earmes.
But what course can you take to plague these dogges?

_Hat_. Why, buy up all the corne and make a dearth,
So thousands of them will die under stalles.

_Alf_. And send it unto forraine nations
To bring in toies to make the wealthy poore.

_Hat_. Or make our land beare woad[171] instead of wheate.

_Al_. Inclose the commons and make white meates deare.

_Hat_. Turne pasture into Park grounds and starve cattle,
Or twentie other honest thriving courses.
The meanest of these will beggar halfe a Kingdome.

_Al_. I have a commission drawne for making glasse.
Now if the Duke come, as I thinke he will,
Twill be an excellent meanes to lavish wood;
And then the cold will kill them, had they bread.

_Hat_. The yron Mills are excellent for that.
I have a pattent[172] drawne to that effect;
If they goe up, downe goes the goodly trees;
Ile make them search the earth to find new fire.

_Alf_. We two are brothers, and the Duke's our brother.
Shall we be brothers in Commission?
And Ile perswade him to authorize thee
His substitute in _Meath_, when he enjoyes it.

_Hat_. Death, Ile get thee Regent under him
In _Saxonie_, to oppresse as well as I.
And we will share the profits, live like Kings,
And yet seeme liberall in common things.

_Al_. Content: what, though the Rats devour'd our brother?
Was not a Prophet murdered by a Lyon?
King _Herod_ died of Lice, wormes doe eate us all;
The Rats are wormes, then let the Rats eate me.
Is the dead course prepar'd?

_Hat_. Embalm'd and coffin'd;
The Citie keyes delivered to my hands;
We stay but onely for his Excellence.

_Enter Constantine_.

_Con_. The Duke is comming, if it please your honors.

_Al_. And he is welcome; let the trumpets sound.

[_Second florish_.

_Enter Duke of Saxon, Euphrata, and Julia_.

_Hat_. Welcome, thrice welcome, our renowned brother.
Loe, at thy feete the Cittizens of _Meath_,
By us their Agents, do lay downe the keyes,
And[173] by this crownet and sword resign'd
The state Maiestique to your Princely hands,
Discended to you by our brothers death.

_Duke_. Then with your loves and persons we receive it.--
Is then our brother the Archbishop dead?

_Hat_. Too true, my Lord.

_Euph_. I am sorry for my Uncle.

_Hat_. And of a death so publique by reporte.

_Al_. Devour'd by Rats, in strange and wonderous sort.

_Duke_. Could not this palace seated in the _Rheine_,
In midst of the grea