The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman
Page 205
Their heat and light, and partly of the place
The divers frames, but chiefly by the moone,
Bristled with surges, never will be wonne, 180
(No, not when th’hearts of all those powers are burst)
To make retreat into his setled home,
Till he be crown’d with his owne quiet fome.
Henr. You have the mate. Another?
Gui. No more. Flourish short.
Exit Guise; after him the King, Mons[ieur] whispering.
Bar. Why here’s the lion skar’d with the 185
throat of a dunghill cock, a fellow that has
newly shak’d off his shackles; now does he
crow for that victory.
L’An. Tis one of the best jiggs that ever
was acted. 190
Pyr. Whom does the Guise suppose him to
be, troe?
L’An. Out of doubt, some new denizond
Lord, and thinks that suit newly drawne out a
th’ mercers books. 195
Bar. I have heard of a fellow, that by a fixt
imagination looking upon a bulbaiting, had a
visible paire of hornes grew out of his forhead:
and I beleeve this gallant overjoyed with the
conceit of Monsieurs cast suit, imagines himselfe 200
to be the Monsieur.
L’An. And why not? as well as the asse
stalking in the lions case, bare himselfe like a
lion, braying all the huger beasts out of the
forrest? 205
Pyr. Peace! he looks this way.
Bar. Marrie, let him look, sir; what will you
say now if the Guise be gone to fetch a blanquet
for him?
L’An. Faith, I beleeve it, for his honour sake. 210
Pyr. But, if D’Ambois carrie it cleane? Exeunt Ladies.
Bar. True, when he curvets in the blanquet.
Pyr. I, marrie, sir.
L’An. Sfoot, see how he stares on’s.
Bar. Lord blesse us, let’s away. 215
Buss. Now, sir, take your full view: who
does the object please ye?
Bar. If you aske my opinion, sir, I think
your suit sits as well as if’t had beene made for
you. 220
Buss. So, sir, and was that the subject of your
ridiculous joylity?
L’An. What’s that to you, sir?
Buss. Sir, I have observ’d all your fleerings;
and resolve your selves yee shall give a strickt 225
account for’t.
Enter Brisac, Melynell.
Bar. O miraculous jealousie! Doe you think
your selfe such a singular subject for laughter
that none can fall into the matter of our merriment
but you? 230
L’An. This jealousie of yours, sir, confesses
some close defect in your selfe that wee never
dream’d of.
Pyr. Wee held discourse of a perfum’d asse,
that being disguis’d in a lions case imagin’d 235
himself a lion: I hope that toucht not you.
Buss. So, sir? Your descants doe marvellous
well fit this ground; we shall meet where your
buffonly laughters will cost ye the best blood in
your bodies. 240
Bar. For lifes sake, let’s be gone; hee’ll kill’s
outright else.
Buss. Goe, at your pleasures; Ile be your
ghost to haunt you; and yee sleepe an’t, hang
me. 245
L’An. Goe, goe, sir; court your mistresse.
Pyr. And be advis’d; we shall have odds
against you.
Buss. Tush, valour stands not in number: Ile
maintaine it that one man may beat three boyes. 250
Brisac. Nay, you shall have no ods of him in
number, sir; hee’s a gentleman as good as the
proudest of you, and yee shall not wrong him.
Bar. Not, sir?
Melynell. Not, sir; though he be not so rich, 255
hee’s a better man than the best of you; and I
will not endure it.
L’An. Not you, sir?
Bris. No, sir, nor I.
Buss. I should thank you for this kindnesse, 260
if I thought these perfum’d musk-cats (being
out of this priviledge) durst but once mew at us.
Bar. Does your confident spirit doubt that,
sir? Follow us and try.
L’An. Come, sir, wee’ll lead you a dance. 265
Exeunt.
Finis Actus Primi.
ACTUS SECUND.
SCENA PRIMA.
[A Room in the Court.]
Henry, Guise, Montsurry, and Attendants.
Henry. This desperate quarrell sprung out of their envies
To D’Ambois sudden bravery, and great spirit.
Guise. Neither is worth their envie.
Henr. Lesse than either
Will make the gall of envie overflow;
She feeds on outcast entrailes like a kite: 5
In which foule heape, if any ill lies hid,
She sticks her beak into it, shakes it up,
And hurl’s it all abroad, that all may view it.
Corruption is her nutriment; but touch her
With any precious oyntment, and you kill her. 10
Where she finds any filth in men, she feasts,
And with her black throat bruits it through the world
Being sound and healthfull; but if she but taste
The slenderest pittance of commended vertue,
She surfets of it, and is like a flie 15
That passes all the bodies soundest parts,
And dwels upon the sores; or if her squint eie
Have power to find none there, she forges some:
She makes that crooked ever which is strait;
Calls valour giddinesse, justice tyrannie: 20
A wise man may shun her, she not her selfe;
Whither soever she flies from her harmes,
She beares her foe still claspt in her own armes:
And therefore, cousen Guise, let us avoid her.
Enter Nuncius.
Nuncius. What Atlas or Olympus lifts his head 25
So farre past covert, that with aire enough
My words may be inform’d, and from their height
I may be seene and heard through all the world?
A tale so worthy, and so fraught with wonder,
Sticks in my jawes, and labours with event. 30
Henr. Com’st thou from D’Ambois?
Nun. From him, and the rest,
His friends and enemies; whose sterne fight I saw,
And heard their words before, and in the fray.
Henr. Relate at large what thou hast seene and heard.
Nun. I saw fierce D’Ambois and his two brave friends 35
Enter the field, and at their heeles their foes;
Which were the famous souldiers, Barrisor,
L’Anou, and Pyrrhot, great in deeds of armes.
All which arriv’d at the evenest peece of earth
The field afforded, the three challengers 40
Turn’d head, drew all their rapiers, and stood ranck’t;
When face to face the three defendants met them,
Alike prepar’d, and resolute alike.
Like bonfires of contributorie wood
Every mans look shew’d, fed with eithers spirit; 45
As one had beene a mirror to another,
Like formes of life and death each took from other;
And so were life and death mixt at their heights,
That you could see no feare of death, for life,
Nor love of life, for death: but in their browes 50
Pyrrho’s opinion in great letters shone:
That life and death in all respects are one.<
br />
Henr. Past there no sort of words at their encounter?
Nun. As Hector, twixt the hosts of Greece and Troy,
(When Paris and the Spartane King should end 55
The nine yeares warre) held up his brasen launce
For signall that both hosts should cease from armes,
And heare him speak; so Barrisor (advis’d)
Advanc’d his naked rapier twixt both sides,
Ript up the quarrell, and compar’d six lives 60
Then laid in ballance with six idle words;
Offer’d remission and contrition too,
Or else that he and D’Ambois might conclude
The others dangers. D’Ambois lik’d the last;
But Barrisors friends (being equally engag’d 65
In the maine quarrell) never would expose
His life alone to that they all deserv’d.
And for the other offer of remission
D’Ambois (that like a lawrell put in fire
Sparkl’d and spit) did much much more than scorne 70
That his wrong should incense him so like chaffe,
To goe so soone out, and like lighted paper
Approve his spirit at once both fire and ashes.
So drew they lots, and in them Fates appointed,
That Barrisor should fight with firie D’Ambois; 75
Pyrhot with Melynell, with Brisac L’Anou;
And then, like flame and powder, they commixt
So spritely, that I wisht they had beene spirits,
That the ne’re shutting wounds they needs must open
Might, as they open’d, shut, and never kill. 80
But D’Ambois sword (that lightned as it flew)
Shot like a pointed comet at the face
Of manly Barrisor, and there it stucke:
Thrice pluckt he at it, and thrice drew on thrusts
From him that of himselfe was free as fire, 85
Who thrust still as he pluckt; yet (past beliefe!)
He with his subtile eye, hand, body, scap’t.
At last, the deadly bitten point tugg’d off,
On fell his yet undaunted foe so fiercely,
That (only made more horrid with his wound) 90
Great D’Ambois shrunke, and gave a little ground;
But soone return’d, redoubled in his danger,
And at the heart of Barrisor seal’d his anger.
Then, as in Arden I have seene an oke
Long shooke with tempests, and his loftie toppe 95
Bent to his root, which being at length made loose
(Even groaning with his weight), he gan to nodde
This way and that, as loth his curled browes
(Which he had oft wrapt in the skie with stormes)
Should stoope: and yet, his radicall fivers burst, 100
Storme-like he fell, and hid the feare-cold earth —
So fell stout Barrisor, that had stood the shocks
Of ten set battels in your Highnesse warre,
‘Gainst the sole souldier of the world, Navarre.
Gui. O pitious and horrid murther!
[Montsurry.] Such a life 105
Me thinks had mettall in it to survive
An age of men.
Henr. Such often soonest end. —
Thy felt report cals on; we long to know
On what events the other have arriv’d.
Nun. Sorrow and fury, like two opposite fumes 110
Met in the upper region of a cloud,
At the report made by this worthies fall,
Brake from the earth, and with them rose Revenge,
Entring with fresh powers his two noble friends;
And under that ods fell surcharg’d Brisac, 115
The friend of D’Ambois, before fierce L’Anou;
Which D’Ambois seeing, as I once did see,
In my young travels through Armenia,
An angrie unicorne in his full cariere
Charge with too swift a foot a jeweller, 120
That watcht him for the treasure of his brow,
And, ere he could get shelter of a tree,
Naile him with his rich antler to the earth:
So D’Ambois ranne upon reveng’d L’Anou,
Who eying th’eager point borne in his face, 125
And giving backe, fell back; and, in his fall,
His foes uncurbed sword stopt in his heart:
By which time all the life strings of th’tw’other
Were cut, and both fell, as their spirit flew,
Upwards, and still hunt Honour at the view. 130
And now (of all the six) sole D’Ambois stood
Untoucht, save only with the others bloud.
Henr. All slaine outright?
Nun. All slaine outright but he,
Who kneeling in the warme life of his friends,
(All freckled with the bloud his rapier raind) 135
He kist their pale lips, and bade both farewell:
And see the bravest man the French earth beares!
[Exit Nuntius.]
Enter Monsieur, D’Amb[ois] bare.
Bussy. Now is the time; y’are princely vow’d my friend;
Perform it princely, and obtaine my pardon.
Monsieur. Else Heaven forgive not me! Come on, brave friend! 140
If ever Nature held her selfe her owne,
When the great triall of a King and subject
Met in one bloud, both from one belly springing,
Now prove her vertue and her greatnesse one,
Or make the t’one the greater with the t’other, 145
(As true Kings should) and for your brothers love
(Which is a speciall species of true vertue)
Doe that you could not doe, not being a King.
Henr. Brother, I know your suit; these wilfull murthers
Are ever past our pardon.
Mons. Manly slaughter 150
Should never beare th’account of wilfull murther,
It being a spice of justice, where with life
Offending past law equall life is laid
In equall ballance, to scourge that offence
By law of reputation, which to men 155
Exceeds all positive law; and what that leaves
To true mens valours (not prefixing rights
Of satisfaction suited to their wrongs)
A free mans eminence may supply and take.
Henr. This would make every man that thinks him wrong’d, 160
Or is offended, or in wrong or right,
Lay on this violence; and all vaunt themselves
Law-menders and supplyers, though meere butchers,
Should this fact, though of justice, be forgiven.
Mons. O no, my Lord! it would make cowards feare 165
To touch the reputations of true men.
When only they are left to impe the law,
Justice will soone distinguish murtherous minds
From just revengers. Had my friend beene slaine,
His enemy surviving, he should die, 170
Since he had added to a murther’d fame
(Which was in his intent) a murthered man;
And this had worthily beene wilfull murther;
But my friend only sav’d his fames deare life,
Which is above life, taking th’under value 175
Which in the wrong it did was forfeit to him;
And in this fact only preserves a man
In his uprightnesse, worthy to survive
Millions of such as murther men alive.
Henr. Well, brother, rise, and raise your friend withall 180
From death to life: and, D’Ambois, let your life
(Refin’d by passing through this merited death)
Be purg’d from more such foule pollution;
Nor on your scape, nor valour, more presuming
To be again so violent.
Buss. My Lord, 185
I lothe
as much a deed of unjust death,
As law it selfe doth; and to tyrannise,
Because I have a little spirit to dare,
And power to doe, as to be tyranniz’d.
This is a grace that (on my knees redoubled) 190
I crave, to double this my short lifes gift,
And shall your royal bountie centuple,
That I may so make good what Law and Nature
Have given me for my good: since I am free,
(Offending no just law) let no law make, 195
By any wrong it does, my life her slave:
When I am wrong’d, and that Law failes to right me,
Let me be King my selfe (as man was made)
And doe a justice that exceeds the Law:
If my wrong passe the power of single valour 200
To right and expiate, then be you my King,
And doe a right, exceeding Law and Nature.
Who to himselfe is law, no law doth need,
Offends no law, and is a King indeed.
Henr. Enjoy what thou intreat’st, we give but ours. 205
Buss. What you have given, my lord, is ever yours.
Exit Rex cum [Montsurry.]
Gui. Mort dieu, who would have pardon’d such a murther?
Exit.
Mons. Now vanish horrors into Court attractions
For which let this balme make thee fresh and faire!
And now forth with thy service to the Duchesse, 210
As my long love will to Monsurries Countesse. Exit.
Buss. To whom my love hath long been vow’d in heart,
Although in hand, for shew, I held the Duchesse.
And now through bloud and vengeance, deeds of height,
And hard to be atchiev’d, tis fit I make 215
Attempt of her perfection. I need feare
No check in his rivality, since her vertues
Are so renown’d, and hee of all dames hated. Exit.
SCENA SECUNDA.
A Room in Montsurry’s House.]
Montsur[ry], Tamyra, Beaupre, Pero, Charlotte, Pyrha.
Montsurry. He will have pardon, sure.
Tamyra. Twere pittie else:
For though his great spirit something overflow,
All faults are still borne, that from greatnesse grow:
But such a sudden courtier saw I never.
Beaupre. He was too sudden, which indeed was rudenesse. 5
Tam. True, for it argued his no due conceit
Both of the place, and greatnesse of the persons,
Nor of our sex: all which (we all being strangers
To his encounter) should have made more maners
Deserve more welcome.
Mont. All this fault is found 10
Because he lov’d the Duchesse and left you.
Tam. Ahlas, love give her joy! I am so farre
From envie of her honour, that I sweare,