Chapter III: Prologue (1)

_Not out of confidence that none but wee
Are able to present this tragedie,
Nor out of envie at the grace of late
It did receive, nor yet to derogate
From their deserts, who give out boldly that 5
They move with equall feet on the same flat;
Neither for all, nor any of such ends,
We offer it, gracious and noble friends,
To your review; wee, farre from emulation,
And (charitably judge) from imitation, 10
With this work entertaine you, a peece knowne,
And still beleev'd, in Court to be our owne.
To quit our claime, doubting our right or merit,
Would argue in us poverty of spirit
Which we must not subscribe to: Field is gone, 15
Whose action first did give it name, and one
Who came the neerest to him, is denide
By his gray beard to shew the height and pride
Of D'Ambois youth and braverie; yet to hold
Our title still a foot, and not grow cold 20
By giving it o're, a third man with his best
Of care and paines defends our interest;
As Richard he was lik'd, nor doe wee feare,
In personating D'Ambois, hee'le appeare
To faint, or goe lesse, so your free consent, 25
As heretofore, give him encouragement._

LINENOTES:

_Prologue._ The Prologue does not appear in A.

10 (_charitably judge_). So punctuated by ed. B has:--

_To your review, we farre from emulation
(And charitably judge from imitation)
With this work entertaine you, a peece knowne
And still beleev'd in Court to be our owne,
To quit our claime, doubting our right or merit,
Would argue in us poverty of spirit
Which we must not subscribe to._

13 _doubting_. In some copies of B this is misprinted
_oubting_.

[DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.[4:1]

HENRY III, King of France.
MONSIEUR, his brother.
THE DUKE OF GUISE.
MONTSURRY, a Count.
BUSSY D'AMBOIS.
BARRISOR, }
L'ANOU, } Courtiers: enemies of D'AMBOIS.
PYRHOT, }
BRISAC, }
MELYNELL, } Courtiers: friends of D'AMBOIS.
COMOLET, a Friar.
MAFFE, steward to MONSIEUR.
NUNCIUS.
MURDERERS.

BEHEMOTH, }
CARTOPHYLAX, } Spirits.
UMBRA OF FRIAR.

ELENOR, Duchess of Guise.
TAMYRA, Countess of Montsurry.
BEAUPRE, niece to ELENOR.
ANNABLE, maid to ELENOR.
PERO, maid to TAMYRA.
CHARLOTTE, maid to BEAUPRE.
PYRA, a court lady.
Courtiers, Ladies, Pages, Servants, Spirits, &c.

SCENE.--Paris[4:2]]

FOOTNOTES:

[4:1] The Quartos contain no list of _Dramatis Personæ_. One is however prefixed to D'Urfey's version (1691), with the names of the performers added. C. W. Dilke prefixed a somewhat imperfect one to his edition in vol. III of _Old English Plays_ (1814). W. L. Phelps, who did not know of Dilke's list, supplied a more correct one in his edition in the _Mermaid Series_ (1895). The subjoined list adds some fresh details, especially concerning the subordinate characters.

[4:2] Many episodes in Bussy D'Ambois's career, which took place in the Province of Anjou, are transferred in the play to Paris.

Bussy D'Ambois

A Tragedie

ACTUS PRIMI SCENA PRIMA.

[_A glade, near the Court._]

_Enter Bussy D'Ambois poore._

[_Bussy._] Fortune, not Reason, rules the state of things,
Reward goes backwards, Honor on his head,
Who is not poore is monstrous; only Need
Gives forme and worth to every humane seed.
As cedars beaten with continuall stormes, 5
So great men flourish; and doe imitate
Unskilfull statuaries, who suppose
(In forming a Colossus) if they make him
Stroddle enough, stroot, and look bigg, and gape,
Their work is goodly: so men meerely great 10
In their affected gravity of voice,
Sowrnesse of countenance, manners cruelty,
Authority, wealth, and all the spawne of Fortune,
Think they beare all the Kingdomes worth before them;
Yet differ not from those colossick statues, 15
Which, with heroique formes without o're-spread,
Within are nought but morter, flint and lead.
Man is a torch borne in the winde; a dreame
But of a shadow, summ'd with all his substance;
And as great seamen using all their wealth 20
And skills in Neptunes deepe invisible pathes,
In tall ships richly built and ribd with brasse,
To put a girdle round about the world,
When they have done it (comming neere their haven)
Are faine to give a warning peece, and call 25
A poore staid fisher-man, that never past
His countries sight, to waft and guide them in:
So when we wander furthest through the waves
Of glassie Glory, and the gulfes of State,
Topt with all titles, spreading all our reaches, 30
As if each private arme would sphere the earth,
Wee must to vertue for her guide resort,
Or wee shall shipwrack in our safest port. _Procumbit._

[_Enter_] _Monsieur with two Pages._

[_Monsieur._] There is no second place in numerous state
That holds more than a cypher: in a King 35
All places are contain'd. His words and looks
Are like the flashes and the bolts of Jove;
His deeds inimitable, like the sea
That shuts still as it opes, and leaves no tracts,
Nor prints of president for meane mens facts: 40
There's but a thred betwixt me and a crowne;
I would not wish it cut, unlesse by nature;
Yet to prepare me for that possible fortune,
'Tis good to get resolved spirits about mee.
I follow'd D'Ambois to this greene retreat; 45
A man of spirit beyond the reach of feare,
Who (discontent with his neglected worth)
Neglects the light, and loves obscure abodes;
But hee is young and haughty, apt to take
Fire at advancement, to beare state, and flourish; 50
In his rise therefore shall my bounties shine:
None lothes the world so much, nor loves to scoffe it,
But gold and grace will make him surfet of it.
What, D'Ambois!--

_Buss._ He, sir.

_Mons._ Turn'd to earth, alive!
Up man, the sunne shines on thee.

_Buss._ Let it shine: 55
I am no mote to play in't, as great men are.

_Mons._ Callest thou men great in state, motes in the sunne?
They say so that would have thee freeze in shades,
That (like the grosse Sicilian gurmundist)
Empty their noses in the cates they love, 60
That none may eat but they. Do thou but bring
Light to the banquet Fortune sets before thee
And thou wilt loath leane darknesse like thy death.
Who would beleeve thy mettall could let sloth
Rust and consume it? If Themistocles 65
Had liv'd obscur'd thus in th'Athenian State,
Xerxes had made both him and it his slaves.
If brave Camillus had lurckt so in Rome,
He had not five times beene Dictator there,
Nor foure times triumpht. If Epaminondas 70
(Who liv'd twice twenty yeeres obscur'd in Thebs)
Had liv'd so still, he had beene still unnam'd,
And paid his country nor himselfe their right:
But putting forth his strength he rescu'd both
From imminent ruine; and, like burnisht steele, 75
After long use he shin'd; for as the light
Not only serves to shew, but render us
Mutually profitable, so our lives
In acts exemplarie not only winne
Our selves good names, but doe to others give 80
Matter for vertuous deeds, by which wee live.

_Buss._ What would you wish me?

_Mons._ Leave the troubled streames,
And live where thrivers doe, at the well head.

_Buss._ At the well head? Alas! what should I doe
With that enchanted glasse? See devils there? 85
Or (like a strumpet) learne to set my looks
In an eternall brake, or practise jugling,
To keep my face still fast, my heart still loose;
Or beare (like dames schoolmistresses their riddles)
Two tongues, and be good only for a shift; 90
Flatter great lords, to put them still in minde
Why they were made lords; or please humorous ladies
With a good carriage, tell them idle tales,
To make their physick work; spend a man's life
In sights and visitations, that will make 95
His eyes as hollow as his mistresse heart:
To doe none good, but those that have no need;
To gaine being forward, though you break for haste
All the commandements ere you break your fast;
But beleeve backwards, make your period 100
And creeds last article, "I beleeve in God":
And (hearing villanies preacht) t'unfold their art,
Learne to commit them? Tis a great mans part.
Shall I learne this there?

_Mons._ No, thou needst not learne;
Thou hast the theorie; now goe there and practise. 105

_Buss._ I, in a thrid-bare suit; when men come there,
They must have high naps, and goe from thence bare:
A man may drowne the parts of ten rich men
In one poore suit; brave barks, and outward glosse
Attract Court loves, be in parts ne're so grosse. 110

_Mons._ Thou shalt have glosse enough, and all things fit
T'enchase in all shew thy long smothered spirit:
Be rul'd by me then. The old Scythians
Painted blinde Fortunes powerfull hands with wings,
To shew her gifts come swift and suddenly, 115
Which if her favorite be not swift to take,
He loses them for ever. Then be wise;

_Exit Mon[sieur] with Pages. Manet Buss[y]._

Stay but a while here, and I'le send to thee.

_Buss._ What will he send? some crowns? It is to sow them
Upon my spirit, and make them spring a crowne 120
Worth millions of the seed crownes he will send.
Like to disparking noble husbandmen,
Hee'll put his plow into me, plow me up;
But his unsweating thrift is policie,
And learning-hating policie is ignorant 125
To fit his seed-land soyl; a smooth plain ground
Will never nourish any politick seed.
I am for honest actions, not for great:
If I may bring up a new fashion,
And rise in Court for vertue, speed his plow! 130
The King hath knowne me long as well as hee,
Yet could my fortune never fit the length
Of both their understandings till this houre.
There is a deepe nicke in Times restlesse wheele
For each mans good, when which nicke comes, it strikes; 135
As rhetorick yet workes not perswasion,
But only is a meane to make it worke:
So no man riseth by his reall merit,
But when it cries "clincke" in his raisers spirit.
Many will say, that cannot rise at all, 140
Mans first houres rise is first step to his fall.
I'le venture that; men that fall low must die,
As well as men cast headlong from the skie.

_Ent[er] Maffe._

[_Maffe._] Humor of Princes! Is this wretch indu'd
With any merit worth a thousand crownes? 145
Will my lord have me be so ill a steward
Of his revenue, to dispose a summe
So great, with so small cause as shewes in him?
I must examine this. Is your name D'Ambois?

_Buss._ Sir?

_Maff._ Is your name D'Ambois?

_Buss._ Who have we here? 150
Serve you the Monsieur?

_Maff._ How?

_Buss._ Serve you the Monsieur?

_Maff._ Sir, y'are very hot. I doe serve the Monsieur;
But in such place as gives me the command
Of all his other servants: and because
His Graces pleasure is to give your good 155
His passe through my command, me thinks you might
Use me with more respect.

_Buss._ Crie you mercy!
Now you have opened my dull eies, I see you,
And would be glad to see the good you speake of:
What might I call your name?

_Maff._ Monsieur Maffe. 160

_Buss._ Monsieur Maffe? Then, good Monsieur Maffe,
Pray let me know you better.

_Maff._ Pray doe so,
That you may use me better. For your selfe,
By your no better outside, I would judge you
To be some poet. Have you given my lord 165
Some pamphlet?

_Buss._ Pamphlet!

_Maff._ Pamphlet, sir, I say.

_Buss._ Did your great masters goodnesse leave the good,
That is to passe your charge to my poore use,
To your discretion?

_Maff._ Though he did not, sir,
I hope 'tis no rude office to aske reason 170
How that his Grace gives me in charge, goes from me?

_Buss._ That's very perfect, sir.

_Maff._ Why, very good, sir;
I pray, then, give me leave. If for no pamphlet,
May I not know what other merit in you
Makes his compunction willing to relieve you? 175

_Buss._ No merit in the world, sir.

_Maff._ That is strange.
Y'are a poore souldier, are you?

_Buss._ That I am, sir.

_Maff._ And have commanded?

_Buss._ I, and gone without, sir.

_Maff._ I see the man: a hundred crownes will make him
Swagger, and drinke healths to his Graces bountie, 180
And sweare he could not be more bountifull;
So there's nine hundred crounes sav'd. Here, tall souldier,
His Grace hath sent you a whole hundred crownes.

_Buss._ A hundred, sir! Nay, doe his Highnesse right;
I know his hand is larger, and perhaps 185
I may deserve more than my outside shewes.
I am a poet as I am a souldier,
And I can poetise; and (being well encourag'd)
May sing his fame for giving; yours for delivering
(Like a most faithfull steward) what he gives. 190

_Maff._ What shall your subject be?

_Buss._ I care not much
If to his bounteous Grace I sing the praise
Of faire great noses, and to you of long ones.
What qualities have you, sir, (beside your chaine
And velvet jacket)? Can your Worship dance? 195

_Maff._ A pleasant fellow, faith; it seemes my lord
Will have him for his jester; and, berlady,
Such men are now no fooles; 'tis a knights place.
If I (to save his Grace some crounes) should urge him
T'abate his bountie, I should not be heard; 200
I would to heaven I were an errant asse,
For then I should be sure to have the eares
Of these great men, where now their jesters have them.
Tis good to please him, yet Ile take no notice
Of his preferment, but in policie 205
Will still be grave and serious, lest he thinke
I feare his woodden dagger. Here, Sir Ambo!

_Buss._ How, Ambo, Sir?

_Maff._ I, is not your name Ambo?

_Buss._ You call'd me lately D'Amboys; has your Worship
So short a head?

_Maff._ I cry thee mercy, D'Amboys. 210
A thousand crownes I bring you from my lord;
If you be thriftie, and play the good husband, you may make
This a good standing living; 'tis a bountie,
His Highnesse might perhaps have bestow'd better.

_Buss._ Goe, y'are a rascall; hence, away, you rogue!
[_Strikes him._] 215

_Maff._ What meane you, sir?

_Buss._ Hence! prate no more!
Or, by thy villans bloud, thou prat'st thy last!
A barbarous groome grudge at his masters bountie!
But since I know he would as much abhorre
His hinde should argue what he gives his friend, 220
Take that, Sir, for your aptnesse to dispute. _Exit._

_Maff._ These crownes are set in bloud; bloud be their fruit!
_Exit._

LINENOTES:

5 _continuall_. A, incessant.

8 _forming_. A, forging.

10 _men meerely great_. A, our tympanouse statists.

20 _wealth_. A, powers.

25 _faine_. A, glad.

31 _earth_. A, world.

40 _meane_. A, poore.

43 _possible_. A, likely.

44 _good to_. A, fit I.

57 _Callest_. A, Think'st.

80 _doe_. A, doth.

82 _me_? A, me doe.

92 _humorous_. A, portly.

102-3 _And . . . part_. Repunctuated by ed. Qq have:--

And (hearing villanies preacht) t'unfold their Art
Learne to commit them, Tis a great mans Part.

110 _loves_. A, eies.

113 _old_. A, rude.

117 _be wise_. A, be rul'd.

122-125 _Like . . . ignorant_. A omits.

126 _To fit his seed-land soyl_. A, But hee's no husband
heere.

130 _for_. A, with.

153 After this line B inserts: Table, Chesbord & Tapers
behind the Arras. This relates not to the present
Scene, but to Scene 2, where the King and Guise play
chess (cf. I, 2, 184). Either it has been inserted,
by a printer's error, prematurely; or, more probably,
it may be an instruction to the "prompter" to see
that the properties needed in the next Scene are
ready, which has crept from an acting version of the
play into the Quartos.

156 _His passe_. A, A passe.

157 _respect_. A, good fashion.

167 _your great masters goodnesse_. A, his wise
excellencie.

170 _rude_. A, bad.

180 _Graces_. A, highnes.

192 _bounteous Grace_. A, excellence.

193 _and to you of long ones_. A has:--

And to your deserts
The reverend vertues of a faithfull steward.

196 _pleasant_. A, merrie.

197 _berlady_. A, beleeve it.

199 _his Grace_. A, my Lord.

208-210. _How . . . D'Amboys_. A omits.

212 _If you be thriftie, and_. A, Serve God.

[SCENA SECUNDA.

_A room in the Court._]

_Henry, Guise, Montsurry, Elenor, Tamyra, Beaupre, Pero,
Charlotte, Pyra, Annable._

_Henry._ Duchesse of Guise, your Grace is much enricht
In the attendance of that English virgin,
That will initiate her prime of youth,
(Dispos'd to Court conditions) under the hand
Of your prefer'd instructions and command, 5
Rather than any in the English Court,
Whose ladies are not matcht in Christendome
For gracefull and confirm'd behaviours,
More than the Court, where they are bred, is equall'd.

_Guise._ I like not their Court-fashion; it is too crestfalne 10
In all observance, making demi-gods
Of their great nobles; and of their old Queene
An ever-yong and most immortall goddesse.

_Montsurry._ No question shee's the rarest Queene in Europe.

_Guis._ But what's that to her immortality? 15

_Henr._ Assure you, cosen Guise, so great a courtier,
So full of majestic and roiall parts,
No Queene in Christendome may vaunt her selfe.
Her Court approves it: that's a Court indeed,
Not mixt with clowneries us'd in common houses; 20
But, as Courts should be th'abstracts of their Kingdomes,
In all the beautie, state, and worth they hold,
So is hers, amplie, and by her inform'd.
The world is not contracted in a man,
With more proportion and expression, 25
Than in her Court, her kingdome. Our French Court
Is a meere mirror of confusion to it:
The king and subject, lord and every slave,
Dance a continuall haie; our roomes of state
Kept like our stables; no place more observ'd 30
Than a rude market-place: and though our custome
Keepe this assur'd confusion from our eyes,
'Tis nere the lesse essentially unsightly,
Which they would soone see, would they change their forme
To this of ours, and then compare them both; 35
Which we must not affect, because in kingdomes,
Where the Kings change doth breed the subjects terror,
Pure innovation is more grosse than error.

_Mont._ No question we shall see them imitate
(Though a farre off) the fashions of our Courts, 40
As they have ever ap't us in attire;
Never were men so weary of their skins,
And apt to leape out of themselves as they;
Who, when they travell to bring forth rare men,
Come home delivered of a fine French suit: 45
Their braines lie with their tailors, and get babies
For their most compleat issue; hee's sole heire
To all the morall vertues that first greetes
The light with a new fashion, which becomes them
Like apes, disfigur'd with the attires of men. 50

_Henr._ No question they much wrong their reall worth
In affectation of outlandish scumme;
But they have faults, and we more: they foolish-proud
To jet in others plumes so haughtely;
We proud that they are proud of foolerie, 55
Holding our worthes more compleat for their vaunts.

_Enter Monsieur, D'Ambois._

_Monsieur._ Come, mine owne sweet heart, I will enter thee.
Sir, I have brought a gentleman to court;
And pray, you would vouchsafe to doe him grace.

_Henr._ D'Ambois, I thinke.

_Bussy._ That's still my name, my lord, 60
Though I be something altered in attire.

_Henr._ We like your alteration, and must tell you,
We have expected th'offer of your service;
For we (in feare to make mild vertue proud)
Use not to seeke her out in any man. 65

_Buss._ Nor doth she use to seeke out any man:
He that will winne, must wooe her: she's not shameless.

_Mons._ I urg'd her modestie in him, my lord,
And gave her those rites that he sayes shee merits.

_Henr._ If you have woo'd and won, then, brother, weare him. 70

_Mons._ Th'art mine, sweet heart! See, here's the Guises Duches;
The Countesse of Mountsurreaue, Beaupre.
Come, I'le enseame thee. Ladies, y'are too many
To be in counsell: I have here a friend
That I would gladly enter in your graces. 75

_Buss._ 'Save you, ladyes!

_Duchess._ If you enter him in our graces, my
lord, me thinkes, by his blunt behaviour he should
come out of himselfe.

_Tamyra._ Has he never beene courtier, my 80
lord?

_Mons._ Never, my lady.

_Beaupre._ And why did the toy take him inth'
head now?

_Buss._ Tis leape yeare, lady, and therefore very 85
good to enter a courtier.

_Henr._ Marke, Duchesse of Guise, there is
one is not bashfull.

_Duch._ No my lord, he is much guilty of the
bold extremity. 90

_Tam._ The man's a courtier at first sight.

_Buss._ I can sing pricksong, lady, at first
sight; and why not be a courtier as suddenly?

_Beaup._ Here's a courtier rotten before he be
ripe. 95

_Buss._ Thinke me not impudent, lady; I am
yet no courtier; I desire to be one and would
gladly take entrance, madam, under your
princely colours.

_Enter Barrisor, L'Anou, Pyrhot._

_Duch._ Soft sir, you must rise by degrees, first 100
being the servant of some common Lady or
Knights wife, then a little higher to a Lords
wife; next a little higher to a Countesse; yet a
little higher to a Duchesse, and then turne the
ladder. 105

_Buss._ Doe you alow a man then foure mistresses,
when the greatest mistresse is alowed
but three servants?

_Duch._ Where find you that statute sir.

_Buss._ Why be judged by the groome-porters. 110

_Duch._ The groome-porters!

_Buss._ I, madam, must not they judge of all
gamings i'th' Court?

_Duch._ You talke like a gamester.

_Gui._ Sir, know you me? 115

_Buss._ My lord!

_Gui._ I know not you; whom doe you serve?

_Buss._ Serve, my lord!

_Gui._ Go to companion; your courtship's too
saucie. 120

_Buss._ Saucie! Companion! tis the Guise,
but yet those termes might have beene spar'd of
the guiserd. Companion! He's jealous, by this
light. Are you blind of that side, Duke? Ile
to her againe for that. Forth, princely mistresse, 125
for the honour of courtship. Another riddle.

_Gui._ Cease your courtshippe, or, by heaven,
Ile cut your throat.

_Buss._ Cut my throat? cut a whetstone, young
Accius Noevius! Doe as much with your 130
tongue as he did with a rasor. Cut my throat!

_Barrisor._ What new-come gallant have wee
heere, that dares mate the Guise thus?

_L'Anou._ Sfoot, tis D'Ambois! the Duke mistakes
him (on my life) for some Knight of the 135
new edition.

_Buss._ Cut my throat! I would the King
fear'd thy cutting of his throat no more than I
feare thy cutting of mine.

_Gui._ Ile doe't, by this hand. 140

_Buss._ That hand dares not doe't; y'ave cut
too many throats already, Guise, and robb'd the
realme of many thousand soules, more precious
than thine owne. Come, madam, talk on. Sfoot,
can you not talk? Talk on, I say. Another 145
riddle.

_Pyrhot._ Here's some strange distemper.

_Bar._ Here's a sudden transmigration with
D'Ambois, out of the Knights ward into the
Duches bed. 150

_L'An._ See what a metamorphosis a brave
suit can work.

_Pyr._ Slight! step to the Guise, and discover
him.

_Bar._ By no meanes; let the new suit work; 155
wee'll see the issue.

_Gui._ Leave your courting.

_Buss._ I will not. I say, mistresse, and I will
stand unto it, that if a woman may have three
servants, a man may have threescore mistresses. 160

_Gui._ Sirrha, Ile have you whipt out of the
Court for this insolence.

_Buss._ Whipt! Such another syllable out a
th'presence, if thou dar'st, for thy Dukedome.

_Gui._ Remember, poultron! 165

_Mons._ Pray thee forbeare!

_Buss._ Passion of death! Were not the King
here, he should strow the chamber like a rush.

_Mons._ But leave courting his wife then.

_Buss._ I wil not: Ile court her in despight of 170
him. Not court her! Come madam, talk on;
feare me nothing. [_To Guise._] Well mai'st
thou drive thy master from the Court, but never
D'Ambois.

_Mons._ His great heart will not down, tis like the sea, 175
That partly by his owne internall heat,
Partly the starrs daily and nightly motion,
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._

LINENOTES:

2 _that_. A, this.

4 _the_. A omits.

10 _Court-fashion_. A, Court forme.

11 _demi-gods_. A, semi-gods.

14-15 _No question . . . immortality_. A omits.

18 _vaunt_. A, boast.

20 _clowneries_. A, rudenesse.

32 _confusion_. A, deformitie.

47 _sole heire_. A, first borne.

53 _more_. A omits.

54 _To jet . . . haughtely_. A, To be the pictures of
our vanitie.

56 _Holding . . . vaunts_. A omits.

58 _a_. A, this. _to court_. A, t'attend you.

60-61 _That's . . . attire_. Printed as prose in Qq.

62, 63 _We_. A, I.

67 So in A: B has only: They that will winne, must wooe
her.

71 _sweet heart_. A, my love.

68-75. _I urg'd . . . graces_. Printed as prose in Qq.

76 _'Save you, ladyes_! A omits.

87-90 _Marke . . . extremity_. A omits.

_Enter . . . Pyrhot_. After l. 146 in A.

100-114 _Soft . . . gamester_. A omits.

124 _Duke_. A, Sir.

125 _princely mistresse_. A, madam.

126 _Another riddle_. A omits.

129 _young_. A, good.

132-139, and an additional line: "_Gui._ So, sir, so,"
inserted after l. 146 in A.

141-145 Set as verse in B, the lines ending in _many_, _of_,
_owne_, _talk_.

145-146 _Another riddle_. A, More courtship, as you love it.

178 _Their heat_. A, Ardor.

204 _braying_. A, roaring.

227 _miraculous jealousie_. A, strange credulitie.

229 _the matter of_. A omits.

227-231 _O . . . you_. Printed as three lines of verse,
ending in _selfe_, _into_, _you_.

235 _in_. A, with.

241 _else_. A omits.

ACTUS SECUND[i.] 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.

_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._

LINENOTES:

_Montsurry, and Attendants._ A, Beaumond, Nuncius.

11 _Where_. A, When.

27 _their_. A, his.

70 _Sparkl'd_. So in A; B, Spakl'd.

105 [_Montsurry._] Emend. ed.: Beau. Qq; see note 30, p.
149.

120 _a foot_. A, an eie.

128 _th'_. A, the.

129 _spirit_. A, spirits.

133 _All slaine outright_? So in A; B, All slaine
outright but hee?

135 _freckled_. A, feebled.

166 _true_. A, full.

185 _violent_. So in A; B, daring.

204 _law_. A, King.

206 _cum [Montsurry.]_ Emend. ed.: Qq, cum Beau. See note
30, p. 149.

207 _Mort dieu_. A; B omits.

210-218 _And now . . . hated_. A omits, inserting instead:

_Buss._ How shall I quite your love?

_Mons._ Be true to the
end.
I have obtained a kingdome with my friend.

[ACTUS SECUNDI 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,
Had he encounterd me with such proud sleight,
I would have put that project face of his 15
To a more test than did her Dutchesship.

_Beau._ Why (by your leave, my lord) Ile speake it heere,
(Although she be my ante) she scarce was modest,
When she perceived the Duke, her husband, take
Those late exceptions to her servants courtship, 20
To entertaine him.

_Tam._ I, and stand him still,
Letting her husband give her servant place:
Though he did manly, she should be a woman.

_Enter Guise._

[_Guise._] D'Ambois is pardond! wher's a King? where law?
See how it runnes, much like a turbulent sea; 25
Heere high and glorious, as it did contend
To wash the heavens, and make the stars more pure;
And heere so low, it leaves the mud of hell
To every common view. Come, Count Montsurry,
We must consult of this.

_Tam._ Stay not, sweet lord. 30

_Mont._ Be pleased; Ile strait returne. _Exit cum Guise._

_Tam._ Would that would please me!

_Beau._ Ile leave you, madam, to your passions;
I see ther's change of weather in your lookes. _Exit cum suis._

_Tam._ I cannot cloake it; but, as when a fume,
Hot, drie, and grosse, within the wombe of earth 35
Or in her superficies begot,
When extreame cold hath stroke it to her heart,
The more it is comprest, the more it rageth,
Exceeds his prisons strength that should containe it,
And then it tosseth temples in the aire, 40
All barres made engines to his insolent fury:
So, of a sudden, my licentious fancy
Riots within me: not my name and house,
Nor my religion to this houre observ'd,
Can stand above it; I must utter that 45
That will in parting breake more strings in me,
Than death when life parts; and that holy man
That, from my cradle, counseld for my soule,
I now must make an agent for my bloud.

_Enter Monsieur._

_Monsieur._ Yet is my mistresse gratious?

_Tam._ Yet unanswered? 50

_Mons._ Pray thee regard thine owne good, if not mine,
And cheere my love for that: you doe not know
What you may be by me, nor what without me;
I may have power t'advance and pull downe any.

_Tam._ That's not my study. One way I am sure 55
You shall not pull downe me; my husbands height
Is crowne to all my hopes, and his retiring
To any meane state, shall be my aspiring.
Mine honour's in mine owne hands, spite of kings.

_Mons._ Honour, what's that? your second maydenhead: 60
And what is that? a word: the word is gone,
The thing remaines; the rose is pluckt, the stalk
Abides: an easie losse where no lack's found.
Beleeve it, there's as small lack in the losse
As there is paine ith' losing. Archers ever 65
Have two strings to a bow, and shall great Cupid
(Archer of archers both in men and women)
Be worse provided than a common archer?
A husband and a friend all wise wives have.

_Tam._ Wise wives they are that on such strings depend, 70
With a firme husband joyning a lose friend.

_Mons._ Still you stand on your husband; so doe all
The common sex of you, when y'are encounter'd
With one ye cannot fancie: all men know
You live in Court here by your owne election, 75
Frequenting all our common sports and triumphs,
All the most youthfull company of men.
And wherefore doe you this? To please your husband?
Tis grosse and fulsome: if your husbands pleasure
Be all your object, and you ayme at honour 80
In living close to him, get you from Court,
You may have him at home; these common put-ofs
For common women serve: "my honour! husband!"
Dames maritorious ne're were meritorious:
Speak plaine, and say "I doe not like you, sir, 85
Y'are an ill-favour'd fellow in my eye,"
And I am answer'd.

_Tam._ Then I pray be answer'd:
For in good faith, my lord, I doe not like you
In that sort you like.

_Mons._ Then have at you here!
Take (with a politique hand) this rope of pearle; 90
And though you be not amorous, yet be wise:
Take me for wisedom; he that you can love
Is nere the further from you.

_Tam._ Now it comes
So ill prepar'd, that I may take a poyson
Under a medicine as good cheap as it: 95
I will not have it were it worth the world.

_Mons._ Horror of death! could I but please your eye,
You would give me the like, ere you would loose me.
"Honour and husband!"

_Tam._ By this light, my lord,
Y'are a vile fellow; and Ile tell the King 100
Your occupation of dishonouring ladies,
And of his Court. A lady cannot live
As she was borne, and with that sort of pleasure
That fits her state, but she must be defam'd
With an infamous lords detraction: 105
Who would endure the Court if these attempts,
Of open and profest lust must be borne?--
Whose there? come on, dame, you are at your book
When men are at your mistresse; have I taught you
Any such waiting womans quality? 110

_Mons._ Farewell, good "husband"! _Exit Mons[ieur]._

_Tam._ Farewell, wicked lord!

_Enter Mont[surry]._

_Mont._ Was not the Monsieur here?

_Tam._ Yes, to good purpose;
And your cause is as good to seek him too,
And haunt his company.

_Mont._ Why, what's the matter?

_Tam._ Matter of death, were I some husbands wife: 115
I cannot live at quiet in my chamber
For oportunities almost to rapes
Offerd me by him.

_Mont._ Pray thee beare with him:
Thou know'st he is a bachelor, and a courtier,
I, and a Prince: and their prerogatives 120
Are to their lawes, as to their pardons are
Their reservations, after Parliaments--
One quits another; forme gives all their essence.
That Prince doth high in vertues reckoning stand
That will entreat a vice, and not command: 125
So farre beare with him; should another man
Trust to his priviledge, he should trust to death:
Take comfort then (my comfort), nay, triumph,
And crown thy selfe; thou part'st with victory:
My presence is so onely deare to thee 130
That other mens appeare worse than they be:
For this night yet, beare with my forced absence:
Thou know'st my businesse; and with how much weight
My vow hath charged it.

_Tam._ True, my lord, and never
My fruitlesse love shall let your serious honour; 135
Yet, sweet lord, do no stay; you know my soule
Is so long time with out me, and I dead,
As you are absent.

_Mont._ By this kisse, receive
My soule for hostage, till I see my love.

_Tam._ The morne shall let me see you?

_Mont._ With the sunne 140
Ile visit thy more comfortable beauties.

_Tam._ This is my comfort, that the sunne hath left
The whole worlds beauty ere my sunne leaves me.

_Mont._ Tis late night now, indeed: farewell, my light! _Exit._

_Tam._ Farewell, my light and life! but not in him, 145
In mine owne dark love and light bent to another.
Alas! that in the wane of our affections
We should supply it with a full dissembling,
In which each youngest maid is grown a mother.
Frailty is fruitfull, one sinne gets another: 150
Our loves like sparkles are that brightest shine
When they goe out; most vice shewes most divine.
Goe, maid, to bed; lend me your book, I pray,
Not, like your selfe, for forme. Ile this night trouble
None of your services: make sure the dores, 155
And call your other fellowes to their rest.

_Per._ I will--yet I will watch to know why you watch. _Exit._

_Tam._ Now all yee peacefull regents of the night,
Silently-gliding exhalations,
Languishing windes, and murmuring falls of waters, 160
Sadnesse of heart, and ominous securenesse,
Enchantments, dead sleepes, all the friends of rest,
That ever wrought upon the life of man,
Extend your utmost strengths, and this charm'd houre
Fix like the Center! make the violent wheeles 165
Of Time and Fortune stand, and great Existens,
(The Makers treasurie) now not seeme to be
To all but my approaching friends and me!
They come, alas, they come! Feare, feare and hope
Of one thing, at one instant, fight in me: 170
I love what most I loath, and cannot live,
Unlesse I compasse that which holds my death;
For life's meere death, loving one that loathes me,
And he I love will loath me, when he sees
I flie my sex, my vertue, my renowne, 175
To runne so madly on a man unknowne. _The Vault opens._
See, see, a vault is opening that was never
Knowne to my lord and husband, nor to any
But him that brings the man I love, and me.
How shall I looke on him? how shall I live, 180
And not consume in blushes? I will in;
And cast my selfe off, as I ne're had beene. _Exit._

_Ascendit Frier and D'Ambois._

_Friar._ Come, worthiest sonne, I am past measure glad
That you (whose worth I have approv'd so long)
Should be the object of her fearefull love; 185
Since both your wit and spirit can adapt
Their full force to supply her utmost weaknesse.
You know her worths and vertues, for report
Of all that know is to a man a knowledge:
You know besides that our affections storme, 190
Rais'd in our blood, no reason can reforme.
Though she seeke then their satisfaction
(Which she must needs, or rest unsatisfied)
Your judgement will esteeme her peace thus wrought
Nothing lesse deare than if your selfe had sought: 195
And (with another colour, which my art
Shall teach you to lay on) your selfe must seeme
The only agent, and the first orbe move
In this our set and cunning world of love.

_Bussy._ Give me the colour (my most honour'd father) 200
And trust my cunning then to lay it on.