s I sweare.

_Onae_. Oh you have sworne false oathes upon that booke.

_King_. Why, then by this.

_Onae_. Take heed you print it deeply.
How for your concubine (Bride, I cannot say)?
She staines your bed with black Adultery;
And though her fame maskes in a fairer shape
Then mine to the worlds eye, yet (King) you know
Mine honour is less strumpetted than hers,
However butcher'd in opinion.

_King_. This way for her: the contract (which thou hast)
By best advice of all our Cardinals
To day shall be enlarg'd till it be made
Past all dissolving: then to our Counsell-Table
Shall she be call'd, that read aloud, she told
The Church commands her quicke returne for _Florence_,
With such a dower as _Spaine_ received with her;
And that they will not hazard heavens dire curse
To yeeld to a match unlawfull, which shall taint
The issue of the King with Bastardy.
This done, in State Majestic come you forth
(Our new-crown'd Queene) in sight of all our Peeres.
--Are you resolv'd?

_Onae_. To doubt of this were Treason
Because the King has sworne it.

_King_. And will keepe it.
Deliver up the Contract then, that I
May make this day end with my misery.

_Onae_. Here, as the dearest Jewell of my fame,
Lock'd I this parchment from all viewing eyes;
This your Indenture held alone the life
Of my suppos'd dead honour: yet (behold)
Into your hands I redeliver it.
Oh keepe it, Sir, as you should keepe that vow
To which (being sign'd by Heaven) even Angels bowe.

_King_. 'Tis in the Lions pawe, and who dares snatch it?
Now to your Beads and Crucifix agen.

_Onae_. Defend me, heaven!

_King_. Pray there may come Embassadors from _France_:
Their followers are good Customers.

_Onae_. Save me from madnesse!

_King_. 'Twill raise the price being the Kings Mistris.

_Onae_. You doe but counterfeit to mocke my joyes.

_King_. Away, bold strumpet.

_Onae_. Are there eyes in heaven to see this?

_King_. Call and try: here's a whore curse,
To fall in that beleefe which her sunnes nurse.
[_Exit_.

_Enter Cornego_.

_Corn_. How now? what quarter of the Moone has she cut out now? My Lord
puts me into a wise office, to be a mad womans keeper! Why, Madam?

_Onae_. Ha! where is the King, thou slave?

_Corn_. Let go your hold or I'le fall upon you, as I am a man.

_Onae_. Thou treacherous caitiffe, where's the King?

_Corn