nall
Can by the Physicke of Philosophy
Set al agen in order. Leave us, pray.

[_Exeunt_.

_Card_. How is it with you, Sir?

_King_. As with a Shippe
Now beat with stormes, now safe the stormes are vanisht;
And having you my Pylot I not onely
See shore but harbour. I to you will open
The booke of a blacke sinne deepe-printed in me.
Oh, father, my disease lyes in my soule.

_Card_. The old wound, Sir?

_King_. Yes, that; it festers inward:
For though I have a beauty to my bed
That even Creation envies at, as wanting
Stuffe to make such another, yet on her pillow
I lye by her but an Adulterer
And she as an Adulteresse. Shee's my Queene
And wife, yet but my strumpet, tho the Church
Set on the seale of Mariage: good _Onaelia_,
Neece to our Lord high Constable of Spaine,
Was precontracted mine.

_Card_. Yet when I stung
Your Conscience with remembrance of the Act,
Your eares were deafe to counsell.

_King_. I confesse it.

_Card_. Now to unty the knot with your new Queene
Would shake the Crowne halfe from your head.

_King_. Even Troy
(Tho she hath wept her eyes out) wud find teares
To wayle my kingdomes ruines.

_Card_. What will you doe then?

_King_. She has that Contract written, seal'd by you
And other Churchmen (witnesses untoo't).
A kingdome should be given for that paper.

_Card_. I wud not, for what lyes beneath the Moone,
Be made a wicked Engine to breake in pieces
That holy Contract.

_King_. 'Tis my soules ayme to tye it
Vpon a faster knot.

_Card_. I do not see
How you can with safe conscience get it from her.

_King_. Oh, I know
I wrastle with a Lyonesse: to imprison her
And force her too't I dare not. Death! what King
Did ever say I dare not? I must have it.
A Bastard have I by her; and that Cocke
Will have (I feare) sharpe spurres, if he crow after
Him that trod for him. Something must be done
Both to the Henne and Chicken: haste you therefore
To sad _Onaelia_; tell her I'm resolv'd
To give my new Hawke bells and let her flye;
My Queene I'm weary of and her will marry.
To this our Text adde you what glosse you please;
The secret drifts of Kings are depthlesse Seas.

[_Exeunt_.

(SCENE 2.)

_A Table set out cover'd with blacke: two waxen tapers:
the Kings Picture at one end, a Crucifix at the othe