The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

by George Chapman

  That to their high heads beg’d of Jove hornes higher;

  Whose most uncomely and ridiculous pride

  When hee had satisfied, they could not use,

  But where they went upright before, they stoopt, 180

  And bore their heads much lower for their hornes: Simil[iter.]

  As these high men doe, low in all true grace,

  Their height being priviledge to all things base.

  And as the foolish poet that still writ

  All his most selfe-lov’d verse in paper royall, 185

  Or partchment rul’d with lead, smooth’d with the pumice,

  Bound richly up, and strung with crimson strings;

  Never so blest as when hee writ and read

  The ape-lov’d issue of his braine; and never

  But joying in himselfe, admiring ever: 190

  Yet in his workes behold him, and hee show’d

  Like to a ditcher. So these painted men,

  All set on out-side, looke upon within,

  And not a pezzants entrailes you shall finde

  More foule and mezel’d, nor more sterv’d of minde. 195

  Bal. That makes their bodies fat. I faine would know

  How many millions of our other Nobles

  Would make one Guise. There is a true tenth Worthy,

  Who, did not one act onely blemish him —

  Cler. One act! what one?

  Bal. One that (though yeeres past done) 200

  Stickes by him still, and will distaine him ever.

  Cler. Good heaven! wherein? what one act can you name

  Suppos’d his staine that Ile not prove his luster?

  Bal. To satisfie you, twas the Massacre.

  Cler. The Massacre! I thought twas some such blemish. 205

  Bal. O, it was hainous!

  Cler. To a brutish sense,

  But not a manly reason. Wee so tender

  The vile part in us that the part divine

  We see in hell, and shrinke not. Who was first

  Head of that Massacre?

  Bal. The Guise.

  Cler. Tis nothing so. 210

  Who was in fault for all the slaughters made

  In Ilion, and about it? Were the Greekes?

  Was it not Paris ravishing the Queene

  Of Lacædemon; breach of shame and faith,

  And all the lawes of hospitalitie? 215

  This is the beastly slaughter made of men,

  When truth is over-throwne, his lawes corrupted;

  When soules are smother’d in the flatter’d flesh,

  Slaine bodies are no more then oxen slaine.

  Bal. Differ not men from oxen?

  Cler. Who sayes so? 220

  But see wherein; in the understanding rules

  Of their opinions, lives, and actions;

  In their communities of faith and reason.

  Was not the wolfe that nourisht Romulus

  More humane then the men that did expose him? 225

  Bal. That makes against you.

  Cler. Not, sir, if you note

  That by that deede, the actions difference make

  Twixt men and beasts, and not their names nor formes.

  Had faith, nor shame, all hospitable rights

  Beene broke by Troy, Greece had not made that slaughter. 230

  Had that beene sav’d (sayes a philosopher)

  The Iliads and Odysses had beene lost.

  Had Faith and true Religion beene prefer’d

  Religious Guise had never massacerd.

  Bal. Well, sir, I cannot, when I meete with you, 235

  But thus digresse a little, for my learning,

  From any other businesse I entend.

  But now the voyage we resolv’d for Cambray,

  I told the Guise, beginnes; and wee must haste.

  And till the Lord Renel hath found some meane 240

  (Conspiring with the Countesse) to make sure

  Your sworne wreake on her husband, though this fail’d,

  In my so brave command wee’ll spend the time,

  Sometimes in training out in skirmishes

  And battailes all our troopes and companies; 245

  And sometimes breathe your brave Scotch running horse,

  That great Guise gave you, that all th’horse in France

  Farre over-runnes at every race and hunting

  Both of the hare and deere. You shall be honor’d

  Like the great Guise himselfe, above the King. 250

  And (can you but appease your great-spleen’d sister

  For our delaid wreake of your brothers slaughter)

  At all parts you’ll be welcom’d to your wonder.

  Cler. Ile see my lord the Guise againe before

  Wee take our journey?

  Bal. O, sir, by all meanes; 255

  You cannot be too carefull of his love,

  That ever takes occasion to be raising

  Your virtues past the reaches of this age,

  And rankes you with the best of th’ancient Romanes.

  Cler. That praise at no part moves mee, but the worth 260

  Of all hee can give others spher’d in him.

  Bal. Hee yet is thought to entertaine strange aymes.

  Cler. He may be well; yet not, as you thinke, strange.

  His strange aymes are to crosse the common custome

  Of servile Nobles; in which hee’s so ravisht, 265

  That quite the earth he leaves, and up hee leapes

  On Atlas shoulders, and from thence lookes downe,

  Viewing how farre off other high ones creepe;

  Rich, poore of reason, wander; all pale looking,

  And trembling but to thinke of their sure deaths, 270

  Their lives so base are, and so rancke their breaths.

  Which I teach Guise to heighten, and make sweet

  With lifes deare odors, a good minde and name;

  For which hee onely loves me, and deserves

  My love and life, which through all deaths I vow: 275

  Resolving this (what ever change can be)

  Thou hast created, thou hast ruinde mee. Exit.

  Finis Actus secundi.

  ACTUS TERTII.

  SCÆNA PRIMA.

  [A Parade-Ground near Cambrai.]

  A march of Captaines over the Stage.

  Maillard, Chalon, Aumall following with Souldiers.

  Maillard. These troopes and companies come in with wings:

  So many men, so arm’d, so gallant horse,

  I thinke no other government in France

  So soone could bring together. With such men

  Me thinkes a man might passe th’insulting Pillars 5

  Of Bacchus and Alcides.

  Chalon. I much wonder

  Our Lord Lieutenant brought his brother downe

  To feast and honour him, and yet now leaves him

  At such an instance.

  Mail. Twas the Kings command;

  For whom he must leave brother, wife, friend, all things. 10

  Aumale. The confines of his government, whose view

  Is the pretext of his command, hath neede

  Of no such sodaine expedition.

  Mail. Wee must not argue that. The Kings command

  Is neede and right enough: and that he serves, 15

  (As all true subjects should) without disputing.

  Chal. But knowes not hee of your command to take

  His brother Clermont?

  Mail. No: the Kings will is

  Expressely to conceale his apprehension

  From my Lord Governour. Observ’d yee not? 20

  Againe peruse the letters. Both you are

  Made my assistants, and have right and trust

  In all the waightie secrets like my selfe.

  Aum. Tis strange a man that had, through his life past,

  So sure a foote in vertue and true knowledge 25

  As Clermont D’Ambois, should be now found tripping,
<
br />   And taken up thus, so to make his fall

  More steepe and head-long.

  Mail. It is Vertues fortune,

  To keepe her low, and in her proper place;

  Height hath no roome for her. But as a man 30

  That hath a fruitfull wife, and every yeere

  A childe by her, hath every yeere a month

  To breathe himselfe, where hee that gets no childe

  Hath not a nights rest (if he will doe well);

  So, let one marry this same barraine Vertue, 35

  She never lets him rest, where fruitfull Vice

  Spares her rich drudge, gives him in labour breath,

  Feedes him with bane, and makes him fat with death.

  Chal. I see that good lives never can secure

  Men from bad livers. Worst men will have best 40

  As ill as they, or heaven to hell they’ll wrest.

  Aum. There was a merit for this, in the fault

  That Bussy made, for which he (doing pennance)

  Proves that these foule adulterous guilts will runne

  Through the whole bloud, which not the cleare can shunne. 45

  Mail. Ile therefore take heede of the bastarding

  Whole innocent races; tis a fearefull thing.

  And as I am true batcheler, I sweare,

  To touch no woman (to the coupling ends)

  Unlesse it be mine owne wife or my friends; 50

  I may make bold with him.

  Aum. Tis safe and common.

  The more your friend dares trust, the more deceive him.

  And as through dewie vapors the sunnes forme

  Makes the gay rainebow girdle to a storme,

  So in hearts hollow, friendship (even the sunne 55

  To all good growing in societie)

  Makes his so glorious and divine name hold

  Collours for all the ill that can be told. Trumpets within.

  Mail. Harke! our last troopes are come.

  Chal. (Drums beate.) Harke! our last foote.

  Mail. Come, let us put all quickly into battaile, 60

  And send for Clermont, in whose honour all

  This martiall preparation wee pretend.

  Chal. Wee must bethinke us, ere wee apprehend him,

  (Besides our maine strength) of some stratageme

  To make good our severe command on him, 65

  As well to save blood as to make him sure:

  For if hee come on his Scotch horse, all France

  Put at the heeles of him will faile to take him.

  Mail. What thinke you if wee should disguise a brace

  Of our best souldiers in faire lackies coates, 70

  And send them for him, running by his side,

  Till they have brought him in some ambuscado

  We close may lodge for him, and sodainely

  Lay sure hand on him, plucking him from horse?

  Aum. It must be sure and strong hand; for if once 75

  Hee feeles the touch of such a stratageme,

  Tis not choicest brace of all our bands

  Can manacle or quench his fiery hands.

  Mail. When they have seaz’d him, the ambush shal make in.

  Aum. Doe as you please; his blamelesse spirit deserves 80

  (I dare engage my life) of all this, nothing.

  Chal. Why should all this stirre be, then?

  Aum. Who knowes not

  The bumbast politie thrusts into his gyant,

  To make his wisedome seeme of size as huge,

  And all for sleight encounter of a shade, 85

  So hee be toucht, hee would have hainous made?

  Mail. It may be once so; but so ever, never.

  Ambition is abroad, on foote, on horse;

  Faction chokes every corner, streete, the Court;

  Whose faction tis you know, and who is held 90

  The fautors right hand: how high his aymes reach

  Nought but a crowne can measure. This must fall

  Past shadowes waights, and is most capitall.

  Chal. No question; for since hee is come to Cambray,

  The malecontent, decaid Marquesse Renel, 95

  Is come, and new arriv’d; and made partaker

  Of all the entertaining showes and feasts

  That welcom’d Clermont to the brave virago,

  His manly sister. Such wee are esteem’d

  As are our consorts. Marquesse malecontent 100

  Comes where hee knowes his vaine hath safest vent.

  Mail. Let him come at his will, and goe as free;

  Let us ply Clermont, our whole charge is hee. Exeunt.

  SCÆNA SECUNDA.

  A Room in the Governor’s Castle at Cambrai.]

  Enter a Gentleman Usher before Clermont: Renel, Charlotte,

  with two women attendants, with others: showes having past

  within.

  Charlotte. This for your lordships welcome into Cambray.

  Renel. Noblest of ladies, tis beyond all power

  (Were my estate at first full) in my meanes

  To quit or merit.

  Clermont. You come something latter

  From Court, my lord, then I: and since newes there 5

  Is every day encreasing with th’affaires,

  Must I not aske now, what the newes is there?

  Where the Court lyes? what stirre? change? what avise

  From England, Italie?

  Ren. You must doe so,

  If you’ll be cald a gentleman well quallified, 10

  And weare your time and wits in those discourses.

  Cler. The Locrian princes therefore were brave rulers;

  For whosoever there came new from countrie,

  And in the citie askt, “What newes?” was punisht:

  Since commonly such braines are most delighted 15

  With innovations, gossips tales, and mischiefes.

  But as of lyons it is said and eagles,

  That, when they goe, they draw their seeres and tallons

  Close up, to shunne rebating of their sharpnesse:

  So our wits sharpnesse, which wee should employ 20

  In noblest knowledge, wee should never waste

  In vile and vulgar admirations.

  Ren. Tis right; but who, save onely you, performes it,

  And your great brother? Madame, where is he?

  Char. Gone, a day since, into the countries confines, 25

  To see their strength, and readinesse for service.

  Ren. Tis well; his favour with the King hath made him

  Most worthily great, and live right royally.

  Cler. I: would hee would not doe so! Honour never

  Should be esteem’d with wise men as the price 30

  And value of their virtuous services,

  But as their signe or badge; for that bewrayes

  More glory in the outward grace of goodnesse

  Then in the good it selfe; and then tis said,

  Who more joy takes that men his good advance 35

  Then in the good it selfe, does it by chance.

  Char. My brother speakes all principle. What man

  Is mov’d with your soule? or hath such a thought

  In any rate of goodnesse?

  Cler. Tis their fault.

  We have examples of it, cleare and many. 40

  Demetrius Phalerius, an orator,

  And (which not oft meete) a philosopher,

  So great in Athens grew that he erected

  Three hundred statues of him; of all which,

  No rust nor length of time corrupted one; 45

  But in his life time all were overthrowne.

  And Demades (that past Demosthenes

  For all extemporall orations)

  Erected many statues, which (he living)

  Were broke, and melted into chamber-pots. 50

  Many such ends have fallen on such proud honours,

  No more because the men on whom they fell

  Grew insol
ent and left their vertues state,

  Then for their hugenesse, that procur’d their hate:

  And therefore little pompe in men most great 55

  Makes mightily and strongly to the guard

  Of what they winne by chance or just reward.

  Great and immodest braveries againe,

  Like statues much too high made for their bases,

  Are overturn’d as soone as given their places. 60

  Enter a Messenger with a Letter.

  Messenger. Here is a letter, sir, deliver’d mee

  Now at the fore-gate by a gentleman.

  Cler. What gentleman?

  Mess. Hee would not tell his name;

  Hee said, hee had not time enough to tell it,

  And say the little rest hee had to say. 65

  Cler. That was a merry saying; he tooke measure

  Of his deare time like a most thriftie husband.

  Char. What newes?

  Cler. Strange ones, and fit for a novation;

  Waightie, unheard of, mischievous enough.

  Ren. Heaven shield! what are they?

  Cler. Read them, good my lord. 70

  Ren. “You are betraid into this countrie.” Monstrous!

  Char. How’s that?

  Cler. Read on.

  Ren. “Maillard, your brothers Lieutenant,

  that yesterday invited you to see his musters, 75

  hath letters and strickt charge from the King to

  apprehend you.”

  Char. To apprehend him!

  Ren. “Your brother absents himselfe of

  purpose.” 80

  Cler. That’s a sound one.

  Char. That’s a lye.

  Ren. “Get on your Scotch horse, and retire

  to your strength; you know where it is, and

  there it expects you. Beleeve this as your best 85

  friend had sworne it. Fare-well if you will.

  Anonymos.” What’s that?

  Cler. Without a name.

  Char. And all his notice, too, without all truth.

  Cler. So I conceive it, sister: ile not wrong 90

  My well knowne brother for Anonymos.

  Char. Some foole hath put this tricke on you, yet more

  T’uncover your defect of spirit and valour,

  First showne in lingring my deare brothers wreake.

  See what it is to give the envious world 95

  Advantage to diminish eminent virtue.

  Send him a challenge. Take a noble course

  To wreake a murther, done so like a villaine.

  Cler. Shall we revenge a villanie with villanie.

  Char. Is it not equall?

  Cler. Shall wee equall be with villaines? 100

  Is that your reason?

  Char. Cowardise evermore

  Flyes to the shield of reason.