  A room in the Court.] Henry, D'Ambois, Monsieur, Guise, Dutches, Annabell, Charlot, Attendants. Henry. Speak home, my Bussy! thy impartiall words Are like brave faulcons that dare trusse a fowle Much greater than themselves; flatterers are kites That check at sparrowes; thou shalt be my eagle, And beare my thunder underneath thy wings:5 Truths words like jewels hang in th'eares of kings. Bussy. Would I might live to see no Jewes hang there In steed of jewels—sycophants, I meane, Who use Truth like the Devill, his true foe, Cast by the angell to the pit of feares, And bound in chaines; Truth seldome decks kings eares. Slave flattery (like a rippiers legs rowl'd up In boots of hay-ropes) with kings soothed guts Swadled and strappl'd, now lives onely free. O, tis a subtle knave; how like the plague Unfelt he strikes into the braine of man, And rageth in his entrailes when he can, Worse than the poison of a red hair'd man. Henr. Fly at him and his brood! I cast thee off, And once more give thee surname of mine eagle. Buss. Ile make you sport enough, then. Let me have My lucerns too, or dogs inur'd to hunt Beasts of most rapine, but to put them up, And if I trusse not, let me not be trusted. Shew me a great man (by the peoples voice, Which is the voice of God) that by his greatnesse Bumbasts his private roofes with publique riches; That affects royaltie, rising from a clapdish; That rules so much more than his suffering King, That he makes kings of his subordinate slaves:30 Himselfe and them graduate like woodmongers Piling a stack of billets from the earth, Raising each other into steeples heights; Let him convey this on the turning props Of Protean law, and (his owne counsell keeping)35 Keepe all upright—let me but hawlk at him, Ile play the vulture, and so thump his liver That (like a huge unlading Argosea) He shall confesse all, and you then may hang him. Shew me a clergie man that is in voice40 A lark of heaven, in heart a mowle of earth; That hath good living, and a wicked life; A temperate look, and a luxurious gut; Turning the rents of his superfluous cures Into your phesants and your partriches; Venting their quintessence as men read Hebrew— Let me but hawlk at him, and like the other, He shall confesse all, and you then may hang him. Shew me a lawyer that turnes sacred law (The equall rendrer of each man his owne, The scourge of rapine and extortion, The sanctuary and impregnable defence Of retir'd learning and besieged vertue) Into a Harpy, that eates all but's owne, Into the damned sinnes it punisheth, Into the synagogue of theeves and atheists; Blood into gold, and justice into lust:— Let me but hawlk at him, as at the rest, He shall confesse all, and you then may hang him. Enter Mont-surrey, Tamira and Pero. Gui. Where will you find such game as you would hawlk at?60 Buss. Ile hawlk about your house for one of them. Gui. Come, y'are a glorious ruffin and runne proud Of the Kings headlong graces; hold your breath, Or, by that poyson'd vapour, not the King Shall back your murtherous valour against me. Buss. I would the King would make his presence free But for one bout betwixt us: by the reverence Due to the sacred space twixt kings and subjects, Here would I make thee cast that popular purple In which thy proud soule sits and braves thy soveraigne. Mons. Peace, peace, I pray thee, peace! Buss. Let him peace first That made the first warre. Mons. He's the better man. Buss. And, therefore, may doe worst? Mons. He has more titles. Buss. So Hydra had more heads. Mons. He's greater knowne. Buss. His greatnesse is the peoples, mine's mine owne. Mons. He's noblier borne. Buss. He is not; I am noble, And noblesse in his blood hath no gradation, But in his merit. Gui. Th'art not nobly borne, But bastard to the Cardinall of Ambois. Buss. Thou liest, proud Guiserd; let me flie, my Lord! Henr. Not in my face, my eagle! violence flies The sanctuaries of a princes eyes. Buss. Still shall we chide, and fome upon this bit? Is the Guise onely great in faction? Stands he not by himselfe? Proves he th'opinion That mens soules are without them? Be a duke, And lead me to the field. Guis. Come, follow me. Henr. Stay them! stay, D'Ambois! Cosen Guise, I wonder Your honour'd disposition brooks so ill A man so good that only would uphold Man in his native noblesse, from whose fall All our dissentions rise; that in himselfe (Without the outward patches of our frailty, Riches and honour) knowes he comprehends Worth with the greatest. Kings had never borne Such boundlesse empire over other men, Had all maintain'd the spirit and state of D'Ambois; Nor had the full impartiall hand of Nature, That all things gave in her originall Without these definite terms of Mine and Thine, Beene turn'd unjustly to the hand of Fortune, Had all preserv'd her in her prime like D'Ambois; No envie, no disjunction had dissolv'd, Or pluck'd one stick out of the golden faggot In which the world of Saturne bound our lifes, Had all beene held together with the nerves, The genius, and th'ingenious soule of D'Ambois. Let my hand therefore be the Hermean rod To part and reconcile, and so conserve you, As my combin'd embracers and supporters.110 Buss. Tis our Kings motion, and we shall not seeme To worst eies womanish, though we change thus soone Never so great grudge for his greater pleasure. Gui. I seale to that, and so the manly freedome, That you so much professe, hereafter prove not A bold and glorious licence to deprave, To me his hand shall hold the Hermean vertue His grace affects, in which submissive signe On this his sacred right hand I lay mine. Buss. Tis well, my lord, and so your worthy greatnesse Decline not to the greater insolence, Nor make you think it a prerogative To rack mens freedomes with the ruder wrongs, My hand (stuck full of lawrell, in true signe Tis wholly dedicate to righteous peace)125 In all submission kisseth th'other side. Henr. Thanks to ye both: and kindly I invite ye Both to a banquet where weele sacrifice Full cups to confirmation of your loves; At which (faire ladies) I entreat your presence; And hope you, madam, will take one carowse For reconcilement of your lord and servant. Duchess. If I should faile, my lord, some other lady Would be found there to doe that for my servant. Mons. Any of these here? Duch. Nay, I know not that. Buss. Think your thoughts like my mistresse, honour'd lady? Tamyra. I think not on you, sir; y'are one I know not. Buss. Cry you mercy, madam! Montsurry. Oh sir, has she met you? Exeunt Henry, D'Amb[ois], Ladies. Mons. What had my bounty drunk when it rais'd him? Gui. Y'ave stuck us up a very worthy flag, That takes more winde than we with all our sailes. Mons. O, so he spreds and flourishes. Gui. He must downe; Upstarts should never perch too neere a crowne. Mons. Tis true, my lord; and as this doting hand Even out of earth (like Juno) struck this giant, So Joves great ordinance shall be here implide To strike him under th'Ætna of his pride. To which work lend your hands, and let us cast Where we may set snares for his ranging greatnes. I think it best, amongst our greatest women: For there is no such trap to catch an upstart As a loose downfall; for, you know, their falls Are th'ends of all mens rising. If great men And wise make scapes to please advantage, Tis with a woman—women that woorst may Still hold mens candels: they direct and know All things amisse in all men, and their women All things amisse in them; through whose charm'd mouthes We may see all the close scapes of the Court. When the most royall beast of chase, the hart, Being old, and cunning in his layres and haunts, Can never be discovered to the bow, The peece, or hound—yet where, behind some queich, He breaks his gall, and rutteth with his hinde, The place is markt, and by his venery He still is taken. Shall we then attempt The chiefest meane to that discovery here, And court our greatest ladies chiefest women With shewes of love, and liberall promises? Tis but our breath. If something given in hand Sharpen their hopes of more, 'twill be well ventur'd. Gui. No doubt of that: and 'tis the cunningst point Of our devis'd investigation. Mons. I have broken The yce to it already with the woman Of your chast lady, and conceive good hope I shall wade thorow to some wished shore At our next meeting. Mont. Nay, there's small hope there. Gui. Take say of her, my lord, she comes most fitly. Mons. Starting back? Enter Charlot, Anable, Pero. Gui. Y'are ingag'd indeed. Annable. Nay pray, my lord, forbeare. Mont. What, skittish, servant? An. No, my lord, I am not so fit for your service. Charlotte. Nay, pardon me now, my lord; my lady expects me. Gui. Ile satisfie her expectation, as far as an unkle may. Mons. Well said! a spirit of courtship of all hands. Now, mine owne Pero, hast thou remembred me for the discovery I entreated thee to make of thy mistresse? Speak boldly, and be sure of all things I have sworne to thee. Pero. Building on that assurance (my lord) I may speak; and much the rather because my lady hath not trusted me with that I can tell you; for now I cannot be said to betray her. Mons. That's all one, so wee reach our objects: forth, I beseech thee. Per. To tell you truth, my lord, I have made a strange discovery. Mons. Excellent Pero, thou reviv'st me; may I sink quick to perdition if my tongue discover it! Per. Tis thus, then: this last night my lord lay forth, and I, watching my ladies sitting up, stole up at midnight from my pallat, and (having before made a hole both through the wall and arras to her inmost chamber) I saw D'Ambois and her selfe reading a letter! Mons. D'Ambois! Per. Even he, my lord. Mons. Do'st thou not dreame, wench? Per. I sweare he is the man. Mons. The devill he is, and thy lady his dam! Why this was the happiest shot that ever flewe; the just plague of hypocrisie level'd it. Oh, the infinite regions betwixt a womans tongue and her heart! is this our Goddesse of chastity? I thought I could not be so sleighted, if she had not her fraught besides, and therefore plotted this with her woman, never dreaming of D'Amboys. Deare Pero, I will advance thee for ever: but tell me now—Gods pretious, it transformes mee with admiration—sweet Pero, whom should she trust with this conveyance? Or, all the dores being made sure, how should his conveyance be made? Per. Nay, my lord, that amazes me: I cannot by any study so much as guesse at it. Mons. Well, let's favour our apprehensions with forbearing that a little; for, if my heart were not hoopt with adamant, the conceipt of this would have burst it: but heark thee. Whispers. Mont. I pray thee, resolve mee: the Duke will never imagine that I am busie about's wife:235 hath D'Ambois any privy accesse to her? An. No, my lord, D'Ambois neglects her (as shee takes it) and is therefore suspicious that either your lady, or the lady Beaupre, hath closely entertain'd him. Mont. Ber lady, a likely suspition, and very neere the life—especially of my wife. Mons. Come, we'l disguise all with seeming onely to have courted.—Away, dry palm! sh'as a livor as dry as a bisket; a man may goe a whole voyage with her, and get nothing but tempests from her windpipe. Gui. Here's one (I think) has swallowed a porcupine, shee casts pricks from her tongue so. Mont. And here's a peacock seemes to have devour'd one of the Alpes, she has so swelling a spirit, & is so cold of her kindnes. Char. We are no windfalls, my lord; ye must gather us with the ladder of matrimony, or we'l hang till we be rotten.255 Mons. Indeed, that's the way to make ye right openarses. But, alas, ye have no portions fit for such husbands as we wish you. Per. Portions, my lord! yes, and such portions as your principality cannot purchase.260 Mons. What, woman, what are those portions? Per. Riddle my riddle, my lord. Mons. I, marry, wench, I think thy portion is a right riddle; a man shall never finde it out: but let's heare it. Per. You shall, my lord. What's that, that being most rar's most cheap? That when you sow, you never reap? That when it growes most, most you [th]in it, And still you lose it, when you win it? That when tis commonest, tis dearest, And when tis farthest off, 'tis neerest? Mons. Is this your great portion? Per. Even this, my lord. Mons. Beleeve me, I cannot riddle it. Per. No, my lord; tis my chastity, which you shall neither riddle nor fiddle. Mons. Your chastity! Let me begin with the end of it; how is a womans chastity neerest man, when tis furthest off? Per. Why, my lord, when you cannot get it, it goes to th'heart on you; and that I think comes most neere you: and I am sure it shall be farre enough off. And so wee leave you to our mercies. Exeunt Women. Mons. Farewell, riddle.285 Gui. Farewell, medlar. Mont. Farewell, winter plum. Mons. Now, my lords, what fruit of our inquisition? feele you nothing budding yet? Speak, good my lord Montsurry.290 Mont. Nothing but this: D'Ambois is thought negligent in observing the Duchesse, and therefore she is suspicious that your neece or my wife closely entertaines him. Mons. Your wife, my lord! Think you that295 possible? Mont. Alas, I know she flies him like her last houre. Mont. That's not worth the answering. Tis miraculous to think with what monsters womens imaginations engrosse them when they are once enamour'd, and what wonders they will work for their satisfaction. They will make a sheepe valiant, a lion fearefull. Gui. Come, my lord, I have the blind side of one of them. Exit Guise cum Mont[surry]. Mons. O the unsounded sea of womens bloods, That when tis calmest, is most dangerous! Not any wrinkle creaming in their faces, When in their hearts are Scylla and Caribdis, Which still are hid in dark and standing foggs, Where never day shines, nothing ever growes But weeds and poysons that no states-man knowes; Nor Cerberus ever saw the damned nookes Hid with the veiles of womens vertuous lookes. But what a cloud of sulphur have I drawne Up to my bosome in this dangerous secret! Which if my hast with any spark should light Ere D'Ambois were engag'd in some sure plot, I were blowne up; he would be, sure, my death. Would I had never knowne it, for before I shall perswade th'importance to Montsurry, And make him with some studied stratagem Train D'Ambois to his wreak, his maid may tell it; Or I (out of my fiery thirst to play With the fell tyger up in darknesse tyed, And give it some light) make it quite break loose. I feare it, afore heaven, and will not see D'Ambois againe, till I have told Montsurry, And set a snare with him to free my feares. Whose there? Enter Maffe. Maffe. My lord? Mons. Goe, call the Count Montsurry, And make the dores fast; I will speak with none Till he come to me. Maf. Well, my lord. Exiturus. Mons. Or else Send you some other, and see all the dores340 Made safe your selfe, I pray; hast, flie about it. Maf. You'l speak with none but with the Count Montsurry? Mons. With none but hee, except it be the Guise. Maf. See, even by this there's one exception more; Your Grace must be more firme in the command,345 Or else shall I as weakly execute. The Guise shall speak with you? Mons. He shall, I say. Maf. And Count Montsurry? Mons. I, and Count Montsurry. Maf. Your Grace must pardon me, that I am bold To urge the cleare and full sence of your pleasure;350 Which when so ever I have knowne, I hope Your Grace will say I hit it to a haire. Mons. You have. Maf. I hope so, or I would be glad— Mons. I pray thee, get thee gone; thou art so tedious In the strick't forme of all thy services That I had better have one negligent. You hit my pleasure well, when D'Ambois hit you; Did you not, think you? Maf. D'Ambois! why, my lord— Mons. I pray thee, talk no more, but shut the dores: Doe what I charge thee. Maf. I will my lord, and yet 360 I would be glad the wrong I had of D'Ambois— Mons. Precious! then it is a fate that plagues me In this mans foolery; I may be murthered, While he stands on protection of his folly. Avant, about thy charge! Maf. I goe, my lord.—365 I had my head broke in his faithfull service; I had no suit the more, nor any thanks, And yet my teeth must still be hit with D'Ambois. D'Ambois, my lord, shall know— Mons. The devill and D'Ambois! Exit Maffe. How am I tortur'd with this trusty foole!370 Never was any curious in his place To doe things justly, but he was an asse: We cannot finde one trusty that is witty, And therefore beare their disproportion. Grant, thou great starre, and angell of my life, A sure lease of it but for some few dayes, That I may cleare my bosome of the snake I cherisht there, and I will then defie All check to it but Natures; and her altars Shall crack with vessels crown'd with ev'ry liquor Drawn from her highest and most bloudy humors. I feare him strangely; his advanced valour Is like a spirit rais'd without a circle, Endangering him that ignorantly rais'd him, And for whose fury he hath learnt no limit.385 Enter Maffe hastily. Maf. I cannot help it; what should I do more? As I was gathering a fit guard to make My passage to the dores, and the dores sure, The man of bloud is enter'd. Enter D'Ambois. My sweet heart! How now? what leap'st thou at? Bussy. O royall object! Mons. Thou dream'st awake: object in th'empty aire! Buss. Worthy the browes of Titan, worth his chaire. Mons. Pray thee, what mean'st thou? Buss. See you not a crowne Empalethe forehead of the great King Monsieur? Mons. O, fie upon thee! Buss. Prince, that is the subject Of all these your retir'd and sole discourses. Mons. Wilt thou not leave that wrongfull supposition? Buss. Why wrongfull to suppose the doubtlesse right To the succession worth the thinking on? Mons. Well, leave these jests! how I am over-joyed With thy wish'd presence, and how fit thou com'st, For, of mine honour, I was sending for thee. Buss. To what end? Mons. Onely for thy company, Which I have still in thought; but that's no payment On thy part made with personall appearance. Thy absence so long suffered oftentimes Put me in some little doubt thou do'st not love me. Wilt thou doe one thing therefore now sincerely? Buss. I, any thing—but killing of the King. Mons. Still in that discord, and ill taken note? How most unseasonable thou playest the cucko, In this thy fall of friendship! Buss. Then doe not doubt That there is any act within my nerves, But killing of the King, that is not yours. Mons. I will not then; to prove which, by my love Shewne to thy vertues, and by all fruits else Already sprung from that still flourishing tree, With whatsoever may hereafter spring, I charge thee utter (even with all the freedome Both of thy noble nature and thy friendship) The full and plaine state of me in thy thoughts. Buss. What, utter plainly what I think of you? Mons. Plaine as truth. Buss. Why this swims quite against the stream of greatnes: Great men would rather heare their flatteries, And if they be not made fooles, are not wise. Mons. I am no such great foole, and therefore charge thee Even from the root of thy free heart display mee.430 Buss. Since you affect it in such serious termes, If your selfe first will tell me what you think As freely and as heartily of me, I'le be as open in my thoughts of you. Mons. A bargain, of mine honour! and make this, That prove we in our full dissection Never so foule, live still the sounder friends. Buss. What else, sir? come, pay me home, ile bide it bravely. Mons. I will, I sweare. I think thee, then, a man That dares as much as a wilde horse or tyger,440 As headstrong and as bloody; and to feed The ravenous wolfe of thy most caniball valour (Rather than not employ it) thou would'st turne Hackster to any whore, slave to a Jew, Or English usurer, to force possessions (And cut mens throats) of morgaged estates; Or thou would'st tire thee like a tinkers strumpet, And murther market folks; quarrell with sheepe, And runne as mad as Ajax; serve a butcher; Doe any thing but killing of the King. That in thy valour th'art like other naturalls That have strange gifts in nature, but no soule Diffus'd quite through, to make them of a peece, But stop at humours, that are more absurd, Childish and villanous than that hackster, whore,455 Slave, cut-throat, tinkers bitch, compar'd before; And in those humours would'st envie, betray, Slander, blaspheme, change each houre a religion, Doe any thing, but killing of the King: That in thy valour (which is still the dunghill, To which hath reference all filth in thy house) Th'art more ridiculous and vaine-glorious Than any mountibank, and impudent Than any painted bawd; which not to sooth, And glorifie thee like a Jupiter Hammon, Thou eat'st thy heart in vinegar, and thy gall Turns all thy blood to poyson, which is cause Of that toad-poole that stands in thy complexion, And makes thee with a cold and earthy moisture, (Which is the damme of putrifaction) As plague to thy damn'd pride, rot as thou liv'st: To study calumnies and treacheries; To thy friends slaughters like a scrich-owle sing, And to all mischiefes—but to kill the King. Buss. So! have you said? Mons. How thinkest thou? Doe I flatter? Speak I not like a trusty friend to thee? Buss. That ever any man was blest withall. So here's for me! I think you are (at worst) No devill, since y'are like to be no King; Of which with any friend of yours Ile lay480 This poore stillado here gainst all the starres, I, and 'gainst all your treacheries, which are more: That you did never good, but to doe ill, But ill of all sorts, free and for it selfe: That (like a murthering peece making lanes in armies,485 The first man of a rank, the whole rank falling) If you have wrong'd one man, you are so farre From making him amends that all his race, Friends, and associates fall into your chace: That y'are for perjuries the very prince490 Of all intelligencers; and your voice Is like an easterne winde, that, where it flies, Knits nets of catterpillars, with which you catch The prime of all the fruits the kingdome yeelds: That your politicall head is the curst fount Of all the violence, rapine, cruelty, Tyrannie, & atheisme flowing through the realme: That y'ave a tongue so scandalous, 'twill cut The purest christall, and a breath that will Kill to that wall a spider; you will jest With God, and your soule to the Devill tender For lust; kisse horror, and with death engender: That your foule body is a Lernean fenne Of all the maladies breeding in all men: That you are utterly without a soule; And for your life, the thred of that was spunne When Clotho slept, and let her breathing rock Fall in the durt; and Lachesis still drawes it, Dipping her twisting fingers in a boule Defil'd, and crown'd with vertues forced soule: And lastly (which I must for gratitude Ever remember) that of all my height And dearest life you are the onely spring, Onely in royall hope to kill the King. Mons. Why, now I see thou lov'st me! come to the banquet! Exeunt. 515 Finis Actus Tertii. LINENOTES:Henry ... Attendants. A, Henry, D'Ambois, Monsieur, Guise, Mont., Elenor, Tam., Pero. 1 my. A; B omits. 4 sparrowes. A, nothing. 89 honour'd. A, equall. 107 ingenious. A, ingenuous. 163-164 where ... his hinde. A has:— Where his custome is To beat his vault, and he ruts with his hinde. 173-177 I have broken ... hope there. A has:— I have already broke the ice, my lord, With the most trusted woman of your Countesse, And hope I shall wade through to our discovery. 179 Starting back. Omitted in A, which instead continues Montsurry's speech with: And we will to the other. 189-193 Well said ... to thee. Printed in doggerel form in Qq, the lines ending with hands, me, mistresse, thee. 193 sworne to thee. A, promised. 194 that assurance. A, that you have sworne. 203 to perdition. A, into earth heere. 206 stole up. A, stole. 209 her selfe reading a letter. A, she set close at a banquet. 221 never dreaming of D'Amboys. A omits. 226 should. A, could. 227 made. A, performed. Char. I sweare to your Grace, all that I can conjecture touching my 243 disguise. A, put off. I will conceale all yet, and give more time To D'Ambois triall, now upon my hooke; He awes my throat; else, like Sybillas cave, It should breath oracles; I feare him strangely, And may resemble his advanced valour Unto a spirit rais'd without a circle, Endangering him that ignorantly rais'd him, And for whose furie he hath learn'd no limit. 413-414 How ... friendship. A omits. 414-416 Then ... not yours. Omitted in A, which has instead: Come, doe not doubt me, and command mee all things. 419 still flourishing tree. A, affection. 461 hath reference. A, I carrie. |
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