hat next solycytts me for _Ganelon_.

_Bus_. O doe not make me, sir, be impyous,
For shoulde your breathe crushe me to attomyes,
Yet whylst my memorye can call hym father
I must invocke you for hym.

_Char_. Which to prevent
Take my last resolutyon, & from it
Swearve not in thyne alleagance: when thou shalt
Meete me uppon a way was never usd
By horse nor man, and thou thy selfe dost ryde
On neyther horsse, mare, asse, & yet thy beast
An usuall thynge for burthen, thou thy selfe
Neyther uncloathd nor naked, & shalt brynge
Thy greatest frend & greatest enemye
Coopld for thy companyons; then I vowe
To doe thy father honor, but tyll then
My mallyce hangs about hym.--Come, coossen, attend us.

[_Exe. Char., Rich_.

_Bus_. Then dye, pore _Ganelon_. When I shall meete
The kynge on no hye way, when I shall ryde
Uppon no beast & yet a beast of burthen,
Be neyther nakt nor cloathed, in my hande
My greatest frende & greatest enemye;
And but then get his favor. There is no sphynxe
That can absolve thys ryddell: well, tys decreed
Ile breake my brayne but Ile performe the deede.

_Did_. Sir, would it were in me to helpe your fortune.

_Bus_. It was in you to bringe us to thys fortune.
But I am charmd from anger: onlye thus
My father badd me tell you that he hathe
Not many howers to live, & dothe desyer
To parte in peace with all men, even with you
Whom he hathe nowe forgiven hartylie;
And if you please to vissytt him you may
Fynde love without captitulatyon [sic].

_Did_. Sir, Ile attend hym. [_Ex. La Busse_.
Yet I've heard a tale
Of a feirce snake that wounded by a swayne
Rememberd it for twentye yeares together
And at the last revendgd it; so may he.
I, but another tale tells of an asse
Which haveinge throwne hys cruell ryder wente
In pyttie to the surgeon, who recurd
The sycklie man & reconcyld the asse.
Why may not _Ganelon_ be like the asse
And thys fayre messadge like the curynge surgeon?
Ile trye it; synce _Orlando_ is unsuer,
Tys _Ganelon_ from whence may come my cure.

[_Ex. Didier_.

[SCENE 2.]

_Enter Ganelon, Eldegrad & Gabriella_.

_Gan_. Good mother, syster, deare spyrrytts, doe not haunte me:
I will not from eternytie beleive
That _Richard_ is unfaythfull.

_Eld_. No, runne on,
Swallowe thy shames like full bytts tyll they choake you
And make the people prophesye that you
Shal