,
Will you not take advantage of thys plott?

_Orl_. No; what advauntage? the emperour's eares are glewed
Gaynst althyngs but hys passyons.

_Did_. Great Sir, no;
The vyolence of hys passyon notwithstandinge,
Havinge hys deathe-slayne mistres in hys armes,
He heares all causes criminall as if
She did but slumber by hym.

_Oli_. Tys an offerd meanes
To bringe your foe in hatred with the emperour
Revyve your hopes.

_Orl_. As cordyalls doe call backe
A dyinge man from hys aproachynge peace
To make h[im suffer] still the mysseryes
Of hys allmost past sycknes. I reffuse it,
And by my suffrynge nowe will shewe my selfe
Too noble to complayne. I neare coulde fynde
Pleasure or ease in others punishment,
Or if I were so base to take delighte
In the afflyctions of another man
My fate would guard me from't, for tys decreed
That onlye I of all mankynde shall neare
Be master of a hope shall have successe:
So all the opposytion I can make
Would onlye make my greives rydiculous
And dyvorce pyttye from theym. Neare will I.
[_Ex. Orlando_.

_Did_. Heres a straunge humor!

_Oli_. I, but let it not
Deterre you from hys accusatyon.

_Did_. Ile justefye what I have sayd.

_Rei_. Doe so,
And bothe myne entertaynment and rewarde
Shall pay thy love and faythe.

[_Ex. all but Didier_.

_Did_. I doe not like
Thys entertaynment at the second hande:
It looks like barbers physicke, muddylie.
Is thys a welcome worthye of the love
I have exprest? Had I tooke up hys hauke
Or matcht a coatch-horse for hym suche a servyce
Had deserved more respect then he gives me.
I like a wise man have lefte certayne meanes,
For hop't preferments: 'twas dyscreetlye doone
And ledd by vertue too. Thys vertue is
The scurvyest, harlottryest, undoeinge thynge
That ever mixte with rysinge courtyers thoughts.
But t'has a cursse. It is impossyble
Ere to gett into _Ganelon_ agayne,
Havinge not onlye not performd hys will
But tould hys purpose. And howe slyghte so ere
The earle of _Angeres_ houlds thys accusatyon,
T'will be examynd: therefore I must throughe--
But howe? thoughe it be true I cannot prove it
By other testymonie then myne owne;
And that hys owne denyall will bereave me
Of the beleife due to it. Yet will I stand too't styll:
To deter vyce heaven gives a power to will.

_Enter Ganelon_.

_Gan_. Y'are well mett.

_Did_. I thanke you.

_Gan_. Th'art a vyllayne.

_Did_. It ma