Whence endlesse flames it sheds in my desire.
Here be my daily pallet; here all nights 20
That can be wrested from thy rivals armes,
O my deare Bussy, I will lye, and kisse
Spirit into thy bloud, or breathe out mine
In sighes, and kisses, and sad tunes to thine. She sings.
Enter Montsurry.
Montsurry. Still on this hant? Still shall adulterous bloud 25
Affect thy spirits? Thinke, for shame, but this,
This bloud, that cockatrice-like thus thou brood’st,
To dry is to breede any quench to thine.
And therefore now (if onely for thy lust
A little cover’d with a vaile of shame) 30
Looke out for fresh life, rather then witch-like
Learne to kisse horror, and with death engender.
Strange crosse in nature, purest virgine shame
Lies in the bloud as lust lyes; and together
Many times mixe too; and in none more shamefull 35
Then in the shamefac’t. Who can then distinguish
Twixt their affections; or tell when hee meetes
With one not common? Yet, as worthiest poets
Shunne common and plebeian formes of speech,
Every illiberall and affected phrase, 40
To clothe their matter, and together tye
Matter and forme with art and decencie;
So worthiest women should shunne vulgar guises,
And though they cannot but flye out for change,
Yet modestie, the matter of their lives, 45
Be it adulterate, should be painted true
With modest out-parts; what they should doe still
Grac’d with good show, though deedes be ne’er so ill.
Tamy. That is so farre from all yee seeke of us
That (though your selves be common as the ayre) 50
We must not take the ayre, wee must not fit
Our actions to our owne affections:
But as geometricians (you still say)
Teach that no lines, nor superficies,
Doe move themselves, but still accompanie 55
The motions of their bodies; so poore wives
Must not pursue, nor have their owne affections,
But to their husbands earnests, and their jests,
To their austerities of lookes, and laughters,
(Though ne’er so foolish and injurious) 60
Like parasites and slaves, fit their disposures.
Mont. I usde thee as my soule, to move and rule me.
Tamy. So said you, when you woo’d. So souldiers tortur’d
With tedious sieges of some wel-wall’d towne,
Propound conditions of most large contents, 65
Freedome of lawes, all former government;
But having once set foote within the wals,
And got the reynes of power into their hands,
Then doe they tyrannize at their owne rude swindges,
Seaze all their goods, their liberties, and lives, 70
And make advantage, and their lusts, their lawes.
Mont. But love me, and performe a wifes part yet,
With all my love before, I sweare forgivenesse.
Tamy. Forgivenesse! that grace you should seeke of mee:
These tortur’d fingers and these stab’d-through armes 75
Keepe that law in their wounds yet unobserv’d,
And ever shall.
Mont. Remember their deserts.
Tam. Those with faire warnings might have beene reform’d,
Not these unmanly rages. You have heard
The fiction of the north winde and the sunne, 80
Both working on a traveller, and contending
Which had most power to take his cloake from him:
Which when the winde attempted, hee roar’d out
Outragious blasts at him to force it off,
That wrapt it closer on: when the calme sunne 85
(The winde once leaving) charg’d him with still beames,
Quiet and fervent, and therein was constant,
Which made him cast off both his cloake and coate;
Like whom should men doe. If yee wish your wives
Should leave dislik’d things, seeke it not with rage, 90
For that enrages; what yee give, yee have:
But use calme warnings, and kinde manly meanes,
And that in wives most prostitute will winne
Not onely sure amends, but make us wives
Better then those that ne’er led faultie lives. 95
Enter a Souldier.
Soldier. My lord.
Mont. How now; would any speake with me?
Sold. I, sir.
Mont. Perverse, and traiterous miscreant!
Where are your other fellowes of my guard?
Have I not told you I will speake with none
But Lord Renel?
Sold. And it is hee that stayes you. 100
Mont. O, is it he? Tis well: attend him in. [Exit Soldier.]
I must be vigilant; the Furies haunt mee.
Doe you heare, dame?
Enter Renel, with the Souldier.
Renel [aside, to the Soldier]. Be true now, for your ladies
injur’d sake,
Whose bountie you have so much cause to honour: 105
For her respect is chiefe in this designe,
And therefore serve it; call out of the way
All your confederate fellowes of his guard,
Till Monsieur Baligny be enter’d here.
Sold. Upon your honour, my lord shall be free 110
From any hurt, you say?
Ren. Free as my selfe. Watch then, and cleare his entrie.
Sold. I will not faile, my lord. Exit Souldier.
Ren. God save your lordship!
Mont. My noblest Lord Renel! past all men welcome!
Wife, welcome his lordship. Osculatur.
Ren. [to Tam.] I much joy 115
In your returne here.
Tamy. You doe more then I.
Mont. Shee’s passionate still, to thinke we ever parted
By my too sterne injurious jelousie.
Ren. Tis well your lordship will confesse your errour
In so good time yet.
Enter Baligny, with a challenge.
Mont. Death! who have wee here? 120
Ho! Guard! Villaines!
Baligny. Why exclaime you so?
Mont. Negligent trayters! Murther, murther, murther!
Bal. Y’are mad. Had mine entent beene so, like yours,
It had beene done ere this.
Ren. Sir, your intent,
And action too, was rude to enter thus. 125
Bal. Y’are a decaid lord to tell me of rudenesse,
As much decaid in manners as in meanes.
Ren. You talke of manners, that thus rudely thrust
Upon a man that’s busie with his wife!
Bal. And kept your lordship then the dore?
Ren. The dore! 130
Mont. Sweet lord, forbeare. Show, show your purpose, sir,
To move such bold feete into others roofes.
Bal. This is my purpose, sir; from Clermont D’Ambois
I bring this challenge.
Mont. Challenge! Ile touch none.
Bal. Ile leave it here then.
Ren. Thou shall leave thy life first. 135
Mont. Murther, murther!
Ren. Retire, my lord; get off.
They all fight and Bal[igny] drives in Mont[surry].
Hold, or thy death shall hold thee. Hence, my lord!
Bal. There lye the chalenge. Exit Mon[tsurry].
Ren. Was not this well handled?
Bal. Nobly, my lord. All thankes. Exit Bal[igny].
Tamy. Ile make him reade it.
Exit Tamy[ra].
Ren. This was a sleight well maskt. O what is man, 140
Unlesse he be
a politician! Exit.
Finis Actus primi.
ACTUS SECUNDI.
SCÆNA PRIMA.
[A Room at the Court.]
Henry, Baligny.
Henry. Come, Baligny, we now are private; say,
What service bring’st thou? make it short; the Guise
(Whose friend thou seem’st) is now in Court, and neare,
And may observe us.
Baligny. This, sir, then, in short.
The faction of the Guise (with which my policie, 5
For service to your Highnesse, seemes to joyne)
Growes ripe, and must be gather’d into hold;
Of which my brother Clermont being a part
Exceeding capitall, deserves to have
A capitall eye on him. And (as you may 10
With best advantage, and your speediest charge)
Command his apprehension: which (because
The Court, you know, is strong in his defence)
Wee must aske country swindge and open fields.
And therefore I have wrought him to goe downe 15
To Cambray with me (of which government
Your Highnesse bountie made mee your lieutenant),
Where when I have him, I will leave my house,
And faine some service out about the confines;
When, in the meane time, if you please to give 20
Command to my lieutenant, by your letters,
To traine him to some muster, where he may
(Much to his honour) see for him your forces
Put into battaile, when hee comes, hee may
With some close stratageme be apprehended: 25
For otherwise your whole powers there will faile
To worke his apprehension: and with that
My hand needes never be discern’d therein.
Hen. Thankes, honest Baligny.
Bal. Your Highnesse knowes
I will be honest, and betray for you 30
Brother and father; for I know (my lord)
Treacherie for Kings is truest loyaltie,
Nor is to beare the name of treacherie,
But grave, deepe policie. All acts that seeme
Ill in particular respects are good 35
As they respect your universal rule:
As in the maine sway of the Universe
The supreame Rectors generall decrees,
To guard the mightie globes of earth and heaven,
Since they make good that guard to preservation 40
Of both those in their order and first end,
No mans particular (as hee thinkes) wrong
Must hold him wrong’d; no, not though all mens reasons,
All law, all conscience, concludes it wrong.
Nor is comparison a flatterer 45
To liken you here to the King of Kings;
Nor any mans particular offence
Against the worlds sway, to offence at yours
In any subject; who as little may
Grudge at their particular wrong, if so it seeme 50
For th’universall right of your estate,
As, being a subject of the worlds whole sway
As well as yours, and being a righteous man
To whom heaven promises defence, and blessing,
Brought to decay, disgrace, and quite defencelesse, 55
Hee may complaine of heaven for wrong to him.
Hen. Tis true: the simile at all parts holds,
As all good subjects hold, that love our favour.
Bal. Which is our heaven here; and a miserie
Incomparable, and most truely hellish, 60
To live depriv’d of our Kings grace and countenance,
Without which best conditions are most cursed:
Life of that nature, howsoever short,
Is a most lingering and tedious life;
Or rather no life, but a languishing, 65
And an abuse of life.
Hen. Tis well conceited.
Bal. I thought it not amisse to yeeld your Highness
A reason of my speeches; lest perhaps
You might conceive I flatter’d: which (I know)
Of all ils under heaven you most abhorre. 70
Hen. Still thou art right, my vertuous Baligny,
For which I thanke and love thee. Thy advise
Ile not forget. Haste to thy government,
And carry D’Ambois with thee. So farewell. Exit.
Bal. Your Majestie fare ever like it selfe. 75
Enter Guise.
Guise. My sure friend Baligny!
Bal. Noblest of princes!
Gui. How stands the state of Cambray?
Bal. Strong, my lord,
And fit for service: for whose readinesse
Your creature, Clermont D’Ambois, and my selfe
Ride shortly downe.
Gui. That Clermont is my love; 80
France never bred a nobler gentleman
For all parts; he exceeds his brother Bussy.
Bal. I, my lord?
Gui. Farre: because (besides his valour)
Hee hath the crowne of man and all his parts,
Which Learning is; and that so true and vertuous 85
That it gives power to doe as well as say
What ever fits a most accomplisht man;
Which Bussy, for his valours season, lackt;
And so was rapt with outrage oftentimes
Beyond decorum; where this absolute Clermont, 90
Though (onely for his naturall zeale to right)
Hee will be fiery, when hee sees it crost,
And in defence of it, yet when he lists
Hee can containe that fire, as hid in embers.
Bal. No question, hee’s a true, learn’d gentleman. 95
Gui. He is as true as tides, or any starre
Is in his motion; and for his rare learning,
Hee is not (as all else are that seeke knowledge)
Of taste so much deprav’d that they had rather
Delight and satisfie themselves to drinke 100
Of the streame troubled, wandring ne’er so farre
From the cleare fount, then of the fount it selfe.
In all, Romes Brutus is reviv’d in him,
Whom hee of industry doth imitate;
Or rather, as great Troys Euphorbus was 105
After Pithagoras, so is Brutus, Clermont.
And, were not Brutus a conspirator —
Bal. Conspirator, my lord! Doth that empaire him?
Cæsar beganne to tyrannize; and when vertue,
Nor the religion of the Gods, could serve 110
To curbe the insolence of his proud lawes,
Brutus would be the Gods just instrument.
What said the Princesse, sweet Antigone,
In the grave Greeke tragedian, when the question
Twixt her and Creon is for lawes of Kings? 115
Which when he urges, shee replies on him
Though his lawes were a Kings, they were not Gods;
Nor would shee value Creons written lawes
With Gods unwrit edicts, since they last not
This day and the next, but every day and ever, 120
Where Kings lawes alter every day and houre,
And in that change imply a bounded power.
Gui. Well, let us leave these vaine disputings what
Is to be done, and fall to doing something.
When are you for your government in Cambray? 125
Bal. When you command, my lord.
Gui. Nay, that’s not fit.
Continue your designements with the King,
With all your service; onely, if I send,
Respect me as your friend, and love my Clermont.
Bal. Your Highnesse knowes my vowes.
Gui. I, tis enough. 130
Exit Guise. Manet Bal[igny].
[Sidenote: Ἀμήχανον δὲ παντὸς, &c.
Impossible est viri cognoscere me
ntem ac voluntatem, priusquam in
Magistratibus apparet.
Sopho. Antig.]
Bal. Thus must wee play on both sides, and thus harten
In any ill those men whose good wee hate.
Kings may doe what they list, and for Kings, subjects,
Eyther exempt from censure or exception;
For, as no mans worth can be justly judg’d 135
But when he shines in some authoritie,
So no authoritie should suffer censure
But by a man of more authoritie.
Great vessels into lesse are emptied never,
There’s a redoundance past their continent ever. 140
These virtuosi are the poorest creatures;
For looke how spinners weave out of themselves
Webs, whose strange matter none before can see;
So these, out of an unseene good in vertue,
Make arguments of right and comfort in her, 145
That clothe them like the poore web of a spinner.
Enter Clermont.
Clermont. Now, to my challenge. What’s the place, the weapon?
Bal. Soft, sir! let first your challenge be received.
Hee would not touch, nor see it.
Cler. Possible!
How did you then?
Bal. Left it, in his despight. 150
But when hee saw mee enter so expectlesse,
To heare his base exclaimes of “murther, murther,”
Made mee thinke noblesse lost, in him quicke buried.
[Sidenote: Quo mollius degunt, eo servilius.
Epict.]
Cler. They are the breathing sepulchres of noblesse:
No trulier noble men then lions pictures, 155
Hung up for signes, are lions. Who knowes not
That lyons the more soft kept, are more servile?
And looke how lyons close kept, fed by hand,
Lose quite th’innative fire of spirit and greatnesse
That lyons free breathe, forraging for prey, 160
And grow so grosse that mastifes, curs, and mungrils
Have spirit to cow them: so our soft French Nobles
Chain’d up in ease and numbd securitie
(Their spirits shrunke up like their covetous fists,
And never opened but Domitian-like, 165
And all his base, obsequious minions
When they were catching though it were but flyes),
Besotted with their pezzants love of gaine,
Rusting at home, and on each other preying,
Are for their greatnesse but the greater slaves, 170
And none is noble but who scrapes and saves.
Bal. Tis base, tis base; and yet they thinke them high.
Cler. So children mounted on their hobby-horse
Thinke they are riding, when with wanton toile
They beare what should beare them. A man may well 175
Compare them to those foolish great-spleen’d cammels,
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 214