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EDRICUS: Give not such scope to humorous discontent: ...

we are all partners of your private griefs;

kings are the heads, and if the head but ache,

the little finger is distempered;

we grieve to see you grieved, which hurteth us

and yet avails not to assuage your grief.

You are the sun, my lord, we marigolds,

whenas you shine we spread ourselves abroad

and take our glory from your influence,

but when you hide your face or darken it

with th' least encounter of a cloudy look, ...

we close our eyes as partners of your woes,

drooping our heads as grass down-weighed with dew.

Then clear ye up, my lord, and cheer up us;

for now our valors are extinguished

and all our force lies drowned in brinish tears

as jewels in the bottom of the sea.

I do beseech your grace to hear me speak. [Edricus talks to him.]

SOUTHAMPTON: I do not like this humor in my son;

'twill quite discourage all his followers.

USKATAULF: He stops his ears to all persuasions; ...

his council cannot be admitted speech:

his father Sveyn was much more patient

and could as well brook loss as victory.

CANUTUS: These words proceed not from a shallow brain.

EDRICUS: Praise the event, my lord: the end is all.

In the meantime I'll go write to Ironside

craving forgiveness, and insinuate

his yielding favor. He is pitiful,

and I am rare in moving passion.

I know the prince will quickly credit me ...

and put affiance in my smooth pretense,

but whatsoe'er he doth or minds to do,

you shall be sure to have intelligence;

but, good my lord, leave me a little while

to private contemplation, for my head

swims full of plots and other stratagems

of great avail, and I must empty it.

CANUTUS: God prosper what thou dost intend.

EDRICUS: Pray to the devil: God is not my friend.

[Exeunt (Canutus). Manet Edricus.]

Stitch, what, Stitch, call in Stitch! [Enter Stitch.] ...

STITCH: Here's a stitching indeed, you have made Stitch have a

stitch in his side with coming so hastily after dinner.

EDRICUS: Why, villain, darst thou eat meat in these troublesome times?

STITCH: Dare I eat meat? Aye, and eat Time, be he never so

troublesome. My lord, were Mars himself

made of beef and brewis I durst in

this choleric stomach devour him quick.

EDRICUS: Sure, y'are a tall man.

STITCH: Aye sir, at the end of a fray and beginning of a feast.

EDRICUS: Well, fetch me paper and a cornegraph. ...

STITCH: A horn-grafter? What's that, sir?

EDRICUS: Sirrah, I mean an inkhorn.

STITCH: You mean well, sir. A blackhorn, you have dipped your

pen in many a man's inkhorn besides your own. [Exit Stitch.]

EDRICUS: My state may be compared unto his

that ventures all his credit and his wealth

upon the fickle hazard of a die.

The crown I level at, I venture life,

the dearest jewel and of greatest price

that any mortal hath possession of. ...

My life is sweet, yet will I venture it

at all or nothing. Trust a mother-wit.

[Enter Stitch with paper and an inkhorn.]

STITCH: Here, sir. I would never have men that are unmarried

~~~ so unprovided as they should be

compelled to borrow horns of young men,

nor would I have young men to borrow inkhorns of

married men. Oh, it is perilous when their foreheads

proves blushing papers to bewray young buds.

EDRICUS: Sirrah, be gone, but be not far from hence.

I presently shall have occasion ...

to employ you in some serious business.

STITCH: I will be absent when you call, I warrant you.

[Exit Stitch. Edricus sits down, writeth and blotteth.]

EDRICUS: Nay, try thy wits, thou writest for a wager;

'tis not for gold but grace and for thy life,

a thing that would put spirit in a block

and be a whetstone to a blunter head.

With what exordion shall I win his heart?

How shall I tie his ears to my discourse?

A schoolboy hath a readier wit than I.

I never tried my barren sconce till now, ...

and now I see I am not Edricus,

but a most blockish and dull-pated hind,

graveled at such an easy enterprise.

What standest thou trifling and delaying time?

Fetch fire from heaven