_Bacon._ I tell thee, monarch, all the German peers Could not afford thy entertainment such, So royal and so full of majesty, As Bacon will present to Frederick. The basest waiter that attends thy cups Shall be in honours greater than thyself; And for thy cates, rich Alexandria drugs,[217] Fetch'd by carvels from Ægypt's richest straits, Found in the wealthy strand of Africa, Shall royalize the table of my king; Wines richer than th' Ægyptian courtesan Quaff'd to Augustus' kingly countermatch, Shall be carous'd in English Henry's feast; Candy shall yield the richest of her canes; Persia, down her Volga by canoes, Send down the secrets of her spicery; The Afric dates, mirabolans[218] of Spain, Conserves, and suckets[219] from Tiberias, Cates from Judæa, choicer that the lamp That firèd Rome with sparks of gluttony, Shall beautify the board for Frederick: And therefore grudge not at a friar's feast. SCENE III.--_At Fressingfield._ _Enter_ LAMBERT _and_ SERLSBY _with the_ Keeper. _Lam._ Come, frolic Keeper of our liege's game, Whose table spread hath other venison And jacks of wines to welcome passengers, Know I'm in love with jolly Margaret, That overshines our damsels as the moon Darkeneth the brightest sparkles of the night. In Laxfield here my land and living lies: I'll make thy daughter jointer of it all, So thou consent to give her to my wife; And I can spend five-hundred marks a year. _Serl._ I am the lands-lord, Keeper, of thy holds, By copy all thy living lies in me; Laxfield did never see me raise my due: I will enfeoff fair Margaret in all, So she will take her to a lusty squire. _Keep._ Now, courteous gentles, if the Keeper's girl Hath pleas'd the liking fancy of you both, And with her beauty hath subdu'd your thoughts, 'Tis doubtful to decide the question. It joys me that such men of great esteem Should lay their liking on this base estate, And that her state should grow so fortunate To be a wife to meaner men than you: But sith such squires will stoop to keeper's fee, I will, to avoid displeasure of you both, Call Margaret forth, and she shall make her choice. _Lam._ Content, Keeper; send her unto us. [_Exit_ Keeper. Why, Serlsby, is thy wife so lately dead, Are all thy loves so lightly passèd over, As thou canst wed before the year be out? _Serl._ I live not, Lambert, to content the dead, Nor was I wedded but for life to her: The grave ends and begins a married state. _Enter_ MARGARET. _Lam._ Peggy, the lovely flower of all towns, Suffolk's fair Helen, and rich England's star, Whose beauty, temper'd with her huswifery, Makes England talk of merry Fressingfield!