I learn'd in Naples how to poyson Flowers,
To strangle with a Lawne thrust downe the throate,
To pierce the wind-pipe with a needles point,
Or whilst one is asleepe, to take a Quill
And blow a little powder in his eares,
Or open his mouth, and powre quick-silver downe,
But yet I have a braver way then these.
Mor.
What's that?
Light.
Nay, you shall pardon me, none shall know my tricks.
Mor.
I care not how it is, so it be not spide,
Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis,
At every ten miles end thou hast a Horse.
Take this, away, and never see me more.
Light.
No?
Mor.
No, unlesse thou bring me news of Edwards death.
Light.
That will I quickly do, farewell my Lord.
Mor.
The Prince I rule, the Queene do I command,
And with a lowly conge to the ground,
The proudest Lords salute me as I passe,
I seale, I cancell, I do what I will,
Fear'd am I more then lov'd, let me be fear'd:
And when I frowne make all the Court looke pale.
I view the Prince with Aristarcus eyes,
Whose lookes were as a breeching to a boy,
They thrust upon me the Protectorship,
And sue to me for that, that I desire,
While at the Councell Table, grave enough,
And not unlike a bashfull Puritaine,
First I complaine of imbecility,
Saying it is, onus quàm gravissimum,
Till being interrupted by my friends,
Suscepi that provinciam as they terme it,
And to conclude, I am Protector now,
Now is all sure, the Queene and Mortimer
Shall rule the Realme, the King, and none rules us.
Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance,
And what I list command, who dare controule,
Major sum quàm cui possit fortuna nocere,
And
