kfasts gott
Hurlye burlye, snatcht with like greedynes,
I & allmost disjested too as soone.

_Oli_. I, but in sober sadness whatts done there?

_Bus_. 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 and merryt starves in courte.

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

_Bus_. Trothe, I wonderd, Sir,
You spoke 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 know thee much too honest; but how fares
The Empresse now, my dear exequetresse?

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

_Rei_. What, has she a chylde, then?

_Bus_. I, my Lord.

_Orl_. A Sonne!

_Bus_. Mys-fortune hath 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? Why, if she had been spayd
And all mankynd made Euenucks, yet in spyghte
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 objecte.

_Bus_. Sir, be at peace;
Much may be found by observatyon.

_Orl_. Th'arte bothe unfriendlie & uncharytable.
Thys observation thou advysest to
Would ryvett so my thoughts uppon my fate
That I should be distrackt. I can observe
Naughte but varyetye of mysseries
Crossynge my byrthe, my blood and best endevours.
I neare did good for any but great _Charles_,
And the meare doing that hath still brought forth
To me some plague too heavye to be borne,
But that I am reservd onlye to teach
The studyed envye of mallignant starrs.
If fortune be blynde, as the poetts houlde,
It is with studyinge myne afflictions;
But, for her standing on a roullinge stone,
Theire learninge faylls them, for she fixed stands
And onlye against me.

_Rei_. Move hym no further;
But if your observatyon can fynde out
A coneinge in the carryadge of theise ills
That may be questioned, Ile thanke your love,
And be your servant: pray be inquisitive.

_Orl_. Inquiseytive? for what