Bussy. I am suspitious, my most honour'd father,

By some of Monsieurs cunning passages,

That his still ranging and contentious nose-thrils

To scent the haunts of mischiefe have so us'd

The vicious vertue of his busie sence5

That he trails hotly of him, and will rowze him,

Driving him all enrag'd and foming on us;

And therefore have entreated your deepe skill

In the command of good aeriall spirits,

Friar. Good sonne, you have amaz'd me but to make

The least doubt of it, it concernes so neerely

The faith and reverence of my name and order.15

Yet will I justifie upon my soule

All I have done;

If any spirit i'th[e] earth or aire

Can give you the resolve, doe not despaire.

Tamyra. Away, deliver it. Exit Pero.

O may my lines, 20

Fill'd with the poyson of a womans hate,

When he shall open them, shrink up his curst eyes

With torturous darknesse, such as stands in hell,

Stuck full of inward horrors, never lighted;

With which are all things to be fear'd, affrighted.25

Buss. How is it with my honour'd mistresse?

Tam. O, servant, help, and save me from the gripes

Buss. What cold dull Northern brain, what foole but he,

Durst take into his Epimethean breast

A box of such plagues as the danger yeelds

Incur'd in this discovery? He had better

Ventur'd his breast in the consuming reach35

Of the hot surfets cast out of the clouds,

Or stood the bullets that (to wreak the skie)

The Cyclops ramme in Joves artillerie.

Fri. We soone will take the darknesse from his face

That did that deed of darknesse; we will know40

What now the Monsieur and your husband doe;

What is contain'd within the secret paper

Offer'd by Monsieur, and your loves events.

To which ends (honour'd daughter) at your motion

I have put on these exorcising rites,45

And, by my power of learned holinesse

Vouchsaft me from above, I will command

Our resolution of a raised spirit.

Fri. Stand sure together, then, what ere you see,

And stir not, as ye tender all our lives. He puts on his robes.

Behemoth. What would the holy frier?

Fri. I would see

What now the Monsieur and Mountsurrie doe,

And see the secret paper that the Monsieur65

Offer'd to Count Montsurry; longing much

To know on what events the secret loves

Of these two honour'd persons shall arrive.

Fri. From the last nights black depth I call'd up one80

Of the inferiour ablest ministers,

And he could not resolve mee. Send one, then,

Out of thine owne command to fetch the paper

That Monsieur hath to shew to Count Montsurry.

Beh. I will. Cartophylax! thou that properly85

Hast in thy power all papers so inscrib'd,

Glide through all barres to it, and fetch that paper.

Cartophylax. I will. A torch removes.

Beh. Both them and the Guise

Are now together.

Fri. Show us all their persons,

And represent the place, with all their actions.

Beh. The spirit will strait return, and then Ile shew thee.

See, he is come. Why brought'st thou not the paper?95

Car. He hath prevented me, and got a spirit

Rais'd by another, great in our command,

To take the guard of it before I came.

Beh. This is your slacknesse, not t'invoke our powers

When first your acts set forth to their effects.100

Yet shall you see it and themselves. Behold

They come here, & the Earle now holds the paper.

Buss. May we not heare them?

[Fri.] No, be still and see.

Buss. I will goe fetch the paper.

Fri. Doe not stirre.

There's too much distance, and too many locks105

Tam. O honour'd spirit, flie into the fancie

Of my offended lord; and doe not let him

Beleeve what there the wicked man hath written.110

Beh. Perswasion hath already enter'd him

Beyond reflection; peace, till their departure!

Monsieur. There is a glasse of ink where you may see

How to make ready black fac'd tragedy:

You now discerne, I hope, through all her paintings,115

Her gasping wrinkles and fames sepulchres.

Guise. Think you he faines, my lord? what hold you now?

Doe we maligne your wife, or honour you?

Mons. What, stricken dumb! Nay fie, lord, be not danted:

Your case is common; were it ne're so rare,120

Beare it as rarely! Now to laugh were manly.

A worthy man should imitate the weather,

That sings in tempests, and being cleare, is silent.

Mons. Doe, my lord,

And make her name her conceal'd messenger,

That close and most inennerable pander,

That passeth all our studies to exquire:

By whom convay the letter to her love;130

And so you shall be sure to have him come

Within the thirsty reach of your revenge.

Before which, lodge an ambush in her chamber,

Behind the arras, of your stoutest men

All close and soundly arm'd; and let them share135

A spirit amongst them that would serve a thousand.

Gui. Yet, stay a little: see, she sends for you.

Mons. Poore, loving lady, she'le make all good yet;

Think you not so, my lord? Mont[surry] stabs Pero, and exit.

Gui. Alas, poore soule!

Mons. This was cruelly done, y'faith.

Pero. T'was nobly done; 140

And I forgive his lordship from my soule.

Per. I hope it rather be a bitter volume

Of worthy curses for your perjury.

Gui. To you, my lord.

Mons. To me? Now out upon her! 145

Gui. Let me see, my lord.

Mons. You shall presently: how fares my Pero? Enter Servant.

Who's there? Take in this maid, sh'as caught a clap,

And fetch my surgeon to her. Come, my lord,

We'l now peruse our letter. Exeunt Mons[ieur], Guise. Lead her out.

Per. Furies rise 150

Out of the black lines, and torment his soule!

Tam. Hath my lord slaine my woman?

Beh. No, she lives.

Fri. What shall become of us?

Beh. All I can say,

Being call'd thus late, is briefe, and darkly this:—

If D'Ambois mistresse die not her white hand155

In her forc'd bloud, he shall remaine untoucht:

Buss. Will he appeare to me when I invoke him?

Fri. He will, be sure.

Buss. It must be shortly, then,

For his dark words have tyed my thoughts on knots165

Till he dissolve and free them.

Tam. In meane time,

Deare servant, till your powerfull voice revoke him,

Be sure to use the policy he advis'd;

Lest fury in your too quick knowledge taken

Of our abuse, and your defence of me,170

Accuse me more than any enemy.

And, father, you must on my lord impose

Your holiest charges, and the Churches power,

To temper his hot spirit, and disperse

The cruelty and the bloud I know his hand175

Will showre upon our heads, if you put not

Buss. Ile sooth his plots, and strow my hate with smiles,

Till all at once the close mines of my heart180

Rise at full date, and rush into his bloud:

Ile bind his arme in silk, and rub his flesh

To make the veine swell, that his soule may gush

Into some kennell where it longs to lie;

And policy shall be flanckt with policy.185

Yet shall the feeling Center where we meet

Groane with the wait of my approaching feet:

Ile make th'inspired threshals of his Court

Sweat with the weather of my horrid steps,

Before I enter: yet will I appeare190

Like calme security before a ruine.

A politician must, like lightning, melt

The very marrow, and not taint the skin:

His wayes must not be seene; the superficies

Of the greene Center must not taste his feet,195

When hell is plow'd up with his wounding tracts,

And all his harvest reap't by hellish facts. Exeunt.