_Ateu._ Oh then my liege, how happie art thou growne, 1830 How fauoured of the heauens, and blest by loue: Mee thinkes I see faire _Ida_ in thine armes, Crauing remission for her late attempt, Mee thinke I see her blushing steale a kisse: Vniting both your soules by such a sweete, And you my King suck Nectar from her lips. Why then delaies your grace to gaine the rest You long desired? why loose we forward time? Write, make me spokesman now, vow marriage, If she deny your fauour let me die. 1840 _Andr._ Mightie and magnificent potentate, giue credence to mine honorable good Lord, for I heard the Midwife sweare at his natiuitie, that the Faieries gaue him the propertie of the Thracian stone, for who toucheth it, is exempted from griefe, and he that heareth my Maisters counsell, is alreadle possessed of happinesse: nay which is more myraculous, as the Noble man in his infancie lay in his Cradle, a swarme of Bees laid honey on his lippes, in token of his eloquence. _For melle dulcier fluit oratio._ _Ateu._ Your grace must beare with imperfections: 1850 This is exceeding loue that makes him speake. _K. of S._ _Ateukin_ I am rauisht in conceit, And yet deprest againe with earnest thoughts, Me thinkes this murther soundeth in mine eare, A threatning noyse of dire and sharp reuenge. I am incenst with greefe, yet faine would ioy, What may I do to end me of these doubts? _Ateu._ Why Prince it is no murther in a King, To end an others life to saue his owne, For you are not as common people bee. 1860 Who die and perish with a fewe mans teares, But if you faile, the state doth whole default The Realme is rent in twaine, in such alosse, And _Aristotle_ holdeth this for true, Of euills needs we must chuse the least, Then better were it, that a woman died, Then all the helpe of _Scotland_ should be blent, Tis pollicie my liege, in euerie state, To cut off members that disturbe the head. And by corruption generation growes. 1870 And contraries maintaine the world and state.