yllman
And hated of hys father for hys vertues.

_Buf_. Healthe and all blessinge wherewith heauen and earthe
May comforte man, wayte on your excellence!

_Orl_. Although I know no mans good wyshe or prayrs
Can ere be heard to my desyred good,
I am not so voyde of humanytie
But I will thancke your loue.

_Rei_. Pray, Sir, what newse
Hath the courte latterly beene deliverd of?

_Buf_. Such as the gallymaufry that is fownd
In her large wombe may promise: he that has
The fayrest vertues weares the foulest shyrte
And knowes no shyfte for't: none but journeymen preists
Invay agaynst plurallytie of liueinge
And they grow hoarse ithe cause, yet are without
The remedye of sugar candye for't.
Offices are like huntinge breakfasts gott
Hurlye burlye, snatcht with like greedynes,
I & allmost disjested too assoone.

_Oli[ver]_. I, but in sober sadnes whatts doone there?

_Buf_. Faythe, very littill, Sir, in sober sadnes,
For there disorder hurryes perfect thyngs
To mere confussyon; nothing there hath forme
But that which spoyles all forme, & to be shorte
Vice only thrives & merrytt starves in courte.

_Rei_. What of the maryadge of your noble aunte
Oure fayre eied royall empresse?

_Buf_. Trothe I wonderd, Sir,
You spooke of that no sooner, yet I hope
None here are jealyous that I brought one sparke
To kyndell that ill flame.

_Orl_. No, of my trothe,
I knowe thee much too honest; but how fares
The Empresse now, my dear exequetresse?

_Buf_. Sir, as a woman in her casse may doe;
Shee's broughte [to] bedd.

_Rei_. What, has she a chylde then?

_Buf_. I, my Lord.

_Orl_. A Sonne?

_Buf_. Mys-fortune hathe inspyrd you, Sir; tys true.

_Orl_. Nay when my fortune faylls me at a pynche
I will thynke blasphemy a deede of merrytt.
--O harte, will nothing breake the?

_Rei_. Tis most straunge.

_Orl_. Straunge? not a whytt. Why, if she had beene spayd
And all mankynd made Euenucks, yet in spyght
My ill fate would have gotten her with chylde--
Of a son too. Hencefourthe let no man
That hathe a projecte he dothe wishe to thryve
Ere let me knowe it. My mere knowledge in't
Would tourne the hope't successe to an event
That would fryghte nature, & make patyence braule
With the most pleasinge obiecte.