Chapter XXXI: Act I: Scene I.899

_Enter_ BUSSY D’AMBOIS, _poor_.

_Bu._ Fortune, not Reason, rules the state of things,
Reward goes backwards, Honour on his head;
Who is not poor, is monstrous; only need
Gives form and worth to every human seed.
As cedars beaten with continual storms, 5
So great men flourish; and do imitate
Unskilful statuaries, who suppose,
In forming a Colossus, if they make him
Straddle enough, strut, and look big, and gape,
Their work is goodly: so men merely great 10
In their affected gravity of voice,
Sourness of countenance, manners’ cruelty,
Authority, wealth, and all the spawn of fortune,
Think they bear all the kingdom’s worth before them;
Yet differ not from those colossic statues, 15
Which, with heroic forms without o’erspread,
Within are nought but mortar, flint, and lead.
Man is a torch borne in the wind; a dream
But of a shadow, summ’d with all his substance;
And as great seamen, using all their wealth 20
And skills in Neptune’s deep invisible paths,
In tall ships richly built and ribb’d with brass,
To put a girdle round about the world,
When they have done it (coming near their haven)
Are glad to give a warning-piece,[900] and call 25
A poor, staid fisherman, that never past
His country’s sight, to waft and guide them in:
So when we wander furthest through the waves
Of glassy Glory, and the gulfs of State, 29
Topt with all titles, spreading all our reaches,
As if each private arm would sphere the earth,
We must to Virtue for her guide resort,
Or we shall shipwrack in our safest port.
_Procumbit._

[_Enter_] Monsieur, _with two_ Pages.

[_Mo._] There is no second place in numerous state[901]
That holds more than a cipher; in a king 35
All places are contain’d. His word and looks
Are like the flashes and the bolts of Jove;
His deeds inimitable, like the sea 38
That shuts still as it opes, and leaves no tracts
Nor prints of precedent for mean men’s facts:[902]
There’s but a thread betwixt me and a crown:
I would not wish it cut, unless by nature;
Yet to prepare me for that possible fortune,
’Tis good to get resolved spirits about me.
I follow’d D’Ambois to this green retreat; 45
A man of spirit beyond the reach of fear,
Who (discontent with his neglected worth)
Neglects the light, and loves obscure abodes;
But he is young and haughty, apt to take
Fire at advancement, to bear state and flourish; 50
In his rise therefore shall my bounties shine.
None loathes the world so much, nor loves to scoff it,
But gold and grace will make him surfeit of it.
What, D’Ambois?

_Bu._ He, sir.

_Mo._ Turn’d to earth, alive?
Up, man; the sun shines on thee.

_Bu._ Let it shine:
I am no mote to play in ’t, as great men are. 56

_Mo._ Call’st thou men great in state, motes in the sun?
They say so that would have thee freeze in shades,
They (like the gross Sicilian gourmandist)
Empty their noses in the cates[903] they love, 60
That none may eat but they. Do thou but bring
Light to the banquet Fortune sets before thee,
And thou wilt loathe lean darkness like thy death.
Who would believe thy mettle 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 lurkt so in Rome,
He had not five times been Dictator there,
Nor four times triumpht. If Epaminondas 70
(Who liv’d twice twenty years obscur’d in Thebes)
Had liv’d so still, he had been still unnam’d,
And paid his country nor himself their right;
But putting forth his strength, he rescu’d both
From imminent ruin; and, like burnisht steel, 75
After long-use he shin’d; for as the light
Not only serves to show, but render us
Mutually profitable; so our lives
In acts exemplary, not only win
Ourselves good names, but do to others give 80
Matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live.

_Bu._ What would you wish me?

_Mo._ Leave the troubled streams,
And live, as thrivers do, at the well-head.

_Bu._ At the well-head? Alas, what should I do
With that enchanted glass? See devils there?
Or, like a strumpet, learn to set my looks 86
In an eternal brake,[904] or practise juggling,
To keep my face still fast, my heart still loose;
Or bear (like dame’s schoolmistresses their riddles)
Two tongues, and be good only for a shift;[905] 90
Flatter great lords, to put them still in mind
Why they were made lords; or please humorous[906] ladies
With a good carriage, tell them idle tales
To make their physic work; spend a man’s life
In sights and visitations, that will make 95
His eyes as hollow as his mistress’ heart:
To do none good, but those that have no need;
To gain being forward, though you break for haste
All the commandments ere you break your fast;
But believe backwards, make your period 100
And creed’s last article, “I believe in God ”;
And (hearing villanies preacht) t’unfold their art,
Learn to commit them: ’tis a great man’s part.
Shall I learn this there?

_Mo._ No, thou need’st not learn,
Thou hast the theory; now go there and practise. 105

_Bu._ Ay, in a threadbare suit; when men come there,
They must have high naps,[907] and go from thence bare:
A man may drown the parts[908] of ten rich men
In one poor suit; brave barks[909] and outward gloss
Attract Court loves, be in parts ne’er so gross.

_Mo._ Thou shalt have gloss enough, and all things fit 111
T’enchase in all show thy long-smothered spirit:
Be rul’d by me then. The old Scythians
Painted blind Fortune’s powerful hands with wings,
To show her gifts come swift and suddenly, 115
Which, if her favourite be not swift to take,
He loses them for ever. Then be wise:
Stay but awhile here, and I’ll send to thee.
_Exit_ Monsieur _with_ Pages.

_Bu._ What will he send? Some crowns? It is to sow them 119
Upon my spirit, and make them spring a crown
Worth millions of the seed-crowns he will send.
Like to disparking[910] noble husbandmen,
He’ll put his plow into me, plow me up.
But his unsweating thrift is policy,
And learning-hating policy is ignorant 125
To fit his seed-land soil; a smooth plain ground
Will never nourish any politic seed.
I am for honest actions, not for great:
If I may bring up a new fashion,
And rise in Court for virtue, speed his plow! 130
The King hath known me long as well as he,
Yet could my fortune never fit the length
Of both their understandings till this hour.
There is a deep nick in Time’s restless wheel
For each man’s good, when which nick comes, it strikes; 135
As rhetoric yet works not persuasion,
But only is a mean to make it work,
So no man riseth by his real merit,
But when it cries “clink” in his raiser’s spirit,
Many will say, that cannot rise at all, 140
Man’s first hour’s rise is first step to his fall.
I’ll venture that; men that fall low must die,
As well as men cast headlong from the sky.

_Enter_ MAFFE.

_Ma._ Humour of princes! Is this wretch endu’d
With any merit worth a thousand crowns? 145
Will my lord have me be so ill a steward
Of his revenue, to dispose a sum
So great with so small cause as shows in him?
I must examine this. Is your name D’Ambois?

_Bu._ Sir?

_Ma._ Is your name D’Ambois?

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

_Ma._ How?

_Bu._ Serve you the Monsieur?

_Ma._ Sir, y’are very hot. I do serve the Monsieur;
But in such place as gives me the command
Of all his other servants. And because
His grace’s pleasure is to give your good 155
His pass[911] through my command, methinks you might
Use me with more respect.

_Bu._ Cry you mercy![912]
Now you have opened my dull eyes, I see you,
And would be glad to see the good you speak of.
What might I call your name?

_Ma._ Monsieur Maffe.

_Bu._ Monsieur Maffe? Then, good Monsieur Maffe, 161
Pray let me know you better.

_Ma._ Pray do so,
That you may use me better. For yourself,
By your no better outside, I would judge you
To be some poet; have you given my lord 165
Some pamphlet?

_Bu._ Pamphlet?

_Ma._ Pamphlet, sir, I say.

_Bu._ Did your great master’s goodness leave the good
That is to pass your charge to my poor use,
To your discretion?

_Ma._ Though he did not, sir,
I hope ’tis no rude office to ask reason 170
How that his grace gives me in charge, goes from me?

_Bu._ That’s very perfect, sir.

_Ma._ Why, very good, sir;
I pray then give me leave; if for no pamphlet,
May I not know what other merit in you, 174
Makes his compunction willing to relieve you?

_Bu._ No merit in the world, sir.

_Ma._ That is strange.
Y’are a poor soldier, are you?

_Bu._ That I am, sir.

_Ma._ And have commanded?

_Bu._ Ay, and gone without, sir.

_Ma._ [_Aside._] I see the man; a hundred crowns will make him 179
Swagger and drink healths to his grace’s bounty,
And swear he could not be more bountiful;
So there’s nine hundred crowns sav’d.—Here, tall soldier,
His grace hath sent you a whole hundred crowns.

_Bu._ A hundred, sir? Nay, do his highness right;
I know his hand is larger, and perhaps 185
I may deserve more than my outside shows.
I am a scholar, as I am a soldier,
And I can poetise; and (being well encourag’d)
May sing his fame for giving; yours for delivering 189
(Like a most faithful steward) what he gives.

_Ma._ What shall your subject be?

_Bu._ I care not much
If to his bounteous grace I sing the praise
Of fair great noses, and to you of long ones.
What qualities have you, sir, beside your chain[913]
And velvet jacket?[913] Can your worship dance?

_Ma._ A pleasant fellow, faith; it seems my lord 196
Will have him for his jester; and by ’r lady,
Such men are now no fools; ’tis a knight’s place.
If I (to save his grace some crowns) should urge him
T’ abate his bounty, I should not be heard; 200
I would to heaven I were an errant ass,
For then I should be sure to have the ears
Of these great men, where now their jesters have them.
’Tis good to please him, yet I’ll take no notice
Of his preferment, but in policy 205
Will still be grave and serious, lest he think
I fear his wooden dagger.[914] Here, sir Ambo!

_Bu._ How, Ambo, sir?

_Ma._ Ay, is not your name Ambo?

_Bu._ You call’d me lately D’Ambois; has your worship
So short a head?

_Ma._ I cry thee mercy, D’Ambois.
A thousand crowns I bring you from my lord.
If you be thrifty, and play the good husband, you may make 212
This a good standing living: ’tis a bounty
His highness might perhaps have bestow’d better.

_Bu._ Go, y’are a rascal; hence, away, you rogue! 215

_Ma._ What mean you, sir?

_Bu._ Hence! prate no more!
Or, by thy villain’s blood, thou prat’st thy last!
A barbarous groom grudge at his master’s bounty!
But since I know he would as much abhor 210
His hind should argue what he gives his friend,
Take that, sir, for your aptness to dispute.
[_Strikes him._] _Exit._

_Ma._ These crowns are set in blood; blood be their fruit. _Exit._

[Scene II.][915]

[_Enter_] HENRY, GUISE, MONTSURRY, ELENOR, TAMYRA, BEAUPRE, PERO, CHARLOTTE, PYRA, ANNABELLE.

_He._ Duchess 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 preferr’d instructions and command, 5
Rather than any in the English Court,
Whose ladies are not matcht in Christendom
For graceful and confirm’d behaviours;
More than the Court, where they are bred, is equall’d.

_Gu._ I like not their Court fashion; it is too crestfall’n 10
In all observance, making demigods
Of their great nobles; and of their old queen,
An ever-young and most immortal goddess.

_Mo._ No question she’s the rarest queen in Europe.

_Gu._ But what’s that to her immortality? 15

_He._ Assure you, cousin Guise, so great a courtier,
So full of majesty and royal parts,
No queen in Christendom may vaunt herself.
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 kingdoms,
In all the beauty, state, and worth they hold;
So is hers, amply, and by her inform’d.
The world is not contracted in a man
With more proportion and expression, 25
Than in her Court, her kingdom. Our French Court
Is a mere mirror of confusion to it:
The king and subject, lord and every slave,
Dance a continual hay;[916] our rooms of state
Kept like our stables; no place more observ’d
Than a rude market-place: and though our custom 31
Keep this assur’d confusion from our eyes,
’Tis ne’er the less essentially unsightly,
Which they would soon see, would they change their form 34
To this of ours, and then compare them both;
Which we must not affect,[917] because in kingdoms
Where the king’s change doth breed the subject’s terror,
Pure innovation is more gross than error.

_Mo._ No question we shall see them imitate
(Though afar off) the fashions of our Courts, 40
As they have ever ap’d us in attire.
Never were men so weary of their skins,
And apt to leap out of themselves as they;
Who, when they travel[918] to bring forth rare men,
Come home, delivered of a fine French suit. 45
Their brains lie with their tailors, and get babies
For their most complete issue; he’s sole heir
To all the moral virtues that first greets
The light with a new fashion, which becomes them
Like apes, disfigur’d with the attires of men. 50

_He._ No question they much wrong their real worth
In affectation of outlandish scum;
But they have faults, and we more; they foolish-proud
To jet[919] in others’ plumes so haughtily;
We proud, that they are proud of foolery, 55
Holding our worths more complete for their vaunts.

_Enter_ Monsieur, D’AMBOIS.

_Mo._ Come, mine own sweetheart, I will enter thee.—
Sir, I have brought a gentleman to Court,
And pray you would vouchsafe to do him grace.

_He._ D’Ambois, I think?

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

_He._ We like your alteration, and must tell you
We have expected th’ offer of your service;
For we (in fear to make mild virtue proud)
Use not to seek her out in any man. 65

_Bu._ Nor doth she use to seek out any man:
He that will win must woo her; [she’s not shameless.][920]

_Mo._ I urg’d her modesty in him, my lord,
And gave her those rites that he says she merits.

_He._ If you have woo’d and won, then, brother, wear him. 70

_Mo._ Th’ art mine, sweetheart. See, here’s the Guise’s Duchess,
The Countess of Montsurreau, Beaupre.
Come, I’ll enseam[921] thee. Ladies, y’are too many
To be in council; I have here a friend
That I would gladly enter in your graces. 75

_Bu._ Save you, ladies.

_Du._ If you enter him in our graces, my lord, methinks by his blunt
behaviour he should come out of himself.

_Ta._ Has he never been courtier, my lord? 80

_Mo._ Never, my lady.

_Be._ And why did the toy take him in th’ head now?

_Bu._ ’Tis leap-year, lady, and therefore very good to enter a
courtier. 85

_He._ Mark, Duchess of Guise, there is one is not bashful.

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

_Ta._ The man’s a courtier at first sight.

_Bu._ I can sing pricksong,[922] lady, at first sight; and why not be
a courtier as suddenly? 90

_Be._ Here’s a courtier rotten before he be ripe.

_Bu._ Think me not impudent, lady; I am yet no courtier; I desire to
be one, and would gladly take entrance, madam, under your princely
colours. 95

_Enter_ BARRISOR, L’ANOU, PYRRHOT.

_Du._ Soft, sir, you must rise by degrees, first being the
servant[923] of some common lady, or knight’s wife; then a little
higher to a lord’s wife; next a little higher to a countess; yet a
little higher to a duchess, and then turn the ladder. 101

_Bu._ Do you allow a man, then, four mistresses when the greatest
mistress is allowed but three servants?

_Du._ Where find you that statute, sir? 105

_Bu._ Why, be judged by the groom-porters.[924]

_Du._ The groom-porters?

_Bu._ Ay, madam; must not they judge of all gamings i’ th’ Court?

_Du._ You talk like a gamester. 110

_Gu._ Sir, know you me?

_Bu._ My lord?

_Gu._ I know not you. Whom do you serve?

_Bu._ Serve, my lord?

_Gu._ Go to, companion,[925] your courtship’s too saucy. 116

_Bu._ [_Aside._] Saucy! Companion! ’Tis the Guise, but yet those
terms might have been spared of the guiserd.[926] Companion! He’s
jealous, by this light. Are you blind of that side, duke? I’ll to her
again for that.—Forth, (121) princely mistress, for the honour of
courtship. Another riddle!

_Gu._ Cease your courtship, or by heaven I’ll cut your throat. 125

_Bu._ Cut my throat? Cut a whetstone, young Accius Naevius.[927] Do
as much with your tongue, as he did with a razor. Cut my throat!

_Ba._ What new-come gallant have we here, that dares mate[928] the
Guise thus? 130

_L’A._ ’Sfoot, ’tis D’Ambois. The duke mistakes him, on my life, for
some knight of the new edition.[929]

_Bu._ Cut my throat! I would the king fear’d thy cutting of his
throat no more than I fear thy cutting of mine. 136

_Gu._ I’ll do’t, by this hand.

_Bu._ That hand dares not do’t. Y’ave cut too many throats already,
Guise; and robb’d the realm of many thousand souls, more precious
than thine own.—Come madam, talk on. (141) ’Sfoot, can you not talk?
Talk on, I say; another riddle.

_Py._ Here’s some strange distemper.

_Ba._ Here’s a sudden transmigration with D’Ambois,—out of the
knight’s ward[930] into the duchess’ bed.

_L’A._ See what a metamorphosis a brave suit can work. 149

_Py._ ’Slight, step to the Guise and discover him.

_Ba._ By no means; let the new suit work, we’ll see the issue.

_Gu._ Leave your courting. 154

_Bu._ I will not.—I say, mistress, and I will stand unto it, that
if a woman may have three servants, a man may have three-score
mistresses.

_Gu._ Sirrah, I’ll have you whipt out of the Court for this
insolence. 160

_Bu._ Whipt? Such another syllable out a th’ presence, if thou
dar’st, for thy dukedom.

_Gu._ Remember, poltroon.

_Mo._ Pray thee, forbear. 164

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

_Mo._ But leave courting his wife, then.

_Bu._ I will not. I’ll court her in despite of him. Not court her!
Come, madam, talk on, fear me nothing. [_To_ Guise.] Well may’st thou
drive thy master from the Court, but never (171) D’Ambois.

_Mo._ His great heart will not down; ’tis like the sea,
That partly by his own internal heat,
Partly the stars’ daily and nightly motion, 175
Their heat and light, and partly of the place,
The divers frames, but chiefly by the moon,
Bristled with surges, never will be won
(No, not when th’ hearts of all those powers are burst)
To make retreat into his settled home, 180
Till he be crown’d with his own quiet foam.

_He._ You have the mate.[931] Another?

_Gu._ No more. _Flourish short._
_Exit_ GUISE, _after him the_ King, Monsieur _whispering_.

_Ba._ Why, here’s the lion, scar’d with the throat of a dunghill
cock, a fellow that has (185) newly shak’d off his shackles; now does
he crow for that victory.

_L’A._ ’Tis one of the best jigs that ever was acted. 189

_Py._ Whom does the Guise suppose him to be, trow?

_L’A._ Out of doubt, some new denizen’d lord, and thinks that suit
newly drawn out a’ th’ mercer’s books. 194

_Ba._ I have heard of a fellow, that by a fixt imagination looking
upon a bull-baiting, had a visible pair of horns grew out of his
forehead; and I believe this gallant, overjoyed with the conceit of
Monsieur’s cast[932] suit, imagines himself to be the Monsieur. 200

_L’A._ And why not; as well as the ass, stalking in the lion’s
case,[933] bare himself like a lion, braying all the huger beasts out
of the forest?

_Py._ Peace, he looks this way. 204

_Ba._ Marry, let him look, sir. What will you say now if the Guise be
gone to fetch a blanket[934] for him?

_L’A._ Faith, I believe it for his honour sake.

_Py._ But, if D’Ambois carry it clean?[935]
_Exeunt_ Ladies.

_Ba._ True, when he curvets in the blanket.

_Py._ Ay, marry, sir. 211

_L’A._ ’Sfoot, see how he stares on ’s.

_Ba._ Lord bless us, let’s away.

_Bu._ Now, sir, take your full view; how does the object please ye? 215

_Ba._ If you ask my opinion, sir, I think your suit sits as well as
if ’t had been made for you.

_Bu._ So, sir, and was that the subject of your ridiculous jollity?

_L’A._ What’s that to you, sir? 220

_Bu._ Sir, I have observ’d all your fleerings;[936] and resolve
yourselves ye shall give a strict account for’t.

_Enter_ BRISAC, MELYNELL.

_Ba._ Oh, miraculous jealousy![937] Do you think yourself such a
singular subject for laughter (225) that none can fall into the
matter of our merriment but you?

_L’A._ This jealousy of yours, sir, confesses some close defect in
yourself, that we never dream’d of. 230

_Py._ We held discourse of a perfum’d ass, that being disguis’d in a
lion’s case, imagin’d himself a lion. I hope that toucht not you.

_Bu._ So, sir; your descants[938] do marvellous well fit this ground.
We shall meet where (235) your buffoonly laughters will cost ye the
best blood in your bodies.

_Ba._ For life’s sake let’s be gone; he’ll kill ’s outright else.

_Bu._ Go, at your pleasures, I’ll be your ghost to haunt you; an ye
sleep an ’t, hang me. 241

_L’A._ Go, go, sir; court your mistress.

_Py._ And be advis’d; we shall have odds against you.

_Bu._ Tush! valour stands not in number; I’ll maintain it, that one
man may beat three (246) boys.

_Br._ Nay, you shall have no odds of him in number, sir; he’s a
gentleman as good as the proudest of you, and ye shall not wrong him.

_Ba._ Not, sir? 251

_Me._ Not, sir: though he be not so rich, he’s a better man than the
best of you; and I will not endure it.

_L’A._ Not you, sir? 255

_Br._ No, sir, not I.

_Bu._ I should thank you for this kindness, if I thought these
perfum’d musk-cats (being out of this privilege) durst but once mew
at us.

_Ba._ Does your confident spirit doubt that, sir? Follow us
and try. 261

_L’A._ Come, sir, we’ll lead you a dance.
_Exeunt._