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.