_Ateu._ My zeale and ruth to see your graces wrong, Makes me lament, I did detract so long. 320 _K. of S._ If thou knowst thoughts, tell me what mean I now? _Ateu._ Ile calculate the cause of those your highnesse smiles, And tell your thoughts. _K. of S._ But least thou spend thy time in idlenesse, And misse the matter that my mind aimes at, Tell me what star was opposite when that was thought? He strikes him on the eare. _Ateu._ Tis inconuenient mightie Potentate, Whose lookes resembles _Ioue_ in Maiestie, To scorne the sooth of science with contempt, 330 I see in those imperiall lookes of yours, The whole discourse of loue, _Saturn_ combust, With direfull lookes at your natiuitie: Beheld faire _Venns_ in her siluer orbe, I know by certaine exiomies I haue read, Your graces griefs, & further can expresse her name, That holds you thus in fancies bands. _K. of S._ Thou talkest wonders. _Ateu._ Nought but truth O King, Tis _Ida_ is the mistresse of your heart, 340 Whose youth must take impression of affects, For tender twigs will bowe, and milder mindes Will yeeld to fancie be they followed well. _K. of S._ What god art thou composde in humane shape, Or bold _Trophonius_ to decide our doubts, How knowst thou this? _Ateu._ Euen as I know the meanes, To worke your graces freedome and your loue: Had I the mind as many Courtiers haue, To creepe into your bosome for your coyne, 350 And beg rewards for euery cap and knee, I then would say, if that your grace would giue This lease, this manor, or this pattent seald, For this or that I would effect your loue: But _Ateukin_ is no Parasite O Prince, I know your grace knowes schollers are but poore, And therefore as I blush to beg a fee, Your mightinesse is so magnificent You cannot chuse but cast some gift apart, To ease my bashfull need that cannot beg, 360 As for your loue, oh might I be imployd, How faithfully would _Ateukin_ compasse it: But Princes rather trust a smoothing tongue, Then men of Art that can accept the time. _K. of Scots._ _Ateu._ If so thy name, for so thou saist, Thine Art appeares in entrance of my loue: And since I deeme thy wisedom matcht with truth, I will exalt thee, and thy selfe alone Shalt be the Agent to dissolue my griefe. Sooth is, I loue, and _Ida_ is my loue, 370 But my new marriage nips me neare, _Ateukin_: For _Dorithea_ may not brooke th’abuse.