Hel. I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiest That I protest, I simply am a Maide: Please it your Maiestie, I haue done already: The blushes in my cheekes thus whisper mee, We blush that thou shouldst choose, but be refused; Let the white death sit on thy cheeke for euer, Wee'l nere come there againe King. Make choise and see, Who shuns thy loue, shuns all his loue in mee Hel. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly, And to imperiall loue, that God most high Do my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite? 1.Lo. And grant it Hel. Thankes sir, all the rest is mute Ol.Laf. I had rather be in this choise, then throw Ames-ace for my life Hel. The honor sir that flames in your faire eyes, Before I speake too threatningly replies: Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue Her that so wishes, and her humble loue 2.Lo. No better if you please Hel. My wish receiue, Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue Ol.Laf. Do all they denie her? And they were sons of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them to'th Turke to make Eunuches of Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand should take, Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake: Blessing vpon your vowes, and in your bed Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed Old Laf. These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the French nere got em La. You are too young, too happie, and too good To make your selfe a sonne out of my blood 4.Lord. Faire one, I thinke not so Ol.Lord There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already Hel. I dare not say I take you, but I giue Me and my seruice, euer whilst I liue Into your guiding power: This is the man King. Why then young Bertram take her shee's thy wife Ber. My wife my Leige? I shal beseech your highnes In such a busines, giue me leaue to vse The helpe of mine owne eies King. Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha's done for mee? Ber. Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know why I should marrie her King. Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sickly bed Ber. But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe Must answer for your raising? I knowe her well: Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge: A poore Physitians daughter my wife? Disdaine Rather corrupt me euer