  [A Room in the Palace of the Duke of Guise.] Ascendit Umbra Bussi. Umbra Bussi. Up from the chaos of eternall night (To which the whole digestion of the world Is now returning) once more I ascend, And bide the cold dampe of this piercing ayre, To urge the justice whose almightie word5 Measures the bloudy acts of impious men With equall pennance, who in th'act it selfe Includes th'infliction, which like chained shot Batter together still; though (as the thunder Seemes, by mens duller hearing then their sight,10 To breake a great time after lightning forth, Yet both at one time teare the labouring cloud) So men thinke pennance of their ils is slow, Though th'ill and pennance still together goe. Reforme, yee ignorant men, your manlesse lives15 Whose lawes yee thinke are nothing but your lusts; When leaving (but for supposition sake) The body of felicitie, religion, Set in the midst of Christendome, and her head Cleft to her bosome, one halfe one way swaying,20 Another th'other, all the Christian world And all her lawes whose observation Stands upon faith, above the power of reason— Leaving (I say) all these, this might suffice To fray yee from your vicious swindge in ill25 And set you more on fire to doe more good; That since the world (as which of you denies?) Stands by proportion, all may thence conclude That all the joynts and nerves sustaining nature As well may breake, and yet the world abide,30 As any one good unrewarded die, Or any one ill scape his penaltie. The Ghost stands close. Enter Guise, Clermont. Guise. Thus (friend) thou seest how all good men would thrive, Did not the good thou prompt'st me with prevent The jealous ill pursuing them in others. But now thy dangers are dispatcht, note mine. Hast thou not heard of that admired voyce That at the barricadoes spake to mee, (No person seene) "Let's leade my lord to Reimes"? Clermont. Nor could you learne the person? Gui. By no meanes. Cler. Twas but your fancie, then, a waking dreame: For as in sleepe, which bindes both th'outward senses And the sense common to, th'imagining power (Stird up by formes hid in the memories store, Or by the vapours of o'er-flowing humours45 In bodies full and foule, and mixt with spirits) Faines many strange, miraculous images, In which act it so painfully applyes It selfe to those formes that the common sense It actuates with his motion, and thereby Those fictions true seeme and have reall act: So, in the strength of our conceits awake, The cause alike doth [oft] like fictions make. Gui. Be what it will, twas a presage of something Waightie and secret, which th'advertisements I have receiv'd from all parts, both without And in this kingdome, as from Rome and Spaine, Lorraine and Savoye, gives me cause to thinke, All writing that our plots catastrophe, For propagation of the Catholique cause, Will bloudy prove, dissolving all our counsailes. Cler. Retyre, then, from them all. Gui. I must not doe so. The Arch-Bishop of Lyons tels me plaine I shall be said then to abandon France In so important an occasion;65 And that mine enemies (their profit making Of my faint absence) soone would let that fall, That all my paines did to this height exhale. Cler. Let all fall that would rise unlawfully! Make not your forward spirit in vertues right70 A property for vice, by thrusting on Further then all your powers can fetch you off. It is enough, your will is infinite To all things vertuous and religious, Which, within limits kept, may without danger75 Let vertue some good from your graces gather. Avarice of all is ever nothings father. Umb. Danger (the spurre of all great mindes) is ever The curbe to your tame spirits; you respect not (With all your holinesse of life and learning)80 More then the present, like illiterate vulgars; Your minde (you say) kept in your fleshes bounds Showes that mans will must rul'd be by his power: When by true doctrine you are taught to live Rather without the body then within, And rather to your God still then your selfe. To live to Him is to doe all things fitting His image in which like Himselfe we live; To be His image is to doe those things That make us deathlesse, which by death is onely Doing those deedes that fit eternitie; And those deedes are the perfecting that justice That makes the world last, which proportion is Of punishment and wreake for every wrong, As well as for right a reward as strong:95 Away, then! use the meanes thou hast to right The wrong I suffer'd. What corrupted law Leaves unperform'd in Kings, doe thou supply, And be above them all in dignitie. Exit. Gui. Why stand'st thou still thus, and applyest thine eares And eyes to nothing? Cler. Saw you nothing here? Gui. Thou dream'st awake now; what was here to see? Cler. My brothers spirit, urging his revenge. Gui. Thy brothers spirit! pray thee mocke me not. Cler. No, by my love and service. Gui. Would he rise, 105 And not be thundring threates against the Guise? Cler. You make amends for enmitie to him, With tenne parts more love and desert of mee; And as you make your hate to him no let Of any love to mee, no more beares hee110 (Since you to me supply it) hate to you. Which reason and which justice is perform'd In spirits tenne parts more then fleshy men; To whose fore-sights our acts and thoughts lie open: And therefore, since hee saw the treacherie115 Late practis'd by my brother Baligny, Hee would not honor his hand with the justice (As hee esteemes it) of his blouds revenge, To which my sister needes would have him sworne, Before she would consent to marry him.120 Gui. O Baligny!—who would beleeve there were A man that (onely since his lookes are rais'd Upwards, and have but sacred heaven in sight) Could beare a minde so more then divellish? As for the painted glory of the countenance,125 Flitting in Kings, doth good for nought esteeme, And the more ill hee does, the better seeme. Cler. Wee easily may beleeve it, since we see In this worlds practise few men better be. Justice to live doth nought but justice neede,130 But policie must still on mischiefe feede. Untruth, for all his ends, truths name doth sue in; None safely live but those that study ruine. A good man happy is a common good; Ill men advanc'd live of the common bloud.135 Gui. But this thy brothers spirit startles mee, These spirits seld or never hanting men But some mishap ensues. Cler. Ensue what can; Tyrants may kill but never hurt a man; All to his good makes, spight of death and hell. Enter Aumall. Aumale. All the desert of good renowne your Highnesse! Gui. Welcome, Aumall! Cler. My good friend, friendly welcome! How tooke my noblest mistresse the chang'd newes? Aum. It came too late sir, for those loveliest eyes (Through which a soule look't so divinely loving,145 Teares nothing uttering her distresse enough) She wept quite out, and, like two falling starres, Their dearest sights quite vanisht with her teares. Cler. All good forbid it! Gui. What events are these! Cler. All must be borne, my lord; and yet this chance150 Would willingly enforce a man to cast off All power to beare with comfort, since hee sees In this our comforts made our miseries. Gui. How strangely thou art lov'd of both the sexes; Yet thou lov'st neyther, but the good of both.155 Cler. In love of women my affection first Takes fire out of the fraile parts of my bloud; Which, till I have enjoy'd, is passionate Like other lovers; but, fruition past, I then love out of judgement, the desert160 Of her I love still sticking in my heart, Though the desire and the delight be gone, Which must chance still, since the comparison Made upon tryall twixt what reason loves, And what affection, makes in mee the best165 Ever preferd, what most love, valuing lest. Gui. Thy love being judgement then, and of the minde, Marry thy worthiest mistresse now being blinde. Cler. If there were love in mariage, so I would; But I denie that any man doth love,170 Affecting wives, maides, widowes, any women: For neither flyes love milke, although they drowne In greedy search thereof; nor doth the bee Love honey, though the labour of her life Is spent in gathering it; nor those that fat On beasts, or fowles, doe any thing therein For any love: for as when onely nature Moves men to meate, as farre as her power rules, Shee doth it with a temperate appetite, The too much men devoure abhorring nature,180 And in our most health is our most disease: So, when humanitie rules men and women, Tis for societie confinde in reason. But what excites the beds desire in bloud, By no meanes justly can be construed love;185 For when love kindles any knowing spirit, It ends in vertue and effects divine, And is in friendship chaste and masculine. Gui. Thou shalt my mistresse be; me thinkes my bloud Is taken up to all love with thy vertues.190 And howsoever other men despise These paradoxes strange and too precise, Since they hold on the right way of our reason, I could attend them ever. Come, away; Performe thy brothers thus importun'd wreake;195 And I will see what great affaires the King Hath to employ my counsell which he seemes Much to desire, and more and more esteemes. Exeunt. LINENOTES: |
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