shakespeare's earliest manner may be accounted the special and exclusive property of Shakespeare? After this dismissal of the two nobles, the pimping poeticule, Villon manque or (whom shall we call him?) reussi, reappears with a message to Caesar (as the King is pleased to style himself) from "the more than Cleopatra's match" (as he designates the Countess), to intimate that "ere night she will resolve his majesty." Hereupon an unseasonable "drum within" provokes Edward to the following remonstrance: What drum is this, that thunders forth this march, To start the tender Cupid in my bosom? Poor sheepskin, how it brawls with him that beateth it! Go, break the thundering parchment bottom out, And I will teach it to conduct sweet lines ("That's bad; _conduct sweet lines_ is bad.")