wanton!

_Bus_.--As the Bishopp is costyve in hys begging. Twere a myrackle
should he aske nothynge. Let me see: does no bodye stande in his way to
be removed? (thanks to heaven my father is shrunke allreadye) or does
not somebodye stand toe farre of that a would draw nearer. Somewhat
there must be.

_Char_. How now, cossen, what says _La Busse_?

_Bus_. Marrye, my lorde, I say if you should give half the libertye of
begginge to a courtyer of myne acquayntance that you gave to the
Byshopp, you would be beggd out of your whole kyngdome in a cople of
mynuts.

_Char_. Like enough, for thy acquayntance are foule beggarlye
companyons; yet would thy father had thy vertue.--But, sweete frend,
Assure thy selfe th'ast fyxte my resolutyon
As fyrme as destenye, and I will give
All satisfactyon to the Palladyne.

_Tur_. It wilbe royall in you.

_Enter Ganelon_.

_Char_. Kysse me, sweete.--O you are wellcome; stand up.
And howe does thys retyred life agree
With _Ganelon_?

_Gan_. As _Ganelon_ with it,
Most desolatlye, sir. I have induerd
Subjection to my fate since last I sawe you;
In all which haplesse bondage I have gaynd
[Not one] howers comforte tyll twas dooblye yearnd
Synce fyrst I knewe what sleepe and wakinge mente
I never slepte in quyett nor awakt
But with a hartye wishe to sleepe my last.
Not a pore simple jest hathe made me smyle
Tyll I had payd the tribute of my cares
Over and over. Fortune has opposd
My naturall blessings and my wishest ends;
Those verye honors which my byrthright claymes
Have cost me more vexatyon to preserve
Than all the numerous tyttells of a kynge
Purchasd with plauge and famyne; yet in all
My days of sorrowe I was styll to learne
A suffrynge of that impyous accounte
Which nowe afflycts me.

_Char_. O you are conynge.

_Tur_. Yes, and may teach the worlde to counterfayte.

_Enter Orlando, Reinaldo and Oliver_.

But here comes the earle of _Angeres_.

_Char_. Nephewe, y'are discontented and I woulde
Give all rights to your honor, which did cause
Me latelye thus to send for you.

_Orl_. Tys true,
You sent unto me, sir, and I obayd
And came: but then, Sir, what became of me?
You sente me presentlye away for _Spayne_.
Nay, never frowne, I doe remember thys
As well methynks as if it hapned nowe.

_Char_. Your memoryes toe blame; you doe mistake.

_Orl_. O that I could mistake or never thynke
Uppon thys daylie terror to my sence.
Sir, tys a thyng I labour to mys