A King, and No King Part 58

_Lig_.

Madam I should have scene you.

_Spa_.

O good Sir forgive me.

_Lig_.

Forgive you, why I am no kin to you, am I?

_Spa_.

Should it be measur'd by my meane deserts, Indeed you are not.

_Lig_.

Thou couldst prate unhappily Ere thou couldst goe, would thou couldst doe as well.

And how does your custome hold out here. _Spa_. Sir.

_Lig_.

Are you in private still, or how?

_Spa_.

What doe you meane?

_Lig_.

Doe you take money? are you come to sell sinne yet? perhaps I can helpe you to liberall Clients: or has not the King cast you off yet? O thou wild creature, whose best commendation is, that thou art a young Wh.o.r.e. I would thy Mother had liv'd to see this: or rather would I had dyed ere I had seene it: why did'st not make me acquainted when thou wert first resolv'd to be a Wh.o.r.e? I would have seene thy hot l.u.s.t satisfied more privately. I would have kept a dancer, and a whole consort of Musitions in mine owne house, onely to fiddle thee. _Spa_.

Sir I was never wh.o.r.e.

_Lig_.

If thou couldst not say so much for thy selfe thou shouldst be Carted.

_Tig._

_Ligones_ I have read it, and like it, You shall deliver it.

_Lig_.

Well Sir I will: but I have private busines with you.

_Tig_.

Speake, what ist?

_Lig_.

How has my age deserv'd so ill of you, That you can picke no strumpets in the Land, But out of my breed.

_Tig_.

Strumpets good _Ligones_?

_Lig_.

Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorne To get a Wh.o.r.e for any Prince alive, And yet scorne will not helpe me thinkes: My daughter Might have beene spar'd, there were enough beside.

_Tig_.

May I not prosper, but Shee's innocent As morning light for me, and I dare sweare For all the world.

_Lig_.

Why is she with you then?

Can she waite on you better then your men, Has she a gift in plucking off your stockings, Can she make Cawdles well, or cut your Comes, Why doe you keepe her with you? For your Queene I know you doe contemne her, so should I And every Subject else thinke much at it.

_Tig_.

Let um thinke much, but tis more firme then earth Thou seest thy Queene there.

_Lig_.

Then have I made a faire hand, I cald her Wh.o.r.e, If I shall speake now as her Father, I cannot chuse But greatly rejoyce that she shall be a Queene: but if I should speake to you as a Statesman shee were more fit To be your Wh.o.r.e.

_Tig_.

Get you about your businesse to _Arbaces_, Now you talke idlie.

_Lig_.

Yes Sir, I will goe.

And shall she be a Queene, she had more wit Then her old Father when she ranne away: Shall shee be a Queene, now by my troth tis fine, Ile dance out of all measure at her wedding: Shall I not Sir?

_Tigr_.

Yes marrie shalt thou.

_Lig_.

He make these witherd Kexes beare my bodie Two houres together above ground.

_Tigr_.

Nay, goe, my businesse requires haste.