now, my lords? howe speede your noble plotts?
What, have you woone younge _Richard_ from hys frend?
Tell me whose eloquence hathe doone the deede
And I will honor hym.

_Oli_. He hathe forborne th'incounter, and in that
Hathe drownd us in amazement: we suppose
Our plotts discoverd.

_Orl_. No more, keepe backe the rest,
For I can read misfortunes in your browes.
Vengeance consume theise projects! they are basse,
And bassnes ever more doth second theym;
The noble youthe smyle[s] at our follyes, nay,
Scornes the base languadge that you uttered,
Which is by thys tyme with the emperoure.
O twas a speedinge way to doe us shame!

_Rei_. Take truce with passyon: I dare bouldlye sweare
There is some other mysterye.

_Oli_. At worst
Ile make it for our purposse every way
And even kill the soule of _Ganelon_.
With talkinge of the cowardyse, so that you
Houlde patyence for a mynute.

_Orl_. Patyence!
Preache it to cynicks or greene sycknes gyrles
That have not blood enough to make a blushe
Or forme an acte might cause one. I have longe
Like to a reelinge pynetree shooke the earthe
That I was rooted in, but nowe must fall
And be no longer the fatts tennys ball.

_Rei_. Come be more temperd, you shall see from thys
Sprynge pleasure that you wishe for. _Olyver_
Shall instantlye upbrayd false _Ganelon_
With _Rychards_ muche unworthynes.

_Oli_. Thats decreed
For in such tearms I meane to sett hym fourthe
As shall even burst hys gall with agonye:
Nay, it shall make hym never darre t'apeare
Where men resorte, or knowe ought but hys feare.

_Orl_. You have lardge promysses, but acts as slowe
As dyalls hands that are not seene to goe.

[_Exeunt_.

[SCENE 3.]

_Enter Didier with a letter_.

_Did_. My cares & feares are past, but _Ganelons_
Thys letter woulde revyve if t'were reveald,
Nay begett newe ones to hym of suche wayghte
That he must synke beneathe theym. Thys I founde
(Mongst other thyngs) in haplesse _Richards_ pockett
When I interrd hym, subscribd by _Ganelon_,
Whereby's owne hand would leade hym to the blocke
Should I discover it; for heres contaynd
The kyngs abuse & _Gabriellas_ whoreinge.
But I am nowe beforehand: to hym selfe
Ile give thys letter; so begett[101] in hym
A fyrme beleife of myne integrytie
Which nowe goes upryghte, does not halte betweene
Preferment & disgrace; for, come what will,
I am all _Ganelons_ & wilbe styll.

_Ente