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') ! -'■ 




New Volumes in the 

Library of Scholarship 
and Letters. 

800, cUah ixtra, giU. Each 6l. 

CHAPKAH (6B0R6B) : Oomplcto Works, edited with Intro- 
duction, various Readings and Notes by T. F. Parrott, 
Professos of English Literature in the University of 
Princeton. Each Play carefuUv collated with the Quartoe 
in the British Museum, the Bocueian Library, and libraries 
on the Continent. 3 vols., 8vo, cloth extra, each 61. 
!• TrtgedlM* 8« OomsdlM* 8* Poenii* 

OTHBWULF: Poems. Translated into English Prose, and 
edited by Prof. C. W. KsmcsDY, Ph.D., with aA bitro- 
diictiont CfoWB Svo^ cloth eztn, ta» 

Roman Ufe and Maaaon nnder tho Early Empire. By 
LuDWio FaiEDLABNDBR. Translated, with the author's 
consent, from the 7th edition of the *' Sittengeschichte 
Roms," by J. H. Frbesx, M.A., and Leonard A. Magnus, 
LL.B. Cloth extra, gilt, crown 8vo. 3 vols. Each Oi. 

CEMTURT. Selected and Edited, with a Runnhig Com- 
mentary, by F. A. MuMBY, with 16 full-page Photogravure 
Plates. 8vo, cloth extra, gilt, 6s. 

AlreAdT issued. 
BIB8B : Dtfolopmeat of tho Fooliag for Ratoro. 
OURLB : Anoeli of Goorgo Meredith. 
SMTTHE PALMER (edited) : The Ideal of a GonUoman. 
8U0KLIMG : Comploto Pootftai Works. Edited by A. Hamot 

TON Thompson. 
TAYLOR : Words and Plaoos, edited by Dr. Smythb Palmbr. 
WALTOE : Oompleto Angler : Major's edition, iUustrated. 









Ni«r York: E. P. DmTON * CO 

First printed in 1910. 


5n AetnotUim 

n -i ' at 


This, the first volume of a new edition of the plays and poems 
of George Chapman, includes his tragedies, Bussy D*AnU)ois, 
The Revenge of Bussy, The Conspiracy and Tragedy of Byron, 
Chabot, and Casar and Pompey, together with the two tragedies 
ascribed to him by their first publishers, Alphonsus Emperor of 
Germany, and Revenge for Honour, The second volume will 
contain his comedies, and the third his poems, along with a 
general introduction, a glossary, and a bibliography. 

The need of a complete edition of Chapman's plays and poems 
has long been felt by students of Elizabethan literature. It was 
not until more than two centuries after his death that the first 
collection of his plays. The Comedies and Tragedies of George 
Chapman, London, 1873, appeared. This collection was incom- 
plete, omitting Chabot and Eastward Ho, and the text which 
professed to be an exact reprint of the old editions left much to 
be desired. In 1874-5 the first complete edition of his works 
appeared, edited by R. H. Shepherd, who is generally understood 
to have been the editor of the previous edition. This later edi- 
tion, although remedying the omissions of the former, is satis- 
factory neither to the general reader nor to the student of the 
Elizabethan drama. There is no need to go into details here ; 
evidence of the careless manner in which the task was performed 
will be found in abundance in my Text Notes to the various 
plays. Since 1875 only selected plays of Chapman have been 
published, and of these the largest collection, that included in 
the Mermaid Series, rests upon the work of Mr. Shepherd. There 
is, I believe, ample room for a new and complete edition, which 
will at once satisfy the demand of scholars for an accurate text, 
and present the work of the noble old poet in a form suited to 
the general reading public. 

Such, at least, is the opinion of the present editor, and it is at 
tbja goal that he has aimed in the preparation of the present 




The text has been the object of peculiar care. Founded in 
every case but^ one upon the first edition of the play in question, 
it has been compared, wherever possible, with later editions in 
Chapman's own age, and with the work of modem editors. 

The spelling has been modernized throughout, and for this, 
in a work offered to the general public, I believe that I need 
offer no apology. Exact reproductions of old books are for a 
limited circle of scholars. They are not editions in the true 
sense of the word, as I understand it, but merely material from 
which scholars who have not access to the originals may construct 
editions. Nothing is gained for the general reader, nor indeed for 
the average student, by reproducing wit^ painful exactness the 
misprints, variants in spelling, often due to the old composi- 
tors rather than to the author, and the confusing punctuation 
of the old texts. 

On the other hand, I have attempted to keep, so far as possi- 
ble, the actual language of the author. I have made no attempt 
to correct his grammar in accordance with our modem notions 
of propriety. I have even retained the old spellings when they 
appeared to me to denote a true, though now obsolete form of 
the word, as, for example, muriher, shipwrach, and porcpisc. 
Here I have in the main followed the guidance of the New English 
DicHonary, modernizing such forms as it includes under the mere 
variants of spelling, and retaining those to which it assigns an 
independent place. That I have been strictly consistent in 
dealhig with the hundreds of cases on which I have had to pass 
judgment, I will not venture to assert. Compromises are rarely 
consistent, and this edition is a frank attempt to find a middle 
ground between a slavish retention of the errors of the old texts, 
and such a radical revision as would dispel the ancient flavour 
of the work. 

In the matter of metre, I have gone perhaps to undue lengths 
in my desire to retain the old. Nothing, I think, is clearer than 
that Elizabethan blank verse, written for the stage and meant 
to be judged by the ear rather than the eye, differed very widely 
from our modem conception of the ten-syllable iambic line 
meant rather to be read than heard. What seem to us irregu- 
larities and even palpable errors, were licenses which were claimed 
and freely employed by the Elizabethan playwright. I have 

^ The one ezoeption is Bussy D'Awbois, where the edition ol ^64 1 present^ 
Cbapm4a'9 own revi^iou of his te^tt. See Notes, p. 5^1, 


therefore seldom emended a line for the sake of rendering it 
more ' regular/ never, indeed, except when I have been per- 
suaded that the ' irregularity ' was not due to the author, but 
had occurred at press. 

One typographical matter I may be allowed to mention here. 
Chapman, it seems, was in the habit ^ of denoting the contracted 
pronunciation of the past tense and the past participle in -^ by 
using the apostrophe ; where he wrote out the e he meant to 
indicate that the final syllable was to be pronounced. I have 
followed this usage throughout, even at the cost of reproducing 
forms that may seem uncouth to modem eyes ; where I have 
altered it I have treated the alteration as a correction of the 
text and have noted it in the Text Notes. 

Any additions that I have made either to the text or to the 
stage directions of the old editions I have included within square 
brackets. Where the alteration has involved the dropping of a- 
word or part of a word, as in the change of suspecHon to suspect, 
on p. 362, 1. 105, it has been impossible to indicate this in the 
text, but all such changes have been carefully recorded in the 
text notes. In regard to the text itself no comment is necessary 
on this customary practice, but a word may be in place in regard 
to the added stage directions. 

It is a matter of common knowledge that the earliest editions 
of Elizabethan plays are, to our modem minds, extremely de- 
ficient in stage directions. So scanty are they, indeed, that 
<iften it is difBicult to grasp the situation at a glance without 
adding, in imagination at least, the stage directions that a 
modem author would supply. To facilitate the reading, then, 
of Shakespeare or of Chapman, I beheve that a modem editor 
is justified in introducing whatever stage directions may seem 
to him to conduce to this end. On the other hand, to omit 
to distingmsh such additions from the original directions is at 
once to give a false impression of the old texts, and to render 
the edition quite unreliable for that study of the Elizabethan 
stage to which at present so much attention is being directed, and 
from which such valuable results are, we may well hope, shortly 
to be obtained. I have, therefore, added stage diiectionb wheie- 
ever I saw fit, knowing that all danger of confusing my additions 
with the original was prevented by the typographical device of 
including the new within square brackets. 

1 InsUnoes of this usage' nuiy be found in the first lines of the first play of 
ti»s volume, Bussy, I, i. 19 and 22* Ct with these I. i, 44* 


One additton alone is not so nKarkad. Where the old texts 
gave us no ' list of the dramaHs persona I have supplied such a 
list, omitting on account of the awkward appearance of the 
device to include the whole list within square brackets, but 
calling attention to it in the Text Notes. Where the old text gives 
a list, but omits one or more of the personages, the additions are 
maiiced as usual. 

For the convenience of the reader and for the purposes of 
reference I have divided the usually' unbroken acts of the 
original into scenes and have numboied each scene separately. 

The notes, beginning on p. 541 of this volume, include a special 
introduction, illustrative and explanatory notes, and text notes 
on each play. The introduction attempts to give whatever is 
known as to the date of composition, the sources, the stage his- 
tory, and so forth, of the play, together with a brief appreciation 
of its pecxdiar characteristics. In the case of collaboration or 
of disputed authorship I have tried to give a careful and, I hope, 
impartial survey of the facts on which I have based my con- 
clusions. So fau: as possible I have tried to give an answer to 
the varied problems presented by these plays, but I do not pre- 
sume to think that I have in any case ' settled Hoti's business.* 
I can only hope that my work has made the conditions of the 
problems clearer, and brought them some stages nearer to a 
final sohitian. 

The notes in general are meant to elucidate and illustrate the 
text. Chapman is by no means easy reading. Swinburne ranks 
him along with Fulke Greville as ' of all English poets the most 
genuinely obscure in style.' I have tried to throw light upon 
his obscurities, sometimes by comment, sometimes by the method 
of paraphrase; but I cannot pretend to have solved all the 
difficulties which the text presents. The definition of single 
words has as a rule been left to the Glossary, which will appear 
in the third volume. Special attention has been paid in these 
notes to Chapma:n*s use of his sources, to his borrowings from 
ihe classics, to parallels with other Elizabethan writeis, and to 
parallels with other passages in his own work illustrative of his 
Mck of repetition. ^'' 

The text notes give an account of the former editions, both 

^ This 18 the case, for example, with Bussy, The Omspiraey and Tragedy cf 
Byron, and CkabaL 

* Revenge for Honoue alone of the plays ia this volume preseats the myodem 
division iato scenes. 


contemporary and modem, and record the various readings of 
the old editions, where more than one exists, except in the case 
of mere variants of spelling. Even these latter are noted, how- 
ever, when they may throw light upon any difficulty. The 
readings from tibie old texts are, of course, given vwbtUim ei 
literatim, so that the reader may see how far the alterations pro- 
posed or adopted are justified. I have recorded also the most 
important emendations proposed by modem editors or com- 
mentators even when these have not been received into the text. 
In short, I have tried to make these notes full enough to enable 
the reader who is interested in such things to check my text, to 
restore, if he so pleases, the old, or perhaps to suggest a better 
reading than that which I have adopted. 

Finally, my thanks are due to scholars on both sides of the 
Atlantic who have assisted me in my labours. First of all to 
the late Doctor Fumivall, to whom tiiis volume is dedicated, as 
a slight token of gratitude for many instances of personal kind- 
ness and scholarly counsel ; then to Dr. Bradley, Mr. P. A. Daniel, 
and Mr. Le Gay Brereton, from all of whom I have received 
valuable aid in the construction and annotation of the text. I 
owe Mr. Charles Crawford special thanks for placing at my dis- 
posal a series of parallel references in Chapman which have more 
than once availed to solve perplexing difficulties. I have made 

frequent use of Professor Koeppel's (2^4^^^^^^^^^ sudenDramen 
Chapman's, and take this opportunity to acknowledge my in- 
debtedness to my friend, the author. To my colleague, Dr. Ken- 
nedy, of Princeton University, I owe a deep debt for hours of 
long and painstaking labour spent with me in the determination 
of the text and the correction of proof sheets. Nor must I omit 
to thank Mr. T. J. Wise, of London, and Mr. Armour, of Prince- 
ton, for their kindness in allowing me the use of their copies of 
old editions of Chapman. And finally along with hundreds of 
workers in the field of English letters my sincerest thanks are 
due to the authorities of the British Museum and the Bodleian 
for the courteous assistance which alone renders work like this 

The list of Errata, somewhat longer than I should like, is due, 
in part at least, to the circumstances under which I have been 
forced to read the proof. I dare not hope that it is complete, 
and will be grateful to all who will point out other errors in text 
or comment for future correction. 

T. M, P. 

Oxford, September, 1910, 



Pkxfacb vii 

List op Cossigbmda xiv 

BussY D'Ambois X 

Trb Rsvbngb of Bussy D'Ambois • • 75 

Thb Conspibacy and Tragbdy of Chablbs Duxb of Bybon 149 

Thb Tbagbdy of Chabot Advxbal of Fbancb 273 

Thb Tbagbdy of Cbsab and Pompby .... 339 

Thb Tbagbdy of Alfhonsxts Ekpbbob of Gbbmany .401 

Rbvbngx fob Honoub 473 

NoTBs: — 

Bussy D'Ambois 541 

Thb Rbvbngb of Bussy D'Ambois -571 

Thb Conspibacy and Tbagbdy of Bybon -591 

Thb Tbagbdy of Chabot 631 

Cabsab and Pompby 655 

Alphonsus Empbbob of Gbbmany .... 683 
Rbvbngb fob Honoub 713 



Page 15, 









• f 


• > 

• > 


















1. 146, far a read o'. 

in the headline, far Act II read Act III. 

1. 183, far Chymaera read Chimaera. 

far ghastls] read Ghast[s], 

supply the marginal number 150. 

1' 159. for Char, read [Char.]. 

1. 96, far Casimir read Casimer. 

1. 38, far Bastile read Bastille. 

1. 170, dele the comma after mind. 

1. 210, far Char, read [Char.]. 

1. 144 and elsewhere, far Fountaine Fran9oise read Fontaine 

1. 68, far realities read realties. 
1. 46, far others read other. 
in the stage direction amit and. 
1. 77, amit the before favour. 
the marginal number 40 should be one line lower, 
amit and in the stage direction after 1. 42. 
in the stage direction after 1. 208 for Exit read Exeunt. 
U- 313. 315. 316, 318, 329. 332, include Judge in brackets. 

403, far home read [home]. 

14Z, far had read Had. 

282, far l3aicean read L3aicean. 

68, far above read [a]bove. 
in the headline far Act V read Act IV. 

120, for possess read profess. 

200, for Oot read Out. 

147, far ton read tun. 

37, far Lorrain read Lorraine. 

243i for conforted read comforted. 

181, far art read part. 

109, far schelm read schelm. 

29, far Rheinpfal[z] read ReinfaL 

100, far We'U read We['ll]. 

146, far spiel fresh up read spiel fresh up. 

183, far Ric read Rich, 

348, far Ate read At6. 

78, for Lieve read SOsse. 

124, far Abo[la]fi read Abo[la]ffi. 

373, dele the comma after East. 

4, insert commas after Do and affections. 

113, dele the comma after the parenthesis. 

136, far [Enter Mura] read {Enter Mura). 

212, far befits read befit [s]. 

8, far ton read tun. 

I, far [withauii read [^tfain].. 

149, insert a dash after her. 

113, far 'Twere read ['Twere]. 

200, far [Cries withoui] read [Cries within]. 

209, far [Enter Simanthes] read {Enter Simanthes). 

289, for starts read start[s]. 

336, far festivals read festival[s]. 

24* for prince rettd Prince. 
coiumn J, L 45, for like read likely. 

15, for 261-6 read 256-61. 
column 2, far 239 read 234. 





Bussy d'Ambois 


Not out of confidence that none but we "^ 

Are able to present this tragedy. 

Nor ont of envy at the grace of late 

It did receive, nor yet to derogate 

From their deserts, who give out boldly that 5 

They move with equal feet on the same flat ; 

Neither for all, nor any of such ends. 

We offer it, gracious and noble friends. 

To your review ; we, far from emulation 

(And, charitably judge, from imitation) 10 

With this work entertain you, a piece known, 

And still believed in Court to be our own. 

To quit our claim, doubting our right or merit. 

Would argue in us poverty of spirit 

Which we must not subscribe to : Fibld is gone, 1 5 

Whose action first did give it name, and one 

Who came the nearest to him, is denied 

By his gray beard to show the height and pride 

Of D'Ambois' youth and bravery ; yet to hold 

Our title still a-foot, and not grow cold 30 

By giving it o'er, a third man with his best 

Of care and pains defends our interest ; 

As Richard he was liked, nor do we fear 

In peiBonating D'Ambois he'll appear 

To fiunt, or go less, so your free consent, 35 

As heretofore, give him encouragement. 


Henry III, King of France 
Monsieur, his brother 
The Duke of Guise 
The Count of Montsurry 
Bussy d'Ambois 




Courtiers ; 

enemies of 


Courtiers ; 

friends of Bussy 
Beaumond, an attendant on the 

Comolet, a Friar. 
Mafi6, steward to Monsieur 

Umbra of the Friar 

] Spirits 

Elenor, Duchess of Guise 
Tamyra, Countess of , Mont" 

Beaupr6, niece to Elenor 
Annable, maid to Elenor 
Pero, maid to Tamyra 
Charlotte, maid to Beaupri 
Pyra, a court lady 

Courtiers, Ladies, Pages, Ser- 
vants, Spirits, to. 


[A Forest near Paris] 

Enter Bussy d'Ambois, poor 

Bus. 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 oi Fortune, 
Think th^ bear all the kingdom's worth before them; 
Yet differ not from those colossic statues, 15 

Which, with heroic forms without o'er-spread, 
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 fain to give a warning-piece, and call 25 

A poor, staid flsherman, that nev^ pass'd 
His country's si^t, to waft and guide them in : 
So when we wander furthest through the waves 
Of glassy Glory, and the gaUs of State, 

Topt with all titles, spreading all our reaches, 30 

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. 


Enter Monsieur with two Pages 

Mons. There is no second place in numerous state 
That holds more than a cipher ; in a king 35 

All places are contained. 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 precedent for mean men's facts : 40 

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 foUow'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. 

[Approaching Bussy.] 
What, D'Ambois ? 

Bus. He, sir. 

Mons. Tum'd to earth, alive ? 

Up, man ; the sun shines on thee. 

Bus. 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 sun ? 
They say so that would have thee freeze in shades. 
That (like the gross Sicilian gourmandist) 
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 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 Camillas had lurk'd so in Rome, 

He had not five times been Dictator there, 

Nor four times triumphed. If Epaminondas 70 

fWho 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 bia strength, he rescu'd both 

From imminent ruin ; and like bumish'd steel, 75 

After long use he shin'd ; for as the light 

Not only serves to show, but renders 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. 

Bus. What would you wish me ? 

Mans. Leave the troubled streams, 

And live, where thrivers do, at the well-head. 

Bus. At the well-head ? Alas, what should I do 
With that enchanted glass ? See devils there ? 85 

Or, like a strumpet, learn to set my looks 
In an eternal brake, or practise juggling. 
To keep my face stiU fast, my heart stiU loose ; 
Or bear (like dame schoolmistresses their riddles) 
Two tongues, and be good only for a shift ; 90 

Flatter great lords, to put them still in mind 
Why they were made lords ; or please humorous ladies 
With a good carriage, tell them idle tales 
To make their physic work ; spend a man's Ufe 
In sights and visitations that will make 95 

His e3res 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 
AH 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 preach'd) t'unfold their art 
Learn to commit them ? 'Tis a great man's part. 
Shall I learn this there ? 

Mans. No, thou need'st not learn. 

Thou hast the theory ; now go there and practise. 105 

Bus. Ay, in a threadbare suit ; when men come there. 
They must have high naps, and go from thence bare : 
A man may drown the parts of ten rich men 


In one poor snit ; brave barks and outward gloss 

Attract Court loves, be in-parts ne'er so gross. no 

Mons. Thou shalt have gloss enough, and all things fit 

T'enchase in all show thy long-smother'd 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 [vfith the Pages]. Manet Bussy 
Bus, What will he send ? Some crowns ? It is to sow 

Upon my spirit, and make them spring a crown 120 

Worth millions of the seed-crowns he will send. 

Like to disparking 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. 

EnUr Maff6 

Maf. Humour of princes ! Is this wretch indu'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 m him ? 
I must examine this. {To Bussy.] Is your name D'Am- 
bois ? 

Bus. Sir ? 

Maf. Is your name D'Ambois ? 

Bus. Who have we here ? 150 

Serve you the Monsieur ? 

Maf. How ? 

Bus. Serve you the Monsieur ? 

Maf. Sir, y'are very hot. I do serve the Monsieur, 
But in such place as gives ma the command 
Of all bis other servants. And because 

His Grace's pleasure is to give your good 155 

His pass through my command, methinks you might 
Use me with more respect. 

Bus. Cry you mercy ! 

Now you have open'd my dull eyes, I see you. 
And would be glad to see the good you speak of ; 
What might I call your name ? 160 

Maf. Monsieur Maff6. 

Bus. Monsieur MafE6 ? Then, good Monsieur Maf[6, 
Pray let me know you better. 

Maf. 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 ? 

Bus. Pamphlet ? 

Maf. Pamphlet, sir, I say. 

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

Maf. Though he did not, sir, 

I hope 'tis no rude office to ask reason 170 

Hpw that his Grace gives me in charge, goes from me ? 

Bus. That's very perfect, sir. 

Maf. 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 wiUing to reheve you ? 175 

Bus. No merit in the world, sir. 

Maf. That is strange. 

Y'are a poor soldier, are you ? 


Bus, That I am, sir. 

Maf. And have commanded ? 

Bus, Ay, and gone without, sir. 

Maf. [aside] I see the man ; a hundred crowns will 
make hiin 
Swagger, and drink healths to his Grace's bounty, i8o 

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. 

Bus. 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 poet, as I am a soldier, 
And I can poetise, and (being well encourag'd) 
May sing his fame for giving, yours for delivering- 
(Like a most faithful steward) what he gives. 190 

Maf. What shall your subject be ? 

Bus. 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 
And vcdvet jacket ? Can your Worship dance ? 195 

Maf. [aside] A pleasant fellow, 'faith ; it seems my lord 
Will have him for his jester ; and, by'rlady, 
Such men are now no fools ; 'tis a Imight'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, 3^t 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. — Here, Sir Ambo ! 

Bus. How, Ambo, sir ? 

Maf. Ay, is not your name Ambo ? 

Bus. You call'd me lately D'Ambois ; has your Worship 
So short a head ? 

Maf. I cry thee mercy, D'Ambois. 210 

A thousand crowns I bring you from my lord : 
Serve God, play the good husband ; you may make 
This a good standing living: 'tis a bounty 
His Highness might perhaps have bestow'd better. 


Bus. Go, y'are a rascal; hence, away, yoa rogue I 215 

Maf. What mean you, sir ? 

Bus. Hence I Prate no more. 

Or, by thy villain's blood, thou prat'st thy last I 
A barbarous groom grudge at his master's bounty ! 
But since I know he would as much abhor 
His hind should argue what he gives his Mend, 320 

Take that, sir, [striking html for your aptness to dispute. 


Maf. These crowns are set in blood ; blood be their 
fruit I Exit 


A Room in ihs Court] 

[The curtain is drawn disclosing] Henry, Guise, Montsurry* 
Elenor, Tamyra, Beaupr^, Pero, Charlotte, Pyra, An- 
nable. [Henry and the Guise are playing chess] 

Hen. Duchess of Guise, your Grace is much enrich'd 
In the attendance of that English virgin. 
That wiU initiate her prime of youth 
(Dispos'd to Court conditions) under the hand 
Of your preferred instructions and command, 5 

Ratiier than any in the English Court, 
Whose ladies are not match'd in Christendom 
For graceful and confirmed behaviours ; 
More than the Court, where they are bred, is eqnall'd. 

Guise. 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. 

Mont. No question she's the rarest queen in Europe. 

Guise. But what's that to her immortality ? 15 

Hen. Assure 3rou, cousin Guise, so great a courtier. 
So full of majesty and royzl 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. Om- French G>urt 

Is a mere mirror of confusion to it : 

The king and subject, lord and every slave. 

Dance a continual hay ; our rooms of state 

Kept like our stables ; no place more observed 30 

Than a rude market-place : and though our custom 

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 

To this of ours, and then compare them both ; 35 

Which we must not affect, because in kingdoms 

Where the king's change doth breed the subject's terror. 

Pure innovation is more gross than error. 

Mont. 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 to bring forth rare men. 
Come home, deliver'd of a fine French suit ; 45 

Their brains Ue 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, disffgur'd with the attires of men. 50 

Hen. 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 in others plumes so haughtily ; 

We proud that they are proud of foolery, 55 

Holding our worths more complete for liieir vaunts. 

Enter Monsieur and D'Ambois 

Mons. Come, mine own sweetheart, I will enter thee. 
\To the King] Sir, I have brought a gentleman to Court, 
And pray you would vouchsafe to do him grace. 

Hen. D'Ambois, I think P 

Bus. That's stiU my name, my lord, 60 

Though I be something alter'd in attire. 

Hen. 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 

Bus. Nor doth she use to seek out any man : 
They that wiQ win must woo her. 

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

Hen, If you have woo'd and won, then, brother, wear him. 70 

Mons. Th'art mine, sweetheart. See, here's Ihe Guise's 
The G>untess of Montsurreau, Beaupr6. 
Come, ril enseam thee. Ladies, y'are too many 
To be in council ; I have here a friend 
That I would gladly enter in your graces. 75 

Bus. 'Save you, ladies. 

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

Tarn. Has he never been courtier, my lord ? 

Mons. Never, my lady. 80 

Beau. And why did the toy take him in th' head now ? 

Bus. 'Tis leap-year, lady, and therefore very good to 
enter a courtier. 

Hen. Mark, Duchess of Guise, there is one is not bashful. 

Duck. No, my lord, he is much guilty of the bold extre- 85 

Tarn. The man's a courtier at first sight. 

Bus. I can sing prick-song, lady, at first sight ; and why 
not be a courtier as suddenly ? 

Beau. Here's a courtier rotten before he be ripe. 90 

Bus. Think me not impudent, lady ; I am yet no courtier : 
I desire to be one, and would gladly take entrance, madam, 
[To the Duchess] under your princely colours. 

Enter Barrisor, L'Anou, and Pyrhot 

Duch. Soft, sir, you must rise by degrees, first being the 
servant of some common lady, or knight's wile', then a little 95 
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. 

Bus. Do you aUow a man, then, four mistresses, when the 
greatest mistress is allowed but three servants ? 

Duck. Where find yon Hiat statute, sir ? zoo 

Bus. Why, be judged by the groom-porters. 

Dueh. The groom-porters ? 


Bus, Ay, madam ; must not they jadge of all gamings i' 
th' Court? 
Duch. You talk like a gamester. 105 

Guise. Sir, know you me ? 
Bus. My lord? 

Guise. I know not you ; whom do you serve ? 
Bus. Serve, my lord 1 

Guiu. Go to, companion, your courtship's too saucy, no 
Bus. [Aside] Saucy 1 Companion 1 'Tis the Guise, but 
yet those terms might have been spared of the Guisard. Com- 
panion I He's jealous, by this light. Are you blind of that 
side, Duke ? I'll to her again for that — ^Forth, princely mis- 
tress, for the honour of courtship. Another riddle I 115 

Guise. Cease your courtship^ or by heaven I'll cut your 

Bus, Cut my throat ? Cut a whetstone 1 Young Accius 
Naevius, do as much with your tongue, as he did with a razor : 
cut my throat 1 120 

Bar, What new-come gallant have we here, that dares 
mate the Guise thus ? 

L'An. 'Sfoot, 'tis D'Ambois. The Duke mistakes him, 
on my life, for some knight of the new edition. 

Bus, Cut my throat ! I would the King feared thy cut- 125 
ting of his throat no more than I fear thy cutting of mine. 
Guise. I'll do 't, by this hand. 

Bus. That hand dares not do't. 

Y'ave cut too many throats already. Guise, 
And robb'd the reaJm of many thousand souls, 130 

More precious than thine own. Come, madam, talk on. 
'Sfoot, can you not talk ? Talk on, I say. 
Another riddle 1 
Pyr. Here's some strange distemper. 

Bar, Here's a sudden transmigration with D'Ambois — 
out of the knights' ward into the duchess' bed. 135 

L'An, See what a metamorphosis a brave suit can work. 
Pyr. 'Slight, step to the Guise and discover him. 
Bar, By no means ; let the new suit work ; we'll see the 
Guise. Leave your courting. 140 

Bus, I wiU not. — ^I say, mistress, and I will stand unto it, 
that if a woman may have three servants, a man may have 
! threescore mistresses. 


Guise. Sinah, I'll have you whipped out of the Court for 
this insolence. 145 

Bus. Whipped ? Such another syllable out a th' preseace* 
if thou dar'st for thy dukedom. 

Guise. Remember, poltroon. 

Mons. [To Bussy.] Pray thee, forbear. 

Bus. Passion of death 1 Were not the King here, he i $0 
should strow the chamber like a rush. 

Mans. But leave courting his wife, then. 

Bus. I wiU not. I'll court her in despite of him. Not 
court her 1 — Come, madam, talk on, fear me nothing. — 
[To Guise] Well may'st thou drive thy master from the Court, 155 
but never D'Ambois. 

Mons. [Aside"] His great heart will not down, 'tis like Ihe 

That partly by his own internal heat, 

Partly the stars' daily and nightly motion. 

Their heat and light, and partly of the place 160 

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 buist) 

To make retreat into his set^ed home. 

Till he be crown'd with his own quiet foam. 165 

Hen. You have the mate. Another ? 

Guise. No more. Flourish short 

Exit Guise, after him the King \and\ Monsieur whisperiirg 

Bar. Why, here's the lion, scared wi th the throat of a dung- 
hill cock ; a fellow that has newly shaked off his shackles ; 
now does he crow for that victory. 170 

L'A n. 'Tis one of the best jigs that ever was acted. 

Pyr. Whom does the Guise suppose him to be» txow ? 

L*An. Out of doubt, some new denizened lord, and thinks 
that suit newly drawn out o' th' mercer's books. 

Bar. I have heard of a fellow, that by a fixed imagination 175 
looking upon a bull-baiting, had a visible pair of horns grew 
out of his forehead, and I believe this gallant, overjoyed witii 
the conceit oi Monsieur's cast suit, imagines himself to be the 

L'An. Andwhynot? asweliastheas8,stalkingintheUon'8 180 
case, bare himself like a lion, bra3ang all the huger beasts out 
of the forest ? 

Pyr. Peace, he looks this way. 


Bat. Marry, let him look, sir, what will you aay now if 
the Guise be gone to fetch a blanket for him ? 185 

VAn. Faith, I believe it for his honour sake. 

Pyf. But, if D'Ambois carry it clean ? Eofeunt Ladies. 

Bar. True, when he curvets in the blanket. 

Pyr. Ay, marry, sir. 

VAn. 'Sfoot, see how he stares on's. 190 

Bar. Lord bless us, let's away. 

Bus. [To Barrisor] Now, sir, take your full view, how 
does the object please ye ? 

Bar. If you ask my opinion, sir, I think your suit fits as 
well as if't had been made for you. 195 

Bus. So, sir, and was that the subject of your ridiculous 
joUity ? 

L'An. What's that to you, sir ? 

Bus. Sir, I have observed all your fleerings ; and resolve 
yourselves ye shall give a strict account for't. 200 

Enter Brisac and Melynell 

Bar. Oh, miraculous jealousy ! Do you think yourself 
such a singular subject for laughter that none can fall into the ' 
matter of our merriment but you ? 

L'An. This jealousy of yours, sir, confesses some close 
defect in yourself that we never dreamed of. 205 

Pyr. We held discourse of a perfumed ass, that being dis- 
guised in a lion's case, imagined himself a lion : I hope that 
touched not you. 

Bus. So, sir ; your descants do marvellous well fit this 
ground ; we shall meet where your bufioonly laughters will 210 
cost ye the best blood in your bodies. 

Bar. For life's sake let's be gone ; he'll kill's outright else. 

Bus. Go, at your pleasures, I'll be your ghost to haunt 
you ; and ye sleep on't, hang me. 

L'An. Go, go, sir ; court your mistress. 215 

Pyr. And be advised ; we shall have odds against you. 

Bus. Tush, valour stands not in number 1 I'll maintain it, 
that one man may beat three boys. 

Bris. [To the Covaiier^ Nay, you shall have no odds of him 
in number, sir ; he's a gentleman as good as the proudest of 220 
3rou, and ye shall not wrong him. 

Bar. Not, sir ? 

Mel. Not, sir: though he be not so rich, he's a better man 
than the best of 3rou ; and I will not endure it. 


VAn, Not you, sir ? 225 

Bm. No, sir, nor I. 

Bus. [To Brisac and Mel3mell] I should thank you for this 
kindness, if 1 thought these perfumed musk-cats (being out of 
this privilege) diirst but once mew at us. 

Bar. Does your confident spirit doubt that, sir ? Follow 230 
us and try. 

VAn. Come, sir, we'll lead 3^u a dance. Ex$ufU 



[A Room in the Courf] 
Henry, Guise, Montsurry, [Beaumond] and Attendants 

Hen. This desperate quarrel sprung out of their envies 
To D'Ambois' sudden bravery, and great spirit. 

Guise. Neither is worth their envy. 

Hen. Less than either 

Will make the gall of Envy overflow ; 

She feeds on outcast entrails like a kite ; 5 

In which foul heap, if any ill lies hid, 
She sticks her beak into it, shakes it up. 
And hurls it all abroad, that all may view it. 
Corruption is her nutriment ; but touch her 
With any precious ointment, and you kiU her : 10 

Where she finds any filth in men, she feasts. 
And with her black throat bruits it through the world 
Being sound and healthful ; but if she but taste 
The slenderest pittance of commended virtue. 
She surfeits of it, and is like a fly 15 

That passes all the body's soundest parts, 
And dwells upon the sores ; or if her squint eye 
Have power to find none there, she forges some : 
She makes that crooked ever which is straight ; 
Calls valour giddiness, justice tyranny ; 20 

A wise man may shun her, she not herself : 
Whithersoever she flies from her harms. 
She bears her foe still clasp'd in her own arms ; 
And therefore, cousin Guise, let us avoid her. 

C.D.W. c 


Enter Nuntius 

Nun. What Atlas or Olympus lifts his head 25 

So far past covert, that with air enough 
My words may be informed, and from their height 
I may be seen and heard through all the world ? 
A tale so worthy, and so fraught with wonder 
Sticks in my jaws, and labours with event. 30 

Hen. Com'st thou from D'Ambois ? 

Nun. From him, and the rest. 

His friends and enemies ; whose stem fight I saw, 
And heard their words before and in the fray. 

Hen. Relate at large what thou hast seen and heard. 

Nun. I saw fierce D'Ambois and bis two brave friends 35 
Enter the field, and at their heels their foes ; 
Which were the famous soldiers, Barrisor, 
L'Anou, and Pyrhot, great in deeds of arms : 
All which arriv'd at the evenest piece of earth 
The field afforded, the three challengers 40 

Tum'd head, drew aU their rapiers, . and stood rank'd : 
When face to face the three defendants met them, 
Alike prepared, and resolute alike. 
Like bonfires of contributory wood 

Every man's look shew'd, fed with either's spirit ; 45 

As one had been a mirror to another. 
Like forms of life and death, each took from other ; 
And so were life and death mix'd at their heights. 
That you could see no fear of death, for life. 
Nor love of life, for death ; but in their brows 50 

P^rrho's opinion in great letters shone ; 
That life and death in all respects are one. 

Hen. Pass'd there no sort of words at their encounter ? 

Nun. As Hector, 'twixt the hosts of Greece and Troy, 
(When Paris and the Spartan king should end 55 

The nine 3rears' war) held up his brazen lance 
For signal that both hosts should cease from arms. 
And hear him speak : so Barrisor (advis'd) 
Advanc'd his ziaiked rapier 'twixt both sides, 
Ripp'd up the quarrel, and compar'd six lives 60 

Then laid in balance with six idle words ; 
Ofier'd remission and contrition too ; 
Or else that he and D'Ambois might conclude 
The others' dangers. D'Ambois lik'd the last ; 


But Baniaor's friends (being equally engag'd 63 

In the main qnanel) never would expose 

His life alone to that they all deserv'd. 

And (for the other offer of remission) 

D'Ambois (that like a laurel put in fire 

Sparkled and spit) did much much more than acorn, 70 

That his wrong should incense him so like chafi. 

To go so soon out, and like lighted paper 

Approve bis spirit at once both fire and ashes ; 

So drew they lots, and in them Fates appointed 

That Barrisor should fight with fiery D'Ambois, 75 

Pyrhot with MelyneU, with Brisac L'Anou : 

And then like flame and powder they commix'd 

So spritely that I wish'd they had been spirits. 

That the ne'er-shutting wounds they needs must open 

Might as they open'd, shut and never kill : 80 

But D'Ambois' sword (that lighten'd as it flew) 

Shot like a pointed comet at the face 

Of manly Barrisor ; and there it stuck : 

Tbiice pluck'd he at it, and thrice drew on thrusts. 

From him that of himself was free as fire ; 85 

Who thrust still as he pluck'd, yet (past belief) 
He with his subtle eye, hand, body, scap'd ; 

At last, the deadly-bitten point tugg'd ofi, 

On fell his yet undaunted foe so fiercely 

That (only made more horrid with his wound) 90 

Great D'Ambois shrunk, and gave a little ground ; 

But soon retum'd, redoubled in his danger. 

And at the heart of Barrisor seal'd his anger : 

Then, as in Arden I have seen an oak 

Long shook with tempests, and his lofty top 95 

Bent to his root, which being at length made loose 

(Even groaning with his weight) he gan to nod 

This way and that, as loath bis curled brows 

(Which he had oft wrapt in the sky with storms) 

Should stoop; and yet, his radical fibres burst, 100 

Storm-like he fell, and hid the fear-cold earth : 

So feU stout Barrisor, that had stood the shocks 

Of ten set battles in your Highness' war. 

Gainst the sole soldier of the world, Navarre. 
Guiss. Oh, piteous and horrid murther ! 
Beau, Such a life. 105 

Methinks had metal in it to survive 


An age of men. 

Hen. Such often soonest end. 

[To the Nuntiua] Thy felt report calls on ; we long to know 
On what evente the other have arriv'd. 

Nun. Sorrow and fury, like two opposite futnes no 

Met in the upper region of a cloud, 
At the report made by this worthy's fall 
Brake from the earth, and with them rose Revenge, 
Ent'ring with fresh powers his two noble friends ; 
And under that odds fell surcharg'd Brisac, 115 

The friend of D'Ambois, befwe fierce L'Anou ; 
Which D'Ambois seeing, as I once did see, 
In my young travels through Armenia, 
An angry unicorn in his full career 

Charge with too swift a foot a jeweller, 120 

That watch'd him for the treasure of his brow, 
And ere he could get shelter of a tree, 
Nail him with his rich antler to the earth: 
So D'Ambois ran upon reveng'd L'Anou, 

Who eyeing th' eager point borne in his face, 125 

And giving back, fell back, and in his fall 
His foe's uncurbed sword stopp'd in his heart: 
By which time all the life-strings of the tw'otber 
Were cut, and both fell, as their spirits flew 
Upwards, and still hunt honour at the view: 130 

And now, of all the six, sole D'Ambois stood 
Untouch'd, save only with the others* hlood. 

Hen. All slain outright but he ? 

Nun. An slain outright but he. 

Who kneeling in the warm life of his friends, 
(All freckled with the blood his rapier rain'd) 135 

He kiss'd their pale lips, and bade both farewell : 
And see the bravest man the French earth bears. 

EnUr Monsieur and D'Ambois bare 

Bus. Now is the time ; y'are princely vow'd, my friend ; 
Perform it princely, and obtain my pardon. 

Mons. Else heaven forgive not me ; come on, brave friend. 140 

[They kneel before Henry.| 
If ever Nature held herself her own, 
When the great trial of a king and subject 
Met in one blood, both from one belly springing. 
Now prove her virtue and her greatness one. 


Or make the t'one the greater with the t'other, 145 

(As true kings should) and for your brother's love 
(Which is a special species of true virtue) 
Do that you could not do, not being a king. 

Hen, Brother, I know your suit; these wilful murthers 
Are ever past our pardon. 

Mons. Manly slaughter 150 

Should never bear th'aocount of wilful murther ; 
It being a spice of justice, where with life 
Ofiending past law equal life is laid 
In equal balance, to scourge that offence 
By law of reputation, which to men 155 

Exceeds all positive law, and what that leaves 
To true men's valours (not prefixing rights 
Of satisfaction, suited to their wrongs) 
A free man's eminence may supply and take. 

Hen. This would make every man that thinks him wrong'd 160 
Or is ofiended, or in wrong or right. 
Lay on this violence ; and all vaunt themselves 
Law-menders and suppliers, though mere butchers ; 
Should this fact (though of justice) be forgiven ? 

Mans. Oh, no, my lord ; it would make cowards fear 165 
To touch the reputations of true men ; 
When only they are left to imp the law, 
Justice will soon distinguish murtherous minds 
From just revengers : had my friend been slain. 
His enemy surviving, he should die, 170 

Since he had added to a murther'd fame 
(Which was in his intent) a murther'd man ; 
And this had worthily been wilful murther ; 
But my friend only sav'd his fame's dear hfe, 
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 uprightness, worthy to survive 
Millions of such as murther men alive. 

Hen. Well, brother, rise, and raise your friend withal 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 foul pdUution ; 
Nor on yoor scape, nor valour, more presnxning 
To be 9gf^ ^Q dadi^. 

Bus, My lord, 285 


I loathe as much a deed of nnjust death, 

As law itself doth ; and to tyraimize, 

Because I have a little spirit to dare 

And power to do, as to be tyranniz'd. 

This ia a grace that (on my knees redoubled), 190 

I crave, to double this my short life's gift. 

And shall your royal bounty centuple, 

That I may so make good what God and Nature 

Have given me for my good ; since I am free, 

(OfEending 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 fails to right me. 

Let me be king myself (as man was made). 

And do a justice liiat exceeds the law ; 

If my wrong pass the power of single valour 200 

To right and expiate ; then be you my king. 

And do a right, exceeding law and nature : 

Who to himself is law, no law doth need, 

OfEends no law, and is a king indeed. 

Hen, Enjoy what thou entreat'st ; we give but ours. 205 

Bus. What you have given, my lord, is ever yours. 
Exit Rex cum Beau[mond, Attendants, Nuntius and 

Guise. Mort Dieu, who would have pardon'd such a 
murther ? Exit 

MoHs. Now vanish horrors into Court attractions 
For which let this balm make thee fresh and fair. 
And now forth with thy service to the Duchess, 210 

As my long love wiU to Montsuny's Countess. Exit 

Bus. To whom my love hath long been vow'd in heart. 
Although in hand for shew I held the Duchess. 
And now through blood and vengeance, deeds of height. 
And hard to be achiev'd, 'tis fit I make 215 

Attempt of her perfection ; I need fear 
No check in his rivality, since her virtues 
Are so renown'd, and he of all dames hated. Exit 


A Room in Montsurry's House] 

Enter Monsieur, Tam3n:a and Peto with a book 

Mons. Pray thee regard thine own good» if not mine* 
And cheer my love for that : you do not know 


What you may be by me, nor what without me ; 
I may have power t'advance and pull down any. 

Tarn. That's not my study; one way I am sure 5 

Yon shall not pull down me ; my husband's height 
Is crown to all my hopes ; and his retiring 
To any mean state, shaU be my aspiring: 
Mine honour's in mine own hands, spite of kings. 

Mons, Honour, what's that ? Your second maidenhead : xo 
And what is that ? A word : the word is gone. 
The thing remains : the rose is pluck'd, the stalk 
Abides ; an easy loss where no lack's fotmd : 
Believe it, there's as small lack in the loss 
As there is pain i'th' losing; archen ever 15 

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. 

Tarn. Wise wives they are that on such strings depend, 20 
With a firm husband joining a loose friend. 

Mons, Still you stand on your husband ; so do all 
The common sex of you, when y'are encounter'd 
With one ye cannot fancy : all men know 
Yon Hve in Court, here, by your own election, 25 

Frequenting all our common sports and triumphs. 
All the most youthful company of men : 
And wherefore do you this ? To please your husband ? 
'Tis gross and fulsome : if your husband's pleasure 
Be all your object, and you aim at honour 30 

In living close to him, get you from Court; 
Yon may have him at home ; these common put-ofFs 
For common women serve : ' My honour I Husband 1 ' 
Dames maritorious ne'er were meritorious : 
Speak plain, and say ' I do not like you, sir ; 35 

Y'are an ill-favour'd fellow in my eye ' ; 
And I am answer'd. 

Tarn. Then, I pray, be answer'd : 

For, in good faith, my lord, I do not like you 
In that sort you like. 

Mons. Then have at you here I 

Take (with a politic hand) this rope of pearl, 40 

And though you be not amorous, yet be wise : 
Take me for wisdom ; he that you can love 
Is ne'er the further from you. 


Tarn, Now it comes 

So ill prepar'd, that I may take a poison 
Under a medicine as good cheap as it ; 45 

I will not have it were it worth the world. 

Mons. Horror of death 1 Could I but please your eye. 
You would give me the like, ere you would loose me : 
' Honour and husband ! ' 

Tarn, By this light, my lord, 

Y'are a vile fellow, and I'll tell the King 50 

Your occupation of dishonouring ladies, 
And of his Court : a lady cannot live 
As she was bom, and with that sort of pleasure 
That fits her state, but she must be defam'd 
With an infamous lord's detraction : 55 

Who would endure the Court if these attempts 
Of open and profess'd lust must be borne ? — 
Who's there ? [To Pero] Come on, dame, you are at your 

When men are at your mistress ; have I taught you 
Any such waiting-wonuaii's quality ? 60 

Mons. Farewell, ' good husband 1 ' 

Exit Monsieur 

Tom, Farewell, wicked lord 1 

Enter Montsurry 

Mont. Was not the Monsieur here ? 

Tarn. Yes, to good purpose ; 

And your cause is as good to seek him too, 
And haunt his company. 

Mont. Why, what's the matter ? 

Tarn. Matter of death, were I some husbands' wife : 65 
I cannot live at quiet in my chamber 
For opportunities almost to rapes 
Offer'd me by him. 

Mont. Pray thee bear with him : 

Thou know'st he is a bachelor and a courtier. 
Ay, and a prince ; and their prerogatives 70 

Are to their laws, as to their pardons are 
Their reservations, after Parliaments — 
One quits another : form gives all their eaaeoce : 
That prince doth high in virtue's reckoning stand 
That will entreat a vice, and not conunand : 75 

So far bear witii him ; should another man 



Trust to his privilege, he should trust to death : 

Take comfort, then, my comfort, nay, triumph 

And crown thyself ; thou part'st with victory : 

My presence is so only dear to thee 80 

That other men's appear worse than they be. 

For this night yet, bear with my forced absence : 

Thou know'st my business; and with how much weight 

My vow hath charg'd it. 

Tom, True, my lord, and never 

My fruitless love shall let your serious honour ; S^ 

Yet, sweet lord, do not stay ; you know my soul 
Is so long time without me, and I dead. 
As you are absent. 

Mont. By this kiss, receive 

My soul for hostage, till I see my love. 

Tarn. The mom shall let me see you ? 90 

Mont. With the sun 

I'll visit thy more comfortable beauties. 

Tom. This is my comfort, that the sun hath left 
The whole world's beauty ere my sun leaves me. 

M(»U. 'Tis late night now, indeed ; farewell, my light 1 


Tarn, Farewell, my light and life I But not in him, 95 
In mine own dark love and light bent to another. 
Alas, that in the wane of our affections 
We should supply it with a full dissembling, 
In iidiich each youngest maid is grown a mother. 
Frailty is fruitful, one sin gets another: xoo 

Our loves like sparkles are, that brightest shine 
When they go out ; most vice shows most divine. 
[To Pero] Go, maid, to bed ; lend me your book, I pray : 
Not, like yourself, for fonn ; I'll this night trouble 
None of your services : make sure the doors, 105 

And call your other fellows to their rest. 

Pero, 1 will. [Aside.] Yet I will watch to know why you 
watch. EfHi 

Tom. Now all ye peaceful regents of the night, 
Silently-gliding exhalations. 

Languishing winds, and murmuring falls of waters, no 

Sadness of heart axul ominous secureness. 
Enchantments, dead sleeps, all the friends of rest. 
That ever wrought upon the life ,of man. 


Extend your utmost strengths, and this charm'd hour 

Fix like the Centre 1 Make the violent wheels 1 15 

Of Time and Fortune stand, and great Existence 

(The Maker's treasury) now not seem to be, 

To all but my approaching friends and me 1 

They come, alas, they come ! Fear, fear and hope. 

Of one thing, at one instant, fight in me : 120 

I love what most I loathe, and cannot live. 

Unless I compass that which holds my death : 

For life's mere death, loving one that loathes me. 

And he I love, will loathe me, when he sees 

I fly my sex, my virtue, my renown, 125 

To run so madly on a man unknown. The vault opens 

See, see, a vault is opening that was never 

Known to my lord and husband, nor to any 

But him that brings the^ man I love, and me. 

How shall I look on him ? How shall I live, 130 

And not consume in blushes ? I wiU in. 

And cast m3rself off, as I ne'er had been. 


Ascendit Friar and D'Ambois 

Friar. Come, worthiest son, I am past measure glad. 
That you (whose worth I have approved so long) 
Should be the object of her fearful love ; 135 

Since both your wit and spirit can adapt 
Their full force to supply her utmost weakness : 
You know her worths and virtues, for report 
Of aU that know is to a man a knowledge : 
You know, besides, that our affections' storm, 140 

Rais'd in our blood, no reason can reform. 
Though she seek then their satisfaction 
(Which she must needs, or rest unsatisfied) 
Your judgment will esteem her peace thus wrought, 
Nothing less dear than if yourself had sought : X45 

And (with another colour, which my art 
Shall teach you to lay Km) yourself must seem 
The only agent, and the first orb move 
In this our set and cunning world of love. 

Bus. Give me the colour, my most honour'd father, 150 
And trust my cunning then to lay it on. 

Friar. 'Tis this, good son; Lord Barrlsor (whom yon 

Sc. 2] BUSSY D' AM60IS 27 

Did love her deaily, and with all fit means 

Hath uig'd his acceptation, of all which 

She keeps one letter written in his blood : 155 

Yon must say thus, then, that you heard from me 

How much hersell was touch'd in conscience 

With a report (which is, in tmtii, dispersed) 

That yoor main quarrel grew about her love, 

Lord Barrisor imagining your courtship x6o 

Of the great Guise's Duchess in the presence. 

Was by you made to his elected mistress : 

And so made me your mean now to resolve her. 

Choosing (by my direction) this nighf s depth 

For the more dear avoiding of ail note 165 

Of your presumed presence ; and witii this 

(To clear her hands of such a lover's blood) 

She will so kindly thank and entertain you, 

(Methinks I see how), ay, and ten to one. 

Show you the confinnation in his blood, 170 

Lest 3rou should think report and she did feign» 

That you shall so have circumstantial means 

To come to the direct, which must be used ; i< 

For the direct is crooked ; love comes flying ; 

The height of love is still won with dett3ring. 175 

Bus. Thanks, honour'd father. 

Friar. She must never know 

That you know anything of any love 
Sustain'd on her part : for, learn this of me. 
In anything a woman does alone, 

If she dissemble, she thinks 'tis not done ; 180 

If not dissemble, nor a little chide. 
Give her her wish, she is not satisfied ; 
To have a man think that she never seeks, 
Does her more good than to have all she likes : 
This fraflty sticks in them beyond their sex, 185 

V^hich to reform, reason is too perplex : 
Urge reason to them, it will do no good ; 
Humour (that is the chariot of our food 
In everybody) must in them be fed. 

To carry their afiections by it bred. 190 

Stand close 1 [Th^y r^rs] 

Enter Tamyra with a book 
Torn. Alas, I lear my Itrangeness will retire him. 


II he go back, I die ; I must prevent it» 

And cheer his onset with my sight. at least. 

And that's the most ; though every step he takes 195 

Goes to my heart, I'll rather die than seem 

Not to be strange to that I most esteem. 

Fria/r [advancing]. Madam I 

Tarn, Ah I 

Friar. You will pardon me, I hope. 

That so beyond your expectation. 

And at a time for visitemts so unfit, 200 

I (with my noble friend here) visit you : 
You know that my access at any time 
Hath ever been admitted ; and that friend 
That my care will presume to bring with me 
Shall have all circumstance of worth in him 105 

To merit as free wefeome as myself. 

Tarn. Oh, father, but at this suspicious hour 
You know how apt best men are to suspect us. 
In any cause, that makes suspicious shadow 
No greater than the shadow of a hair : 2x0 

And y'are to blame. What though my lord and husband 
Lie forth to-night, and since I cannot sleep • • 
When he is absent I sit up to-night ; 
Though aU the doors are sure, and aU our servants 
As sure bound with their sleeps ; yet there is One 215 

That wakes above, whose eye no sleep can bind ; 
He sees through doors, and darkness, and our thoughts ; 
And therefore as we should avoid with fear. 
To think amiss ourselves before his search ; 
So should we be as curious to shun 220 

All cause that other think not ill of us. 

Bus. [advancing] Madam, 'tis far from that ; I only heard 
By this my honour'd father that your conscience 
Made some deep scruple with a false report 
That Barrisor's blood should something touch your honour ; 225 
Since he imaqgin'd I was courting you. 
When I was bold to change wcutls with the Dachess, 
And therefore made his quarrel, .his long love 
And service, as I hear, being deeply vow'd 
To your perfections ; which my ready presence, 230 

Presum'd on with my father at this season 
For the more care of your sd curious honour, ^. 

Can well resolve your conscience is. most (alsp. 


Tom. And is it therefore that yon come, good 8ir ? 
Then crave I now your pardon and my father's, 235 

And swear your presence does me so much good, 
That all I have it binds to your requital : 
Indeed, sir, 'tis most tme that a report 
Is spread, alleging that his love to me 

Was reason of your qnarrel ; and because 240 

You shall not think I feign it for my glory 
That he importun'd me for his court service, 
I'll show you his own hand, set down in blood. 
To that vain purpose : good sir, then come in. 
Father, I thank yon now a thousand fold. 245 

Exit Tamyra and D^Ambois 

Fricnr. May it be worth it to you, honour'd daughter. 

Descendit Friar 



[A Room in Montsurry's House] 
Enter D'Ambois, Tam3n:a, with a Chain of Pearl 

Bus. Sweet mistress, cease, your conscience is too nice. 
And Intes too hotly of the Puritan spice. 

Tarn. Oh my dear servant, in thy close embraces 
I have set open all the doors of danger 
To my encompass'd honour, and my life : 5 

Before I was secure against death and hell ; 
But now am subject to the heartless fear 
Of every shadow, and of every breath. 
And would change firmness with an aspen leaf : 
So confident a spotless conscience is, 10 

So weak a guilty : oh, the dangerous siege 
Sin lays about us, and the tyranny 
He exercises when he hath expugn'd I 
Like to the horror of a winter's thunder, 
Mix'd with a gushing storm, that suffer nothing 13 

To stir abroad on earth but their own rages. 
Is Sin, when it hath gather'd head above us : 
No roof, no shelter can secure us so. 
But he will drown our cheeks in fear or woe. 

Bus. Sin is a coward, madam, and insults 20 

But on our weakness, in his truest valour : 


And 8o our ignorance tames na, that we let 

His shadows fright ns : and like empty clouds. 

In which our faulty 24>prehension8 forge 

The forms of dragons, lions, elephants, 25 

When they hold no proportion, the sly charms 

Of the witch Policy makes him like a monster 

Kept only to show men for servile money : 

That false hag often paints him in her cloth 

Ten times more monstrous than he is in troth : 30 

In three of us the secret of our meeting 

Is only guarded, and three friends as one 

Have ever been esteem'd : as our three powers 

That in one soul are as one united : 

Why should we fear then ? For myself, I swear, 35 

Sooner shall torture be the sire to pleasure, 

And health be grievous to one long time sick. 

Than the dear jewel of your fame in me 

Be made an outcast to your infamy ; 

Nor shall my value (sacred to your virtues) 40 

Only give free course to it, from myself : 

But make it fly out of the mouths of kings 

In golden vapours and with awful wings. 

Tarn, It rests as all kings' seals were set in thee. 
Now let us call my father, whom I swear 45 

I could extremely chide, but that I fear 
To make him so suspicious of my love 
Of which, sweet servant, do not let him know 
For all the world. 

Bus, Alas, he will not think it I 

Tarn, Come, then. — ^Ho 1 Father, ope, and take your 
friend. Ascendii Friar 50 

Friar, Now, honour'd daughter, is your doubt resolv'd ? 

Tarn, Ay, father, but yon went away too soon. 

Friar. Too soon ? 

Tarn, Indeed you did, you should have stay'd ; 

Had not your worthy friend been of your bringing. 
And that contains all laws to temper me, 55 

Not all the fearful danger that besieg'd us, 
Had aw'd my throat from exclamation. 

Friar. I know your serious disposition well. 
Come, son, the mom comes on. 

Bus. Now, honour'd mistress. 

Till farther service call, all bliss supply you I 60 


Tarn. And yon this chain of pearl, and my love only I 

Descsndit Friar and D'Ambois 
It is not I, but urgent destiny. 
That (as great statesmen for their general end 
In politic justice, make poor men offend) 
Enforceth my ofience to make it just. 65 

What shall weak dames do, when th' whole work of nature 
Hath a strong finger in each one of us ? 
Needs must that sweep away the silly cobweb 
Of our stiO-undone labours, that lajrs still 
Our powers to it : as to the line, the stone, 70 

Not to the stone, the line should be opposed. 
We cannot keep our constant course in virtue : 
What is alike at aU parts ? Every day 
Differs from other : every hour and minute ; 
Ay, every thought in our false clock of life, 75 

Oft-times Inverts the whole circumference : 
We must be sometimes one, sometimes another : 
Our bodies are but thick clouds to our souls, 
Through which they cannot shine when they desire : 
When all the stars, and even the sim himself, 80 

Must stay the vapours' times that he exhales 
Before he can make good his beams to us : 
O, how can we, that are but motes to him. 
Wandering at random in his order'd rays. 
Disperse our passions' fumes, with our weak labours, 85 

That are more thick and black than all earth's vapours ? 

Enter Montsurry I 

Moni. Good day, my love 1 What, up and ready too 1 

Tom. Both, my dear lord ; not all this night made I 
Myself unready, or could sleep a wink. 

Mont. Alas, what troubled my true love, my peace, 90 
From being at peace within her better self ? 
Or how could sleep forbear to seize thine eyes, 
When he might challenge them as his just prize ? 

Tom. I am in no power earthly, but in yours ; 
To what end should I go to bed, my lord, 90 

That wholly miss'd the comfort of my bed ? 
Or how should sleep possess my faculties. 
Wanting the proper closer of mine eyes ? 

Mont. Then will I never more sleep night from thee : 
All mine own business, all the King's affairs, 200 


Shall take the day to serve them ; every night 
I'll ever dedicate to thy delight. 

Tarn. Nay, good my lord, esteem not my desires 
Such doters on their humours that my judgment 
Cannot subdue them to your worthier pleasure : 105 

A wife's pleas'd husband must her object be 
In all her acts, not her soothed fantasy. 

Moni, Then come, my love, now pay those rites to sleep 
Thy fair eyes owe him ; shall we now to bed ? 

Tarn, Oh, no, my lord; your holy friar says no 

All couplings in the day that touch the bed 
Adulterous are, even in the married ; 
Whose grave and worthy doctrine, well I know. 
Your faith in him wUl liberally allow. 

Mont, He's a most learned and religious man ; 115 

Come to the presence then, and see great D'Ambois 
(Fortune's proud mushroom shot up in a night) 
Stand like an Atlas under our King's arm ; 
Which greatness with him Monsieur now envies 
As bitterly and deadly as the Guise. 120 

Tarn, What I He that was but yesterday his maker, 
His raiser, and preserver ? 

Mont, Even the same. 

Each natural agent works but to this end, 
To render that it works on like itself; 

Which since the Monsieur in his act on D'Ambois 125 

Cannot to his ambitious end effect. 
But that, quite opposite, the King hath power. 
In his love borne to D'Ambois, to convert 
The point of Monsieur's aim on his own breast. 
He turns his outward love to inward hate : 130 

A prince's love is like the lightning's fume, 
Which no man can embrace but must consume. 


A Room in the Court] 

Henry, D'Ambois, Monsieur, Guise, Duchess, Annable^ 

Charlotte, Attendants. 

Hen. Speak home. Bussy I Thy impartial words 
Are like brave falcons that dare truss a fowl 


Much greater than themselves ; flatterers are kites 

That check at sparrows ; thou sfaalt be my eagle, 

And bear my thunder underneath thy wings ; 5 

Truth's words, like jewels, hang in th' ean of kings. 

Bus. Would I might live to see no Jews hang there 
Instead of jewels — sycophants, I mean. 
Who use Truth like the Devil, his true foe. 
Cast by the angel to the pit of feaxs, lO 

And bound in chains ; Truth seldom decks kings' ean. 
Slave Flattery (like a rippier's legs roU'd up 
In boots of hay-ropes) with kings' soothed guts 
Swaddled and strappled, now lives only free. 
O, 'tis a subtle knave ; how like the plague 15 

Unfelt he strikes into the brain of man, 
And rageih in his entrails when he can. 
Worse than the poison of a red-hair'd man. ' 

i^Hgn. Fly at him and his brood 1 I cast tibee off. 
And once more give thee surname of mine eagle. 20 

Bus. I'U make you sport enough, then : let me have 
My lucems too, or dogs inur'd to hunt 
Beasts of most rapine, but to put them up. 
And if I truss not, let me not be trusted. 
Show me a great man (by the people's voice, 25 

Which is the voice of God) tiiat by his greatness 
Bombasts his private roofs with public riches ; 
That affects royalty, rising from a clapdish ; 
That rules so much more by his suffering Idng, 
That he makes kings of his subordinate slaves : 30 

Himself 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 own counsel keeping) 35 

Keep all upright — ^let me but hawk at him, 
I'U play the vulture, and so thump his liver. 
That, like a huge unlading Ai;gosy, 
He shall confess all, and you then may hang him. 
Show me a clergyman, that is in voice 40 

A lark of heaven, in heart a mole of earth ; 
That hath good living, and a wicked life ; 
A temperate look, and a luxurious gut. 
Turning the rent of his superfluous cures 
Into your pheasants and your partridges, 45 

OD.W. D 


Venting their quintessence as men read Hebrew — 

Let me but hawk at him, and, like the other. 

He shall confess all, and you then may hang him. 

Show me a lawyer that turns sacred law 

(The equal rend'rer of each man his own, 50 

The scourge of rapine and eictortion. 

The sanctuary and impregnable defence 

Of retired learning and besieged virtue) 

Into a harpy, that eats all but's own. 

Into the damned sins it punisheth ; 55 

Into the S3magogue of thieves and atheists, 

Blood into gold, and justice into lu&t — 

Let me but hawk at him, as at the rest. 

He shaU confess all, and you then may hang him. 

Enter Montsurry, Tamyra, and Pero 

Guise, Where will you find such game as you would hawk 
at? 60 

Bus, I'll hawk about your house for one of them. 

Guise, Come, y'are a glorious ruffian^ and run proud 
Of the King's headlong graces ; hold your breath. 
Or, by that poison'd vapour, not the King 
Shall back your murtherous valour against me. 65 

Bus. 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 soul sits and braves thy sovereign. yo 

Mons, Peace, peace, I pray thee peace. 

Bus, Let him peace first 

That made the first war. 

Mons. He's the better man. 

Bus. And, therefore, may do worst ? 

Mons. He has more titles. 

Bus. So Hydra had more heads. 

Mons. He's greater known. 

Bus. His greatness is the people's ; mine's mine own. 75 

Mons. He's nobl[ier] bom. 

Bus. He is not; I am noble. 

And noblesse in his blood hath no gradation. 
But in his merit. 

Guise. Th'art not nobly bom. 

But bastard to the Cardinal of Ambois. 


Bus, Thou liest, proud Guisard ; let me fly, my lord. 80 

Hen. Not in my face, my eagle ; violence flies 
The sanctuaries of a prince's eyes. 

Bus, Still shall we chide and foam upon this bit ? 
Is the Guise only great in faction ? 

Stands he not by himself ? Proves he th' opinion 83 

That men's souls are without them ? Be a duke. 
And lead me to the field. 

Guise. Come, follow me. 

Hen. Stay them ! Stay, D'Ambois 1 Cousin Guise, I 
Your honour'd disposition brooks so ill 

A man so good, that only would uphold 90 

Man in his native noblesse, from whose faU 
All our dissensions rise ; that in himself , ^ 

(Without the outward patches of our frailty, . ^ ^ 

Riches and honour) knows he comprehends 
Worth with the greatest : kings had never borne 95 

Such boundless empire over other men, 
Had all maintain'd the spirit and state of D'Ambois ; 
Nor had the full impartial hand of Nature 
That all things gave in her original. 

Without these definite terms of Mine and Thine, 100 

Been tum'd unjustly to the hand of Fortune, 
Had all preserved her in her prime, like D'Ambois; 
No envy, no disjunction had dissolved, 
Or pluck'd one stick out of the golden faggot 
In which the world of Saturn bound our lives, X05 

Had all been held together with the nerves. 
The genius, and th' ingenuous soul 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. no 

Bus. 'Tis our King's motion, and we shall not seem 
To worst eyes womanish, though we change thus Boon 
Never so great grudge for his greater pleasure. 
, Guise. I seal to that, and so the manly freedom. 
That you so much profess, hereafter prove not X15 

A bold and glorious licence to deprave. 
To me his hand shall hold the Hermean virtue 
His grace affects, in which submissive sign 
On this his sacred right hand, I lay mine. 

Bus, 'Tis well, my lord, and so your worthy greatness lao 



Decline not to the greater insolence. 

Nor make yon think it a prerogative, 

To rack men's freedoms with the ruder wrongs. 

My hand (stuck full of laurel, in true sign 

'Tis wholly dedicate to righteous peace) 125 

In all submission kisseth th' other side. 

Hen. Thanks to ye both ; and kindly I invite ye 
Both to a banquet, where we'll sacrifice 
Full cups to confirmation of your loves ; 

At which, fair ladies, I entreat your presence ; 130 

And hope you, madam [to the Duchess], will take one carouse 
For reconcilement of your lord and servant. 

Duch. If I should fail, my lord, some other lady 
Would be found there to do that for my servant. 

Mons. Any of these here ? 

Duch, Nay, I know not that. 135 

Bus, [To Tamyra] Think your thoughts like my mis- 
tress, honour'd lady ? 

Tarn, I think not on you, sir; y'are one I know not. 

Bus, Cry you mercy, madam 1 

Mont, Oh, sir, has she met yon ? 

Exeunt Henry, D'Ambois, [and] Ladies. 

Mons, What had my bounty drunk when it rais'd him ? 

Guise. Y'ave stuck us up a very worthy flag, 140 

That takes more wind than we with all our sails. 

Mons, Oh, so he spreads and flourishes. 

Guise. He must down. 

Upstarts should never perch too near a crown. 

Mons. 'Tis true, my lord ; and as this doting hand. 
Even out of earth, like Juno, struck this giant, 145 

So Jovefs great ordinance shall be here implied 
To strike Mm under th' Etna of his pride : 
To which work lend your hands, and let us cast 
Where we may set snares for his ranging greatness : 
I think it best, amongst our greatest women : 150 

For there is no such trap to catch an upstart 
As a loose downfall ; for, you know, their falls 
Are th' ends of all men's rising : if great men 
And wise make scapes to please advantage[s] 
'Tis with a woman : women, that worst may, 155 

Still hold men's candles : they direct and know 
All things amiss in all men, and their women 
All things amiss in them ; through whose charm'd mouths, 


We may see all the close scapes of the Court. 

When "the most royal beast of chase, the hart, z6o 

Being old, and cunning in his lairs and haunts. 

Can never be discover'd to the bow. 

The piece, or hound, yet where, behind some queach. 

He breaks his gall, and rutteth with his hind, 

The place is mark'd, and by his venery 165 

He still is taken. Shall we then attempt 

The chiefest mean to that discovery here, 

And court our greatest ladies' chiefest women 

With shows of love and liberal promises ? 

'Tis but our breath. If something given in hand 170 

Sharpen their hopes of more, 'twill be well ventur'd. 

Guise, No doubt of that ; and 'tis the cunning'st point 
Of oar devis'd investigation. 

Mons. I have broken 
The ice to it already with the woman 175 

Of your chaste lady, and conceive good hope 
I shall wade thorough to some wished shore 
At our next meeting. 

Mont. Nay, there's small hope there. 

Guise. Take say of her, my lord, she comes most fitly. 

Enter Charlotte, Annable, Pero 

Mons. Starting back ? 180 

Guise. Y'are engaged, indeed. 

Anna. Nay, pray, my lord, forbear. 

McnU. What, skittish, servant ? 

AnnOn No, my lord, I am not so fit for your service. 

Ch€iir. Ftay pardon me now, my lord ; my lady expects 
me. 185 

Guise. I'll satisfy her expectation, as far as an uncle may. 

Mons. Well said, a spirit of courtship of all hands 1 
Now, mine own Pero, hast thou remembered me for the dis- 
covery I entreated thee to make of thy mistress ? Speak 
boldly, and be sure of all things I have sworn to thee. 190 

Pero. Building on that assurance, my lord, I may ^peak 
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 

Mons. That's all one, so we reach our objects ; forth, I 195 
beseech thoou 


Pero. To tell you truth, my lord, I have made a strange 

Mons, Excellent ! Pero, thou reviv'st me ; may I sink 
quick to perdition if my tongue discover it. ' 200 

Pero. 'Tis thus, then : this last night, my lord lay forth, 
and I, watching my lady's sitting up, stole up at midnight 
from my pallet, and (having before made a hole both through 
the waU and arras to her inmost chamber) I saw D'Ambois 
and herself reading a letter. 205 

Mons, D'Ambois ? 

Pero. Even he, my lord. 

Mans. Dost thou not dream, wench ? 

Pero. I swear he is the man. 

Mons. [Aside] The devil he is, and thy lady his daml 210 
Why, this was the happiest shot that ever flew ; the just 
plague of hypocrisy levelled it. Oh, the infinite regions 
betwixt a woman's tongue and her heart 1 Is this our Goddess 
of chastity ? I thought I could not be so slighted, if she had 
not her fraught besides, and therefore plotted this with her 215 
woman, never dreaming of D'Ambois. — Dear Pero, I will 
advance thee for ever ; but tell me now — God's precious, it 
transforms me with admiration — sweet Pero, whom should she 
trust with this conveyance ? Or, all the doors being made 
sure, how should his conveyance be made ? 220 

Pero. Nay, my lord, that amazes me ; I cannot by any 
study so much as guess at it. s\ 

Mons. Well, let's favour our apprehensions with forbear- 
ing that a little ; for, if my heart were not hooped with ada- 
mant, the conceit of this would have burst it. But hark 225 
thee. Whispers [to Pero.] 

Mont I pray thee, resolve me : the Duke will never 
imagine that I am busy about's wife : hath D'Ambois any 
privy access to her ? 

Anna. No, my lord ; D'Ambois n^lects her, as she takes 230 
it, and is therefore suspicious that either your lady, or the 
Lady Beaupr6, hatii closely entertained him. 

Mont. By'r lady, a likely suspicion, and very near the 
life, — especially of my wife. 

Mons. [Aside to Pero] Come, we'll disguise all with 235 
seeming only to have courted. — Away, dry palm ! Sh'as a 
liver as hard as a biscuit ; a man may go a whole voyage with 
her, and get nothing but tempests from her wind-pipe. 

Guise. Here's one, I think, has swallowed a porcupine, 
she casts pricks from her tongue so. 240 


Mont, And here's a peacock seems to have devoured one 
of the Alps, she has so sweUing a spirit, and is so cold of her 

Char. We are no windfalls, my lord ; ye must gather 
as with the ladder of matrimony, or we'll hang till we be 245 

Mans. Indeed, thaf s the way to make ye right open-arses. 
But, alas, ye have no portions fit for such husbands as we 
wish yon. 

P&ro, Portions, my lord ? yes, and sach portions as yonr 250 
principality cannot purchase. 

Mans. What, woman I what are those portions ? 

P9ra. Riddle my riddle, my lord. 

Mans. Ay, marry, wench, I think thy portion is a right 
riddle ; a man shall never find it out. But let's hear it. 255 

Pera. You shall, my lord. 

Whafs that, that being most rare's most cheap ? 

That when you saw, you never reap? 

That when it grows most, most you in it; 

And still you lose it when you win it? 260 

That when 'tis commonest, *tis dearest. 

And when *Hs farthest aff, 'tis nearest^ 

Mans. Is this your great portion ? 

Pera. Even this, my lord. 

Mans. Believe me, I cannot riddle it. 265 

Pera. No, my lord : 'tis my chastity, which you shall 
neither riddle nor fiddle. 

Mans. Your chastity ? Let me begin with the end of it ; 
how is a woman's chastity nearest a man when 'tis furthest 
oflE? 270 

Pera. Why, my lord, when you cannot get it, it goes to th' 
heart on you ; and that, I think, comes most near you : and 
I am sure it shall be far enough ofi ; and so we leave you 
to our mercies. Exeunt Women 

Mans. Farewell, riddle I 275 

Guise. Farewell, medlar t 

Mont. Farewell, winter plum I 

Mans. Now, my lords, what fruit of our inquisition ? 
Feel you nothing budding yet ? Speak, good my lord 
Montsurry. 280 

Mont. Nothing but this : D' Ambois is thought negligent in 


observing the Duchess, and therefore she is suspicious that 
your niece or my wife closely entertains hixn. 

Mons. Your wife, my lord ? Think you that possible ? 

Mont. Alas, I know she flies him like her last hour. 285 

Mans, Her last hour ? Why, that comes upcm her the 
more she flies it. Does D'Ambois so, think you ? 

Mont. That's not worth the answering. 'Tis miraculous 
to think with what monsters women's imaginations engross 
them when they are once enamoured, and what wonders they 290 
will work for their satisfaction. They will make a sheep 
valiant, a lion fearful. 

Mons. And an ass confident. Well, my lord, more will 
come forth shortly ; get you to the banquet. 

Guise. Come, my lord ; I have the blind side of one of 295 
them. Exit Guise cum Montsurry 

Mons, O the unsounded sea of women's bloods. 
That when 'tis calmest, is most dangerous ! 
Not any wrinkle creaming in their faces. 

When in their hearts are Scylla and Charybdis, 300 

Which still are hid in dark and standuig fogs. 
Where never day shines, nothing ever grows. 
But weeds and poisons that no statesman knows 2 
Not Cerberus ever saw the damned nooks 
Hid with the veils of women's virtuous looks. 305 

But what a doud of sulphur have I drawn 
Up to my bosom in this dangerous secret ! 
Which if my haste with any spark should light 
Ere D'Ambois were engag'd in some sure plot, 
I were blown up ; he would be, sure, my death. 310 

Would I had never known it, for before 
I shall persuade th' importance to Montsurry, 
And nu^e 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 315 

\^^th the fdl tiger, up in daikness tied. 
And give it some light) make it quite break loose. 
I fear it afore heaven, and will not see 
D'Ambois again, till I have told Montsurry, 
And set a snare with him to free my fears. 320 

Who's there ? 

Enter MaM 

Maf, My lord ? 

Mans. Go call the Count Montsurry, 


And make the doozs fast ; I will speak with none 
Till he come to me. 

Maf. Well, my lord. Ejaturus 

Mans. Or else 

Send you some other, and see all the doors 
Made safe yomself, I pray ; haste, fly about it. 325 

Maf. You'll speak with none but with the Count Mont* 
suny ? 

Mons. With none but he, except it be the Guise. 

Maf. See, even by this there's one exception more ; 
Your Grace must be more firm in the command. 
Or else shall I as weakly execute. 330 

The Guise shall speak with you ? 

Mons, He shall, I say. 

Maf. And Count Montsuny ? 

Mons. Ay, and Count Montsuny. 

Maf. Your Grace must pardon me, that I am bold 
To urge the clear and full sense of your pleasure ; 
Which whensoever I have known, I hope 335 

Your Grace will say I hit it to a hair. 

Mons. You have. 

Maf. I hope so, or I would be glad — 

Mans. I pray thee get thee gone ; thou art so tedious 
In the strict form of all thy services 

That I had better have one negligent. 340 

You hit my pleasure well, when D'Ambois hit you ; 
Did you not, think you ? 

Maf. D'Ambois ? Why, my lord — 

Mans. I pray thee talk no more, but shut the doors : 
Do what I charge thee. 

Maf. I will, my lord, and yet 

I would be glad the wrong I had of D'Ambois — 345 

Mans. Precious, then it is a fate that plagues me 
In this man's foolery! I may be murther'd 
While he stands on protection of his folly. 
Avaunt about thy charge 1 

Maf. I go, my lord. 

[Asids.] 1 had my head broke in his faithful service ; 350 

I had no suit the more, nor any thanks. 
And yet my teeth must still be hit with D'Ambois — 
IVAmbob, my lord, shall know — 

Mans. The devil and D'Ambois I 

EMit MafE6 


How am I tortur'd with this trusty fool ! 

Never was any curious in his place 355 

To do things justly, but he was an ass ; 

We cannot find one trusty that is witty. 

And therefore bear their disproportion. 

Grant, thou great star and angel of my life, 

A sure lease of it but for some few days, 360 

That I may dear my bosom of the snake 

I cherish' d there, and I will then defy 

All check to it but Nature's, and her altars 

Shall crack witii vessels crown'd with every liquor 

Drawn from her highest and most bloody humours. 365 

I fear 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. 

Enter Maff6 hastily 

Maf, I cannot help it : what should I do more ? 370 

As I was gathering a fit guard to make 
My passage to the doors, and the doors sure. 
The man of blood is enter'd. 

Mons. Rage of death ! 

If I had told the secret, and he knew it. 
Thus had I been endanger'd. 375 

Enter D'Ambois. 

My sweet heart 1 
How now, what leap'st thou at ? 

Bus, O royal object I 

Mons, Thou dream'st awake ; object in th' empty air ? 

Bus. Worthy the brows of Titan, worth his chair. 

Mons. Pray thee, what mean'st thou ? 

Bus. See you not a cxown 

Impale the forehead of the great King Monsieur ? 380 

Mons. Oh, fie upon thee 1 

Bus, Prince, that is the subject 

Of all these your retir'd and sole discourses. 

Mons. Wilt thou not leave that wrongful supposition ? 

Bus. Why wrongful to suppose the doubtless right 
To the succession worth the thinking on ? 385 

Mons. Well, leave these jests 1 How I am overjoy'd 
With thy wish'd presence, and how fit thou com'st. 
For, of mine honour, I was sending for thee. 


Bus. To what end ? 

Mons. Only for thy company, 

Which I have still in thought ; but that's no pa3anent 390 
On thy part made with personal appearance. 
Thy absence so long suffer'd oftentimes 
Pat me in some little doubt thou dost not love me. 
Wilt thou do one thing therefore now sincerely ? 

Bus. Ay, anything, but killing of the King. 395 

Mons. StiU in that discord, and ill-taken note ? 
How most unseasonable thou playest the cuckoo. 
In this thy fall of friendship I 

Bus, Then do not doubt. 

That there is any act within my nerves, 
But killing of the King, that is not yours« 400 

Mons. I will not, then ; to prove which by my love 
Shown to thy virtues, 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 freedom 405 

Both of thy noble nature and thy friendship) 
The full and plain state of me in thy thoughts. 

Bus. What, utter plainly what I think of you ? 

Mons. Plain as truth I 

Bus. Why, this swims quite against the stream ol 
greatness ; 410 

Great men would rather hear their flatteries. 
And if they be not made fools, are not wise. 

Mons. I am no such great fool, and therefore charge thee 
Even from the root of thy free heart display me. 

Bus. Since you aflect it in such serious terms, 415 

If yourself first will tell me what yon think 
As freely and as heartily of me, 
I'll be as open in my thoughts of you. 

Mons. A bargain, of mine honour I And make this. 
That prove we in our full dissection 420 

Never so foul, live still the sounder friends. 

Bus. What else, sir ? Come, pay me home ; I'll bide it 

Mons, I will, I swear. I think thee then a man 
That dares as much as a wild horse or tiger, 
As headstrong and as bloody ; and to feed 425 

The ravenous wolf of thy most cannibal valour, 
(Rather than not employ it) thou wouldst turn 

44 BUSSY D'AMBOIS [Act lit 

Hackster to any whore, slave to a Jew, 

Or English nsurer, to force possessions 

(And cut men's throats) of mortgaged estates ; 430 

Or thou wouldst tire thee like a tinker's strompet. 

And murther market-folks ; quarrel with sheep. 

And run as. mad as Ajax ; serve a butcher ; 

Do anything but killing of the King : 

That in thy valour th'art like other naturals 435 

That have strange gifts in nature, but no soul 

Diffus'd quite through, to make them of a piece. 

But stop at humours, that are more absurd. 

Childish, and villanous than that hackster, whore, 

Slave, cut-throat, tinker's bitch, compar 'd before ; 440 

And in those humours wouldst envy, betray. 

Slander, blaspheme, change each hour a religion. 

Do anjrthing, but killing of the King : 

That in thy valour (which is still the dunghill. 

To which hath reference all filth in thy house) 445 

Th'art more ridiculous and vain-glorious 

Than any mountebank, and impudent 

Than any painted bawd ; which not to soothe. 

And glorify thee like a Jupiter Hammon, 

Thou eat'st thy heart in vinegar, and thy gall 450 

Turns all thy blood to poison, which is cause 

Of that toad-pool that stands in thy complexion, 

And makes thee (with a cold and earthy moisture. 

Which is the dam of putrefaction. 

As plague to thy damn'd pride) rot as thou liv'st, 455 

To study calumnies and treacheries. 

To thy friends' slaughters like a screech-owl sing» 

And to all mischiefs, but to kill the King. 

Bus. So ! Have you said ? 

Mons. How think'st thou ? Do I flatter ? 

Speak I not like a trusty friend to thee ? 460 

Bus. That ever any man was blest withal ; 
So here's for me ! I think you are (at worst) 
No devil, since y'are like to be no king ; 
Of which, with any friend of 3rours, I'U lay 
This poor stiUado here, gainst all the stars, 465 

Ay, and gainst all your treacheries, which are more; 
That you did never good, but to do ill. 
But ill of all sorts, free and for itself: 
That (like a murthenng pieoe, making lanes in armies. 


The first man of a rank, the whole rank falling) 470 

If yon have wrong'd one man, you are so far 
From making him amends, that all his race. 
Friends, and associates fall into your chase : 
That y'are for perjuries the very prince 

Of all intelligencers ; and 3rour voice 475 

Is like an eastern wind, that, where it flies. 
Knits nets of caterpillars, with which yon catch 
The prime of all the fruits the kingdom yields 
That your political head is the curs'd fount 
Of all the violence, rapine, cruelty, 480 

Tyranny, and atheism flowing through the realm : 
That y'ave a tongue so scandalous, 'twill cut 
The purest crystal ; and a breath that will 
Kill to that wall a spider ; you will jest 
With God, and your soul to the Devil tender ; 485 

For lust kiss horror, and with death engender ; 
That your foul body is a Lemean fen 
Of all the maladies breeding in all men ; 
That you are utterly without a soul ; 

And, for your life, the thread of that was spun 490 

When Clotho slept, and let her breathing rock 
Fall in the dirt ; and Lachesis still draws it, 
Dipping her twisting fingers in a bowl 
Defil'd, and crown'd with virtue's forced soul : 
And lastly (which I must for gratitude 49$ 

Ever remember), that of all my height 
And dearest life you are the only spring. 
Only in royal hope to kill the King. 
MoHs. Why, now I see thou lovest me ; come to the ban- 
quet. Ex0unt 



[A Room in the Coutt] 

Heniy, Monsieur with a letter. Guise, Montsinry, Bussy, 
Elenor, Tamyra, Beaupr6. Pero, Charlotte, Annable, 
Pyra, with four Pages. 

Hen. Ladies, ye have not done our banquet nght, 
Nor look'd upon it with those cheerful rays 
That latdy tum'd your breaths to floods of gold ; 
Your looks, methinks, are not drawn out with thoughts 


So clear and free as heretofore, but foul, 5 

As if the thick complexions of men '.; 

Govem'd within them. 'Z'\ 

Bus. 'Tib not like, my lord. ^• 

That men in women rule, but contrary ; 
For as the moon (of all things God created) 
Not only is the most appropriate image ' 10 

Or glass to show them how they wax and wane, 
But in her height and motion likewise bears 
Imperial influences that conmiand 
In all their powers, and make them wax and wane ; 
So women, that (of all things made of nothing) 15 

Are the most perfect idols of the moon, 
(Or still-unwean'd sweet moon-calves with white faces) 
Not only are patterns of change to men. 
But, as the tender moonshine of their beauties 
Clears or is cloudy, make men glad or sad : 20 

So then they rule in men, not men in them. 

Mons. But here the moons are changed, (as the King notes) 
And either men rule in them, or some power 
Beyond their voluntary faculty, 
For nothing can recover their lost faces. 25 

Mont, None can be always one : our griefs and J03rs 
Hold several sceptres in us, and have times 
For their divided empires : which grief now in them 
Doth prove as proper to his diadem. 

Bus. And griefs a natural sickness of the blood, 30 

That time to part asks, as his coming had ; 
Only slight fools, griev'd, suddenly are glad ; 
A man may say t' a dead man, ' Be reviv'd,' 
As well as to one sorrowful, ' Be not griev'd.' 
And therefore, princely mistress, [To the Duchess] in all wars 35 
Against these base foes that insult on weakness, 
And still fight hous'd behind the shield of Nature, 
Of privilege, law, treachery, or beastly need. 
Your servant cannot help ; authority here 
Goes with corruption, something like some States 40 

That back worst men : valour to them must creep 
That, to themselves left, would fear him asleep. 

Duck. Ye all take that for granted that doth rest 
Yet to be prov'd ; we all are as we were, 
As merry and as free in thought as ever. 45 

Guise. And why then can ye not disclose your thoughta ?• 


Tarn. Methinks the man hath answer'd for us well. 

Mans. The man ? Why, madam, d'ye not know his name ? 

Tarn. Man is a name of honour for a king : 
Additions take away from each chief thing. 50 

The school of modesty not to learn learns dames : 
They sit in high forms there, that know men's names. 

Mons. [To Bnssy] Hark, sweetheart, here's a bar set to 
yoor valour ! 
It cannot enter here, no, not to notice 

Of what your name is ; your great eagle's beak 55 

(Should you fly at her) had as good encounter 
An Albion cliff, as her more craggy liver. 

Bus. I'll not attempt her, sir ; her sight and name 
(By which I only know her) doth deter me. 

Hen. So they do all men else. 

Mans. You would say so 60 

If you knew all. 

7am. Knew all, my lord ? What mean you ? 

Mons. All that I know, madam. 

Tom. That you know I Speak it. 

Mans. No, 'tis enough, I feel it. 

H&n. But, methinks 

Her coiuiahip is more pure than heretofore ; 
True courtiers should be modest, and not nice, 65 

Bold, but not impudent, pleasure love, not vice. 

Mons. Sweetheart, come hither ! What if one should make 
Horns at Montsurry ? Would it not strike him jealous 
Through all the proofs of his chaste lady's virtues ? 

Bus. If he be wise, not. 70 

Mons. What ? Not if I should name the gardener 
That I would have him think hath grafted him ? 

Bus. So the large licence that your greatness uses 
To jest at all men, may be taught indeed 
To make a difference of the grounds you play on, 75 

Both in the men you scandal, and the matter. 

Mans. As how ? As how ? 

Bus. Perhaps led with a train. 

Where you may have your nose made less and slit. 
Your eyes thrust out. 

Mans. Peace, peace, I pray thee peace. 

Who dares do that ? The brother of his King ? 80 

Bus. Were your King brother in you ; all your powers 
(Stietch'd in the arms of great men and their bawds). 


Set close down by you ; all your stoimy laws 

Spouted with lawyers' mouths, and gushing blood, 

Like to so many torrents; all your glories 85 

(Making you terrible, like enchanted flames) 

Fed with bare cockscombs and with crooked hams. 

All your prerogativeSp your sdiames and tortures; 

All daring heaven, and opening hell about you — 

Were I the man ye wrong'd so and provok'd, 90 

Though ne'er so much beneath you, like a box-tree 

I would, out of the roughness of my root, 

Ram hardness in my lowness and, like Death 

Mounted on earthquakes, I would trot through all 

Honours and horrors, thorough foul and fair, 95 

And from your whole strength toss you into the air. 

Mons. Go, th'art a devil I Such another ^irit 
Could not be still'd from all th' Armenian dragons. 

my love's glory, heir to all I have 

(That's all I can say, and that all I swear) 100 

If thou outlive me, as I know thou must. 

Or else hath Nature no proportion'd end 

To her great labours ; she hath breathed a mind 

Into thy entrails, of desert to swell 

Into another great Augustus Caesar, 105 

Oigans and faculties fitted to her greatness; 

And should that perish like a common spirit. 

Nature's a courtier and regards no merit. 

Hen. Here's nought but whispering with us ; like a calm 
Before a tempest, when the silent air no 

Lays her soft ear close to the earth to hearken 
For that she fears steals on to ravish her; 
Some fate doth join our ears to hear it coming. 
Come, my brave eagle, let's to covert fly ; 

1 see Almighty £ther in the smoke 115 
Of all his clouds descending, and the sky 

Hid in the dim ostents of tragedy. 

Exit Henry with D'Ambois and Ladies 
Guise [aside to Monsieur]. Now stir the humour, and 

begin the brawl. 
Mont, The King and D'Ambois now are grown all one. 
Mons [making horns at Montsurry]. Nay, they are two, 

my lord. 
MoHt, How's that ? 

Mons, No more. lao 


M<mt. I must have more, my lord. 

Afoffs. What, more than two ? 

Mont. How mooatrous is this ! 1 

MoHS. Why ? 

Mont. You make me horns I 

Mons. Not I, it is a work without my power ; 
Married men's ensigns are not made with fingers ; 
Of divine fabric they are, not men's hands ; 125 

Your wife, you know, is a mere Cjmthia. 
And she must fashion horns out of her nature. 

Mont. But doth she ? Dare you charge her ? Speak, false 

Mons, I must not speak, my lord ; but if you'll use 
The learning of a nobleman, and read, 130 

Here's something to those points ; soft, ytuM must pawn 
Your honour having read it to return it. 

Enter Tamyra, Pero. 

Mont. Not 1 1 I pawn mine honour for a paper ? ' 

Mons. You must not buy it under. 

Exeunt Guise and Monsieur 

Mont. Keep it then. 

And keep fire in your bosom. 

Tarn. What says he ? 135 

Mont. You must make good the rest. 

Tarn. How fares my lord ? 

Takes my love anything to heart he says ? 

Mont. Come y'are a — 

Tanu What, my lord ? 

Mont. The plague of Herod 

Feast in his rotten entrails. 

Tarn. Will you wreak 

Your anger's just cause given by liun, on me ? 140 

Mont. By him ? 

Tom. By him, my lord ; I have admir'd 

Yon could all this time be at concord with him, 
That still bath play'd such discords on your honour. 

Mont. Perhaps 'tis with some proud string of my wife's. 

Tarn. How's that, my lord ? 

Mont. Your tongue will still admire, 145 

mi my head be the miracle of the world. 

Tarn. O, woe is me I 

She seems to swound 



Pero. What does your lordship mean ? 

Madam, be comforted ; my lord but tries you. 
Madam ! Help, good my lord, are you not mov'd ? 
Do your set looks print in your words your thoughts ? 150 
Sweet lord, clear up those eyes, for shame of noblesse. 
Unbend that masking forehead ; whence is it 
You rush upon her with these Irish wars. 
More full of sound than hurt ? But it is enough. 
You have shot home, your words are in her heart ; 155 

She has not liv'd to bear a trial now. 

Mont, Look up, my love, and by this kiss receive 
My soul amongst thy spirits, for supply 
To thine chas'd with my fury. 

Tarn. Oh, my lord, 

I have too long liv'd to hear this from you. 160 

Mont 'Twas from my troubled blood, and not from me. 
[Aside] I know not how I fare ; a sudden night 
Flows through my entrails, and a headlong chaos 
Murmurs within me, which I must digest. 
And not drown her in my confusions, 165 

That was my life's joy, being best inform'd. — 
Sweet, you must needs forgive me, that my love 
(Like to a fire disdaining his suppression) 
Rag'd being discourag'd ; my whole heart is wounded 
When any least thought in you is but touch'd^ 170 

And shall be till I know your former merits. 
Your name and memory, altogether crave 
In just oblivion their eternal grave ; 
And then, 3rou must hear from me, there's no mean 
In any passion I shall feel for you ; 175 

Love is a razor cleansing, being well us'd> 
But fetcheth blood still, being the least abus'd ; 
To teU you briefly all — the man that left me 
When you appear'd, did turn me worse than woman. 
And stabb'd me to the heart thus [making Aoms], with his 

fingers. 180 

7am. Oh, happy woman \ Comes my stain from him ? 
It is my beauty, and that innocence proves 
That slew Ch3anaera, rescued Peleus 
From all the savage beasts in Pelion, 

And rais'd the chaste Athenian prince from hell: 185 

All suffering with me, they for women's lusts, 
I for a man's, that the Augean stable 


Of his foul sin wonM empty in my lap } 

How his guilt shunn'd me ! Sacred Imiocence, 

That where thoo fear'st art dteadiul, and his face 190 

Tmu'd in flight from thee, that had thee in chase ; 

Come» faring me to him ; I will teU the serpent 

Even to his venom'd teeth (from whose cuis'd seed 

A pitch'd field starts up 'twixt my lord and me) 

That his throat lies, and he shall curse his fingers, 195 

For faeing so govem'd fay his filthy soul. 

Mont. I know not if himself will vaunt t'have faeen 
The princely author of the slavish sin. 
Or any other ; he would have resolv'd me. 
Had you not come, not fay his word, faut writing, 200 

Would I have swoom to give it him again. 
And pawn'd mine honour to him for a paper. 

Tarn. See how he flies me still I Tis a foul heart 
That fears his own hand. Good, my lord, make haste 
To see the dangerous paper ; papers hold 305 

Oft-times the forms and copies of our souls. 
And, though the world despise them, sure the prizes 
Of an our honours ; make your honour then 
A hostage for it, and with it confer 

My nearest woman here, in all she knows ; 310 

Who (if the sun or Cerfaerus could have seen 
Any stain in me) might as well as they ; 
And» Pero, here I charge thee fay my love. 
And all proofs of it (which I might call faounties). 
By all that thou hast seen seem good in me, 215 

And an the in which thou shouldst spit from thee. 
By pity of the wound this touch hath given me, 
Not as thy mistress now, faut a poor woman. 
To death given over, rid me of my pains ; 
Pour on thy powder ; clear thy fareast of me : 33b 

My lord is only here ; here speak thy worst. 
Thy faest wiU do me mischief ; if thou spar'st me. 
Never shine good thought on thy memory ! 
Resolve my lord, and leave me desperate. 

Pero. My lord ! — My lord hath play'd a prodigal's part. 335 
To fareak his stock for nothing ; and an insolent. 
To cut a Gordian when he could not loose it : 
What violence is this, to put true fire 
To a false train, to falow up long-crown'd peace 
With sudden outrage, and faelieve a man ^ . 330 


Sworn to the shame of women, gainst a woman 
Bom to their honours 1 But I will to him. 

Tarn, No, I will write (ior I shall never more 
Meet with the fugitive) where I will clefy him. 
Were he ten times the brother of my king. 235 

To him, my lord, and I'll to cursing him. 


A Room in Montsurry's House] 
Enter D'Ambois and Friar 



Bus. I am suspicious, my most honour'd father. 
By some of Monsieur's cunning passages. 
That his still ranging and contentious nostrils. 
To scent the haunts of Mischief have so us'd 
The vicious virtue of his busy sense, 5 

That he trails hotly of him, and wiU rouse him. 
Driving him all enraged and foaming on us ; 
And therefore have entreated your deep skill 
In the command of good atrial spirits. 

To assume these magic rites, and call up one 10 

To know if any have reveal'd unto him 
Anything touching my dear love and me. 

Friar, Good son, you have amaz'd me but to make 
The least doubt of it, it concerns so nearly 
The faith and reverence of my name and order. 15 

Yet will I justify, upon my soul, 
All I have done; if any spirit i' th' earth or air 
Can give you the resolve, do not despair. 


Muzic : and Tamyra enters with Pero, her maid^ hearing a letter 

Tarn. Away, deliver it: Exit Pero 

O may my tines, 
Fill'd with the poison of a woman's hate, 20 

When he shall open them, shrink up his curs'd eyes 
With torturous darkness, such as stands in hell. 
Stuck full of inward hoirors, never lighted. 
With which are all things to be fear'd, affrighted ; 

Bus, [advancing] How is it with my honour'd mistress ? 25 
Tarn, O servant, help, and save me from the gripes 
Of shame and infamy. Our love is known ; 


Your Monsieiir hath a paper where is writ 
Some secret tokens that decipher it. 

Bus. What cold dull Northern brain, what fool but he 30 
Durst take into his Epimethean breast 
A box of such plagues as the danger yields 
Incurr'd in this discovery ? He had better 
Ventur'd his breast in the consuming reach 
Of the hot surfeits cast out of the clouds, 35 

Or stood the bullets that (to wreak the sky) 
The Cyclops ram in Jove's artillery. 

Friar, We soon will take the darkness from his face 
That did that deed of darkness ; we will know 
What now the Monsieur and your husband do, 40 

What is contain'd within the secret paper 
Offer'd by Monsieur, and your love's events : 
To which ends, honour'd daughter, at your motion^. 
I have put on these exorcising rites. 

And, by my power of learned holiness 45' 

VoQchsaf'd me from above, I will command 
Our resolution of a raised spirit. 

Tarn, Good father, raise him in some beauteous form* 
That with least terror 'I may brook his sight. 

Friar, Stand sure together, then, whatever you see, 50 

And stir not, as ye tender all our Hves. 

He puts on his robes 

Occidentaliufn legionum spiritualium imperator (magnus 
iile Behemoth) vent, veni, comitatus cum Astaroth locotenente 
invicto. Adjuro te per Stygis inscrutabilia arcana, per ipsos 
irremeabiles an fr actus Avemi : adesto 6 Behempth, tu cut petvia 55 
sunt Magnatum scrinia ; vent, per Noctis 6* tenebrarum 
abdiia profundissima ; pet labentia sidera ; per ipsos motus^ 
horarum furtivos, Hecatesque^ altum siUHHum^i Appars in 
forma spiritali, lucente, splendUda iS* amabUi, - '' 

Thunder. Ascendit [Behemoth with Cartophy- 
lax and other spirits] 

Beh. What would the holy Friar ? 

Friar. I would see 60. 

What now the Monsieur and Montsurry do, 
And see the secret paper that the Monsieur 
Offer'd to Count Montsurry, longing muoh 
To 'know on what events the secret loves 
Of these two honour'd persons shall arrive* 65 


Beh. Why call'dst thou me to this accniBed light, 
To these light purposes ? I am Emperor 
Of that inscrutable darkness where are hid ^ 

All deepest truths, and secrets never seen, ." 

All which I know, and command legions 70 

Of knowing spirits tiiat can do more than these. V 

Any of this my guard that circle me 
In these blue fires, and out of whose dim fumes 
Vast murmurs use to break, and from their sounds 
Articulate voices, can do ten parts more 75 

Than open such slight truths as you require. 

Friar. From the last nighfs black depth I call'd up one 
Of the inferior ablest ministers. 
And he could not resolve me ; send one then 
Out of thine own command, to fetch the paper 80 

That Monsieur hath to show to Count Montsurry. 

Beh. I wUl. Cartophylax, thou that properly 
Hast in thy power all papers so inscribed. 
Glide through aU bars to it and fetch that paper. 

Car, 1 will. A torch removes 

Friar. Till he returns^ great Prince of Darkness, 85 

Tell me if Monsieur and the Count Montsurry 
Are yet encountered ^ 

Beh. Both them and the Ouise ' 

Are now together. 

Friar. Show us all their persons. 

And represent the place, with all their actions. 

Beh. The spirit will straight return, and then I'U show 
thee. 90 

IRe-enter Cartophylax] 

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

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 slackness, not t' invoke our powers 95 
When first your acts set forth to their efiects ; 
Yet shall you see it and themselves : behold 
They come here, and the Earl now holds the paper. 

Enter [abovei] Monsieur, Guise, Montsurry, with a paper 

Bus. May we not hear them ? 

[Friar,] No, be still and see. 

Bus. I will go tttcb the paper. 


• Friar. Do not stir ; xoo 

There's too much distance and too many locks 
Twixt you and them (how near soe'er they seem), 
For any man to interrupt their secrets. 

Tarn. O honour'd spirit, fly into the fancy 
Of my offended lord, and do not let him 105 

Believe what there the wicked man hath written. 

Beh. Persuasion hath already entered him 
Beyond reflection ; peace till their departure. 

Mons, There is a glass of ink where you may see 
How to make ready black-fac'd tragedy: no 

You now discern, I hope, through all her paintings, 
Her gasxnng wrinkles and fame's sepulchres. 

Guise. Think you he feigns, my lord ? What hold you . 
now ? 
Do we malign your wife, or honour you ? 

Mons. What, stricken dumb 1 Nay fie, lord, be not 
daunted ; 115 

Your case is common ; were it ne'er so rare. 
Bear it as rarely I Now to laugh were manly ; 
A worthy man should imitate the weather 
That sings in tempests, and, being clear, is silent. 

Guise. Go home, my lord, and force your wife to write 120 
Such loving lines to D'Ambois as she us'd 
When she desir'd his presence. 

Mons. Do, my lord. 

And make her name her conceal'd messenger. 
That close and most inennerable pander, 

That passeth all our studies to exquire ; 125 

By whom convey the letter to her love ; 
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 130 

All close and soundly arm'd ; and let them share 
A spirit amongst them that would serve a thousand. 

Enter [above] Fero with a letter 

Guise. Yet stay a little ; see, she sends for you. 
Mons. Poor, loving lady ; she'll make aU good yet, 
Think you not so, my lord ? 

Montsurry stabs Pero and e^it 


Guise. Alas, poor soul! 135 

Mans. This was cmelly done, i' faith. 

Pero. 'Twas nobly done. 

And I forgive his lordship from my soul. 

Mons. Then much good do't thee, Pero ! Hast a letter ? 

Psro. I hope it rather be a bitter volume 
Of worthy curses for your perjury. 140 

Guise. To you, my lord. 

Mons. To me ? Now, out upon her. 

Guise. Let me see, my lord> 

Mons. You shall presently. How fares my Pero ? 
Who's there ? 

Enter Servant. 

Take in this maid, sh'as caught a clap. 
And fetch my surgeon to her ; come, my lord, 145 

We'll now peruse our letter. 

Exeu$U Montsurry, Qnise 

Pero. Furies rise 

Out of the black lines, and torment his soul. 

[Servant lead[s] her out 

Tarn. Hath my lord slain my woman ? 

Beh. No, she lives. 

Friar. What shall become of us ? 

Beh. All I can say. 

Being call'd thus late, is brief, and darkly this : 1 50 

If D'Ambois' mistress dye not her white hand 
In his forc'd blood, he shall remain untouch'd ; 
So, father, shall yourself, but by yourself : 
To make this augury plainer, when the voice 
Of D'Ambois shall invoke me, I will rise, 155 

Shining in greater light, and show him all 
That will betide ye all ; meantime be wise. 
And curb his valour with your policies. 

Descendit cum suis 

Bus. Will he appear to me when I invoke him ? 

Friar. He will» be sure. 

Bus. It must be shortly then : 160 

For his dark words have tied my thoughts on knots 
Till he dissolve, and free them. 

Tarn. In meantime, 

Dear •ervant* till your powerful voice revoke him. 


Be sure to use the policy he advis'd ; 

Lest fury in your too quick knowledge taken i6s 

Of our abuse, and your defence of me. 

Accuse me more than any enemy ; 

And, father, you must on my lord impose 

Your holiest charges, and the Church's power 

To temper his hot spirit and disperse 170 

The cruelty and the blood I know his hand 

Will shower upon our heads, if you put not 

Your finger to the storm, and hold it up. 

As my dear servant here must do with Monsieur. 

Bus. I'D soothe his plots, and strow my hate with smiles, 175 
Till all at once the close mines of my heart 
Rise at full date, and rush into his Uood : 
I'D bind his arm in silk, and mb his flesh. 
To make the vein swell, that his soul may gush 
Into some kennel where it longs to lie, I0fr 

And policy shaU be flank'd with policy. 
Yet shall the feeling centre where we meet 
Gioan with the weight of my approaching feet; 
I'D make th' inspired thresholds of his court 
Sweat with the weather of my hornd steps* 185 

Before I enter ; yet will I appear 
Like cahn security before a ruin ; 
A politician must like lightning melt 
The very marrow, and not taint the skin: 
His ways must not be seen ; the superfides 190 

Of the green centre must not taste his feet; 
When heU is plow'd up with his wounding tracts ; 
And all his harvest reap'd by hellish facts* Btf^mU 


lA Room in Montsurry's House} 

Montsurry, bare, unbraced, pultinf; Tamyra in by the 
hair. Friar. One bearing light, a standish and paper, 
which sets a table. 

Torn* O, help me» father I 

Friar, Impious earl, forbear. 


Take violent hand from her, or, by mine order. 
The King shall force thee. 

Mont. Tis not violent ; 

Come you not willingly ? 

Tarn, Yes, good my lord. 

Friar. My lord, remember that 3ronr soul must seek 5 
Her peace, as well as your revengefid blood ; 
You ever to this hour have prov'd yourself 
A noble, zealous, and obedient son, 
T'our holy mother ; be not an apostate : 

Your wife's offence serves not (were it the worst 10 

Yon can imagine) without greater proofs 
To sever your eternal bonds and hearts ; 
Much less to touch her with a bloody hand : 
Nor is it manly, much less husbandly. 

To expiate any frailty in your wife 15 

With churlish strokes or beastly odds of strength : 
The stony birth of clouds will touch no laurel. 
Nor any sleeper ; your wife is your laurel. 
And sweetest sleeper ; do not touch her then ; 
Be not more rude than the wild seed of vapour 20 

To her that is more gentle than that rude ; 
In whom kind nature sufier'd one ofience 
But to set ofi her other excellence. 

Mont. Good father, leave us ; interrupt no more 
The course I must run for mine honour sake. 25 

Rely on my love to her, which her fault 
Cannot extinguish ; will she but disclose 
Who was the secret nunister of her love. 
And through what maze he serv'd it, we are friends. 

Friar. It is a danm'd work to pursue those secrets, 30 

That would ope more sin, and prove springs of slaughter ; 
Nor is't a path for Christian feet to tread* 
But out of all way to the health of souls, 
A sin impossible to be forgiven ; 
Which he that dares commit — 

Mont. Good father, cease your terrors. 35 

Tempt not a man distrax:tsd ; I am apt 
To outrages that I shall ever rue I 
I will not pass the verge that bounds a Christian, 
Nor break the limits of a man nor husband. 

Friar. Then God inspire you both with thoughts and deeds 40 
Worthy his high respect, and yonc own souls. 


Tom. Father ! 

Friar. I waxrant thee, my dearest daughter. 

He will not touch thee ; think'st thou him a pagan ? 
His honour and his soul lies for thy safety. E»it 

Mont, Who shall remove the mountain from my breast, 4$ 
Stand the opening furnace of my thoughts. 
And set fit outcries for a soul in hell ? 

Montsurry tufns a h^y 
For now it nothing fits my woes to speak 
But thunder, or to take into my throat 

The trump of Heaven, with whose determinate blasts 50 

The winds shaU burst, and the devouring seas 
Be drunk up in his sounds ; that my hot woes 
(Vented enough) I might convert to vapour. 
Ascending from my infamy unseen. 

Shorten the world, preventing the last breath 55 

That kills the living, and regenerates death. 

Tarn, My lord, my fault (as you may censors it 
With too strong arguments) is past your pardon : 
But how the circumstances may excuse me 
God knows, and your more temperate mind hereafter 60 

May let my penitent miseries make 3^u know. 

Mowt. Hereafter ? Tis a supposed infinite, 
That from this point will rise eternally : 
Fame grows in going ; in the scapes of virtue 
Excuses damn her : they be fires in cities 65 

Eniag'd with those winds that less lights extinguish. 
Come, Siren, sing, and dash against my rocks 
Thy ruffian galley, rigg'd with quench for lust I 
Sing, and put all the nets into thy voice 
With which thou drew'st into thy strumpet* s lap 70 

The spawn of Venus, and in which ye danced; 
That, in thy lap's stead, I may dig his tomb. 
And quit his manhood with a woman's sleii^t. 
Who never is deceiv'd in her deceit. 

Sing (that is, write), and then take from mine eyes 75 

The mists that hide the most inscrutable pander 
That ever lapp'd up an adulterous vomit ; 
That I may see the devil, and survive 
To be a devil, and then learn to wive : 

That I may hang him, and then cut him down, 80 

Then cut him up, and with my soul's beams search 
The cranks and caverns of his brain, and study 


The errant wilderness of a woman's face, 

Where men cannot get out, for all the comets 

That have been lighted at it : though they know 85 

That adders lie a-sunning in their smiles. 

That basihsks drink their poison from their eyes. 

And no way there to coast out to their hearts ; 

Yet still they wander there, and are not stay'd 

Till they be fetter'd* nor secure before 90 

All cares devour them, nor in human consort 

Till they embrace within their wife's two breasts 

All Pelion and C3rthaBron with their beasts. 

Why write you not ? 

Tarn. O, good my lord, forbear 

In wreak of great &uihs to engender greater, 95 

And make my love's corruption generate murthen 

Mont, It follows needfully as child and parent ; 
The chain-shot of thy lust is yet aloft. 
And it must murther ; 'tis thine own dear twin : 
No man can add height to a woman's sin. 100 

Vice never doth her just hate so provoke. 
As when she rageth under virtue's cloak. 
Write ! For it must be ; by this ruthless steel. 
By this impartial torture, and the death 
Thy tyrannies have invented in my entrails, 105 

To quicken life in dying, and hold up 
The spirits in fainting, teaching to preserve 
Torments in ashes, that will ever last. 
Speak ! Will you write ? 

Tarn. Sweet lord, enjoin my sin 

Some other penance than what makes it worse : no 

Hide in some gloomy dungeon my loath'd face. 
And let condemned murtherers let me down 
(Stopping their noses) my abhorred food. 
Hang me in chains, and let me eat these asms 
That have offended: bind me face to face 115 

To some dead woman, taken from the cart 
Of execution, till death and time 
In grains of dust dissolve me ; I'll endure : 
Or any torture that your wrath's invention 
Can fright all pity from the world withal : 1 20 

Bat to betray a friend with show of friendship, 
That is too common for the rare revenge 
Your rage afiecteth ; here then are my breasts, 


Last night your pillows ; here my wretched arms. 

As late the wished confines of your life : 125 

Now break them as yon please, and all the bounds 

Of manhood, noblesse, and rehgion. 

Mont. Where all these have been broken, they are kept. 
In doing their justice there with any show 
Of the like cruelty ; thine arms have lost 130 

Their privilege in lust, and in their torture 
Thus they nmst pay it. Stabs her 

Tarn. O Lord ! 

Mont. Till thou writ'st, 

I'll write in wounds (my wrong's fit characters) 
Thy right of sufferance. Write t 

Tarn. Oh, kill me, kill me! 

Dear husband, be not crueller than death ; 135 

You have beheld some Gorgon ; feel, oh, feel 
How you are tum'd to stone ; with my heart-blood 
Dissolve yourself again, or 3rou will grow 
Into the image of aU tyranny. 

Mont. As thou art of adultery; I will ever 140 

Prove thee my parallel, being most a monster ; 
Thus I express thee yet. Skibs her again 

Tarn. And 3^ I live. 

Mont. Ay, for thy monstrous idol is not done yet : 
This tool hath wrought enough ; [sheaihing hi& dagger] now. 

Torture, use 
This other engine on th' habituate powers 145 

Of her thrice-damn'd and whorish f<»rtitude: 

Enter Servants [and place Tamyra on the rach] 

Use the most madding pains in her that ever 
Thy venoms soak'd through, making most of death. 
That she may weigh her wrongs with them, and then 
Stand, Vengeance, on thy steepest rock, a victor I 150 

Tarn. Oh, who is tum'd into my lord and husband ? 
Husband I My lord ! None but my lord and husband ! 
Heaven, I ask thee remission of my sins. 
Not of my pains ; husband, oh, help me, husband ! 

Ascendit Friar w^h a ^word drawn 

Friar. What rape of honour and religion ! 155 

Oh, wrack of nature ! Falls and dies 

Tarn* Poor man 1 Oh, my father I 


Father, look up ! Oh, let me down, my lord. 
And I will write. 

Mont. Author of prodigies ! 

What new flame breaks out of the firmament. 
That turns up counsels never known before ? i6o 

Now is it true, earth moves, and heaven stands still ; 
Even heaven itself must see and sufEer ill : 
The too huge bias of the world hath sway'd 
Her back-psirt upwards, and with that she braves 
This hemisphere, that long her mouth hath mock'd ! 165 

The gravity of her religious face, 
(Now grown too weighty with her sacrilege 
And here discem'd sophisticate enough) 
Turns to th' Antipodes ; and all the forms 
That her illusions have impressed in her, 170 

Have eaten through her back ; and now all see. 
How she is riveted with h3rpocrisy. 
Was this the way ? Was he the mean betwixt you ? 

Tarn, He was, he was, kind worthy man, he was. 

Mont. Write, write a word or two. 175 

Tarn. I will, I will. 

I'll write, but with my blood, that he may see 
These lines come from my wounds, and not from me. 


Mont. Well might he die for thought : methinks the frame 
And shaken joints of the whole world should crack 
To see her parts so disproportionate ; 1 80 

And that his general beauty cannot stand 
Without these stains in the particular man. 
Why wander I so far ? Here, here was she 
That was a whole world without spot to me. 
Though now a world of spots ; oh, what a lightning 185 

Is man's delight in women 1 What a bubble. 
He builds his state, fame, life on, when he marries ! 
Since all earth's pleasures are so short and small. 
The way t'enjoy it, is t'abjure it all. 

Enough I I must be messenger myself, 190 

Disguis'd like this strange creature : in, I'll after. 
To see what guilty light gives this cave eyes. 
And to the world sing new impieties. 

Exeunt [Servants]. He puts the Fdar in the vault and 
foUows. She wraps herself in the afra&. 



Another Roam in Montsurry's House} 

Enter Monsieur and Guise 

Mons. Now shall we see that Nature hath no end 
In her great works responsive to their worths ; 
That she, that makes so many eyes and souls 
To see and foresee, is stark blind herself ; 
And as illiterate men say Latin prayers 5 

By rote of heart and daily iteration, 
Not knowing what they say, so Nature lays 
A deal of stuff together, and by use. 
Or by the mere necessity of matter. 

Ends such a work, fills it, or leaves it empty 10 

Of strength or virtue, error or clear truth. 
Not knowing what she does ; but usually 
Gives that which we call merit to a man. 
And believe should arrive him on huge riches. 
Honour, and happiness, that effects his ruin ; 1 5 

Right as in ships of war whole lasts of powder 
Are laid, men think, to make them last, and guard them. 
When a disordered spark that powder taking. 
Blows up with sudden violence and horror 
Ships that (kept empty) had sail'd long with terror. 20 

Guise. He that observes but hke a worldly man 
That which doth oft succeed, and by th' events 
Values the worth of things, will think it true 
That Nature works at random, just with you : 
But with as much proportion she may make 25 

A thing that from the feet up to the throat 
Hath an the wondrous fabric man should have, 
And leave it headless, for a perfect man. 
As give a full man valour, virtue, learning. 
Without an end more excellent than those 30 

On whom she no such worthy part bestows. 

Mans. Yet shall you see it here ; here will be one 
Young, learned, vaHant, virtuous, and full mann'd ; 
One on whom Nature spent so rich a hand 
That with an ominous eye she wept to see 35 

So much consumed her virtuous treasury. 
Yet as the winds sing through a hollow tree 
And (since it lets them pass through) let it stand ; 


But a tree solid (since it gives no way 

To their wild rage) they rend up by the root : 40 

So this whole man 

(That will not wind with every crooked way. 

Trod by the servile world) shall reel and fall 

Before the frantic pufEs of blind-bom chance. 

That pipes through empty men, and makes them dance. 45 

Not so the sea raves on the Lylnan sands. 

Tumbling her billows in each others' neck ; 

Not so the surges of the Euxine sea 

(Near to the frosty pole, where free Bootes 

From those dark deep waves turns his radiant team) 50 

Swell, being enrag'd, even from their iimiost drop. 

As Fortune swings about the restless state 

Of virtue, now thrown into all men's hate. 

Enter Montsurry disguised [as the Friar] with the 


Away, my lord ; you are perfectly disguis'd, 

Leave us to lodge your ambush. 55 

Mont. Speed me, vengeance ! Exit 

Mons, Resolve, my masters, you shall meet with one 

Will try what proofs your privy coats are made on : 

When he is enter'd, and you hear us- stamp. 

Approach, and make all sure. 

Murtherers. We will, my lord. Exeunt 


A room in Bussy's House"] 

D'Ambois with two Pages with tapers 

Bus. Sit up to-night, and watch ; I'll speak with none 
But the old Friar, who bring to me. 

Pages. We will, sir. Exeunt 

Bus. What violent heat is this ? Methinks the fire 
Of twenty lives doth on a sudden flash 

Through all my faculties: the air goes high 5 

In this close chamber, and the frighted earth Thunder 

Trembles, and shrinks beneath me ; the whole house 
Nods with his shaken burthen. 

Enter Umbra Friar 

Bless me, heaven ! 


Umbra. Note what I want, dear son, and be f orewam'd : 

there are bloody deeds past and to come. 10 

1 cannot stay ; a fate doth ravish me ; 

I'll meet thee in the chamber of thy love. E:ifit 

Bus, What dismal change is here ! The good old Friar 
Is mnrth^'d, being made known to serve my love ; 
And now his restless spirit would forewarn me 15 

Of some plot dangerous and imminent. 
Note what he wants ? He wants his upper weed. 
He wants his life and body: which of lliese 
Should be the want he means, and may supply me 
^^th any fit forewarning ? This strange vision 20 

(Together with the dark prediction 
Us'd by the Prince of Darkness that was rais'd 
By this embodied shadow) stir my thoughts 
With reminiscion of the Spirit's promise, 
Who told me that by any invocation 25 

I should have power to raise him, though it wanted 
The powerful words and decent rites of art : 
Never had my set brain such need of spirit 
T'instruct and cheer it ; now then I will daim 
Performance of his free and gentle vow 30 

T'appear in greater light, and make more plain 
His rugged oracle : I long to know 
How my dear mistress fares, and be informed 
What hand she now holds on the troubled blood 
Of her incensed lord : methought the Spirit 35 

(When he had utter'd his perplex'd presage) 
Threw his changed countenance headlong into clouds; 
His forehead bent, as it would hide his face. 
He knock'd his chin against his darkened breast. 
And struck a churlish silence through his powers. 40 

Terror of darkness I O, tl^ou King of flames ! 
That with thy music-footed horse dost strike 
The clear light out of crystal on dark earth. 
And hurl'st instructive fire about the world. 
Wake, wake the drowsy and enchanted night, 45 

That sleeps with dead eyes in this heavy riddle I 
Or thou great Prince of shades where never sun 
Sticks his far-darted beams, whose eyes are made 
To shine in darkness, and see ever best 

Where men are blindest, open now the heart 5^ 

Of thy abashed oracles that, for fear, 

coxw. V 


Of some ill it includes, would fain lie hid» 
And rise thou with it in thy greater light. 

Thunders. Surgit Spiritus cum suis 

BeH, Thus, to observe my vow of apparition 
In greater light, and explicate thy fate, 55 

I come ; and tell thee that, if thou obey 
The summons that thy mistress next will send thee, 
Her hand shall be thy death. 

Bus. When will she send ? 

Beh. Soon as I set again, where late I rose. 

Bus. Is the old Friar slain ? 60 

Bsh. No, and yet lives not. 

Bus. Died he a natural death ? 

Beh. He did. 

Bus. Who then 

Will my dear mistress send ? 

Beh. I must not teU thee. 

Bus. Who lets thee ? 

Beh. Fate. 

B«5. Who are Fate's ministers ? 

Beh. The Guise and Monsieur. 

Bus. A fit pair of shears 

To cut the threads of kings and kingly spirits, 65 

And consorts fit to sound forth harmony 
Set to the falls of kingdoms ! Shall the hand 
Of my kind mistress kill me ? 

Beh. If thou yield 

To her next summons. Vare fair-wam'd ; farewell ! 

Thunders. Exit 

Bus. I must fare well, however, though I die, 70 

My death consenting with his augury: 
Should not my powers obey when she commands. 
My motion must be rebel to my will. 
My will to life. If, when I have obe3r*d. 
Her hand should so reward me, they must arm it, 75 

Bind me, or force it ; or, I lay my life, 
She rather would convert it many times 
On her own bosom, even to many deaths : 
But were there danger of such violence, 

I know 'tis far from her intent to send : to 

And who she should send is as far from thought. 
Since he is dead, whose only mean she us'd. 

[One] knacks 


Who's there ? Look to the door, and let him in. 
Though politic Monsieur or the violent Guise. 

Enier Montsurry, like the Friar, with a letter written tn blood 

MotU. Hail to my worthy son. 85 

Bus, Oh, lying Spirit^ 

To say the Friar was dead I I'H now believe 
Nothing of aU his forg'd predictions. 
My kind and hononr'd lather, well reviVd t 
I have been frighted with your death and mine. 
And told my mistress' hand should be my death, 90 

If I obey'd this summons. 

Mont. I believ'd 

Your love had been much clearer than to give 
Any such doubt a thought, for she is clear. 
And having freed her husband's jealousy 
(Of which her much abus'd hand here is witness) 95 

She prays, for urgent cause, your instant presence. 

Bus. Why, then 3rour Prince of Spirits may be called 
The Prince of liars. 

Mont. Holy Writ so calls him. 

Bus. [Opening the letter] What ! Writ in blood ? 

Mont. Ay, 'tis the ink of lovers. 

Bus. O, 'tis a sacred witness of her love. 100 

So much elixir of her Uood as this, 
Dropt in the lightest dame, would make her firm 
As heat to fire ; and* like to all the signs. 
Commands the life confin'd in all my veins ; 
O, how it multiplies my blood with spirit, T05 

And makes me apt fencounter Death and Hell. 
But come, kind father, you fetch me to heaven. 
And to that end your holy weed was given. Exeunt 


A Room in Montsurry's House] 

Thunder. Intrat Umbra Friar, and discovers Tamyra . 
Umbra. Up witii tbsae stupid though, still loahMl 

And strike away this heartless toaaos of anguiah. 


Be like the snn, an4 labour in eclipses ; 

Look to the end of woes : oh, can 3rou sit 

Mustering the horrors of your servant's slaughter $ 

Before your contemi^tion, and not study 

How to prevent it ? Watch when he shall rise. 

And with a sudden outcry of his murther, ' -^ 

Blow his retreat before he be revenged. 

Tarn. O father, have my dumb woes wak'd your death ? xo 
When will our human gtiefa be at their height ? 
Man is a tree that hath no top in cares. 
No root in comforts ; all his power to live 
Is given to no end, but t'have power to grieve. 

Umbra. It is the misery of our creation, , 15 

Your true friend, 

Led by your husband, shadow'd in my weed. 
Now enters the dark vault. 

Tarn. But, my dearest father. 

Why will not you appear to him yourself. 
And see that none of these deceits annoy him ? 20 

Ufnbra. My power is limited ; alas 1 I cannot. 
All that I can do— See, the cave opens 1 

Exit. D'Ambois ^appears] at the Gulf 

Tarn, Away, my love, away ! Thou wilt be murther'd. 

Enter Monsieur and Guise above. 

Bus, Murther'd ? I know not what that Hebrew means : 
That word had ne'er been nam'd had all been D'Ambois. 25 
Murther'd ? By heaven, he is my murtherer 
That shows me not a murtherer ; what such bug 
Abhorreth not the very sleep of D'Ambois ? 
Murther'd ? Who dares give all the room I see 
To D'Ambois' reach, or look with any odds 30 

His fight i'th' face, upon whose hand sits death, 
Whose sword hath wings, and every feather piercetii ? 
If I scape Monsieur's 'pothecary shops, 
Foutre for Guise's shambles ! 'Twas ill plotted ; 
They should have maul'd me here, when I was rising. 35 

I am up and ready. 

Let in my poUtic visitants, let them in. 
Though entering like so many moving armours. 
Fate is more strong than arms, and sly than treason. 
And I at all parts buckled in my &kte. ' 40 



- . ' V Why enter not the coward villains ? 
Bus. Dare they not come ? 

Enter Mnrtherers wiih [Umbra] Friar at the other door 

Tarn. They come. 

First Mar. Come all. at once. 

Umbra. Back, coward mmilierers, back! 

Omnes. Defend us, heaven! 

Exeunt all but the first [Murtherer] ' 

First Mur. Come ye not on ? 

Bus. No^ slave, nor goest thou off. 

Stand 3ron so firm ? [Strikes him with his sword!\ Will it 

not enter here ? 45 

You have a face yet. [KiUs the first Murtheren] So ! In thy 

life's flame 
I bum the first rites to my mistress' fame. 

Umbra. Breathe thee, brave son, against the other charge. 

Bus. Oh, is it true then that my sense first told me ? 
Is my kind father dead ? 

Tarn. He is, my love. 50 

Twas the Earl, my husband, in his weed, that brought thee. 

Bus. That was a speeding sleight, and well resembled. 
Where is that angry Earl ? My lord, come forth 
And show your own face in your own affair ; 
Take not into your noble veins the blood 55 

Of these base villains, nor the light reports 
Of hlister'd tongues for clear and weighty truth, 
But me against the world, in pure defence 
Of your rare lady, to whose spotless name 
I stand here as a bulwark, and project 60 

A life to her renown, that ever yet 
Hath been untainted* even in envy's eye. 
And, where it would protect, a sanctuary. 
Kave Earl* come forth, and keep your scandal in : 
'Tis not our fault, if you enforce the spot 65 

Nor the wreak yours, if you perform it not. 

EfUer Montsurry, with all the MurtherexB 

Moni. Cowards, a fiend or spirit beat ye off ? 
They are your own faint spirits that have forg'd 
The fearful shadows that your eyes delude : 
The ^ea:id was in you ; cast him out then, thus. 70 


[Th^ fight.'] D'Ambois hath Montsurry down 
Tarn, Favour my lord, my love, O, favour him ! 
Bus. I will not touch him : take your life, my lord. 

And be appeas'd. Pistols shot within. [Bussy is wounded] 

O, then the coward Fates 

Have maim'd themselves, and ever lost their honour. 

Ufpibra. What have ye done, slaves ? Irreligious iofd ! 75 
Bus. Forbear them« father ; 'tis enough for me 

That Guise and Monsieur, Death and Destiny, 

Come behind D'Ambois. Is my body, then. 

But penetrable flesh ? And must my mind 

Follow my blood ? Can my divine part add 80 

No aid to th' earthly in extremity ? 

Then these divines are but for form, not fact: 

Man is of two sweet courtly friends compact, 

A mistress and a servant: let my death 

Define life nothing but a courtier's breath. 85 

Nothing is made of nought, of all things made. 

Their abstract being a dream but of a shade. 

I'U not complain to earth yet, but to heaven. 

And, like a man, look upwards even in death. 

And if Vespasian thought in majesty 90 

An emperor might die standing, why not I ? 

She offers $0 help him 

Nay, without help, in which I will exceed him ; 

For he died splinted with his chamber grooms. 

Prop me, true sword, as thou hast ever done ! 

The equal thought I bear of life and death 95 

Shall make me faint on no side ; I am up ; 

Here like a Roman statue I will stand 

TiU death hath made me marble. Oh, my fame. 

Live in despite of murther I Take thy wings 

And haste thee where the grey ey'd Mom perfumes xoo 

Her rosy chariot with Sabaean spices ! 

Fly, where the Evening from th' Iberian vales 

TaJces on her swarthy shoulders Hecate, 

Crown'd with a grove of oaks : fly where men feel 

The burning axletree, and those that sufiEer X05 

Beneath the chariot of the snowy Bear: 

And tell them all that D'Ambois now is hasting 

To the eternal dwellers ; that a thunder 

Of all their sighs together (for their frailties 


Beheld in me) may quit my worthless fall no 

With a fit volley for my funeral. 

Umbra. Forgive thy murtherers. 

Bus. I forgive them all ; 

And youy my lord [to Montsurry], their fautor ; for true sign 
Of which unfeign'd remission take my sword ; 
Take it, and only give it motion, 115 

And it shall find the way to victory 
By his own brightness, and th' inherent valour 
My fight hath stiU'd into't with charms of spirit 
Now let me pray you that my weighty blood 
Laid in one scale of your impartial spleen, 120 

May sway the forfeit of my worthy love 
Weighed in the other ; and be recondl'd 
With all forgiveness to your matchless wife. 

Tarn. Forgive thou me, dear servant, and this hand 
That led thy life to this unworthy end ; 125 

Forgive it, for the blood with wliich 'tis stained. 
In which I writ the summons of thy death — 
The forced summons — by this bleeding wound, 
By this here in my bosom, and by this 

That makes me hold up both my hands imbru'd 130 

For thy dear pardon. 

Bus. O, my heart is broken I 

Fate nor these murtherers. Monsieur nor the Guise, 
Have any glory in my death, but this. 
This killing spectacle, this prodigy : 

My sun is tum'd to blood, in whose red beams 135 

Pindus and Ossa (hid in drifts of snow. 
Laid on my heart and liver) from their veins 
Melt like two hungry torrents, eating rocks. 
Into the ocean of all human life. 

And make it bitter, only with my blood. 140 

O frail condition of strength, valour, virtue. 
In me (like warning fire upon the top 
Of some steep beacon, on a steeper lull) 
Made to express it: like a falling star 

Silently g^anc'd, that like a thunderbolt i45 

Look'd to have stuck and shook the firmament. 


Umbra. Farewell, brave relics of a complete man. 
Look up and see thy spirit made a star ; 
Join flames with Hercules, and when thou sett'st 


Thy radiant forehead in the firmament, 150 

MaJce the vast crystal crack with thy receipt ; 

Spread to a world of fire, and the aged sky 

Cheer with new sparks of old humanity. 

[To Montsurry] Son of the earth, whom my unrested soul. 

Rues t'have begotten in the faith of heaven, 155 

Assay to gratulate and pacify 

The soul fled from this worthy by performing 

The Christian reconcilement he besought 

Betwixt thee and thy lady ; let her wounds 

Manlessly digg'd in her, be eas'd and cur'd 160 

With balm of thine own tears ; or be assur'd 

Never to rest free from my haunt and horror. 

Mont* See how she merits this ; still kneeling by. 
And mourning his fall more than her own fault ! 

Umbra. Remove, dear daughter, and content thy husband ; 165 
So piety wills thee, and thy servant's peace. 

[Exit Umbra] 

Tarn. O wretched piety, that art so distract 
In thine own constancy, and in thy right 
Must be unrighteous : if I right my friend 
I wrong my husband ; if his wrong I shun, 170 

The duty of my friend I leave undone : 
111 pla3rB on both sides ; here and there, it riseth ; 
No pkice, no good, so good, but ill compriseth ; 
O had I never married but for form. 

Never vow'd faith but purpos'd to deceive, 175 

Never made conscience of any sin. 
But doak'd it privately and made it common ; 
Nor never honoured been in blood or mind ; 
Happy had I been then, as others are 

Of the like licence ; I had then been honour'd ; 180 

Liv'd without envy ; custom had benumb'd 
All sense of scruple and all note of frailty ; 
My fame had been untouch'd, my heart unbroken : 
But (shunning aU) I strike on aU ofience, 
O husband ! Dear friend I O my conscience ! 185 

Mons. Come, let's away ; my senses are not proof 
Against those plaints. 

Exeunt Guise and Monsieur. D'Ambois is borne off 

Mont, 1 must not yield to pity, nor to love 
So servile and so traitorous : cease, my blood. 
To wrestle with my honour, fame, and judgment : 190 


Away, forsake my house, forbear complaints 
Where thou hast bred them : here [are] all things 
Of their own shame and sorrow ; leave my house. 

Tarn. Sweet lord, forgive me, and I will be gone. 
And tin these wounds (that never balm shall close 195 

Till death hath entered at them, so I love them. 
Being open'd by your hands) by death be cur'd, 
I never more will grieve you with my sight. 
Never endure that any roof shall part 

Bline eyes and heaven ; but to the open deserts 200 

(Like to a hunted tigress) I will fly. 
Eating my heart, shunning the steps of men. 
And look on no side tiU I be arriv'd. 

Mont. I do forgive thee, and upon my knees, 
With hands held up to heaven, wish that mine honour 20$ 
Would sufier reconcilement to my love ; 
But siuce it will not, honour never serve 
My love with flourishing object, till it sterve 1 
And as this taper, though it upwards look. 
Downwards must needs consume, so let our love ! 210 

As, having lost his honey, the sweet taste 
Runs into savour, and will needs retain 
A spice of his first parents, tUl, like life, 
It sees and dies ; so let our love ! And lastly. 
As when the flame is sufler'd to look up, 215 

It keeps his lustre, but, being thus tum'd down, 
(His natural course of useful light inverted). 
His own stufi puts it out, so let our love I 
Now turn from me, as here I turn from thee. 
And may both points of heaven's straight axle-tree 220 

Conjoin in one, before thyself and me. 

Exeuni sweraUy 




With many hands you have seen D'Ambois slain, 

Yet by your grace he may revive again. 

And every day grow stronger in his skill 

To please, as we presume he is in wilL 

The best deserving actors of the time 5 

Had their ascents ; and by degrees did climb 

To their full height, a place to study due. 

To make him tread in their path lies in you ; 

He'll not forget his makers, but still prove 

His thankfulness, as you increase your love. lo 




The Revenge of Bussy d'Ambois 





Since works of this kind have been lately esteemed 
worthy the patronage of some of oar worthiest nobles, I have 
made no donbt to prefer this of mine to your undoubted virtue 
and exceeding true noblesse, as containing matter no less deserving 
your reading, and excitation to heroical life, than any such late 
dedication. Nor have the greatest Prinees of Italy and other 
countries conceived it any least diminution to their greatness to 
have their names winged with these tragic plumes, and dispersed 
by way of patronage through the most noble notices of Europe. 

Howsoever therefore in the scenical presentation it might 
meet with some maligners, yet considering even therein it passed 
with approbation of more worthy judgments, the balance of their 
side (especially being held by your impartial hand) I hope will 
to no grain abide the out-weighing. And for the autentical 
truth of either person or action, who (worth the respecting) will 
expect it in a poem, whose subject is not truth, but things like 
truth ? Poor envious souls they are that cavil at truth's want 
in these natural fictions ; material instruction, elegant and 
sententious excitation to virtue, and deflection from her contrary, 
being the soul, limbs, and limits of an autentical tragedy. But 
whatsoever merit of your fuU countenance and favour suffers 
defect in this, I shall soon supply with some other of more general 
account: wherein your right virtuous name made famous and 
preserved to posterity, your future comfort and honour in your 
present acceptation, and love of all virtuous and divine expres- 
sion, may be so much past others of your rank increased^ as they 
are short of your judicial ingenuity in their due estimation, 



For, howsoever those ignoble and sonr-farowed worldlmgs 
are careless of whatsoever future or present opinion spreads of 
them, yet (with the most divine philosopher, if Scripture did 
not confirm it) I make it matter of my faith, that we truly retain 
an intellectual feeling of good or bad after this life, proportionably 
answerable to the love or neglect we bear here to all virtue, and 
truly humane instruction : in whose favour and honour I wish 
you most eminent ; and rest ever. 

Your true virtue's 

Most true observer, 



Henxy, the 


Perricot, an Usher [to Guise] 

Monsieur, his brother 

[An Usher to the Countess] 

Guise, a Duke 

The Guard 

Renel, a Marquess 


Montsurry, an Earl 


Baligny, Lord-Lieutenant [of 

/ Bussy 



Clermont d'Ambois 

Theghost[sliof{ Guise 

Maillard, ' 

Cardinal Guise 


• captains 

V Cha.tillon 

Aumale, , 

The Countess of Cambrai 


Tamyra, wife to Montsurry. 


Charlotte, wife to Baligny 

Riova, a servi 




[A. Room in the Courf\ 
Enter Baligny and Renel 

Bal. To what will this declining kingdom turn. 
Swinging in every licence, as in this 
Stupid permission of brave D'Ambois' mnrther ? 
Mnrther made parallel with law ! Murther us'd 
To serve the kingdom, given by suit to men 5 

For their advancement, suffer'd scarecrow-Uke 
To fright adultery I What will policy 
At length bring under his capacity ? 

Ren, All things : for as when the high births of kings. 
Deliverances, and coronations, lo 

We celebrate with aU the cities' bells 
Jangling together in untun'd confusion. 
All order'd clocks are tied up ; so when glory. 
Flattery, and smooth applauses of things ill. 
Uphold th' inordinate swinge of downright power, 15 

Justice and truth, that tell the bounded use. 
Virtuous and well-distinguish'd forms of time 
Are gagg'd and tongue-tied. But we have observed 
Rule in more regular motion : things most lawful 
Were once most royal ; kings sought common good, 20 

Men's manly liberties, though ne'er so mean. 
And had their own swinge so more free, and more. 
But when pride enter'd them, and rule by power. 
All brows that smil'd beneath them, frown'd ; hearts griev'd 
By imitation ; virtue quite was vanish'd, 25 

And all men studied self-love, fraud, and vice ; 
Then no man could be good but he was punish'd : 
Tyrants being .still more fearful of the good 
Than of the bad ; their subjects' virtues ever 
Manag'd with curbs and dangers, and esteem'd 30 

As shadows and detractions to their own. 

CD.W. » G 


Bal, Now all is peace, no danger : now what follows ? 
Idleness rusts us, since no virtuous labour 
Ends ought rewarded : ease, security, 

Now all the palm wears : we made war before 35 

So to prevent war ; men with giving gifts. 
More than receiving, made our country strong ; 
Our matchless race of soldiers then would spend 
In public wars, not private brawls, their spirits, 
In daring enemies, arm'd with meanest arms, 40 

Not courting strumpets, and consuming birthrights 
In apishness and envy of attire. 
No labour then was harsh, no way so deep. 
No rock so steep, but if a bird could scale it, 
Up would our youth fly too. A foe in arms 45 

Stirr'd up a much more lust of his encounter, 
Than of a mistress never so be-painted : 
Ambition then, was only scaling walls. 
And over-topping turret ; fame was wealth ; 
Best parts, best deeds, were best nobility ; 50 

Honour with worth, and wealth well got or none : 
Countries we won with as few men as countries ; 
Virtue subdu'd aU. 

Ren. Just: and then our nobles 

Lov'd virtue so, they prais'd and us'd it too : 
Had rather do than say, their own deeds hearing 55 

By others glorified, than be so barren 
That their parts only stood in praising others. 

Bal. Who could not do, yet prais'd, and envied not ; 
Civil behaviour flourished ; bounty flow'd ; 
Avarice to upland boors, slaves, hangmen, banish'd. 60 

Ren. 'Tis now quite otherwise : but to note the cause 
Of all these foul digressions and revolts 
From our first natures, this 'tis in a word : 
Since good arts fail, crafts and deceits are us'd ; 
Men ignorant are idle ; idle men 65 

Most practise what they most may do with ease. 
Fashion, and favour ; all their studies aiming 
At getting money, which no wise man ever 
Fed his desires witti. 

Bal. Yet now none are wise 

That think not heaven's tru[th] foolish, weigh'd with that. 70 
Well, thou most worthy to be greatest Ghiise, 
Make witti thy greatness a new world arise. 


Such depress'd nobles, followers of his. 

As yon, [j^niself], my lord, will find a time 

When to revenge yonr wrongs. 
Ren, I make no doubt: 75 

In mean time, I could wish the wrong were righted 

Of your slain brother-in-law, brave Bussy d'Ambois. 
Bal. That one accident was made my charge. 

My brother Bussy's sister, now my wife. 

By no suit would consent to satisfy 80 

My love of her with marriage, till I vow'd, 

To use my utmost to revenge my brother : 

But Qermont d'Ambois, Buss3r's second brother, 

Had, since, his apparition and excitement 

To snfier none but his hand in his wreak, 85 

Which he ha'tti vow'd, and so will needs acquit 

Me of my vow, made to my wife, his sister. 

And undertake himself Bussy's revenge ; 

Yet loathing any way to give it act. 

But in the noblest and most manly course, 90 

If th' Earl dares take it, he resolves to send 

A challenge to him, and myself must bear it ; 

To which delivery I can use no means. 

He is so bamcado'd in his house. 

And arm'd with guard still. 95 

Ren, That means lay on me. 

Which I can strangely make. My last lands' sale. 
By his great suit, stamds now on price with him. 
And he, as you know, passing covetous, 
With that blind greediness that follows gain, 
WiD cast no danger where her sweet feet tread. 100 

Besides, you know, his lady by his suit, 
(Wooing as freshly, as when fist Love shot 
His faultless arrows from her rosy eyes) 
Now lives with him again, and she, I know. 
Win join with all helps in her friend's revenge. 105 

Bal, No doubt, my lord, and therefore let me pray you 
To use all speed ; for so on needles' points 
My wife's heart stands with haste of the xevenge. 
Beings as you know, full of her brother's fire. 
That she imagines I neglect my vow ; 1 10 

Keeps off her kind embraces, and stiU asks, 
' When, when, will this revenge come ? When perform'd 
Win this dnU vow be ? ' and, I vow to heaven, 


So sternly, and so past her sex she urges 

My vow's performance, that I almost fear 115 

To see her, when I have awhile been absent, 

Not showing her, before I speak, the blood 

She so much thirsts for, freckling hands and face. 

Ren, Get you the challenge writ, and look from me 
To hear your passage clear'd no long time after. 120 

Exit Renel 

Bal. All restitution to your worthiest lordship 
Whose errand I must carry to the King, 
As having sworn my service in the search 
Of all such malcontents and their designs. 
By seeming one afiected with their faction 125 

And discontented humours gainst the state: 
Nor doth my brother Clermont scape my counsel 
Given to the King about his Guisean greatness. 
Which, as I spice it, hath possessed the King 
(Knowing his daring spirit) of much danger 130 

Charg'd in it to his person ; though my conscience 
Dare swear him clear of any power to be 
Infected with the least dishonesty: 
Yet that sincerity, we politicians 

Must say, grows out of envy, sinpe it cannot 135 

Aspire to policy's greatness ; and the more 
We work on all respects of kind and virtue. 
The more our service to the King seems great. 
In sparing no good that seems bad to him : 
And the more bad we make the most of good, 140 

The more our pohcy searcheth, and our service 
Is wonder'd at for wisdom and sincereness. 
'Tis easy to make good suspected still, 
Where good and God are made but cloaks for ill. 

Enter Henry, Monsieur, Guise, Clermont, Epemon, Soissons. 
Monsieur taking leave of the King, [whQ then goes oui\ 

See Monsieur taking now his leave for Brabant, 145 

The Guise, and his dear minion, Clermont d'Ambois, 

Whispering together, not of state affairs 

I durst lay wagers (though the Guise be now 

In chief heat of his faction), but of something 

Savouring of that which all men else despise. 

How to be truly noble, truly wise. 


Mon. See how he hangs upon the ear of Guise, 
like to his jewel. 

Ep. He's now whispering in 

Some doctrine of stability and freedom, \ 

Contempt of outward greatness, and the guises \ 155 

That vulgar great ones make their pride and zeal. 
Being only servile trains, and sumptuous houses, 
Hi|^ places, offices. 

Man, Contempt of these 

Does he read to the Guise ? 'Tis passing needful ; 
And he, I think, makes show t'affect his doctrine. 160 

Ep, Commends, admires it — 

Mon. And pursues another. 

'Tis fine hypocrisy, and cheap, and vulgar. 
Known for a covert practice, yet behev'd. 
By those abus'd souls that they teach and govern 
No more than wives* adulteries by their husbands, 165 

They bearing it with so unmov'd aspects. 
Hot coming from it, as 'twere not [at] all. 
Or made by custom nothing. This same D'Ambois 
Hath gotten such opinion of his virtues. 
Holding all learning but an art to live well, 170 

And showing he hath leam'd it in his life. 
Being thereby strong in his persuading others, "'.^' 
That this ambitious Guise, embracing him, '' 

Is thought fembrace his virtues. 

Ep. Yet in some 

His virtues are held false for th' other's vices : 175 

For 'tis more cunning held, and much more common. 
To suspect truth than falsehood : and of both 
Tznth still fares worse, as hardly being believ'd. 
As 'tis unusual and rarely known. 

Mon. Ill part engendering virtue. Men affirm 180 

Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois' spirit. 
And breathes his brother's valour, yet his temper 
Is so much past his, that you cannot move him : ? 
Ill try that temper in him. [To Guise and Qermont] Come, 

you two 
Devour each other with your virtue's zeal, 185 

And leave for other friends no fragment of ye : 
I wonder. Guise, you will thus ravish him ' ''■ '^' ' 

Out of my bosom that first gav^ the life ' ' 

manhood breathes, spirit; and means, and lustre. '"' 


What do men think of me, I pray thee» Clermont ? 190 

Once give me leave (for trial of that love 
That from thy brother Bussy thou inherit'st) 
T' unclasp thy bosom. 

Cler. As how» sir ? 

Man. Be a true glass to me, in which I may 
Behold what thoughts the many-headed beast, 195 

And thou thyself, breathes out concerning me. 
My ends, and new-upstarted state in Brabant, 
For which I now am bound, my higher aims 
Imagined here in France : speak, man, and let 
Thy words be bom as naked as thy thoughts : 200 

Oh, were brave Bussy living I 

Cler. ' Living,' my lord ? 

Man, 'Tis true thou art his brother, byt durst thou . 
Have brav'd the Guise; maugre his presence courted 
His wedded lady ; emptied even the dregs 
Of his worst thoughts of me even to my teeth ; 205 

Discem'd not me, his rising sovereign* 
From any common groom, but let me hear 
My grossest faults as gross-full as they were ? 
Durst thou do this ? 

Cler, I cannot tell : a man 

Does never know the goodness of his stomach 210 

Till he sees meat before him. Were I dar'd. 
Perhaps, as he was, I durst do like him. 

Mon. Dare then to pour out here thy freest soul 
Of what I am. 

Cler. 'Tis stale ; he told you it. 

Mon. He only jested, spake of spleen and envy; 215 

Thy soul, more learn'd, is more ingenious. 
Searching, judicial ; let me then from thee 
Hear what I am. 

Cler. What but the sole support. 

And most expectant hope of all our France, 
The toward victor of the whole Low Countries ? 220 

Mon. Tush, thou wilt sing encomions of my praise ! 
Is this like D'Ambois ? I must vex the Guise, 
Or never look to hear free truth ; tell me. 
For Bussy lives not ; he durst anger me. 
Yet, for my love, would not have fear'd to anger 225 

The King himself. Thou understand'st me, dost not ? 

Cler, I shall, my lord, with study. 


Mon, Dost understand thyself ? I pray thee tell me. 
Dost never search thy thoughts what my design 
Might be to entertain thee and thy brother, 330 

What turn I meant to serve with jrou ? 

Cl&r. Even what you please to think. 

Mon. But what think'st thou ? 

Had I no end in't, think'st ? 

Cl&r. I think you had. 

JIf on. When I took in such two as you two were, 
A ragged couple of decay'd commanders, 335 

When a French crown would plentifully serve 
To buy you both to anything i' th' eaurth. 

CUr. So it would you. 

Mon, Nay, bought you both outright. 

You, and your trunks — I fear me, I offend thee. 

Cler. No, not a jot. 

Mon. The most renowned soldier, 240 

Epaminondas (as good authors say), 
Had no more suits than backs, but you two shar'd 
But one suit 'twixt you both, when both your studies 
Were not what meat to dine with, if your partridge. 
Your snipe, your wood-cock, lark, or your red herring, 245 
But where to beg it ; whether at my house 
Or at the Guise's (for you know you were 
Ambitious beggars), or at some cook's-shop, 
T'etemize the cook's trust, and score it up. 
Does't not offend thee ? 

Cler. No, sir. Pray proceed. 250 

Mon, As for thy gentry, I dare boldly take 
Thy honourable oath : and yet some say 
Thou and thy most renowned noble brother. 
Came to the Court first in a keel of sea-coal ; 
Does't not offend thee ? ^ 

Cler. Never doubt it, sir. 255 

Mon. Why do I love thee, then ? Why have I rak'd thee 
Out of the dung-hiU, cast my cast wardrobe on thee ? 
Brought thee to Court too, as I did thy brother ? 
Made ye my saucy boon companions ? 

Taught ye to call our greatest noblemen 260 

By the corruption of their names. Jack, Tom ? 
Have I blown both for nothing to this bubble ? 
Though thou art leam'd* th'ast no enchanting wit ; 
Or were thy wit good» am I therefore bound 


To keep thee for my table ? 

Cler. Well, sir, 'twere 265 

A good knight's place. Many a proud dubb'd gallant 
Seeks out a poor knight's living from such emrods. 

[MonsJ] C^ what use else should I design thee to ? 
Perhaps you'll answer me, to be my pander. 

Clef. Perhaps I shall. 

Mon. Or did the sly Guise put thee 270 

Into my bosom t'undermine my projects ? 
I fear thee not ; for though I be not sure 
I have thy heart, I know thy brain-pan yet 
To be as empty a dull piece of wainscot 
As ever arm'd the scalp of any courtier ; 275 

A fellow only that consists of sinews, 
Mere Swisser, apt for any execution. 

Cler, But killing of the King ! 

Mon. Right ; now I see 

Thou understand'st thyself. 

Cler, Ay, and you better: 

You are a king's son bom. 

Mon. Right I 

Cler. And a king's brother. 280 

Mon. True ! 

Cler. And might not any fool have been so too. 
As well as you ? 

Mon. A pox upon you ! 

Cler. You did no princely deeds 

Ere you're bom, I take it, to deserve it ; 285 

Nor did you any since that I have heard ; 
Nor will do ever any, as all think. 

Mon, The devil take him ! I'll no more of him. 

Guise, Nay: stay, my lord, and hear him answer you. 

Mon. No more, I swear. Farewell 1 

Exeunt Monsieur, Epemon, Soissons 

Guise. No more ? 1)1 fortune I 290 

I would have given a million to have heard 
His scofis retorted, and the insolence 
/Of his high birth and greatness (which were never 
Effects of his deserts, but of his fortune) 
Made show to his dull eyes beneath the worth 295 

That men aspire to by their knowing virtues, 
M^thout which greatness is a shade, a bubble. 

Cler, But what one great man dreams of that but you ? 


All take their births and birth-rights left to them 

(Acqoiir'd by others) for their own worth's purchase, 300 

When many a fool in both is great as they : 

And who wonld think they could win with their worths 

Wealthy possessions, when, won to their hands, 

They neitiier can judge justly of their value, 

Nor know their use ? And therefore they are puffed 305 

With such proud tumours as this Monsieur is, 

Enabled only by the goods they have 

To scorn all goodness : none great fill their fortunes ; 

But as those men that make their houses greater. 

Their households being less, so Fortune raises 310 

Huge heaps of outside in these mighty men. 

And gives them nothing in them. 

Guise. True as truth : 

And therefore they had rather drown their substance 
In superfluities of bricks and stones 

(like S]S3rphus, advancing of them ever, 315 

And ever pulling down), than lay the cost 
Of any sluttish comer on a man. 
Built with God's finger, and enstyl'd his temple. 

Bal. 'Tis nobly said, my lord. 

Guise. I would have these things 

Brought upon stages, to let mighty misers 320 

See aU their grave and serious miseries i^3r'd, 
As once they were in Athens and old Rome. 

Cler. Nay, we must now have nothing brought on stages 
But puppetry, and pied ridiculous antics : 
Men thither come to laugh, and feed fool-fat, 325 

Check at all goodness there, as being profan'd : 
When, wheresoever goodness comes, she makes 
The place still sacred, though with other feet 
Never so much 'tis scandal'd and polluted. 
Let me learn anything that fits a man, 330 

In any stables shown, as well as stages. 

Bal. Why, is not all the world esteem'd a stage ? 

Clef. Yes, and right worthily ; and stages too 
Have a respect due to them, if but only. 
For what the good Greek moralist says of them : 335 

' Is a man proud of greatness, or of riches ? 
Give me an expert actor, I'U show all 
That can within his greatest glory fall 
Is a man fra3r'd with poverty and lowness ? 


Give me an actor, I'll show every eye 340 

What he laments so, and so much doth fly. 

The best and worst of both/ If but for this then, 

To make the proudest outside, that most swells 

With things without him and above his worth. 

See how small cause he has to be so blown up, 345 

And the most poor man to be griev'd with poorness^ 

Both being so easily borne by expert actors, 

The stage and actors are not so contemptful 

As every innovating Puritan, 

And ignorant sweater-out of zealous envy, 350 

Would have the world imagine. And besides 

That all things have been liken'd to the mirth 

Us'd upon stages, and for stages fltted. 

The splenative philosopher that ever 

Laugh'd at them all, were worthy the enstaging: 355 

All objects, were they ne'er so full of tears. 

He so conceited that he could distil thence 

Matter that still fed his ridiculous humour. 

Heard he a lawyer, never so vehement pleading 

He stood and laugh'd. Heard he a tradesman swearing 360 

Never so thriftily selling of his wares. 

He stood and laugh'd. Heard he an holy brother. 

For hollow ostentation, at his prayers 

Ne'er so impetuously, he stood and laugh'd. 

Saw he a great man never so insulting, 365 

Severely inflicting, gravely giving laws. 

Not for their good, but his, he stood and laugh'd. 

Saw he a youthful widow 

Never so weeping, wringing of her hands. 

For her lost lord, still the philosopher laugh'd. 370 

Now whether he suppos'd ah these presentments 

Were only maskeries, and wore false faces, 

Or else were simply vain, I taike no care ; 

But still he laugh'd, how grave soe'er they were. 

Guise, And might right well, my Clermont ; and for this 375 
Virtuous digression, we will thank the scofis 
Of vicious Monsieur. But now for the main point 
Of your late resolution for revenge 
Of your slain [brother.] 

Cler. 1 have here my challenge. 

Which I will pray my brother Baligny 380 

To bear the murtherous EarL 


Bal. I hare prep«r'd 

Means for access to him through all his guard. 

Guise, About it then, my worthy Baligny, 
And faring us the saeceas. 

Bal. I will, my Lord. EMmmi 

A Room in Montsurry's House} 
TzmyrsL sola 

Tarn. Revenge, that ever red sitt'st in the eyes 
Of injur'd ladies, till we crown thy brows 
With bloody laurel, and receive from thee 
Justice for all our [honour's] injury ; 

Whose wings none fly, that wrath or tyranny 5 

Have ruthless made and bloody, enter here, 
Enter, O enter \ And, though length of time 
Never lets any scape thy constant justice. 
Yet now prevent that length. Fly, fly, and here 
Fix thy steel footsteps : here, O here, where still 10 

Earth, mov'd with pity, yielded and embraced 
My love's fair figure, drawn in his dear blood. 
And mark'd the place, to show thee where was done 
The cruell'st murther that e'er fled the sun. 
O Earth, why Iceep'st thou not as well his spirit 15 

To give his form life ? No, that was not earthly ; 
That (rarefying the thin and yielding air) 
Flew sparkling up into the sphere of fire. 
Whence endless flames it sheds in my desire : 
Here be my daily pallet ; here all nights ^ 

That can be wrested from thy rival's arms, 
O my dear Bussy, I will lie and kiss 
Spirit into thy blood, or breathe out mine 
In sighs, and kisses, and sad tunes to thine. She sings 

Enter Montsurry 

Moni. Still on this haunt ? Still shall adulterous blood 25 
Aflect thy spirits ? Think, for shame, but this, 
This blood that cockatrice-like thus thou brood'st 
Too dry is to breed any quench to thiue. 
And therefore now (if only for thy lust 


A little cover'd with a veil of shame) 30 

Look out for fresh life, rather than witchlike 

Learn to kiss honor, and with death engender. 

Strange cross in nature, purest virgin shame 

Lies in the blood, as lust Hes; cmd together 

Many times mix too ; and in none more shameful 35 

Than in the shamefac'd. Who can then distinguish 

'Twixt their affections ,* or tell when he nUeets 

With one not common ? Yet, as worthiest pOets 

Shun common and plebeian forms of speech. 

Every illiberal and affected phrase, 40 

To clothe their matter ; and together tie 

Matter and form with art smd decency ;. ' 

So worthiest women should shun vulgar guises. 

And though they cannot but fly out for change,; 

Yet modesty, the matter of their lives^ 45 

Be it adulterate, should be painted tr^e 

With modest out-parts ; what they should do still 

Grac'd with good show, though deeds be ne'er so ill. 

Tarn, That is so far from all ye seek of us. 
That (though yourselves be common as the air) 50 

We must not take the air, we must not fit 
Our actions to our own affections : 
But as geometricians, you still say, 
Teach that no lines nor supezfldes 

Do move themselveSi but still accompany 55 

The motion? of their bodies ; so poor wives 
Must not pursue, nor have their own affections;.. 
But to their husbands' earnests, and th^ jest^» 
To their austerities of looks, and laughters 
(Though ne'er so foolish and injurious), 60 

Like parasites and slaves, fit their disposures, 

Mont, I us'd thee as my soul, to move and mle me. 

Tofn- So said you, when you woo'd. So soldiers tortor'd 
With tedious sieges of some well-wall'd town 
Propound conditions of most large contents, 65 

Freedom of laws, all f onner government ; 
But having once set foot within the walls, 
And got the reins of power into their hs^ds. 
Then do they tyrannize at their own rude sWinges, 
Seize all their goods, their liberties, and lives, 70 

And make advantage and their lusts their laws. 

Mont. But love me, and perform a wile's part yt^ 


"With all my love before I swear forgiveness. 

Tarn, Forgiveness I That grace yon should seek of me : 
These tortur'd fingers and these stabb'd-through arms 75 

Keep that law in their wounds yet, unobserved. 
And ever shall. 


MoHi. Remember their deeerts. 

Tarn. Those with fair warnings might have been reform'd. 
Not these unmanly rages. You have heard 
The fiction of the north wind and the sun, 80 

Both working on a traveller, and contending 
Which had most power to take his cloak from him : 
Which when the wind attempted, he roar'd out 
Outrageous blasts at him to force it off. 
That wrapt it closer on : when the calm sun 85 

(The wind once leaving) charged him with still beams. 
Quiet and fervent, and therein was constant. 
Which made him cast ofi both his cloak and coat ; 
Like whom should men do. If ye wish your wives 
Should leave dislik'd things, seek it not with rage, 90 

For that enrages ; what ye give, ye have : 
But use cahn warnings and kind manly means. 
And that in wives most prostitute will win 
Not only sure amends, but make us wives 
Better than those, that ne'er led faulty lives. 95 

Enter c^ Soldier 

Sold, My lord ! 

M<mt. How now ? Would any speak with me ? . 

SiM. Ay, sir. 

Mont, Perverse and traitorous miscreant. 

Where are 3rour other fellows of my guard ? 
Have I not told you I will speak with none 
But Lord Renel ? 

Sold, And 'tb he that stays you. 100 

Mont, O, is it he ? 'Tis well ; attend him in : 
I must be vigUant ; the Furies haunt me. 
Do you hear, dame ? 

Enter Renel tvith the Soldier 

lUn, [Aside to the Soldier] Be true now for your. lady's 
injur'd sake. 
Whose bounty you have so much cause to honour : 105 

For her respect is chief in this design. 


And therefore serve it ; call out of the way 
All your confederate fellows of his guard. 
Till Monsieur Baligny be enter'd here. 

Sold, Upon your honour, my lord shall be free no 

From any hurt, you say ? 

Ren. Free as myself. Watch then, and clear his entry. 

Sold. I will not fafl, my lord. 

Exit Soldier 

JRen. God save your lordship I 

Mont. My noblest Lord Rend, past all men welcome! 
Wife, welcome his lordship. 


Ren, I much joy 115 

In your return here. 

Tarn, You do more than I. 

Mont, She's passionate still, to liiink we ever parted. 
By my too stem injurious jealousy. 

Ren, 'Tis well your lordship will confers your ^ror 
In so good time yet. 

Enier Baligny with a challenge 

Mont. Death I Who have we here ? 120 

Ho 1 Ouaid 1 Villains t 

Bed. Why exclaim you so ? 

Mont. Negligent traitors 1 Murther, murther, murther 1 

Bal. Y'are mad. Had mine intent been so, like yours. 
It had been done ere this. 

Ren, Sir, your intent. 

And action, too, was rude to enter thus. 125 

Bed. Y'are a decay'd lord to tell me of rudeness. 
As much decay'd in manners as in means. 

Ren. You talk of manners, that thus rudely thrust 
Upon a man that's busy with his wife. 

Bed, And kept your lordship then the door ? 

Ren. The door ? 130 

Mont. \To Renel] Sweet lord, forbear. — Show, show 
your purpose, sir. 
To move such bold feet into others' roofs. 

Bed. This is my purpose, sir ; from Clermont d'Ambois 
I bring this challenge. 

Mont. Challenge \ I'll touch none. 

Bed. Ill leave it here then. 

Ren, Thou Shalt leave thy Hie finft. 135 


MofU. Murther, murtherl 

Ren. Retire, my lord ; get ofF. 

ITo Baligny] Hold, or thy death shall hold tliee. — Hence, 
my lord I 
Bal. There lie the challenge. 

They aU fight, and Baligny drives in Montsurry. 
Exil Montsurry 
Ren. Was not this well handled ? 

Bal. Nobly, my lord. All thanks ! 

Exit Baligny 
Tom. Ill make him read it 

Exit Tamyra 
Ren. This was a sleight well mask'd. O, what is man, 140 
Unless he be a politician ( Exit 


[A Room in the Courf] 

Henry, Baligny 

Hen. Come, Baligny, we now are private ; say. 
What service bring'st thou ? Make it short ; the Guise 
(Whose friend thou seem'st) is now in Court, and near. 
And may observe us. 

Bal. This, sir, then, in short. 

The faction of the Guise (with which my poUcy, 5 

For service to your Highness seems to join) 
Grows ripe, and must be gather'd into hold ; 
Of which my brother Clermont being a part 
Exceeding capital, deserves to have 

A capital eye on him. And, as you may 10 

With best advantage and your speediest charge. 
Command his apprehension : which (because 
The Court, you know, is strong in his defence) 
We must as^ country swinge and open fields. 
And, therefore, I have wrought him to go down 15 

To Cambrai with me (of which government 
Your Highness' bounty made me your Lieutenant) 
Where when I have him, I wiU leave my house, 
And feign some service out about the confines ; 
When in the meantime, if you please to give 20 



Command to my lieutenant, by your letters, 

To train him to some muster, where he may, 

(Much to his honour) see for him your forces 

Put into battle, when he comes, he may 

With some close stratagem be apprehended: 25 

For otherwise your whole powers there will fail 

To work his apprehension : and with that 

My hand needs never be discem'd therein. 

Hen, Thanks, honest Baligny. 

Bal. Your Highness knows 

I will be honest, and betray for you 30 

Brother and father : for, I know, my lord, 
Tteachery for kings is truest lo3ralty ; 
Nor is to bear the name of treachery. 
But grave, deep policy. All acts that seem 
111 in particular respects are good 35 

As they respect your universal rule. 
As in the main sway of the universe 
The supreme Rector's general decrees. 
To guard the migl ty globes of earth and heaven. 
Since they make good that guard to preservation 40 

Of both those in their order and first end. 
No man's particular (as he thinks) wrong 
Must hold him wrong'd ; no, not though all men's reasons. 
All law, all conscience, concludes it wrong. 
Nor is comparison a flatterer 45 

To liken you here to the King of kings ; 
Nor any man's particular offence 
Against the world's sway, to offence at yours 
In any subject ; who as little may 

Grudge at their particular wrong, if so it seem, 50 

For th' universal right of your estate : 
As, being a subject of the world's whole sway 
As well as yours, and being a righteous man 
To whom Heaven promises defence, and blessing. 
Brought to decay, disgrace, and quite defenceless, 55 

He may complain of Heaven for wrong to him. 

Hen. 'Tis true: the simile at all parts holds. 
As all good subjects hold that love our favour. 

Bal. "Which is our heaven here ; and a misery 
Incomparable, and most truly hellish, 60 

To live depriv'd of our King's grace and countenance. 
Without which best conditions are most cursed : 


Life of that nature, howsoever short. 

Is a most lingering and tedious life ; 

Or rather no life, but a languishing, 65 

And an abuse of life. 

Hen. Tis well conceited. 

Bal. I thought it not amiss to yield your Highness 
A reason of my speeches ; lest perhaps 
You might conceive I flatter'd, which, I know. 
Of all ills under heaven you most abhor. 70 

Hen. Still thou art right, my virtuous Baligny; 
For which I thank and love thee. Thy advice 
111 not forget ; haste to thy government. 
And carry D'Ambois with thee. So farewell t Exit 

Bal. Your Majesty fare ever like itself. 75 

Enter Guise 

Guise. My sure friend Baligny 1 

Bal. m Noblest of princes t 

Guise. How stands the state of Cambrai ? 

Bal. Strong, my lord. 

And fit for service : for whose readiness 
Your creature, Clermont d'Ambois, and myself 
Ride shortly down. 

Guise. That Qermont is my love ; to 

France never bred a nobler gentleman 
For all parts ; he exceeds his brother Bussy. 

Bai. Ay, my lord ? 

Guise. Far ; because, besides his valour, 

He hath the crown of man, and all his parts. 
Which learning is ; and that so true and virtuous 85 

That it gives power to do as well as say 
Whatever fits a most accomplished man ; 
Which Bussy, for his valour's season, lack'd ; 
And so was rapt with outrage oftentimes 
Beyond decorum ; where this absolute Clermont, 90 

Though (only for his natural zeal to right) 
He will be fiery, when he sees it cross'd. 
And in defence of it, yet when he lists 
He can contain that fire, as hid in embers. 

Bal. No question, he's a true, leam'd gentleman. 95 

Guise. He is as true as tides, or any star 
Is in his motion ; and for his rare learning. 
He is not (as all else are that seek knoiiiedge) 

CD.W. H 


Of taste so much deprav'd, that they had rather 

Delight, and satisfy themselves to drink lOO 

Of the stream troubled, wand 'ring ne'er so far 

From the clear fount, than of the fount itself. 

In all, Rome's Brutus is reviv'd in him, 

Whom he of industry doth imitate. 

Or rather, as great Troy^s Euphorbus was 105 

After Pythagoras ; so is Brutus, Clermont. 

And, were not Brutus a conspirator — 

Bal. * Conspirator/ my lord ? Doth that impair him ? 
Csesar began to tyrannize ; and when virtue 
Nor the religion of the gods could serve no 

To curb the insolence of his proud laws, 
Brutus would be the gods' just instrument. 
What said the Princess, sweet Antigone, 
In the grave Greek tragedian, when the question 
Twizt her and Creon is for laws of kings ? 115 

Which, when he urges, she replies on him ; 
Though his laws were a king's, they were not God's ; 
Nor would she value Creon's written laws 
With God's unwrit edicts ; since they last not 
This day, and the next, but every day and ever ; 120 

Where kings' laws alter every day and hour, 
And in that change imply a bounded power. 

Guise. Well, let us leave these vain disputings what 
Is to be done, and fall to doing something. 
When are you for your government in Cambrai ? 125 

Bal. When you command, my lord. 

Guise. Nay, that's not fit 

Continue your designments witii the King, 
With aU your service ; only, if I send. 
Respect me as your friend, and love my Qermont. 

Bal. Your Highness knows my vows. 

Guise. Ay, 'tis enough. 130 

Exit Guise. Manet Baligny 

Bal. Thus must we play on both sides, and thus hearten 
In any ill those men whose good we hate. 
Kings may do what they list, and for kings, subjects. 
Either exempt from censure or exception ; 
For, as no man's worth can be justly judg'd 135 

But when he shines in some authority, •A/tifeo>or d^ ra^rbt. 

So no authority should suffer censure &c. imiwsibie 

But by a man of more authority. estjnn copwrne 


Great vessels into less are emptied never, mefitem ae vo^ 
There's a redundance past their continent ever. ^^*^^* at*^' '^^ 
These virtuosi are the poorest cieatnres ; irai^s*Zppa^' 
For look how spinners weave out of themselves Sopho. Antig. 
Webs, whose strange matter none before can see ; 
So these, out of an unseen good in virtue. 
Make arguments of right and comfort in her, i^^ 

That clothe them like the poor web of a spinner. 

Enter Clermont 

Cler. Now, to my challenge. What's the place, the 
weapon ? 

Bal. Soft, sir ! Let first your chaUenge be received ; 
He would not touch, nor see it. 

Cler. Possible I 

How did you then ? 

Bal. Left it in his despite. 1^0 

But when he saw me enter so expectless, 
To hear his base exclaims of *murther, murther,' 
Made me think noblesse lost, in him quick buried. 

Cler, They are the breathing sepulchres of noblesse : 
No trulier noble men, than lions' pictures i^^ 

Hung up for signs, are lions. Who knows not q^ moUius 
That lions the more soft kept, are more servile ? oegunt, to 
And look how lions close kept, fed by hand, servUiut, 

Lose quite th' innative fire of spirit and greatness £pi<^t. 
That lions free breathe, foraging for prey, 160 

And grow so gross that mastifis, curs, and mongrels 
Have spirit to cow them : so our soft French nobles, 
Chain'd up in ease and numb'd security 
(Their spirits shrunk up like their covetous fists. 
And never open'd but Domitian-like» 165 

And all his base obsequious minions 
When they were catching, though it were but flies). 
Besotted with their peasants' love of gain. 
Rusting at home, and on each other preying. 
Are for their greatness but the greater slaves, 170 

And none is noble but who scrapes and saves. 

Bdl. 'Tis base, tis base I and yet they think them high. 

Cler, So children mounted on their hobby-horse 
Think they are riding, when with wanton toil 
They bear what should bear them. A man may well 175 
Compare them to those foolish greatnspleen'd camels. 


That to their high heads, begg'd of Jove horns higher ; 

Whose most uncomely and ridiculous pride 

When he had satisfied, they could not use. 

But where they went upright before, they stoop'd, i8o 

And bore their heads much lower for their horns. Simile. 

As these high men do, low in all true grace. 

Their height being privilege to all things base. 

And as the foolish poet that still writ 

All his most self-lov'd verse in paper ro3ral, 185 

Or parchment rul'd with lead, smootii'd with the pumice. 

Bound richly up, and strung with crimson strings ; 

Never so blest as when he writ and read 

The ape-lov'd issue of his brain, and never > 

But joying in himself, admiring ever : 100 

Yet in his works behold him, and he show'd 

like to a ditcher. So these painted men. 

All set on out-side, look upon within. 

And not a peasant's entrails you shall find 

More foul and measled, nor more starved of mind. 195 

Bal. That makes their bodies fat. I fain would know 
How many millions of our other nobles * 

Woidd maike one Guise. There is a true tenth Worthy, 
Who, did not one act only blemish him — 

Chr, One act ? What one ? 

Bal. One, that, though years past done, 200 

Sticks by him still, and will distain him ever. 

Cler. Good heaven, wherein ? What one act can 3^u 
Supposed his stain, that I'll not prove his lustre ? 

Bal. To satisfy you, 'twas the Massacre. 

Cler. The Massacre ? I thought 'twas some such blemish. 205 

Bal. Oh, it was heinous 

Cler. To a brutish sense. 

But not a manly reason. We so tender 
The vile part in us, that the part divine 
We see in hell, and shrink not. Who was first 
Head of that massacre ? 

Bal. The Guise. 

Cler. 'Tis nothing so. 210 

Who was in fault for all the slaughters made 
In Ilion, and about it ? Were the Greeks ? 
Was it not Paris ravishing the Queen 
Of Lacedaemon ; breach of shame and faith 


And all the laws of hospitality ? 215 

Ibis is the beastly slaughter made of men, 

When trnth is overthrown, his laws corrupted ; 

When souls are smother'd in the flatter'd flesh, 

Slain bodies are no more than oxen slain. 
Bal. Differ not men from oxen ? 
CUr. Who says so ? 220 

But see wherein ; in the understanding rules 

Of their opinions, lives, and actions ; 

In their communities of faith and reason. 

Was not the wolf that nourished Romulus 

More human than the men that did expose him ? 225 

Bal. That makes against you. 
Ckr. Not, sir, if you note 

That by that deed, the actions difference make 

Twixt men and beasts, and not their names nor forms. 

Had faith, nor shame, all hospitable rights 

Been broke by Troy, Greece had not made that slaughter. 230 

Had that been sav'd (says a philosopher) 

The Iliads and Odysseys had been lost ; 

Had faitii and true religion been preferr'd, 

Religious Guise had never massacred. 

Bal. Well, sir, I cannot when I meet with you 235 

But thus digress a little, for my learning. 
From any other business I int^d. 
But now the voyage we resolv'd for Cambrai, 
I told the Guise begins, and we must haste. 
And till the Lord Renel hath found some mean, 240 

Conspiring with the Countess, to make sure 
Your sworn wreak on her husband, though this fail'd. 
In my so brave conmiand we'll spend the time. 
Sometimes in training out in skirmishes 

And battles all our troops and companies ; 245 

And sometimes breathe your brave Scotch running horse, 
That great Guise gave you, that all th' horse in France 
Far overruns at every race and hunting 
Both of the hare and deer. You shall be honour'd 
Like the great Guise himself, above the King. 250 

And (can yon but appease your great-spleen'd sister 
For our delay'd wreak of your brother's slaughter) 
At all parts you'll be welcom'd to your wonder. 

Cler. I'll see my lord the Guise again before ^. 

We take our journey. 


Bal. O, sir, by all means ; 255 

You cannot be too careful of his love. 
That ever takes occasion to be raising 
Your virtues past the reaches of this age. 
And ranks you with the best of th' ancient Romans. 

Cler, That praise at no part moves me, but the worth 260 
Of all he can give others spher'd in him. 

Bal. He yet is thought to entertain strange aims. 

Chr. He may be well, yet not as you think strange. 
His strange aims are to cross the common custom 
Of servile nobles, in which he's so ravish'd, 26$ 

That quite the earth he leaves, and up he leaps 
On Atlas' shoulders, and from thence looks down. 
Viewing how far ofE other high ones creep ; 
Rich, poor of reason, wander ; all pale looking. 
And trembling but to think of their sure deaths, 270 

Their lives so base are, and so rank their breaths. 
Which I teach Guise to heighten, and make sweet 
With life's dear odours, a good mind and name ; 
For which he only loves me, and deserves 
My love and life, which through all deaths I vow : 275 

Resolving this, whatever change can be. 
Thou hast created, thou hast ruin'd me. 




[A Field near Camhrai] 

A march of Captains over the stage. Maillard, Chalon, Aumale 

following with Soldiers 

Mail, These troops and companies come in with wings : 
So many men, so arm'd, so gallant horse, 
I think no other government in France 
So soon could bring together. With such men 
Methinks a man might pass th' insulting pillars 5 

Of Bacchus and Alcides. 

Choi. I much wonder 

Our Lord-Lieutenant brought his brother down " 

To feast and honour him, and yet now leaves him 
At such an instance. 


Mail. Twas the King's command : 

For whom he must leave brother, wife, friend, all things. 10 

Aum, The confines of his government, whose view 
Is the pretext of his command, hath need 
Of no such sudden expedition. 

Mail, We must not argue that. The King's command 
Is need and right enough : and that he serves 15 

(As all true subjects should) without disputing. 

CAo/. But knows not he of your command to take 
His brother Clermont ? 

Mail. No : the King's will is 

Expressly to conceal his apprehension 

From my Lord Governor. Observ'd ye not ? 20 

Again peruse the letters. Both you are 
Made my assistants, and have right and trust 
In all the weighty secrets Uke myself. 

Aum, 'Tis strange a man that had, through his life past. 
So sure a foot in virtue and true knowledge 25 

As Qermont d'Ambois, should be now found tripping, 
And taken up thus, so to make his fall 
More steep and headlong. 

Mail. It is Virtue's fortune. 

To keep her low, and in her proper place ; 
Height hath no room for her. But as a man 30 

That hath a fruitful wife, and every year 
A child by her, hath every year a month 
To breathe himself, where he that gets no child 
Hath not a night's rest (if he will do well) ; 
So, let one marry this same barren Virtue, 35 

She never lets him rest, where fruitful Vice 
Spares her rich drudge, gives him in labour breath, 
Feeds him with bane, and makes him fat with death. 

Chal. I see that good lives never can secure 
Men from bad livers. Worst men will have best 40 

As ill as they, or heaven to hell they'll wrest. 

Aum. There was a merit for this, in the fault 
That Bussy made, for which he (doing penance) 
Proves that these foul adulterous guilts will run 
Through the whole blood, which not the clear can shun. 45 

Mail. I'll therefore take heed of the bastarding 
Whole innocent races; 'tis a fearful thing. 
And as I am true bachelor, I swear 
To touch no woman (to the coupling ends) 


Unless it be mine own wife, or my friend's. 50 

I may make bold with him. 

Aum. 'Tia safe and conunon. 

The more your friend dares trust, the more deceive him. 
And as through dewy vapours the sun's form 
Makes the gay rainbow girdle to a storm. 
So in hearts hollow, friendship (even the sun 55 

To all good growing in society) 
Makes his so glorious and divine name hold 
Colours for all the ill that can be told. Trumpets within. 

Mail. Hark, our last troops are come. Drums bsat 

Choi, Hark, our last foot. 

Mail. Come, let us put all quickly into battle, 60 

And send for Clermont, in whose honour all 
This martial preparation we pretend. 

Choi. We must bethink us. ere we apprehend him, 
(Besides our main strength) of some stratagem 
To make good our severe command on him, 65 

Aa well to save blood as to make him sure : 
For if he come on his Scotch horse, all France 
Put at the heels of him wOl fail to take him. 

Mail. What think you if we should disguise a brace 
Of our best soldiers in fair lackeys' coats, 70 

And send them for him, running by his side. 
Till they have brought him in some ambuscado 
We dose may lodge for him, and suddenly 
Lay sure hand on him, plucking him from horse. 

Aum, It must be sure and strong hand ; for if once 75 
He feels the touch of such a stratagem, 
'Tis not the choicest brace of all our bands 
Can manacle or quench his fiery hands. 

Mail. When they have seiz'd him, the ambush shall make in. 

Aum. Do as you please ; his blameless spirit deserves 80 

(t dare engage my life) of all this nothing. 

Chal. Why should all this stir be, then ? 

Aum. Who knows not 

The bombast Polity thrusts into his giant. 
To make his wisdom seem of size as huge. 
And all for slight encounter of a shade, 85 

So he be touch'd, he would have heinous made ? 

Mail. It may be once so, but so ever, never : 
Ambition is abroad, on foot, on horse ; 
Faction chokes every comer, street, the Court; 


Whose faction 'tis you know, and who is held 90 

The iautor's right hand ; how high his aims reach 
Nought but a crown can measure. This must fall 
Past shadows' weights, and is most capital. 

Choi, No question ; for since he is come to Cambrai, 
The malcontent, decay'd Marquess Renel 95 

Is come, and new arriv'd, and made partaker 
Of all the entertaining shows and feasts 
That welcom'd Clermont to the brave virago. 
His manly sister. Such we are esteem'd 
As are our consorts. Marquess Malcontent 100 

Comes where he knows his vein hath safest vent. 

Mail. "Let him come at his will, and go as free ; 
Let us ply Clermont, our whole charge is he. 



A Room in the Castle] 

Enter a Gentleman Usher before Clermont, Renel, Charlotte 
with two women attendants, with others : shows having 
passed within. 

Char. This for your lordship's welcome into Cambrai. 

Ren. Noblest of ladies, 'tis beyond all power 
(Were my estate at first full) in my means 
To quit or merit. 

Cler. You come something later 

Fhnn Court, my lord, than I : and since news there 5 

Is eveiy day increasing with th' affairs. 
Must I not ask now what the news is there ? 
Where the Court lies ? What stir, change, what advice 
From England, Italy ? 

Ren. You must do so. 

If you'll be call'd a gentleman well qualified, xo 

And wear your time and wits in those discourses. 

Cler. The Locrian Princes therefore were brave rulers ; 
For whosoever there came new from coimtry 
And in the city ask'd ' What news ? ' was punish'd ; 
Since commonly such brains are most delighted 15 

^^^th innovations, gossips' tales, and miaohiefH : 
But as of lions it is said, and eagles. 
That, when they go, they draw their seres and talons 
Close up, to shun rebating of their sharpness : 


So our wit's sharpness, which we should employ 20 

In noblest knowledge, we should never waste 
In vile and vulgar admirations. 

Ren, 'Tis right ; but who, save only you, performs it. 
And your great brother ? Madam, where is he ? 

Char, Gone, a day since, into the country's confines, 25 
To see their strength and readiness for service. 

Ren. 'Tis well ; his favour with the King hath made him 
Most worthily great, and live right royally. 

Cler, Ay : would he would not do so 1 Honour never 
Should be esteem'd with wise men, as the price 30 

And value of their virtuous services. 
But as their sign or badge ; for that bewrays 
More glory in the outward grace of goodness. 
Than in the good itself; and then 'tis said. 
Who more joy takes that men his good advance 35 

Than in the good itself, does it by chance. 

Char, My brother speaks all principle. What man 
Is mov'd with your soul, or hath such a thought 
In any rate of goodness ? 

Cler. 'Tis their fault. 

We have examples of it, clear and many. 40 

Demetrius Phalereus, an orator. 
And (which not oft meet) a philosopher. 
So great in Athens grew that he erected 
Three hundred statues of him ; of all which. 
No rust nor length of time corrupted one; 45 

But in his life time all were overthrown. 
And Demades (that pass'd Demosthenes 
For all extemporal orations) 
Erected many statues, which (he living) 

Were broke, and melted into chamber-pots. 50 

Many such ends have fallen on such proud honours. 
No more because the men on whom they fell 
Grew insolent and left their virtues' state. 
Than for their hugeness, that procur'd their hate : 
And tiierefore Uttie pomp in men most great 55 

Makes mightily and strongly to the guard 
Of what they win by chance or just reward. 
Great and iiomodest braveries again. 
Like statues much too high made for their bases. 
Are overtum'd as soon as given their places. 60 


Enter a Messenger with a Letter 

Mes, Here is a letter, sir, delivered me, 
Now at the fore-gate by a gentleman. 

Cler, What gentleman ? 

Mes. He would not tell his name; 

He said, he had not time enough to tell it. 
And say the little rest he had to say. 65 

Cler, That was a merry saying ; he took measure 
Of his dear time like a most thrifty husband. [Read^] 

Char, What news ? 

Cler, Strange ones, and fit for a novation ; 

Weighty, unheard of, mischievous enough. 

Ren, Heaven shield 1 What are they ? 

Cler. Read them, good my lord. 70 

Ren, [reads] 'You are betray'd into this country.' 
Monstrous 1 

Char. How's that ? 

Cler. Read on. 

Ren. * Maillard, your brother's Lieutenant, that yester- 
day invited you to see his musters, hath, letters and strict 75 
charge from the King to apprehend you.' 

Char, To apprehend him ? 

Ren. ' Your brother absents himself of purpose.' 

Cler. That's a sound one 1 

Char. That's a lie 1 80 

Ren. ' Get on your Scotch horse, and retire to your 
streng^ ; you know where it is, and there it expects you. 
Believe this as your best friend had sworn it. Fare well, if 
you will. Anonymos.' What's that ? 

Cler. Without a name. 85 

Char. And all his notice, too, without all truth. 

Cler. So I conceive it, sister : I'll not wrong 
My well-known brother for Anonymos. 

Char. Some fool hath put this trick on you, yet more 
T'uncover your defect of spirit and valour, 90 

First shown in ling'ring my dear brother's wreak. 
See what it is to give the envious world 
Advantage to diminish eminent virtue. 
Send him a challenge ? Take a noble course 
To wreak a murther done so like a villain ? 95 

Cler. Shall we revenge a villany with villany ? 

Char, Is it not equal ? 


Cler* Shall we equal be 

With villains ? Is that your reason ? 

Char, Cowardice evermore 

Flies to the shield of reason. 

Cler. Nought that is 

Approved by reason can be cowardice. loo 

Char. Dispute, when you should fight ! Wrong, wreakless 
Makes men die honourless ; one borne, another 
Leaps on our shoulders. 

Cler, We must wreak our wrongs 

So as we take not more. 

Char. One wreak'd in time 

Prevents all other. Then shines virtue most 105 

When time is found for facts ; and found, not lost. 

Cler, No time occurs to kings, much less to virtue ; 
Nor can we call it virtue that proceeds 
From vicious fury. I repent that eve^ 

(By any instigation in th' appearance no 

My brother's spirit made, as I imagin'd) 
That e'er I yielded to revenge his murther^ 
All worthy men should ever bring their blood 
To bear sdl ill, not to be wreak'd with good : 
Do ill for no ill ; never private cause 1 15 

Should take on it the part of public laws. 

Char. A D'Ambois bear in wrong so tame a spirit 1 

Ren, Madam, be sure there will be time enough 
For all the vengeance your great spirit can wish. 
The course yet taken is alloVd by all, 120 

Which being noble, and refus'd by th' Earl, 
Now makes him worthy of your worst advantage ; 
And I have cast a project with the Countess 
To watch a time when all his wariest guards 
ShaU not exempt him. Therefore give him breath ; 1 25 

Sure death delay'd is a redoubled death. 

CUr, Good sister, trouble not yourself with this ; 
Take other ladies' care ; practise your face. 
There's the chaste matron. Madam Perigot, 
Dwells not far hence ; I'll ride and send her to you. 130 

She did live by retailing maiden-heads 
In her minority ; but now she deals 
In wholesale altogether for the Court. 
I tell you, she's the only fashion-monger 


For your complexion, powdering of your hair, 
Shadows, rebatoes, wires, tires, and such tricks. 
That Cambrai, or I think, the Court affords : 
She shall attend you, sister, and with these 
Womanly practices employ your spirit; 
This other suits you not, nor fits the fashion. 
Though she be dear, lay't on, spare for no cost. 
Ladies in these have all their bounties lost. 

Ren. Madam, you see his spirit will not check 
At any single danger, when it stands 
Thus merrily firm against an host of men, 
Threaten'd to be [in] arms for his surprise. 

Char. That's a mere bugbear, an impossible mock. 
If he, and him I bound by nuptial faith. 
Had not been duU and drossy in performing 
Wreak of the dear blood of my matchless brother. 
What prince, what king, which of the desperat'st ruffians. 
Outlaws in Arden, durst have tempted thus 
One of our blood and name, be't true or false ? 

Cler. This is not caus'd by that ; 'twill be as sure 
As yet it is not, though this should be true. 

Char. True ? 'Tis past thought false. 

Cler. I suppose the worst. 

Which far I am from thinking; and despise 
The army now in battle that should act it. 

Char. I would not let my blood up to that thought. 
But it should cost the dearest blood in France. 

Cler. Sweet sister, far be both oft as the fact 
Of my feign'd apprehension. Osculatur 

Char* I would once 

Strip off my shame with my attire, and try 
If a poor woman, votist of revenge. 
Would not perform it with a precedent 
To all yoa bungling, foggy-spirited men ; 
But for our birthright's honour, do not mention 
One syllable of any word may go 
To the b^etting of an act so tender 
And full of sulphur as this letter's truth ; 
It comprehends so black a circumstance 
Not to be nam'd, that but to form one thought. 
It is, or can be so, would make me mad ; 
Come, my lord, you and I will fight this dream 
Out at the chess. 










Ij- Most gladly, worthiest lady. 175 

Exmnt Charlotte and Renel 

EmUr a Messenger 
ta^ ^ WQT Loid Governor's Lieutenant prays . /. 

^^^^ Himself alone ? 

^«^ Alone, sir. 

^ ?!». Antftd him in. Exit Messenger 

Now comes this plot to trial, 
t ^lijj^ U^s«««ni (if it be true as rare) 

Skhm^ ^!|>»^^fk9 will fly from his dissembling eyes. 180 

I U «k^^MM) his depth. 

EnUr Maillard voith the Messenger r 

MM^ Honour, and all things noble ! 

Ck9s As much to you, good Captain. What's th' affair ? 

Af (m/. Sir, the poor honour we can add to all 
YQur studied welcome to this martial place. 
In presentation of what strength consists 185 

My lord your brother's government, is ready. 
I have made all his troops and companies 
Advance and put themselves rang'd in battalia, 
That you may see both how well-arm'd they are, 
How strong is every troop and company, 190 

How ready, and how well prepar'd for service. 

Chr, And must they take me ? 

Mail, Take you, sir ? O, heaven ! [turning away] 

Mes. [Aside to Clemumf] Believe it, sir ; his count'nance 
chang'd in turning. 

Mail. What do you mean, sir ? 

Cler. If you have charg'd them. 

You being charg'd yourself, to apprehend me, 195 

Turn not your face ; throw not your looks about so. 

Mail. Pardon me, sir. You amaze me to conceive 
Ftom whence our wills to honour you should turn 
To such dishonour of my lord your brother. 
Dare I, without him, undertake your taking ? 200 

Cler. Why not, by your direct charge from the King ? 

Mail. By my charge from the King ? Would he so much 
Disgrace my lord, his own Lieutenant here. 
To give me his command without his forfeit ? 


Cler. Acts that are done by kings are not ask'd why. 205 
I'll not dispute the case, but I wiU search you. 

MaiL Search me ? For what ? 

CUr. For letters. 

Mail. I beseech you. 

Do not admit one thought of such a shame 
To a commander. 

Cler, Go to 1 I must do't. 

Stand and be search'd ; you know me. 

Mail. You forget 210 

What 'tis to be a captain, and yourself. 

Cler, Stand, or I vow to heaven, I'll make you lie. 
Never to rise more. 

Mail. If a man be mad 

Reason must bear him. 

Cler. So coy to be search'd ? 

Mail. 'Sdeath, sir 1 Use a captain like a carrier ? 215 

Cler. Come, be not furious; when I have done 
You shall make such a carrier of me, 
If't be your pleasure ; you're my friend, I know. 
And so am bold with you. 

Mail. You'U nothing find 

Where nothing is. 

Cler. Swear you have nothing. 220 

Mail. Nothing you seek, I swear : I beseech you 
Know I desir'd this out of great affection, 
To th' end my lord may know out of your witness 
His forces are not in so bad estate 

As he esteem'd them lately in your hearing : 225 

For which he would not trust me with the confines. 
But went himself to witness their estate. 

Cler. 1 heard him make that reason, and am sorry 
I had no thought of it before I made 

Thus bold with you, since 'tis such rhubarb to you. 230 

111 therefore search no more. If you are charg'd 
(By letters from the King, or otherwise) 
To apprehend me, never spice it more 
With forc'd terms of your love, but say ; I yield ; 
Hold, take my sword, here ; I forgive thee freely ; 235 

Take, do thine office. 

Mail. 'Sfoot, you make m' a hangman ; 

By all my faith to you, there's no such thing. 

Chr, Your faith to me ? »• ■ 


Mail. My faith to God ; all's one. 

Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none. 

Cler, In that sense I accept your oath, and thank you : 240 
I gave my word to go, and I will go. Exit Clermont 

Mail, I'll watch you whither. Exit Maillard 

Mes, If he goes, he proves 

How vain are men's foreknowledges of things, 
When Heaven strikes blind their powers of note and use ; 
And makes their way to ruin seem more right 245 

Than that which safety opens to their sight. 
Cassandra's prophecy had no more profit 
With Troy's blind citizens, when she foretold 
Troy's ruin ; which, succeeding, made her use 
This sacred inclamation : ' God ' (said she) 250 

' Would have me utter things uncredited : 
For which now they approve what I presag'd ; 
They count me wise that said before I rag'd.' [Exif] 

In the Camp] 

Enter Chalon with two Soldiers 

Choi, Come, soldiers, you are downwards fit for lackeys ; 
Give me your pieces, and take you these coats. 
To make you complete footmen, in whose forms 
You must be complete soldiers ; you two only 
Stand for our army. 

ist Sold. That were much. 

Choi. 'Tis true ; 5 

You two must do, or enter, what our army 
Is now in field for. 

and Sold. I see then our guerdon 

Must be the deed itself, 'twill be such honour. 

Choi. What fight soldiers most for ? 

ist Sold. Honour only. 

Choi. Yet here are crowns beside. 

Atnbo, We thank you, captain. 10 

2nd Sold. Now, sir, how show we ? 

Choi. As you should at all parts. 

Go now to Clermont d'Ambois, and inform him 
Two battles are set ready in his honour. 


And stay his presence only for their signal, 

When they shsdl join : and that t'attend him hither, 15 

Like one we so mnch honour, we have sent him — 

1st Sold. Us two in person. 

Choi. Well, sir, say it so ; 

And having brought him to the field, when I 
Fall in with him, saluting, get you both 
Of one side of his horse, and pluck him down, 20 

And I with the ambush laid will second you. 

isi Sold, Nay, we shall lay on hands of too much strength 
To need your secondings. 

2nd Sold, I hope we shall. 

Two are enough to encounter Hercules. 

Choi. 'Tis well said, worthy soldiers ; haste, and 1 iste him. 25 


A Room in the Castle] 

Enter Clermont, Maillard close following him 

Cler. [To himself]. My Scotch horse to their army— 
McdL Please you, sir ? 

Cler. 'Sdeath, you're passing diligent I 
Mail. Of my soul 

'Tis only in my love to honour you 
With what would grace the King ; but since I see 
You still sustain a jealous eye on me, 5 

I'll go before. 

Cler. 'Tis well ; 111 come ; my hand. 

Mail, Your hand, sir 1 Come, your word ; your choice 
be used. Exit 

Clermont solus 

Cler. I had an aversation to this voyage. 
When first my brother mov'd it ; and have found 
That native power in me was never vain ; 10 

Yet now neglected it. I wonder much 
At my inconstancy in these decrees, 
I every hour set down to guide my life. 
When Homer made Achilles passionate. 
Wrathful, revengeful, and insatiate 15 

C.D.W, I 


In his affections, what man will deny 

He did compose it all of industry. 

To let men see that men of most renown, 

Strong'st, noblest, fairest, if they set not down 

Decrees within them, for disposing these, 20 

Of judgment, resolution, uprightness. 

And certain knowledge of their use and ends. 

Mishap and misery no less extends 

To their destruction, with all that they priz'd. 

Than to tiie poorest, and the most despis'd. 25 

Enter Renel 

Ren, Why, how now, friend, retir'd ? Take heed you 
prove not 
Dismay'd with this strange fortune : all observe you. 
Your government's as much mark'd as the King's. 
What said a friend to Pompey ? 

Cler. What ? 

Ren, The people 

Will never know, unless in death thou try, 30 

That thou know'st how to bear adversity. 

Cler, I shall approve how vile I value fear 
Of death at all times ; but to be too rash. 
Without both will and care to shun the worst 
(It being in power to do, well and with cheer) 35 

Is stupid negligence, and worse than fear. 

Ren, Suppose this true now. 

Cler, No, I cannot do't. 

My sister truly said, there hung a tail 
Of circumstance so black on that supposure. 
That to sustain it thus abhorr'd our metal. 40 

And I can shun it too, in spite of all. 
Not going to field ; and there too, being so mounted 
As I will, since I go. 

Ren, You wUl then go ? 

Cler, I am engag'd, both in my word and hand ; 
But this is it that makes me thus retir'd 45 

To call myself t'account how this affair 
Is to be manag'd if the worst should chance; 
With which I note how dangerous it is 
For any man to press beyond the place 
To which his birtii, or means, or Imowledge ties him ; 50 


For my part, though of noble birth, my birthright 

Had little left it, and I know 'tis better. 

To live with little, and to keep within 

A man's own strength still, and in man's true end, 

Than run a mix'd course. Good and bad hold never 55 

Anything common ; you can never find 

Things' outward care, but you neglect your mind. 

Ck)d hath the whole world perfect made and free. 

His parts to th' use of th' All ; men then that [be] 

Parts of that All, must, as the general sway 60 

Of that importeth, willingly obey 

In everything without their power to change. 

He that, unpleas'd to hold his place, will range. 

Can in no other be contain'd thaf s fit. 

And so resisting th' All, is crush'd with it. 65 

Bat he, that knowing how divine a frame 

The whole world is ; and of it all, can name 

fWithout self-flattery) no part so divine 

As he himself, and therefore will confine 

Freely his whole powers in his proper part, 70 

Goes on most God-like. He that strives t'invert 

The Universal's course with his poor way, 

Not only dust-like shivers with the sway. 
But, crossing God in his great work, all earth 
BeaiB not so cursed and so damn'd a birth. — 

Ren. Go on ; I'll take no care what comes of you ; 
Heaven will not see it ill, howe'er it show : 
But the pretext to see these battles rang'd 
Is much your honour. 

Cier. As the world esteems it. 

But to decide that, you make me remember 80 

An accident of high and noble note. 
And fits the subject of my late discourse 
Of holding on our free and proper way. 
I overtook, coming from Italy, 

In Germany, a great and famous earl 85 

Of England, the most goodly-fashion'd man 
I ever saw ; from head to foot in form 
Hare and most absolute; he Lad a face 
Like one of the most ancient honour'd Romans, 
From whence his noblest family was deriv'd ; 90 

He was beside of spirit passing great. 
Valiant, and leam'd, and liberal as the sun. 



Spoke and writ sweetly, or of learned subjects, 

Or of the discipline of public weals ; 

And 'twas the Earl of Oxford ; and being offer'd 95 

At that time, by Duke Casimir, the view 

Of his right royal army then in field, 

Refused it, and no foot was mov'd to stir 

Out of his own free fore-determin'd course : 

I, wondering at it, ask'd for it his reason, 100 

It being an ofier so much for his honour. 

He, all acknowledging, said 'twas not fit 

To take those honours that one cannot quit. 

Ren. 'Twas answer'd like the man you have describ'd. 

Cler. And yet he cast it only in the way, 105 

To stay and serve the world. Nor did it fit 
His own true estimate how much it weigh'd. 
For he despis'd it ; and esteem'd it freer 
To keep his own way straight, and swore that he 
Had rather make away his whole estate no 

In things that cross'd the vulgar, than he would 
Be frozen up stiff (like a Sir John Smith, 
His countryman) in common nobles' fashions, 
Affecting, as the end of noblesse were. 
Those servile observations. 

Ren. It was strange. 115 

Cler. O, 'tis a vexing sight to see a man. 
Out of his way, stalk proud as he were in ; 
Out of his way to be officious. 
Observant, wary, serious, and grave. 

Fearful, and passionate, insulting, raging, X2o 

Labour with iron flails to thresh down feathers 
Flitting in air. 

Ren, What one considers this. 

Of all that are thus out, or once endeavours. 
Erring, to enter on man's right-hand path ? 

Cler. These are too grave for brave wits ; give them toys ; 125 
Labour bestow'd on these is harsh and thriftiess. 
If you would Consul be (says one) of Rome, 
You must be watching, starting out of sleeps ; 
Every way whisking ; glorifying Plebeians ; 
Kissing Patricians' hands, rot at their doors ; 130 

Speak and do basely ; every day bestow 
Gifts and observance upon one or other : 
And what's th' event chE all ? Twelve rods before thee : 


Hiree or four times sit for the whole tribunal ; 

Exhibit Carcene games ; make public feasts ; 135 

And for these idle outward things (sa3rs he) 

Would'st thou lay on such cost, toil, spend thy spirits ? 

And to be void of perturbation. 

For constancy, sleep when thou would'st have sleep. 

Wake when thou would'st wake, fear nought, vex for nought, 140 

No pains wilt thou bestow, no cost, no thought ? 

Ren, What should I say ? As good consort with you 
As with an angel ; I could hear you ever. 

Cler, Well, in, my lord, and spend time with my sister, 
And keep her from the field with all endeavour ; 145 

The soldiers love her so, and she so madly 
Would take my apprehension, if it chance, 
That blood would flow in rivers. 

Bsn. Heaven forbid 1 

And all with honour your arrival speed 1 E»it 

Enter Messenger unth two Soldiers like lackeys 

Mes. Here are two lackeys, sir, have message to you. 150 

Cler, What is your message, and from whom, my 
friends ? 

1st Sold, From the Lieutenant, Colonel, and the Captains ; 
Who sent us to inform you that the battles 
Stand ready rang'd, expecting but your presence 
To be their honoured signal when to join, 155 

And we are charg'd to run by, and attend you. 

Cler. I come. I pray you see my running horse 
Brought to the back-gate to me. 

Mes, Instantly. 

Exit Messenger. 

Cler. Chance what can chance me, well or ill is equal 
In my acceptance, since I joy in neither, x6o 

But go with sway of all the world together. 
In all successes Fortune and the day 
To me alike are ; I am fix'd, be she 
Never so fickle ; and will there repose. 

Far past the reach of any die she throws. 165 

Exit cum Pedisequis 




[A Field near CemibrM] 

Alarum within : txcursions ovtr tM» Stage 

The [Soldiers disguised like} Lackejrs running, Maillard following 

Mail. Villains, not hold him when ye had him down I 
1st Lackey. Who can hold lightning ? 'Sdeath, a man as 
Might catch a cannon-bullet in his montii, 
And spit it in your hands, as take and hold him. 

Mail. Pursue, enclose him I Stand or fall on him, 5 

And ye may take him. 'Sdeath, tiiey make him gaards I 

Exit [with the Lacheys] 

Alarum sHU. and enter Chalon [with two Soldiers] 

Choi. Stand, cowards, stand, strike, send }n}nr 

ballets at him I 
istSold. We came to entertain him, sir, for honour. 
2nd Sold. Did ye not say so ? 

Chal. Slaves, he is a traitor t 

Conmiand the horse troops to over-run the traitor. 10 


" 4m stiil, and chambers shot off. Then 
enter Aumale 
t breathes thus in this more than man, 
issess'd, and in a stoim 
9 field like autumn leaves ? 
ning in the lackeys' hands, 
ndden violent twitch unhors'd him, 15 
imself, their saucy fingers 
as he had been fire, 
ade in, through all whose force, 
rce and fire-given cannon 
■mit out amcmgst them. 30 

two half-moons enclos'd him, 
as if he were the light, 
who wond'ring what he was, 
ams, and gave him glorious pass: 


And as a great shot from a town besieg'd 25 

At foes before it flies forth black and roaring, 

But they too fax, and that with weight oppressed, 

(As if disdaining earth) doth only graze. 

Strike earth, and up again into the air ; 

Again sinks to it, and again doth rise, 30 

And keeps such strength that when it softliest moves. 

It piecemeal shivers any let it proves: 

So flew brave Clermont forth, till breath forsook him, 

Then fell to earth ; and yet (sweet man) even then 

His spirit's convulsions made him bound again 35 

Past all their reaches ; till, all motion spent. 

His fix'd eyes cast a blaze of such disdain. 

All stood and star'd, and untouch'd let him lie. 

As something sacred fallen out of the sky. 

A cry within 

now some rude hand hath laid hold on him I 40 

Enter Maillard, Chalon leading Clermont, Captains and 

Soldiers foUowing 

See prisoner led, with his bands honour'd more 
Than all the freedom he enjoy'd before. 

Mail, At length we have you, sir. 

Cler, You have much joy too ; 

1 made you sport yet; but I pray you tell me. 
Are not you perjur'd ? 

Mail, No ; I swore for the King. 45 

Cler. Yet perjury, I hope, is perjury. ' 

Mail, But thus forswearing is not perjury. 
You are no politician : not a fault. 
How foul soever, done for private ends. 

Is taxAt in us sworn to the public good : 50 

We never can be of the damned crew. 
We may impolitic ourselves (as 'twere) 
Into the kingdom's body politic, 
Whereof indeed we're members ; you miss terms. 

Cler. The things are yet the same. 55 

Mail, 'Tis nothing so ; the property is alter'd ; 
Y'are no lawyer. Or say that oath and oath 
Are still the same in number, yet their species 
Difler extremely, as, for flat example, 
When politic widows try men for their turn, ^ 


Before they wed them, they are harlots then, 
But when they wed them, they are honest women ; 
So private men, when they forswear, betray. 
Are perjur'd treachers, but being public once. 
That is, sworn, married, to the public good — 65 

Cler, Are married women public ? 
Mail, Public good ; 

For marriage makes them, being the public good, 
And could not be without them. So I say 
Men public, that is, being sworn or married 
To the good public, being one body made 70 

With the realm's body politic, are no more 
Private, nor can be perjur'd, though forsworn. 
More than a widow, married for the act 
Of generation, is for that an harlot. 

Because for that she was so, being immarried : 75 

An argument a paribus, 

Chal. 'Tis a shrewd one. 

Cler. * Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none ' : 
Retain you that, sir ? Who said so ? 
Mail. 'Twas I. 

Cler. Thy own tongue damn thy infidelity ! 
But, captains all, you know me nobly bom, 80 

Use ye t'assault such men as I with lackeys ? 
Chal. They are no lackeys, sir, but soldiers 
Disguis'd in lackeys' coats. 

1st Sold. Sir, we have seen the enemy. 

Cler. Avaunt, ye rascals ! Hence t 
Mail. Now leave your coats. 

Cler. Let me not see them more. 85 

Aum. I grieve that virtue lives so undistinguish'd 
From vice in any ill, and though the crown 
Of sovereign law, she should be yet her footstool. 
Subject to censure, all the shame and pain 
Of all her rigour. 

Cler. Yet false policy 90 

Would cover aU, being like offenders hid, 
That (after notice taken where they hide) 
The more they crouch and stir, the more are spied. 
Aum. I wonder how this chanc'd you. 
Cler. Some informer. 

Bloodhound to mischief, usher to the hangman, 95 

Thirsty of honour for some huge state act. 


Perceiving me great with the worthy Guise, 

And he (I know not why) held dangjerous, 

Made me the desperate organ of his danger. 

Only with that poor colour : 'tis the common loo 

And more than whore-like trick of treachery 

And vermia bred to rapine and to rwn : 

For which this fault is still to be accus'd. 

Since good acts fail, crafts and deceits are us'd. 

If it be other, never pity me. 105 

Aum. Sir, we are glad, believe it, and have hope. 
The King will so conceit it. 

Cler. At his pleasure. 

In meantime, what's your will. Lord Lieutenant ? 

MaiL To leave your own horse, and to mount the trum- 
pet 's. 

CUr, It shaU be done. This heavily prevents no 

My purpos'd recreation in these parts ; 
Which now I think on, let me beg you, sir. 
To lend me some one captain of your troops 
To bear the message of my hapless service 
And misery to my most noble mistress, 115 

Countess of Cambrai ; to whose house this night 
I promis'd my repair, and know most truly, 
With all the ceremonies of her favour, 
She sure expects me. 

Mail. Think you now on that ? 

Cler, On that, sir ? Ay, and that so worthily, 120 

That if the King, in spite of your great service. 
Would send me instant promise of enlargement. 
Condition I would set this message by, 
I would not take it, but had rather die!. 

Aum, Your message shall be done, sir ; I myself 125 

Will be for you a messenger of HI. 

Cler, I thank you, sir, and doubt not yet to live 
To quite your kindness. 

Aum. Mean space use your spirit 

And knowledge for the cheerful patience 
Of this so strange and sudden consequence. 130 

Cler, Good sir, beUeve that no particular torture 
Can force me from my glad obedience 
To anything the high and general Cause 
To match with his whole fabric hath ordain'd : 
And know ye all (though fax from all your aims 135 


Yet worth them all, and all men's endless studies) 

That in this one thing, all the discipline 

Of manners and of manhood is contain'd : 

A man to join himself with th' Universe 

In his main sway, and make (in all things fit) 140 

One with that All, and go on romid as it ; 

Not plucking from the whole his wretched part. 

And into straits, or into nought revert, 

Wishing the complete Universe might be 

Subject to such a rag of it as he ; 1 45 

But to consider great Necessity 

All things as well refract as voluntary 

Reduceth to the prime celestial cause ; 

Which he that yields to with a man's applause, 

And cheek by dieek goes, crossing it no breath, 150 

But, like God's image, follows to the death. 

That man is truly wise, and everything 

(Each cause, and every part distinguishing) 

In nature with enough art understands. 

And that full glory merits at all hands, 155 

That doth the whole woild at all parts adorn. 

And appertains to one celestial bom. E^feunt omnes 


A Roam in the Couii] 

EfU&r Baligny, Renel 

Bal. So foul a scandal never man sustain'd. 
Which, caus'd by th' King, is rude and tyrannous : 
Give me a place, and my Lieutenant make 
The fiUer of it ! 

Ren. 1 should never look 

For better of him ; never trust a man 5 

For any justice, that is rapt with pleasure ; 
To order arms well, that makes smocks his ensigns 
And his whole government's sails : you heard of late, 
He had the four and twenty ways of venery 
Done all before him. 

Bal. 'Twas abhorr'd and beastiy. 10 

R0n. 'Tis more than Nature's mighty hand can do 
To make one human and a lecher too. 


Look how a wolf dotii like a dog appear. 

So like a Mend is an adulterer : 

Vdlnptnaries, and these belly-gods, 15 

No more true men are than so many toads. 

A good man happy, is a common good ; 

Vae men advanc'd live of the common blood. 

Bal. Give and then take, like children I 

Ren. Bounties are 

As soon repented as they happen rare. 20 

Bal. What should IdxigB do, and men of eminent places. 
But, as they gather, sow gifts to the Graces ? 
And where they have given, rather give again, 
(Being given for virtue) than like babes and fools, 
Take and repent gifts ? Why are wealth and power ? 25 

Ren. Power and wealth move to tyranny, not bounty ; 
The merchant for his wealth is swoln in mind» 
When yet the chief lord of it is the wind. 

Bal. That may so chance to our state-merchants too ; 
Something perform-d, that hath not far to go. 30 

Ren. That's the main point, my lord ; insist on that. 

Bal. But doth this fire rage further ? Hath it taken 
The tender tinder of my wife's sere blood ? 
Is she so pasaionata ? 

Ren. So wild, so mad. 

She cannot live, and tins unwreak'd sustain. 35 

The woes are bloody that in women reign. 
The SicOe gulf keeps fear in less degree ; 
There is no tiger not more tame than she. 

Bal. There is no looking home, then ? 

Ren. Home ! Medea 

With all her herbs, charms, thunders, lightnings, 40 

Made not her presence and black haunts more dreadful. 

Bal. Come to the King; if he reform not all, 
Mark the event, none stand where that must fall. ExeueU 


A Room in the House of the Countess of Cambrai]. 

Enter Countess, Riova, and an Usher 

Ush. Madam, a captain come from Qennont d'Ambois 
Desires access to you. 


Count. And not himself ? 

Ush, No, madam. 

Count. That's not well. Attend him in. 

The last hour of his promise now run out, Exit Usher 
And he break ? Some brack's in the frame of nature 5 

That forceth his breach. 

Enter Usher and Aumale 

Aum. Save your ladyship 1 

Count, All welcome ! Come you from my worthy servant ? 

Aum. Ay, madam ; and confer such news from him — 

Count. Such news ? What news ? 

Aum. News that I wish, some other had the charge of. 10 

Count. Oh, what charge ? What news ? 

Aum. Your ladyship must use some patience 
Or else I cannot do him that desire 
He urg'd with such affection to your graces. 

Count. Do it, for heaven's love do itl If you serve 15 
His kind desires, I wiU have patience. 
Is he in health ? 

Aum. He is. 

Count. Why, that's the ground 

Of all the good estate we hold in earth ; 
All our ill built upon that is no more 
Than we may bear, and should ; express it all. 20 

Aum. Madam, 'tis only this ; his liberty — 

Count. His liberty t Without that, health is nothing. 
Why live I, but to ask, in doubt of that, 
Is that bereft him ? 

Aum. Youll again prevent me. 

Count. No more, I swear ; I must hear, and together 25 
Come all my misery ! I'll hold though I burst. | 

Aum. Then, madam, thus it fares. He was invited. 
By way of honour to him, to take view 
Of all the powers his brother Baligny 

Hath in his government; which rang'd in battles, 30 

Maillard, Lieutenant to the Governor, 
Having receiv'd strict lettez^ from the King 
To train him to the musters, and betray him 
To their surprise, which, with Chalon in chief. 
And other captains (all the field put hard 35 

By his incredible valour for his scape) 


They haplessly and guiltlessly perform'd. 
And to Bastile he's now led prisoner. 

Count. What change is here I How are my hopes prevented ! 
O my most faithful servant, thou betray'd I 40 

Will kings make treason lawful ? Is society 
(To keep which only kings were first ordain'd) 
Less broke in brealdng faith 'twixt frigid and friend. 
Than 'twixt the king and subject ? Let them fear. 
Kings' precedents in licence lack no danger. 45 

Kings are compar'd to gods, and should be Hke them, 
Full in all right, in nought superfluous. 
Nor nothing straining past right for their right : 
Keign justly and reign safely. Policy 

Is but a guard corrupted, and a way 50 

Ventur'd in deserts, without guide or path. 
Kings punish subjects' errors with their own. 
Kings are like archers, and their subjects, shafts : 
For as when archers let their arrows fly. 
They call to them,|(and bid them fly or fall, 55 

As if 'twere in the free power of the shaft 
To fly or faU, when only 'tis the strength. 
Straight shooting, compass, given it by the archer, 
That makes it hit or miss ; and doing either, f^ 

He's to be prais'd or blam'd, and not the shaft : 60 

So kings to subjects crying, ' Do, do not this ', 
Must to them by their own examples' strength, 
The straightness of their acts, and equal compass, < 

Give subjects power f obey them in the like ; 
Not shoot them forth with faulty aim and strength, 65 

And lay the fault in them for flying amiss. 

Aunt. But, for your servant, I dare swear him guiltless. 

Cotm/. He would not for his kingdom traitor be ; 
His laws are not so true to him as he. 

O knew I how to free him, by way forc'd 70 

Through all their army, I would fly, and do it: 
And had I of my courage and resolve 
But ten such more, they should not all retain him ; 
But I will never die before I give 

Biaillard an hundred siashes^with a sword, 75 

ChaloQ an hundred breaches with a pistol. 
They could not all have taken Clermont d'Ambois 
Wiliiout their treachery ; he had bought his bands out 
With their slave bloods ; but he was credulous ; 


He would believe, since he would be believ'd ; 80 

Your noblest natures are most credulous. 

Who gives no trust, all trust ia apt to break ; 

Hate like hell-mouth who think not what they speak. 

Aum, Well, madam, I must tender my attendance 
On him again. Will't please you to return 85 

No service to him by me ? 

Count, Fetch me straight 

My Uttle cabinet. {Exit Ancilla) Tis Uttle, tell him, 
And much too little for his matchless love : 
But as in him the worths of many men 

Are close contracted (Intrat Ancilla), so in this are jewels 90 
Worth many cabinets. Here, with this (good sir). 
Commend my kindest service to my servant. 
Thank him, with all my comforts, and, in them 
With all my life for them : all sent from him 
In his remembrance of me, and true love ; 95 

And look you tell him, tell him how I lie 

She kneels down at his feet 
Prostrate at feet of his accurs'd misfortune, 
Pouring my tears out, which shall ever fall 
Till I have pour'd for him out eyes and all. 

Aum, O, madam, this will kiU him : comfort you 100 

With fuU assurance of his quick acquittal : 
Be not so passionate : rise, cease your tears. 

Count, Then must my life cease. Tears are all the vent 
My life hath to scape death. Tears please me better 
Than all life's comforts, being the natural seed 105 

Of hearty sorrow. As a tree fruit bears. 
So doth an undissembled sorrow tears. 

He raises her, and leads her out. Exeunt 

Ush. This might have been before, and sav'd much charge. 


A Room in the Court] 

Enter Henry, Guise, Baligny, Epemon, Soissons, Perricot with 

pen, ink, and paper 

Guise. Now, sir, I hope your much abus'd eyes see. 
In my word for my Qermont, what a villain 


He was that whisper'd in your jealous ear 

His own black treason in suggesting Clermont's, 

Coloured with nothing but being great with me. 5 

Sign then this writ for his delivery ; 

Your hand was never urg'd with worthier boldness : 

Come, pray, sir, sign it : why should kings be pray'd 

To acts of justice ? 'Tis a reverence 

Makes them despis'd, and shows they stick and tire 10 

In what their free powers should be hot as fire. 

Hen, Well, take your will, sir; — I'll have mine ere 
long. — A versus 

But wherein is this Clermont such a rare one ? 

Guise. In his most gentle and imwearied mind 
Rightly to virtue fram'd, in very nature, 15 

In his most firm inexorable spirit 
To be remov'd from anything he chooseth 
For worthiness, or bear the least persuasion 
To what is base, or fitteth not his object. 
In his contempt of riches and of greatness, 20 

In estimation of th'idolatrous vulgar. 
His scorn of all things servile and ignoble. 
Though they could gain him never such advancement. 
His liberal kind of speaking what is truth 
In spite of temporizing, the great rising 25 

And learning of his soul, so much the more 
Against ill Fortune, as she set herself 
Sharp against him, or would present most hard ^ 

To sdinn the malice of her deadliest charge ; 
His detestation of his special friends, 30 

When he perceiv'd their tyrannous will to do, 
Or their abjection basely to sustain 
Any injustice that they could revenge ; 
The flexibility of his most anger. 

Even in the main career and fury of it, 35 

When any object of desertful pity 
Oflers itself to him; his sweet disposure. 
As mnch abhorring to behold as do 
Any nnnatnial and bloody action ; 

His just contempt of jesters, parasites, 40 

Servile observers, and polluted tongues : 
In short, this Senecal man is found in him,. 
He may with heaven's immortal powers compare. 
To whom the day and fortune equal are ; 


Come fair or foul, whatever chance can fall» 45 

Fix'd in himself, he still is one to all. 

Hen. Shows he to others thus ? 

Omnes. To all that know him. 

Hen. And apprehend I this man for a traitor ? 

Guise. These are your Machiavellian villains. 
Your bastard Teucers, that, their mischiefs done, 50 

Run to your shield for shelter, Cacusses 
That cut their too large murtherous thieveries 
To their dens' length still : woe be to that state 
Where treachery guards, and ruin makes men great I 

Hen, Go, take my letters for him, and release him. 55 

Omnes. Thanks to your Highness ! Ever live your High- 
ness ! Exeunt [all hut Baligny] 

Bal. Better a man were buried quick, than live 
A property for state, and spoil to ttirive Exit 


On the Road to Paris] 
Enter Clermont, Maillard, Chalon, with Soldiers 

Mail. We joy you take a chance so ill, so well. 

Cler. Who ever saw me difEer in acceptance 
Of either fortune ? 

Choi. What, love bad like good ! 

How should one learn that ? 

Clef. To love nothing outward. 

Or not within our own powers to command ; 5 

And so being sure of everything we love. 
Who cares to lose the rest? If any man 
Would neither live nor die in his free choice. 
But as he sees necessity will have it 

(Which if he would resist, he strives in vain) 10 

What can come near him, that he doth not [will,] 
And if in worst events his will be done. 
How can the best be better ? All is one. 

Mail. Methinks 'tis pretty. 

Clef. Put no difference 

If you have this, or not this ; but as children 1 5 

Playing at quoits, ever regard their game. 
And care not for their quoits, so let a man 


The things themselves that touch him not esteem, 
Bnt his free power in well disposing them. 

Choi. Pretty, from toys I 

Cler. Methinks this double distich 20 

Seems prettily too to stay superfluous longings : 
' Not to have want, what riches doth exceed ? 
Not to be subject, what superior thing ? 
He that to nought aspires, doth nothing need ; 
Who breaks no law is subject to no king'. 25 

Mail. This goes to mine ear well, I promise you. 

Choi, O, but 'tis passing hard to stay one thus. 

Cler. 'Tis so ; rank custom raps men so beyond it ; 
And as 'tis hard so well men's doors to bar 
To keep the cat out, and th' adulterer ; 30 

So 'tis as hard to curb afiections so 
We let in nought to make them overflow. 
And as of Homer's verses many critic^ 
On those stand, of which Time's old moth hath eaten 
The first or last feet, and the perfect paxts 35 

Of his unmatched poem sink beneath. 
With upright gasping and sloth dull as death : 
So the unprofitable things of life. 
And those we cannot compass, we aflect ; 
All that doth profit, and we have, neglect; 40 

Like covetous and basely getting men. 
That, gathering much, use never what they keep ; 
But for the least they lose, extremely weep. 

Mail. This pretty talking, and our horses walking 
Down this steep hill, spends time with equal profit. 45 

Cler. 'Tis well bestow'd on ye ; meat and men sick 
Agree like this and you : and yet even this 
Is th' end of all skill, power, wealth, all that is. 

Choi. I long to hear, sir, how your mistress takes this. 

Enter Aumale with a cabinet 

Mail. We soon diall know it ; see Aumale retom'd 50 

Aum. Ease to your bands, sir! 

Cler. Welcome, worthy friend t 

Choi. How took his noblest mistress your sad message ? 

Aum. As great rich men take sudden poverty. 
I never witness'd a moce noble love. 

Nor a more ruthful sorrow: I well wi^M 55 

Some other had been master of my message. 

C.D.W« K 


Mail, Y'Jare happy, sir, in all things, but this one 
Of your unhappy apprehension. 

Chf. This is to me, compared with her much moan, 
As one tear is to her whole passion. 60 

Aum, Sir, she commends her kindest service to you, 
And this rich cabinet. 

Chcd, O happy man ! 

This may enough hold to redeem your bands. 

Chf. These clouds, I doubt not, will be soon blown over. 

Enter Baligny with his discharge, Renel, and others 

Aum. Your hope is just and happy ; see, sir, both, 65 
In both the looks of these. 

Bal. Here's a discharge 

For this your prisoner, my good Lord Lieutenant. 

Mat'/. Alas, sir I I usurp that style, enforced. 
And hope you know it was not my aspiring. 

Bal. Well, sir, my wrong aspir'd past all men's hopes. 70 

Mail. I sorrow for it, sir. 

Ren. You see, sir, there 

Your prisoner's discharge autentical. 

Mail. It is, sir, and I yield it him with gladness. 

Bal. Brother, I brought you down to much good purpose. 

Cler. Repeat not that, sir ; the amends makes all. 75 

Ren. I joy in it, my best and worthiest friend ; 

y'have a princely fautor of the Gtiise. 
Bal. I think I did my part too. 

Ren Well, sir, all 

Is in the issue well : and, worthiest friend. 
Here's from your friend, the Guise ; here from the Countess, 
Your brother's mistress, [giving letters], the contents whereof 80 

1 know, and must prepare you now to please 
Th' unrested spirit of your slaughter'd brother. 
If it be true, as you imagin'd once 

His apparition show'd it ; the complot 85 

Is now laid sure betwixt us; therefore haste 

Both to your great friend (who hath some use weighty 

For your repair to him) and to the Countess, 

Whose satisfaction is no less important. 

Cler. I see all, and will haste as it importeth ; 90 

And, good friend, since I must delay a little 
My wish'd attendance on my noblest mistress. 
Excuse me to her, with return of this. 


And endless protestation of my service ; 

And now become as glad a messenger 95 

As you were late a wofol. 

Aum. Happy change ! 

I ever will salute thee with my service. Exit 

Bal, Yet more news, brother ; the late jesting Monsieur 
Makes now your brother's dying prophecy equal 
At all parts, being dead as he presag'd. xoo 

Ren. Heaven shield the Guise from seconding that truth, 
With what he hkewise prophesied on him. 

(^er. It hath enough, 'twas grac'd with truth in one ; 
To th' other ^dsehood and confusion ! 
Lead to th' Court, sir. 

Bal. You I'll lead no more, X05 

It was too ominous and foul before. Exewti 



[A Room in the House of Guise] 

Ascendii Umbra Busty 

Umb. Up from the chaos of eternal night. 
(To which the whole digestion of the world 
Is now returning) once more I ascend. 
And bide the cold. damp of this piercing air. 
To urge the justice whose ahnighty word 5 

Measures the bloody acts of impious men 
With equal penance, who in th' act itself 
Includes th' infliction, which like duuned shot 
Batter together still ; though as the thunder 
Seems, by men's duller hearing than their sight, xo 

To break a great time after lightning forth. 
Yet both at one time tear the labouring cloud. 
So men think penance of their ills is slow, 
Though th' ill and penance still together go. 
Reform, ye ignorant men, your manless lives, 15 

Whose laws ye think are nothing but your lusts. 
When leaving but for supposition' sake 
The body of felicity, religion 
(Set in the midst of Christendom, and her head 
Cleft to her bosom, one half one way swayiug, 20 

Another th' other), all the Christian world 



And all her laws, whose observation 

Stands upon faith, above the power of reason — 

Leaving (I say) all these, this might suffice 

To fray ye from your vicious swinge in ill, 25 

And set you more on fire to do more good, 

That since the wozld (as which of you denies ?) 

Stands by proportion, all may thence conclude 

That all the joints and nerves sustaining nature 

As well may breaks and yet the world abide, 30 

As any one good unrewarded die. 

Or any o^e ill scape his penalty. The Ghost stands doss 

Enter Guise, Clermont 

Guise. Thus (friend) thou seest how all good men would 
Did not the good thou prompt'st me with prevent 
The jealous ill pursuing them in others. 35 

But now thy dangers are dispatch'd, note mine : 
Hast thou not heard of that admired voice 
That at the barricadoes spake to me 
(No person seen), ' Lef s lead my lord to Rheims ' ? 

Cler. Nor could you learn the person ? 

Guise, By no means. 40 

Cler, Twas but your fancy, then, a waldng dream : 
For as in sleep, which binds both th' outward senses. 
And the sense common too, th' imagining power 
(Stirr'd up by forms hid in the memory's store. 
Or by the vapours of o'erflowing humours 45 

In bodies full and foul, and mix'd with spirits) 
Feigns many strange, miraculous images. 
In which act it so painfully applies 
Itself to those forms that the common sense 
It actuates with his motion, and thereby 50 

Those fictions true seem, and have real act : 
So, in the strength of our conceits awake. 
The cause alike doth [oft] like fictions make. 

Guise, Be what it will, 'twas a presage of something 
Weighty and secret, wliich th' advertisements 55 

I have receiv'd from all parts, both without 
And in this kingdom, as from Rome and Spain, 
[Lorraine] and Savoy, gives me cause to think. 
All writing that our plot* s catastrophe, 
For propagation of the Catholic cause, 60 



Will bloody prove, dissolving all our counsels. 

Cler. Retire, then, from them all. 

Guise. I must not do so. 

The Archbishop of Lyons tells me plain 
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) soon would let that fall, 
That all my pains did to this height exhale. 

Cier. Let all fall that would rise unlawfully : 
Make not your forward spirit in virtue's right 70 

A property for vice, by thrusting on 
Further than all your powers can fetch you off. 
It is enough, your will is infinite 
To all things virtuous and religious. 

Which, within limits kept, may without dangbr 75 

Let virtue some good from your graces gather. 
Avarice of all is ever nothing's father. 

Ufpib. [advancing] Danger (the spur of all great minds) 
is ever 
The curb to your tame spirits ; you respect not 
(WUh all your holiness of life and learning) 80 

More than the present, like illiterate vulgars ; 
Your mind (you say) kept in your fiesh's botmds, 
Shows that man's will must ruVd be by his power : 
When (by true doctrine) you are taught to live 
Rather without the body than within, 85 

And rather to your God stiU than yourself ; 
To live to Him, is to do all things fitting 
His image, in which, like Himself, we live ; 
To be His image is to do those things 

That make us deathless, which by death is only 90 

Doing those deeds that fit eternity ; 
And tiioee deeds are the perfecting that justice 
That makes the world last, which proportion is 
Of punishment and wreak for every wrong, 
As well as for right a reward as strong. 95 

Away, then ! Use the meand thou hast to right 
The wrong I sufFer'd. What corrupted law 
Leaves unperform'd in kings, do thou supply, 
And be above them all in dignity. Exit 

Guise. Why stand'st thou still thus, and apply'st thine ears 100 
And eyee to nothing ? 


Chr, Saw you nothing here ? 

Guise. Thou dream'st awake now ; what was here to see ? 

Chr. My brother's spirit, urging his revenge. 

Guise. Thy brother's spirit ! Pray thee mock me not. 

Cler. No, by my love and service ! 

Guise. Would he rise, 105 

And not be thund'ring threats against the Guise ? 

Cler. You make amends for enmity to him 
With ten parts more love and desert of me ; 
And as you make your hate to him no let 
Of any love to me, no more bears he no 

(Since you to me supply it) hate to you. 
Which reason and which justice is performed 
In spirits ten parts more than fleshy men ; 
To whose fore-sights our acts and thoughts he open :. 
And therefore, since he saw the treachery 115 

Late practised by my brother Baligny, 
He would not honour his hand with the justice 
(As he esteems it) of his blood's revenge. 
To which my sister needs would have him sworn, 
Before she would consent to marry him. 120 

Guise. O Baligny 1 — ^Who would believe there were 
A man, that (only since his looks are. rais'd 
Upwards, and have but sacred heaven in sight) 
Could bear a mind so more than devilish 
As, for the painted g^oiy of the countenance, 125 

Flitting in kings, doth good for nought esteem. 
And the more ill he does, the better seem ? 

Cler. We easily may believe it, since we seo^ 
In this world's practice few men better be. 
Justice to live doth nought but justice need, 130 

But policy must still on mischief feed. 
Untruth, for all his ends, truth's name doth sue in ; 
None safely Uve but those that study ruin. 
A good man happy is a common good ; 
111 men advanc'd live of the common blood. 135 

Guise. But this thy brother's spirit startles me. 
These spirits seld or never haunting men 
But some mishap ensues. 

Cler. Ensue what can ; 

T3rrants may kill, but never hurt a man ; 
All to his good makes, spite of death and hell. 140 


Enter Aumale 

Aum. All the desert of good renown, your Highness 1 

Guise. Welcome, Aumale 1 

Cler. My good friend, friendly welcome 1 

How took my noblest mistress the chang'd news ? 

Aum. It came too late, sir ; for those loveliest eyes 
(Through which a soul look'd so divinely loving) 145 

Tears nothing uttering her distress enough. 
She wept quite out, and like two falling stars 
Their dearest sights quite vanished with her tears. 

Cler. All good forbid it 1 

Guise. What events are these ? 

Cler. All must be borne, my lord ; and yet this chance 150 
Would willingly enforce a man to cast ofi 
All power to bear with comfort, since he sees 
In this our comforts made our miseries. 

Guise. How strangely thou art lov'd of both the sexes ; 
Yet thou lov'st neither, but the good of both. 155 

Cler. In love of women, my affection first 
Takes fire out of the frail parts of my blood ; 
Which, till I have enjoy'd, is passionate 
Like other lovers ; but, fruition past, 

I then love out of judgment, the desert 160 

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 trial 'twixt what reason loves. 
And what affection, makes in me the best 165 

Ever preferred, what most love, valuing lest. 

Guise. Thy love being judgment then, and of the mind, 
Marry thy worthiest mistress now being blind. 

Cler. If there were love in marriage, so I would : 
But I deny that any man doth love, 170 

Affecting wives, maid, widows, any women : 
For neither flies love milk, although they drown 
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 175 

0[n] beasts or fowls, do anything therein 
For any love : for as when only Nature 
Moves men to meat, as far as her power rules. 
She doth it with a temperate appetite. 


The too much men devour abhorring Nature ; i8o 

And in our most health is our most disease ; 

So, when humanity rules men and women, 

'Tis for society confin'd in reason. 

But what excites the bed's desire in blood. 

By no means justly can be constru'd love ; 185 

For when love kindles any knowing spirit, 

It ends in virtue and effects divine, 

And is in friendship chaste and masculine. 

Guise. Thou shalt my mistress be ; methinks my blood 
Is taken up to all love with thy virtues. 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! 
Perform thy brother's thus importun'd wreak ; 195 

And I will see what great affairs the King 
Hath to employ my counsel, which he seems 
Much to desire, and more and more esteems. Exeunt 


A Room in the Court] 
Enter Henry, Baligny with sisf of the Guard 

Hen. Saw you his saucy forcing of my hand 
To D'Ambois' freedom ? 

Bal, Saw, and through mine eyes 

Let fire into my heart, that bum'd to bear 
An insolence so giantly austere. 

Hen. The more kings bear at subjects' hands, the more 5 

Their ling'ring justice gatheis, that resembles 
The weighty and the goodly-bodied eagle, 
Who (being on earth) before her shady wings 
Can raise her into air, a mighty way 

Close by the ground she runs ; but being aloft, 10 

All she commands, she flies at ; and the more 
Death in her seres bears, the more time she stays 
Her thund'ry stoop from that on which she preys. 

Bal, You must be then more secret in the weight 
Of these your shady counsels, who will else 15 

Bear (where such sparks fly as the Guise and D'Ambois} 



Powder about them. Counsels (as your entrails) 

Should be unpierc'd and sound kept ; for not those. 

Whom you discover, you neglect ; but ope 

A ruinous passage to your own best hope. 20 

Hen. We have spies set on us, as we on others ; 

And therefore they that serve us must excuse us. 

If what we most hold in our hearts take wind ; 

Deceit hath eyes that see into the mind. 

But this plot shall be quicker than their twinkling, 25 

On whose lids Fate with her dead weight shall lie, 

And Confidence that lightens ere she die. 

Ftiends of my guard, as ye gave oath to be 

True to your Sovereign, keep it manfully ; 

Your eyes have witness'd oft th' ambition 30 

That never made access to me in Guise 

But treason ever sparkled in his eyes ; 

Which if you free us of, our safety shall 

You not our subjects but our patrons call. 

Onmes. Our duties bind us ; he is now but dead. 35 

Hen. We trust in it. and thank ye. Baligny, 

Go lodge their ambush, and thou God, that art 

Fautor of princes, thunder from the skies 

Beneath his hill of pride this giant Guise. Exeunt 


A Roam in Montsurry's House] 
Enter Tamyra with a letter, Charlotte in man's attire 

Tom, I see jr'are servant, sir, to my dear sister. 
The lady of her loved Baligny. 

Char. Madam, I am bound to her virtuous bounties 
For that life which I ofEer in her service 
To the revenge of her renowned brother. 5 

Tarn. She writes to me as much, and much desires 
That yott may be the man, whose spirit she knows 
Will cut short ofE these long and dull delays 
Hitherto bribing the eternal Justice ! 

Which I believe, since her unmatched spirit 10 

Can judge of spirits that have her sulphur in them ; 
But I must tell you that I make no doubt 
Her living brother will xevenge her dead. 


Ob ^iHiom the dead impos'd the task, and he, 

I know, will come fefiect it instantly. 15 

Ckmr. They are but words in him ; believe them not. 

Tmm, See ; this is the vault where he must enter ; 
Where now I think he is. 

Enttr Rend at the vatUt, with the Countess being blind 

Ren. God save you, lady 1 

What gentleman is this, with whom you trust 
The deadly weighty secret of this hour ? 20 

Tom. One that yourself will say I well may trust. 

Ren, Then come up, madam. 

He helps the Countess up 
See here, honoured lady, 
A Countess, that in love's mishap 'doth equal 
At all parts your wrong'd self, and is the mistress 
Of your slain servant's brother ; in whose love, 25 

For his late treacherous apprehension. 
She wept her fair eyes from her ivory brows. 
And would have wept her soul out, had not I 
Promised to bring her to this mortal quarry, 
That by her lost eyes for her servant's love, 30 

She might conjure him from this stem attempt. 
In which (by a most ominous dream she had) 
She knows his death fix'd, and that never more 
Out of this place the sim shaU see him live. 

Char, I am provided, then, to take his place 35 

And undertaking on me. 

Ren. You, sir I Why ? 

Char, Since I am charg'd so by my mistress 
His mournful sister. 

Tarn, See her letter, sir. He reads 

Good madam, I rue your fate more than mine, 
And know not how to order these afEairs, 40 

They stand on such occurrents. 

Ren, This, indeed, 

I know to be your lady mistress' hand. 
And know, besides, his brother will and must 
Endure no hand in this revenge but his. 

Enter Umbra Bussy 

Utnb. Away, dispute no more ; get up and see 1 45 

Clermont must author this just tnigedy. 


Count. Who's that ? 

Ren, The spirit of Bussy. 

Tarn. O, my servant ! 

Let us embrace. 

Umb. Forbear ! The air, in which 

My figure's likeness is impressed, will blast ; 
Let my revenge for all loves satisfy, 50 

In which, dame, fear not, Clermont shall not die : 
No word dispute more ; up, and see th' event. 

Exeunt Ladies 
Make the guard sure, Renel ; and then the doors 
Command to make fast when the Earl is in. Exit Renel 
The black soft-footed hour is now on wing, 35 

Which, for my just wreak, ghosts shall celebrate 
With dances dire and of infernal state. Exit 


An Ante-room in the Palace] 
Enter Guise 

Guise. Who says that death is natural, when nature 
Is with the only thought of it dismay'd ? 
I have had lotteries set up for my death. 
And I have drawn beneatii my trencher one. 
Knit in my handkerchief another lot, 5 

The word being, ' Y'are a dead man if you enter ' ; 
And these words this imperfect blood and flesh 
Shrink at in spite of me, their solid'st part 
Melting like snow within me with cold fire : 
I hate myself, that, seeking to rule kings, 10 

I cannot curb my slave. Would any spirit, 
Free, manly, princely, wish to live to be 
Commanded by this mass of slavery, 
Since reason, judgment, resolution, 

And scorn of what we fear, will yield to fear ? 15 

While this same sink of sensuality swells. 
Who would live sinking in it, and not spring 
Up to the stars, and leave this carrion here 
For wolves and vultures, and for dogs to tear ? 
O Clermont d'Ambois, werfc thou here to chide ao 

This softness from my flesh, far as my reason. 


Fax as my resolution not to stir 

One foot out of the way, for death and hell ! 

Let my false man by falsehood perish here ; 

There's no way else to set my true man clear. 25 

Enter Messenger 

Mes, The King desires your Grace to come to Council. 

Guise. I come. It cannot be : he will not dare 
To touch me with a treachery so profane. 
Would Clermont now were here, to try how he 
Would lay about him, if this plot should be : 30 

Here would be tossing souls into the sky. 
Who ever knew blood sav'd by treachery ? 
Well, I must on, and will ; what should I fear ? 
Not against two Alcides ? Against two. 
And Hercules to friend, the Guise will go. 35 

He takes up the arras, and the Guard enters upon him : he draws 

Hold, murtherers I So then, this is confidence 

They strike him down 
In greatness, not in goodness : where is the King ? 

The King comes in sight with Epemon, Soissons, and others 

Let him appear to justify his deed 

In spite of my betiay'd wotmds, ere my soul 

Take her flight through them, and my tongue hath strength 40 

To urge his tyrsamy. 

Hen. See, sir, I am come 

To justify it before men, and God, 
Who knows with what wounds in my heart for woe 
Of your so wounded faith I made these wounds, 
Forc'd to it by an insolence of force 45 

To stir a stone ; nor is a rock, oppos'd 
To all the biUows of the churlish sea. 
More beat and eaten with them than was I 
With your ambitious mad idolatry ; 

And this blood I shed is to save the blood 50 

Of many thousands. 

Guise. That's your white pretext. 

But you will find one drop of blood shed lawless 
WiU be the fountain to a purple sea: 
The present lust and shift made for kings' lives 
Against the pure fonn and just power of law» 55 


VW, thrive like shifters' purchases; there hangs 

A black star in the skies, to which the sun 

Gives yet no light, will rain a poison'd shower 

Into your entrails, that will make you feel 

How little safety lies in treacherous steel. 60 

H&n, Well, sir, I'll bear it ; y' have a brother too, 
Bursts with like threats, the scarlet Cardinal : 
Seek, and lay hands on him ; and take this hence. 
Their bloods, for all you, on my conscience. Exit 

Guise. So, sir, your full swinge take ; mine, death hath 
curb'd. 65 

Clermont, farewell, O didst thou see but this 1 
But it is better; see by this the ice 
Broke to thine own blood, which thou wilt despise. 
When thou hear'st mine shed. Is there no friend here 
Will bear my love to him ? 

Aum. I will, my lord. 70 

Guise. Thanks with my last breath : recommend me, then. 
To the most worthy of the race of men. 

Dies. Exeunt [the guard with the body] 


A Room in Montsurry's House] 
Enter Montsurry and Tamyra 

Mont. Who have you let into my house ? 

Tom. I ? None. 

Mont. 'Tis false ; I savour the rank blood of foes 
In every comer. 

Tiun. That you may do well. 

It is the blood you lately shed you smell. 

Mont. 'Sdeath, the vault opes. The gulf opens 

Tom. What vault ? Hold your sword. 5 

Clermont ascends 

Cler. No, let him use it. 

Mont. Treason, murther, murther 1 

Cler. Exclaim not; 'tis in vain, and base in you. 
Being one to only one. 

Mont. O bloody strumpet I 

Cler. With what blood charge you her ? It may be mine 
As well as yours; there shall not any else 10 


Enter or touch you ; I confer no guards, 

Nor imitate the murtherous course you took ; 

But single here will have my former challenge 

Now answer'd single ; not a minute more 

My brother's blood shall stay for his revenge, 15 

If I can act it ; if not, mine shall add 

A double conquest to you, that alone 

Put it to fortune now, and use no odds. 

Storm not, nor beat yourseli thus 'gainst the doors, 

Like to a savage vermin in a trap ; 20 

All doors are sure made, and you cannot scape 

But by your valour. 

Mont. No, no; come and kill me. 

[Throws himself down] 

Cler. If you will die so like a beast, you shall ; 
But when the spirit of a man may save you. 
Do not so shame man, and a nobleman. 25 

Mont. 1 do not show this baseness that I fear thee. 
But to prevent and shame thy victory. 
Which of one base is base, and so I'll die. 

Cl&r, Here, then. [Offers to kill Montsurry] 

Mont, Stay, hold I One thought hath hardened me ; 

He starts up 
And since I must afford thee victory, 30 

It shall be great and brave, if one request 
Thou wilt admit me. 

Cler, What's that ? 

Mont. Give me leave 

To fetch and use the sword thy brother gave me 
When he was bravely giving up his life. 

Cler. No, I'll not fight against my brother's sword ; 35 

Not that I fear it, but since 'tis a trick 
For you to show your back. 

Mont. By all truth, no : 

Take but my honourable oath, I will not. 

Cler. Your honourable oath ! Plain truth no place has 
Where oaths are honourable. 

Tarn. Trust not his oath. 40 

He will lie like a lapwing ; when she flies 
Far from her sought nest, still * Here 'tis ', she cries. 

Mont. Out on thee, dam of devils! I will quite 
Disgrace thy brave[r'lls conquest, die, not fight. Lies down 

Tom. Out on my fortune, to wed such an abject I 45 


Now is the people's voice the voice of God ; 
He that to wound a woman vaunts so much 
(As he did me), a man dares never touch. 

CUr. Revenge your wounds now, madam ; I resign him 
Up to 3rour fuU will, since he will not fight. 50 

First you shall torture him (as he did you. 
And Justice vrills), and then pay I my vow. 
Here, take this poniard. 

Mont. Sink earth, open heaven, 

And let fall vengeance ! 

Tom. Come, sir; good sir, hold him. 

Mont. O, shame of women, whither art thou fled 1 55 

Chr. Why (good my lord). Is it a greater shame 
For her than you ? Come, I will be the bands 
You us'd to her, profaning her fair hands. 

Mont No, sir; I'll fight now, and the terror be 
Of all you champions to such as she. 60 

I did but thus far dally : now observe. 
O all you aching foreheads that have robb'd 
Your hands of weapons and your hearts of valour. 
Join in me all your rages and rebutters. 
And into dust ram this same race of furies ; 65 

In this one relic of the [D']Ambois gall, 
In his one purple soul shed, drown it all. Fight 

Now give me breath a while. 

Cler. Receive it freely. 

Mont. What think y'o' this now ? 

CUr, It is very noble. 

Had it been free, at least, and of yourself ; 70 

And thus we see (where valour most doth vaimt) 
What 'tis to make a coward valiant. 

Mont, Now I shall grace your conquest. 

Cl&r, That you shall. 

Mont. If you obtain it. 

Oler, True, sir, 'tis in fortune. 

Mont. If you were not a D'Ambois, I would scarce 75 
Change lives with you, I feel so great a change 
In my tall spirits ; breath'd, I think, with the breath 
A D'Ambois breathes here ; and Necessity 
(With whose point now prick'd on, and so, whose help 
My hands may challenge), that doth all men conquer, 80 

If she except not you of all men only, 
Biay change the case here. 


Cler, True, as you are chang'd ; 

Her power, in me urg'd, makes y'aaother man 
Than yet you ever were. 

Mont, Well, I must on. 

Cler. Your lordship must by all means. 

Mont, Then at all. 85 

Fights, and D'Ambois hurts him 

[Entev Rend, the Countess and\ Charlotte above 

Char, Death of my father, what a shame is this ! 
Stick in his hands thus ? 

Ren, [trying to stop her]. Gentle sir, forbear. 

Count. Is he not slain yet ? [Charlotte] gets down 

Ren. No, madam, but hurt 

In divers parts of him. 

Mont. Y'have given it me. 

And yet I feel life for another veney. 90 

Enter Charlotte [below] 

Cler. [To Chariotte] What would you, sir ? 

Char. I would perform this combat. 

Cler. Against which of us ? 

Chair. I care not much if 'twere 

Against thj^elf : thy sister would have sham'd 
To have thy brother's wreak with any man 
In single combat stick so in her fingers. 95 

Cler, My sister ? Know you her ? 

Tarn. Ay, sir, she sent him 

With this kind letter to perform the wreak 
Of my dear servant. ^^ 

Cler, Now, alas, good sir 1 

Think you you could do more ? 

Char. Alas ; I do 1 

And wer't not I, fresh, sound, should charge a man 100 

Weary and wounded, I would long ere this 
Have prov'd what I presume on. 

Cler. Y'have a mind 

like to my sister, but have patience now ; 
If next charge speed not, I'll resign to you. 

Mont. [To Qermont] Pray thee, let him decide it. 

Cler. No, my lord, 105 

I am the man in fate, and since so bravely 



Yoar lordflhip stands me, scape but one more charge. 
And, on my life, I'll set your life at large. 

Mont. Said Kke a D'Ambois. and if now I die. 
Sit joy and all good on thy victory 1 Fights and falls down no 
Farewell, I heartily forgive thee ; wife. 
And thee ; let penitence spend thy rest of life. 

He gives his hand to Clermont and his wife 

Cler, Noble and Christian ! 

Tom. O. it breaks my heart I 

Cler. And should ; for all faults found in him before. 
These words, this end, makes full amends and more. 115 

Rest, worthy soul ; and with it the dear spirit 
Of my lov'd brother rest in endless peace 1 
Soft Ue thy bones. Heaven be your soul's abode. 
And to your ashes be the earth no load ! 

Music, and the Ghost of Bussy enters, leading the Ghosts of the 
Guise, Monsieur, Cardinal Guise, and Chatillon ; they 
dance about the dead body, and exeunt, 

Cler, How strange is this ! The Guise amongst these spirits, 120 
And his great brother Cardinal, both yet living 1 
And that the rest with them with joy thus celebrate 
This our revenge I This certainly presages 
Some instant des^ih both to the Guise and Cardinal. 
That the Chatillon's ghost too should thus join 125 

In celebration of this just revenge, 
'With Guise, that bore a chief stroke in his death. 
It seems that now he doth approve the act, 
And these true shadows of the Guise and Cardinal, 
Fore-running thus their bodies, may approve 130 

That all things to be done, as here we live. 
Are done before all times in th' other life. 
That spirits should rise in these times yet are fables ; 
Though leamed'st men hold that our sensive spirits 
A little time abide about the graves 135 

Of their deceased bodies, and can take 
In cold condens'd air the same forms they had 
When they were shut up in this body's shade. 

Enter Aumale 

Aum. O sir, the Guise » slain I 

Cler. Avert^t, heaven I 

CD.W. L 


Aum. Sent for to Council, by the King, an ambush 140 
(Lodg'd for the purpose) rush'd on him, and took 
His princely life ; who sent (in dying then) 
His love to you, as to the best of men. 

CUr, The worst, and most accursed of things creeping 
On earth's sad bosom. Let me pray ye all 145 

A little to forbear, and let me use 
Freely mine own mind in lamenting him. 
I'll call ye straight again. 

Aum, We will forbear. 

And leave you free, sir. Exeunt 

Cler, Shall I live, and he 

Dead, that alone gave means of life to me ? 150 

There's no disputing with the acts of kings. 
Revenge is impious on their sacred persons : 
And could I play the worldling (no man loving 
Longer than gain is reap'd, or grace from him) 
I should survive, and shall be wonder'd at 155 

Though (in mine own hands being) I end with him : 
But friendship is the cement of two minds. 
As of one man the soul and body is, 
Of which one cannot sever, but the other 
Suffers a needful separation. 160 

Ren. I fear your servant, madam, let's descend. 

Descend Renel and Countess 

Cler. Since I could skill of man, I never liv'd 
To please men worldly, and shall I in death, 
Respect their pleasures, making such a jar 
Betwixt my death and life, when death should make 165 

The consort sweetest, th' end being proof and crown 
To all the skill and worth we truly own ? 
Guise, O my lord, how shall I ca^t from me 
The bands and coverts hind'ring me from thee ? 
The garment or the cover of the mind, 170 

The human soul is ; of the soul, the spirit 
The proper robe is ; of the spirit, the blood ; 
And of the blood, the body is the shroud. 
With that must I begin then to unclothe. 
And come at th' other. Now, then, as a ship, 175 

Touching at strange and far-removed shores. 
Her men ashore go, for their several ends» 
Fresh water, victuals, precious stones, and pearl. 
All yet intentive (when the master calls. 


The ship to put off ready) to leave all 180 

Their greediest labours, lest they there be left 

To thieves or beasts, or be the country's slaves : 

So, now my master palls, my ship, my venture. 

All in one bottom put, all quite put o£E, 

Gone under sail, and I left negligent, 185 

To all the horrors of the vicious time. 

The far-remov'd shores to all virtuous aims, 

None favouring goodness, none but he respecting 

Piety or manhood-— shall I here survive, 

Not cast me after him into the sea, 190 

Rather than here live, ready every hour 

To feed thieves, beasts, and be the slave of power ? 

I come, my lord 1 Qermont, thy creature, comes. 

He kills himself 

Enter Aumale, Tamyra, Charlotte 

Aum. What, lie and languish, Qermont ? Cursed man. 
To leave him here thus ! He hath slain himself. 195 

Tom, Misery on misery 1 O me, wretched dame 
Of all that breathe I All heaven turn all his eyes 
In hearty envy thus on one poor dame ! 

Char. Well done, my brother t I did love thee ever, 
But now adore thee : loss of such a friend 200 

None should survive, of such a brother [none] ; 
With my false husband live, and both these slain I 
Ere I return to him, 111 turn to earth. 

Enter Rend, leading the Countess 

Ren, Horror of human eyes 1 O Qermont d'Ambois 1 
Madam, we stay'd too long ; your servant's slain. 205 

Count. It must be so ; he liVd but in the Guise, 
As I in him. O foUow, life, mine eyes 1 

Tom. Hide, hide thy snaky head 1 To cloisters fly. 
In penance pine 1 Too easy 'tis to die. 

Ch€U^. It is. In cloisters, then, let's all survive. 210 

Bfadam, since wrath nor grief can help these fortunes. 
Let us forsake the world in which they reign, 
And for their wish'd amends to God complain. 

Count. Tis fit and only needful : lead me on. 
In heaven's course comfort seek, in earth Is none. 215 



Enter Henry, Epemon, SoissoQ9, and others 

Hen, We came indeed too late, which much I me. 
And would have kept this Clermont as my crown. 
Take in the dead, and make this fatal room 
(The house shut up) the famous D'Ambois tomb. 

Exeunt [with the bodies] 




The Conspiracy and Tragedy 

Charles Duke of Byron 







Sir, Though I know you ever stood little affected to these 
unprofitable rites of Dedication (which disposition in you hath 
made me hitherto dispense with your right in my other impres- 
sions), yet, lest the world may repute it a neglect in me of so ancient 
and worthy a friend, having heard your approbation of these in 
their presentment, I could not but prescribe them with your 
name ; and that my afFection may ^rtend to your posterity, I 
have entitled to it, herein, your hope and comfort in your generous 
son ; whom I doubt not that most reverenced Mother of manly 
sciences, to whose instruction your virtuous care commits him, 
will so profitably initiate in her learned labours, that they will 
make him flourish in his riper life over the idle lives of our ignorant 
gentlemen, and enable him to supply the honourable places of 
your name ; extending your years and his right noble mother's, 
in the true comforts of his virtues, to the sight of much and most 



happy progeny ; which most afiEectioiiately wishing, and dividing 
these poor dismembered poems betwixt yoa, I desire to live still 
in your graceful loves* and ever 

The most assured at your commandments, 



When the uncivil civil wars of FtanCe 

Had ponr'd upon the country's beaten breast 

Her batter'd dties, press'd her under hills 

Of slaughtered carcasses, set her in the mouths 

Of murtherous breaches, and made pale Despair, 5 

Leave her to Ruin, through them all, Byron 

Stepp'd to her rescue, took her by the hand ; 

Pluck'd her from under her unnatural press. 

And set her shining in the height of peace. 

And now new deans'd from dust, from sweat, and blood, lo 

And dignified with title of a Duke, 

As when in wealthy Autumn his bright star 

Wash'd in the lofty ocean, thence ariseth, 

Illustrates heaven, and all his other fires 

Out-€hines and darkens, so admired Byron 15 

All France exempted from comparison. 

He touch'd heaven with his lance, nor yet was touch'd 

With hellish treachery ; his country's love 

He yet thirsts, not the fair shades of himself ; 

Of which empoison'd spring when Pohcy drinks, 20 

He bursts in growing great, and, rising, siaJta : 

Which now behold in our conspirator, 

And see in his revolt how honour's flood 

Ebbs into air, when men are great, not good. 



Henry IV, King of France. 

Albert, Archduke of Austria. 

The Duhe of Savoy 

The Duhe of Byron 

D'Anvergne, a friend of Byron 



D'Aumont, SJ^rench Noblemen 



Bellidvre, \ French Commis- 

Bmlart, ) sioners at Brussels 

D'Aumale, a French exile ai 

Picot6, a Frenchman in the 

Spanish service at Brussels 

Orange, \ Noblemen in the 


Mansfield, ) Archduke's Court 
Roiseau, a French gentleman 

attending the Embassy 
La Fin, a ruined French noble 
Roncas, the Ambassador of 

Savoy at Paris 
Rochette, \ Lords attending the 
Breton, ) Duke of Savoy 
Vitry, Captain of the Guard 
Janin, a French minister 
La Brosse, an astrologer 

Three Ladies at the French 


[Paris. A Room in the Coari] 

Enter Savoy, Roncas, Rochette, Breton 

Sac'. I would not for hall Savoy bat have bound 
France to. some favour by my personal presence 
More than yonr self, my Lord Ambassador, 
Conld have obtain'd ; for all ambassadors. 
Ton know, have chiefly these instructions : 5 

To note the state and chief sway of the Court 
To which they are employ'd ; to penetrate 
The heart and marrow of the King's designs. 
And to observe the countenances and spirits c 

Of such as are impatient of rest, xo 

And wring beneath some private discontent : 
But, past all these, there are a number more 
Of these state criticisms that our personal view 
May profitably make, which cannot fall 

Vi^tfain the powers of our instruction 15 

To make you comprehend ; I will do more 
¥^th my mere shadow than you with your persons. 
All you can say against my coming here 
Is that, which I confess, may for the time 
Breed strange affections in my brother Spain ; 20 

But when I shall have time to make my cannons 
The long-tongued heralds of my hidden drifts. 
Our reconcilement will be made with triumphs. 

Ron. If not, your Highness hath small cause to care, 
Having such worthy reason to complain 25 

Of Spain's cold friendship and his ling'ring succours. 
Who only entertains your griefs with hope 
To make your med'dne desperate. 

Rock. My lord knows 

The Sponiah gloss too well ; his form, stnfE, lasting. 

J V. 


And the most dangerous conditioDS 3^ 

He lays on them with whom he is hi league. 

Th' injustice in the most unequal dower 

Given with th' In&mta, whom my lord espoua'd, 

Compar'd with that her elder sister had. 

May tell him how much Spain's love weighs to him* 35 

When of so many globes and sceptres held 

By the great King, he only would bestow 

A portion but of six-score thousand crowns 

In yearly pension with his Highness' wife. 

When the Infanta, wedded by the Archduke, 40 

Had the Franche-Comt6, and Low Provinces. 

Bret, We should not set these passages of spleen 
'Twixt Spain and Savoy : to the weaker part 
More good by sufi'rance grows than deeds oi heart; 
The nearer princes are, the further ofE 45 

In rites of ^endship ; my advice had never 
Consented to this voyage of my lord. 
In which he doth endanger Spain's whole loss. 
For hope of some poor fragment here in France. 

Sav, My hope in France you knOw not, though my 
counsel ; - 50 

And for my loss of Spain, it is agreed 
That I should slight it ; oft-times princes' rules 
Are like the chymical philosophers' ; 
Leave me then to mine own projection 

In this our thrifty alchemy of state ; 55 

Yet help me thus far, you that have been here 
Our Lord Ambassador, and in short inform me 
What spirits here are fit for our designs. 

Ron, The new-created Duke Byron is fit. 
Were there no other reason for your presence, ^60 

To make it worthy ; for he is a man ,- }. 

Of matchless valour, and was ever happy 
In all encounteiB, which were still made good 
With an unwearied sense of any toil, ^ ; 

Having continued fourteen days together ' rV ^5 

Upon his horse ; his blood is not voluptuous, 
Nor much inclined to women ; his desires 
Are higher than his state, and his deserts 
Not much short of the most he can desire. "^^ 

If they be weigh'd with what France feels by them : 
He is past measure glorious ; and that humour *jo 


Is fit to feed his spirits, whom it possesseth, 

VTlth faith in any error, chiefly where 

Men blow it up with praise of his perf ections ; 

The taste whereof in him so soothes his palate, 75 

And takes np all his appetite, that oft-times 

He will refuse his meat and company 

To feast alone with their most strong conceit ; 

Ambition also cheek by cheek doth march 

With that excess of glory, both snstain'd 80 

With an unlimited fancy that the King, 

Nor France itself, without him can subsist. 

Sav, He is the man, my lord, I come to win ; 
And that supreme intention of my presence 
Saw never light till now, which, yet I fear, 85 

The politic King suspecting, is the cause. 
That he hath sent him so far from my reach, 
And made him chief in the commission 
Of his ambassage to my brother Archduke, 
With whom he is now ; and, as I am told, 90 

So entertain'd and fitted in his humour, 
That ere I part, I hope he will return 
Prepared and made the more fit for the physic 
That I intend to minister. 

Ron. My lord. 

There is another discontented spirit 95 

Now here in Court, that for his brain and aptness 
To any course that may recover him 
In his declined and litigious state 
'Wm serve Byron, as he were made for him. 
In giving vent to his ambitious vein, 100 

And that is, de La Fin. 

Sav. You tell me true, 

And him I think you have prepar'd for me. 

RoH, I have, my lord, and doubt not he will prove 
Of the 3ret taintless fortress of Byron 
A quick expugner, and a strong abider. 105 

Sav, Perhaps the batt'ry will be brought before him 
In this ambassage, for I am assur'd 
They set high price of him, and are informed 
Of all the passages, and means for mines 
That may be thought on to his taking in. no 


Enter Henry €md La Fin 

The King comes, and La Fin ; the King's aspect 
Folded in clouds. 

Hen. I will not have my train 

Made a retreat for bankrouts, nor my Court 
A hive for drones : proud beggars and true thieves. 
That with a forced truth they swear to me 115 

Rob my poor subjects, shall give up their arts, 
And henceforth learn to live by their deserts ; 
Though I am grown, by right of birth and arms. 
Into a greater kingdom, I will spread 

Vfith no more shade than may admit that kingdom 120 

Her proper, natural, and wonted fruits ; 
Navarre shall be Navarre, and France still France : 
If one may be the better for the other 
By mutual rites, so ; neither shall be worse. 
Thou art in law, in quarrels, and in debt, 125 

Which thou would'st quit with count'nance ; borrowing 
With thee is purchase, and thou seek'st by me, 
In my supportance, now our old wars cease, 
To wage worse battles with the arms of peace. 

La F, Peace must not make men cowards, nor keep calm 130 
Her pursy regiment with men's smother'd breaths ; 
I must confess my fortunes are declin'd, 
But neither my deservings nor my mind : 
I seek but to sustain the right I found 

When I was rich, in keeping what is left, 135 

And making good my honour as at best. 
Though it be hard ; man's right to everything 
Wanes with his wealth, wealth is his surest king; 
Yet Justice should be still indifferent. 

The overplus of kings, in all their might, 140 

Is but to piece out the defects of right : 
And this I sue for, nor shall frowns and taunts 
(The common scare-crows of all poor men's suits) 
Nor misconstruction that doth colour still 
Licentiate justice, punishing good for ill, 145 

Keep my free throat from knocking at Ihe sky. 
If thunder chid me, for my equity. 

Hen. Thy equity is to be ever banish'd ' 

Ftom Court and all society of noblesse. 
Amongst whom thou throw'st balls of all dissension ; 150 


Thou art at peace with nothing but with war, 

Hast no heart but to hurt, and eat'st thy heart. 

If it but think of doing any good : 

Thou witchest with thy smiles, suck'st blood with praises, 

Mock'st all humanity ; society poison'st, 155 

Cozen'st with virtue ; with religion 

Betray'st and massacrest; so vile thyself, 

That thou suspect'st peiiection in others : 

A man must think of all the villanies 

He knows in all men to decipher thee, 160 

That art the centre to impiety : 

Away, and tempt me not. 

La F, But you tempt me. 

To what, thou. Sun, be judge, and make him see. Exit 

Sav, Now by my dearest Marquisate of Saluces, 
Your Majesty hath with the greatest life 165 

Describ'd a wicked man, or rather thrust 
Your arm down through him to his very feet 
And pluck'd his inside out, that ever yet 
My ears did witness, or tum'd ears to eyes ; 
And those strange characters, writ in his face, 170 

Which at first sight were hard for me to read. 
The doctrine of your speech hath made so plain 
That I run through them like my natural language : 
Nor do I like that man's aspect, methinks. 
Of aU looks where the beams of stars have carv'd 175 

Their powerful influences ; and (O rare) 
What an heroic, more than royal spirit 
Bewray'd you in your first speech, that defies 
Protection of vile drones that eat the honey 
Sweat from laborious virtue, and denies 180 

To give those of Navarre, though bred with yon, 
The benefits and dignities of France. 
When little rivers by their greedy currents 
(Far far extended from their mother springs) 
Drink up the foreign brooks still as they run, 185 

And force their greatness, when they come to sea, 
And justle with the Ocean for a room, 
O how he roars, and takes them in his mouth. 
Digesting them so to his proper streams 
That they are no more seen, he nothing rais'd 190 

Above his usual bounds, yet they devour'd 
That of themselves were pleasant, goodly floods. 


Hen, I would do best for both, yet shall not be secure, 
Till in some absolute heirs my crown be settled ; 
There is so little now betwixt aspirers 195 

And their great object in my only self. 
That all the strength they gather under me 
Tempts combat with mine own : I therefore make 
Means for some issue by my marriage. 

Which with the Great Duke's niece is now concluded, 200 
And she is coming; I have trust in heaven 
I am not yet so old, but I may spring. 
And then I hope all trait'rous hopes will fade. 

Sou. Else may their whole estates fly, rooted up. 
To ignominy and oblivion : 205 

And (being your ];ieighbour, servant, and poor kinsman) 
I wish your mighty race might multiply. 
Even to the period of all empery. 

Hen, Thanks to my princ^y cousin : this your love 
And h(Hiour shown me in your personal presence 210 

I wish to welcome to your full content ; 
The peace now made with your brother Archduke 
By Duke B3n:on, our Lord Ambassador, 
I wish may happily extend to you. 
And that at his return we may conclude it. 215 

Sav, It shall be to my heart the happiest day 
Of all my life, and that life all employ'd 
To celebrate the honour of that day. Exeunt 

Brussels. A Room in the Archduke's Court} 

Enter Roiseau 

Rots, The wondrous honour done our Duke B5m>n 
In his ambassage here, in th' Archduke's court, 
I fear will taint his loyalty to our King ; 
I will observe how they observe his humour 
And glorify his valour, and how he 5 

Accepts and stands attractive to their ends. 
That so I may not seem an idle spot 
In train of this ambassage, but return 
Able to give our King some note of all. 
Worth my attendance ; and see, here's the man, 10 


Who (though a Frenchman and in Orleans bom. 

Serving the Archduke) I do most suspect, 

Is set to be the tempter of our Duke ; 

I'U go where I may see, although not hear. [ReHrss] 

Enter Picot6, with two others, spreading a carpet 

Pic. Spread here this history of Catiline, 15 

That earth may seem to bring forth Roman spirits 
Even to his genial feet, and her dark breast 
Be made the clear glass of his shining graces ; 
We'll make his feet so tender they shall g^l 
In all paths but to empire ; and therein 20 

I'll make the sweet st^ of his state begin. 

Exit [Picot6 with Senrants] 

Lot4d music, and enter Byroa 

Byr. What place is this, what air, what region^ 
In which a man may hear the harmony 
Of all things moving ? Hymen marries here 
Their ends and uses, and makes me his temple. 25 

Hath any man been blessed, and yet liv'd ? 
The blood turns in my veins; I stand on change. 
And shaU dissolve in changing; 'tis so full 
Of pleasure not to be contain'd in flesh t 
To fear a violent good abuseth goodness, 30 

'Tis immortality to die aspiring. 
As if a man were taken <^ck to heaven ; 
What will not hold perfection, let it burst ; 
What force hath any cannon, not being charg'd, 
Or being not discharg'd ? To have stuff and form, 35 

And to lie idle, fearful, and unus'd. 
Nor form nor stuff shows ; happy Semdie, 
That died compiess'd with glory 1 Hafypineas 
Denies comparison of less or more. 

And not at most, is nothing : like the shaft 40 

Shot at the sun by angry Hercules, 
And into shivers by the thunder broken. 
Will I be if I burst ; and in my heart 
This shall be written : ' Yet 'twas high and right '. 

MiAsic again 
Here too ? They follow all my steps with music 45 

As if my feet were numerous, and trod sounds 
Out of the centre with Apollo's virtue, 

CD.W. ** It 


That out of every thing his each part touch'd 

Struck musical accents ; wheresoever I go, 

They hide the earth from me with coverings rich, 50 

To make me think that I am here in heaven. 

Enter Picot6 in haste 

Pic, This way, your Highness. 
Byr. Come they ? 

Pic. Ay, my lord ! 

Enter the other Commissioners of France, Bellidvre, Brulart, 

[ttTi/A] D'Anmale, Orange 

Bel, My Lord d'Aumale, I am exceeding sorry 
That your own obstinacy to hold out 

Your mortal enmity against the King, 55 

When Duke du Maine and all the faction yielded. 
Should force his wrath to use the lites of treason 
Upon the members of your senseless statue. 
Your name and house, when he had lost your person, 
Your love and duty. 

Bru. That which men enforce 60 

By their own wilfulness, they must endure 
With willing patience and without complaint. 

D'Aum, I use not much impatience nor complaint, 
Though it offends me much to have my name 
So blotted with addition of a traitor, 65 

And my whole memory with such despite 
Mark'd and begun to be so rooted out. 

Bru, It was despite that held you out so long. 
Whose penance in the King was needful justice. 

Bel, Come, let us seek our Duke, and take our leaves 70 

Of th' Archduke's grace. Exeunt 

Enter Byron and Picot6 [above] 

Byr, Here may we safely breathe ? 

Pic. No doubt, my lord ; no stranger knows this way ; 
Only the Archduke, and your friend, Count Mansfield, 
Perhaps may make their general scapes to you 
To utter some part of their private loves 75 

Ere your departure. 

Byr. Then I well perceive 

To what th' intention of his Highness tends ; 
For whose, and others, here, most worthy lords, 
I will become, with all my worth, their servant 




In any office but disloyalty ; So 

Bnt that hath ever show'd so foul a monster 

To all my ancestors and my former life, 

That now to entertain it I must wholly 

Give up my habit in his contrary. 

And strive to grow out of privation. 85 

Pic. My lord, to wear your loyal habit still, 
When it is out of fashion, and hath done 
Service enough, were rustic misery : 
The habit of a servile lo3ralty 

Is reckoned now amongst privations, 90 

With blindness, dumbness, deafness, silence, death ; 
All which are neither natures by themselves 
Nor substances, but mere decays of form. 
And absolute decessions of nature ; 

And so 'tis nothing, what shall you then lose ? 95 

Your Highness hath a habit in perfection. 
And in desert of highest dignities. 
Which carve yourself, and be your own rewarder. 
No true power doth admit privation 

Adverse to him ; or suffers any fellow 100 

Join'd in his subject ; you superiors. 
It is the nature of things absolute 
One to destroy another ; be your Highness 
Like those steep hills that will admit no clouds, 
No dews, nor least fumes bound about their brows, 105 

Because their tops pierce into purest air, 
Expert of humour; or like air itself 
That quickly changeth, and receives the sun 
Soon as he riseth, everywhere dispersing 

His royal splendour, girds it in his beams, no 

And makes itself the body of the light : 
Hot, shining, swift, light, and aspiring things. 
Are of immortal and celestial nature ; 
Cold, dark, dull, heavy, of infernal fortunes 
And never aim at any happiness : 115 

Your Excellency knows liiat simple loyalty, 
Faith, love, sincerity, are but words, no tilings. 
Merely devis'd for form ; and as the Legate, 
Sent from his Holiness to frame a peace 
Twixt Spain and Savoy, labour'd ferventiy, 120 

For common ends, not for the Duke's particular. 
To have him sign it ; he again endeavours. 


Not for the Legate's pains, but bis own pleasure, 

To gratify him ; and being at last encountered, 

Where the flood Ticin enters into Po, 12$ 

They made a kind contention, which of them 

Should enter th' other's boat ; one thrust the other ; 

One leg was over, and another in ; 

And with a flery courtesy at last 

Savoy leaps out into the Legate's arms, 130 

And here ends all his love, and th' other's labour : 

So shall these terms and impositions, 

Express'd before, hold nothing in themselves 

Really good, but flourishes of form ; 

And further than they make to private ends 135 

None wise, or free, their proper use intendSt 

Byr. O, 'tis a dangerous and a dreadlul thing 
To steal prey from a lion, or to hide 
A head distrustful in his open'd jaws ; 

To trust our blood in others' veins, and hang 140 

'Twixt heaven and earth in vapours of their breaths ; 
To leave a sure pace on continuate earth, 
And force a gate in jumps from tower to tower, . 
As they do that aspire ^om height to height : 
The bounds of loyalty are made of glass, 145 

Soon broke, but can in no date be repair'd; 
And as the Duke d'Aumale, now here in Court, 
Flying his country, had his statue torn 
Piece-meal with horses, all his goods confiscate. 
His arms of honour kick'd about the streets, 150 

His goodly house at Annet raz'd to th' earth, 
And (for a strange reproach of his foul treascm) 
His trees about it cut ofif by their waists ; 
So, when men fly the natural clime of truth. 
And turn themselves loose out of all the bounds 155 

Of justice and the straight way to their ends. 
Forsaking all the sure force in themselves 
To seek without them that which is not theirs. 
The forms of all their comforts are distracted, 
The riches of their freedoms forfeited, 160 

Their human noblesse sham'd, the mansions 
Of their cold spirits eaten down with cares. 
And all their ornaments of wit and valour. 
Learning, and judgment, cut from aU tibunr ficnats. 


[EnUr the Archduke Albert] 

Alb. O, here were now the richest prize in Europe, 165 

Were he but taken in affection. [Embracing Bjn-ori] 

Would we might grow together, and be twins 
Of either*8 fortune, or that, still embrac'd, 
I were but ring to such a precious stone. 

Byr, Your Highness' honours and high bounty shown tne 170 
Have won from me my voluntary power ; 
And I must now move by your eminent Will; 
To what particular objects if I know 
By this man's intercession, he shall bring 
My uttermost answer, and perform betwixt us ' ^75 

Reciprocal and full intelligence. 

Alb, Even for your own deserved royal godd 
Tis joyfully accepted ; use the loves 
And worthy admirations of your friends, 
That b^;et vows of all things you can wish, 180 

And be what I wish : danger says, no more. Exit 

EfUet Mansfield, ai another door 
Exit Picot6 

Mans. Your Highness makes the light of this Court stoop 
With your so near departure ; I was forc'd 
To tender to your Excellence in brief 

This private wish, in taking of my leave, 185 

That, in some army royal, old Count Mansfield 
Bifight be conmianded by your matchless valour 
To the supremest point of victory ; 
Who vows for that renown all prayer and service : 
No more, lest I may wrong you. Exit Mansfield 

Byr. Thank your lordship. 190 

Enter D'Aumale and Orange 

lyAum. All majesty be added to your Highness, 
Of which I wotdd not wish your breast to bear 
More modest apprehension than may tread 
The high gait of your spirit, and be known 
To be a fit bound for your boundless valour. 195 

Or. So Orange wisheth, and to the deserts 
Of your great actions their most royal crown. 

Enter Picot6 

Pic. Away, my lord, the lords inquire for you. 

Exit Byron \cmd Piicot6] 


Manei Orange, D'Aumale, Roiseau 
Or, Would we might win his valour to our part. 
D'Aum, 'Tis well prepar'd in his entreaty here, 200 

With all state's highest observations ; 

And to their form and words are added gifts. 

He was presented with two goodly horses. 

One of which two was the brave beast Pastrana, 

With plate of gold, and a much prized jewel, 205 

Girdle and hangers set with wealthy stones. 

All which were valued at ten thousand crowns ; 

The other lords had suits of tapestry. 

And chains of gold; and every gentleman 

A pair of Spanish gloves, and rapier blades : 210 

And here ends their entreaty, which I hope 

Is the beginning of more good to us 

Than twenty thousand times their gifts to them. 

Enter [behtD] Albert, Byron, Bellidvre, Mansfield, anth others 

Alb. My lord, I grieve that all the setting forth 
Of our best welcome made you more retired ; 215 

Your chamber hath been more lov'd than our honours, 
And therefore we are glad your time of parting 
Is come to set you in the air you love : 
Commend my service to his Majesty, 

And tell him that this day of peace with him 220 

111 hold as holy. All your pains, my lords, 
I shall be always glad to gratify 
With any love and honour your own hearts 
Shall do me grace to wish express'd to you. [Exeunt] 

Rats, [advancing] Here hath been strange demeanour, 235 
which shall fly 
To the great author of this ambassy. [Exit] 



[A Room in the House of Nemours at Paris] 

Enter Savoy, La Fin, Roncas, Rochette, Breton 

Sav. Admit no entry, I will speak with none. 
Good signior de la Fin, your worth shall find 


That I will make a jewel lor my cabinet 

Of that the King, in surfeit of his store, 

Hath cast out as the sweepings of his hall ; 5 

I told him, having threatened you away, 

That I did wonder this small time of peace 

Could make him cast his armour so securely* 

In such as you, and, as 'twere, set the head 

Of one ao great in counsels on his foot, 10 

And pitch him from him with such guard[less] strength. 

LaF. He may, perhaps, find he hath pitch'd away 
The axletree that kept him on his wheels. 

Sav. I told him so, I swear, in other terms, 
And not with too much note of our close loves, 15 

Lest so he might have smok'd our practices. 

La F. To choose his time, and spit his poison on me 
Through th' ears and eyes of strangers ! 

Sav. So I told him, 

And more than that, which now I will not tell you : 
It rests now then, noble and worthy friend, 20 

That to our friendship we draw Duke Bjnron, 
To whose attraction there is no such chain 
As you can forge and shake out of your brain. 

La F, 1 have devis'd the fashion and the weight ; 
To valours hard to draw we use retreats ; 25 

And to pull shafts home, with a good bow-arm 
We thrust hard from us : since he came from Flanders 
He heard how I was threatened with the King, 
And hath been much inquisitive to know 
The truth of all, and seeks to speak with me ; 30 

The means he us'd, I answered doubtfully, 
And with an intimation that I shunn'd him. 
Which will, I know, put more spur to his charge ; 
And if his haughty stomach be prepar'd 

'With will to any act for the aspiring 35 

Of his ambitious aims, I make no doubt 
But I shall work him to your Highness' wish. 

Sav. But undertake it, and I rest assur'd : 
You are reported to have skill in magic 

And the events of things, at which they reach 40 

That are in nature apt to overreach ; 
Whom the whole circle of the present time. 
In present pleasures, fortunes, knowledges. 
Cannot contain ; those men, as broken loose 


From human limits, in all violent ends 45 

Would fain aspire the faculties of fiends ; 

And in such air breathe his unbounded spirits. 

Which therefore well will fit such conjurations : 

Attempt him then by flying, dose with him. 

And bring him home to us, and take my dukedom. 50 

La F. My best in that, and all things, vows your [servant]. 

Sou. Thanks to my dear friend and the French Ulysses. 

Exit Savoy [cum suis] 

Enter Byron 

Byr, Here is the man. My honoured friend. La Fin ! 
Alone, and heavy countenanced ? On what terms 
Stood th' insultation of the King upon you ? 55 

La F, Why do you ask ? 

Byr, Since 1 would know the truth. 

La F, And when you know it, what ? 

Byr. I'll judge betwixt you. 

And, as I may, make even th' excess of either. 

La F. Alas ! my lord, not aU your loyalty. 
Which is in you more than hereditary, 60 

Nor all your valour (which is more than human) 
Can do the service you may hope on me 
In sounding my displeased integrity ; 
Stand for the King as much in policy 

As you have stirr'd for him in deeds of arms, 65 

And make yourself his glory, and your country's. 
Till you be suck'd as dry and wrought as lean 
As my flay'd carcass ; you shall never close 
With me, as you imagine. 

Byr, You much wrong me 

To think me an inteUigencing instrument. 70 

LaF. I know not how your so affected zeal 
To be reputed a true-hearted subject 
May stretch or turn you ; I am desperate ; 
If I ofiend you, I am in your power ; 

I care not how I tempt your conquering fury, 75 

I am predestin'd to too base an end 
To have the honour of your wrath destroy me, 
And be a worthy object for your sword. 
I lay my hand and head too at your feet, 
As I have ever, here I hold it still ; 80 

End me directly, do not go about. 


Byr, How strange is this I the shame of his disgrace • 
Hath made him lunatic. 

LaF. Since the King hath wrong'd me 

He thinks I'll hurt myself ; no, no, my lord, 
I know that all the kings in Christendom, 85 

If they should join in my revenge, would prove 
Weak foes to him, still having you to friend ; 
If you were gone (I care not if you tell him) 
I might be tempted then to right myself. Exii 

Byr, He has a will to me, and dares not show it ; 90 

His state decay'd, and he disgraced, distracts him« 

Redit La Fin 

La F, Change not my words, my lotd ; I only said,; 
' I might be tempted then to right myself ' ; 
Temptation to treason is no treason ; 

And that word ' tempted ' was conditional too, 95 

' If you were gone ' ; I pray inform the truth. ExUun^s 

Byr. Stay, injur'd man, and know I am your friend, 
Far from these base and mercenary reaches ; 
I am, I swear to you. 

La F. You may be so ; 

And yet you'll give me leave to be La Fin, xoo 

A poor and expuate humour of the Court ; 
But what good blood came out with me, what veins 
And sinews of the triumphs now it makes, . . 

I list not vaunt; yet will I now confess. 
And dare assume it, I have power to add 105 

To all his greatness, and make yet more fix'd 
His bold security. Tell him this, my lord. 
And this (if all the spirits of earth and air 
Be able to enforce) I can make good ; 

If knowledge of the sure events of things, iio' 

Even from the rise of subjects into kings ; 
And falls of kings to subjects, hold a power 
Of strength to work it, I can make it good ; 
And tell him this too : ii in midst of winter 
To make black groves grow green, to still the thunder, 115 
And cast out able flashes from mine eyes 
To beat the lightning back into the iddes. 
Prove power to do it, I can make it good ; 
And teU him this too : if to lift the sea 



Up to the stars, when all the winds are still, 120 

And keep it calm, when they are most enrag'd ; 

To make earth's driest [plains] sweat humorous springs. 

To make fix'd rocks walk and loose shadows stand, 

To make the dead speak, midnight see the sun, 

Mid-day turn mid-night, to dissolve all laws 125 

Of nature and of order, argue power 

Able to work all, I can make all good : 

And all this tell the King. 

Byfr. 'Tis more than strange. 

To see you stand thus at the rapier's point 
With one so kind and sure a friend as I. 130 

La F. Who cannot friend himself is foe to any. 
And to be fear'd of all, and that is it 
Makes me so scom'd ; but make me what you can. 
Never so wicked and so full of fiends, 

I never yet was traitor to my friends : 135 

The laws of friendship I have ever held. 
As my religion ; and for other laws 
He is a fool that keeps them with more care 
Than they keep him safe, rich, and popular : 
For riches, and for popular respects 140 

Take them amongst ye, minions ; but for safety, 
You shall not find the least flaw in my arms 
To pierce or taint me ; what will great men be 
To please the King and bear authority 1 Exit 

Byr, How fit a sort were this to handsel Fortune I 145 

And I will win it though I lose my self ; 
Though he prove harder than Egyptian marble, 
I'll make him malleable as th' Ophir gold : 
I am put off from this dull shore of [ease] 
Into industrious and high-going seas ; 150 

Where, like Pehdes in Scamander's flood. 
Up to the ears in surges I will fight. 
And pluck French Ilion underneath the waves 1 
If to be highest still, be to be best. 

All works to that end are the worthiest : 155 

Truth is a golden ball, cast in our way. 
To make us stript by falsehood : and as Spain, 
When the hot scuffles of barbarian arms 
Smother'd the life of Don Sebastian, 

To gild the leaden rumour of his death 160 

Gave for a slaughter'd body, h^d for his, 


A hundred thousand crowns, caused all the state 

Of superstitious Portugal to mourn 

And celebrate his solemn funerals. 

The Moors to conquest thankful feasts prefer, 165 

And all made with the carcass of a Switzer : 

So in the giantlike and politic wars 

Of barbarous greatness, raging still in peace, 

Shows to aspire just objects are laid on 

With cost, with labour, and with form enough, 170 

Which only makes our best acts brook the light, 

And their ends had, we tlunk we have their right; 

So worst works are made good with good success, 

And so, for kings, pay subjects carcasses. Exit 

A Room in the Courf] 
Enter Henry, Roiseau 

Hen, Was he so courted ? 

Rois. As a city dame. 

Brought by her jealous husband to the Court, 
Some elder courtiers entertaining him. 
While others snatch a favour from his wife : 
One starts from this door, from that nook another, 5 

With gifts and junkets, and with printed phrase 
Steal her employment, shifting place by place 
Still as her husband comes : so Duke Byron 
Was woo'd and worshipped in the Archduke's Court; 
And as th' assistants IJiat your Majesty 10 

Join'd in commission with him, or myself, 
Or any other doubted eye appeared, 
He ever vanished ; and as such a dame, 
As we compared with him before, being won 
To break faith to her husband, lose her fame, 15 

Stain both their progenies, and coming fresh 
From underneath the burthen of her shame, 
Visits her husband with as chaste a brow. 
As temperate and confirmed behaviour. 

As she came quitted from confession : 20 

So from his scapes would he present a presence. 
The practice of his state adultery, 


And guilt, that shoald & graceful bosom striko, 
Drovn'd in the set lake of a hopeless cheek. 

Hen. It may be he dissembled, or sapposa 15 

He be a Uttle tainted, men whom virtue 
Forms with the stufi of Fortune, great and gradoiis. 
Must needs partake with Fortune in her humour 
Of instability, and are like to shafts 

Grown crook'd with standing, wiiich to rectify 30 

Must twice as mncb be boVd another way. 
He that hath borne wounds for his worthy parts, 
Hust for his worst be borne with : we must fit 
Our government to men, as men to it : 

In old time they that hunted savage beasts 35 

Are said to clotiie themselves in savage skins ; 
They that were fowlers, when they went on fowling, 
Wore garments made with wings resembling fowls ; 
To bulls we must not show ourselves in red. 
Nor to the warlike elephant in white. 40 

In all things govem'd, their infinntties 
Must not be stirr'd, nor wrought on ; Duke Byron 
Flows with adust and melancholy chcrier, 
And melancholy spirits are venonioua. 

Not to be touch'd, but as they may be cnr'd : 45 

I therefore mean to make bim change tiie air, 
And send him further from those Spanish vapoma. 
That still bear fighting sulphur in their breasts. 
To breathe a while in temperate En^ish air. 
Where lips are spic'd witii free and loyal connwls, 50 

Where policies are not ruinous, but saving ; 
Wisdom is fdm^e, valour righteous, 
Human, and hating facts of brutish tanxe ; 
And whose grave natures scorn the scoft of Fnaee, 
The empty compliments of Italy, 55 

The any-way encroaching pride of Spain, 

1 modest, hearty, just, and plain. 

inter] Savoy, whispering with La Fin ' ' 

I'll sound him for Byron ; and what I find 

depth, I'll draw up, and infoim 

to the Duke's revolt, 60 

meet with him. 
] It must be done- 

of the Duke ; from whom the King 


WUl take to give himself ; which, told the Duke, 
Will take his heart up into all ambitioii. 

Sav. [aside] I know it, politic friend, and 'tis my purpose. 65 

Emt La Fin 
Your Majesty hath miss'd a royal sight : 
The Duks B3rron on his brave beast Pastrana, 
Who sits him like a full-sail'd Argosy 
Danc'd with a lofty billow, and as snug 

Plies to his bearer, both their motions mix'd ; 70 

And being consider'd in their site together. 
They do the best present the state of man 
In his first royalty ruling, and of beasts 
In their fixst loyalty serving (one commanding. 
And no way bcdng mov'd ; the other serving, 75 

And no way being compell'd) of all the sights 
That ever my eyes wHness'd ; and they make 
A doctrinal and witty hieroglyphic 
Of a blest kingdom : to express and teach 
Kings to command as they could serve, and subjects 80 

To serve as if they had power to command. 

Hen. You are a good old horseman, I perceive. 
And still out all the use of that good part; 
Yonr wit is of the true Pierian spring. 
That can make anyttdag of anything. 85 

Sav. So brave a subject as the Duke, no king 
Seated on earth can vaunt of but your Hig^ess, 
So valiant, loyal, and so great in service. 

Hen. No question he sets valour in his height. 
And hath done service to an equal pitch, 90 

Fortune attending him with fit events, 
To all his vent'rous and well-laid attempts. 

Sav. Fortune to him was Juno to Alcides ; 
For when or where did she but open way. 
To any act of his ? What stone took he 95 

With her help, or without his own lost blood ? 
What fort won he by her, or was not fcHrc'd ? 
What victory but 'gainst odds ? On what commander. 
Sleepy or negligent did he ever charge ? 
What summer ever made she fair to him ? 100 

What winter not of one continued storm ? 
FortUM is so far from his creditress 
That she owes him much, for in him her looks 
Mtt lovely, modest, and magnanimous, 


Constant, victorious ; and in his achievements 105 

Her cheeks are drawn out with a virtuous redness. 

Out of his eager spirit to victory, 

And chaste contention to convince with honour; 

And, I have heard, his spirits have flowed so hi^ 

In all his conflicts against any odds, no 

That, in his charge, his lips have bled with fervour. 

How serv'd he at your famous siege of Dreux ? 

Where the enemy, assured of victory. 

Drew out a body of four thousand horse 

And twice six thousand foot, and, like a crescent, H5 

Stood for the signal ; you, that show'd yourself 

A sound old soldier, thinking it not fit 

To give your enemy the odds and honour 

Of the first stroke, commanded de la Guiche 

To let fly all his cannons, that did pierce Z20 

The adverse thickest squadrons, and had shot 

Nine volleys ere the foe had once given fire. 

Your troop was charg'd, and when your Duke's old father 

Met with th' assailants, and their grove of reiters 

Repuls'd so fiercely, made them turn their becurds 125 

And rally up themselves behind their troops, 

Fresh forces, seeing your troops a little sever'd 

From that part first assaulted, gave it charge, 

Which then this Duke made good, seccHids his father. 

Beats through and through the enemy's greatest strength, 130 

And breaks the rest like billows 'gainst a rock, 

And there the heart of that huge battle broke. 

Hen. The heart but now came on, in that strong body 
Of twice two thousand horse, led by Du Maine ; 
Which, if I would be glorious, I could say 135 

I first encountered. 

Sav, How did he take in 

Beaune in view of that invincible army 
Led by the Lord Great Constable of Castile, 
Autun and Nuits ; in Burgundy chas'd away 
Viscount Tavannes' troops before Dijon, 140 

And puts himself in, and there that was won. 

Hen, If you would only give me leave, my lord* 
I would do right to him, yet must not give — 
Sav. A league from Fountaine Fran^oise, when you sent 
To make discovery of the Castile army, 145 


When he diacem'd 'twas it, with wondrous wisdom 

Join'd to his spirit, he seem'd to make retreat, 

But when they pressed him, and the Baron of Lux, 

Set on their charge so hotly that his horse 

Was slain, and he most dangerously engag'd, 150 

Then tum'd your brave Duke head, and, with such eaae 

As doth an echo beat back violent soimds 

With their own forces, he (as if a wall 

Start suddenly before them) pash'd them all 

Flat as the earth, and there was that field won. 155 

Hen. Y'are all the field wide. 

Sav. O, I ask you pardon. 

The strength of that field yet lay in his back, 
Upon the foe's part ; and what is to come 
Of this your Maishal, now your worthy Duke, 
Is much beyond the rest ; for now he sees 160 

A sort of horse troops issue from the woods 
In number near twelve hundred ; and retiring 
To tell you that the entire army foUow'd, 
Before he could rdate it, he was forc'd 

To turn head and receive the main assault 165 

Of five horse troops only with twenty horse ; 
The first he met he tumbled to the earth. 
And brake through all, not daunted with two wounds. 
One on his head, another on his breast, 

The blood of which drown'd all the field in doubt ; 170 

Your Majesty himself was then engag'd. 
Your power not yet arriv'd, and up you brought 
The little strength you had (a cloud of foes, 
Ready to burst in storms about your ears) ; 
Three squadrons rush'd against you, and the first 175 

You took so fiercely that you beat their thoughts 
Out of their bosoms from the urged figbt ; 
The second all amazed you overthrew ; 
The third dispers'd, with five and twenty horse; 
Left of the fourscore that pursued the chase : x8o 

And this brave conquest, now your Marshal seconds 
Against two squadrons, but with fifty horse ; 
One after other he defeats them both. 
And made them run, like men whose heels were tripp'd; 
And pitch their heads in their great general's lap ; 183 

And him he sets on, as he had been shot 
Out of a cannon ; beats him into rout. 


And as a little brook being overrun 

With a black torrent, that bears all things down 

His fury overtakes, his foamy back 190 

Loaded with cattle and with stacks of com. 

And makes the miserable plowman mourn ; 

So was Du Maine suicharg'd, and so Byron 

Flow'd over all his forces, every drop 

Of his lost blood bought with a worthy man ; 195 

And only with a hundred gentlemen 

He won the place from fifteen hundred horse. 

Hen, He won the place ? 

Sav. On my word, so 'tis said I 

Hen, Fie, you have been extremely misinformed. 

Sav, I only tell your Highness what I heard ; 200 

I was not there ; and though I have been rude 
With wonder of his valour, and presum'd 
To keep his merit in his full career. 
Not hearing you, when yours made such a thunder. 
Pardon my fault, since 'twas t'extol your servant : 205 

But is it not most true that, 'twixt ye both, 
So few achiev'd the conquest of so many ? 

Hen, It is a truth must make me ever thankful. 
But not perform'd by him ; was not I there. 
Commanded him, and in the main assault 210 

Made him but second ? 

Sav, He*B the capital soldier 

That lives this day in holy Christendom, 
Except your Highness, — always except Plato. 

Hen, We must not give to one to take from many : 
For (not to praise our countr3rmen) here serv'd 215 

The General, Mylor' Norris, sent from England, 
As great a captain as the wodd afiords, 
One fit to lead and fight for Chriateiidom* 
Of more experience and of stronger brain, 
As valiant for abiding, in command 220 

(On any sudden, upon any ground. 
And in the form of all occasions) 
As ready and as profitably dauntless ; 
And here was then another. Colonel Williams, 
A worthy captain ; and more like the Duke, 225 

Because he was less tempezate tlian the General; 
And being familiar with .the maa you praise, 
(Because he knew him haughty and incapiible 



Of all comparison) would compare with him, 
And hold his swelling valour to the mark 230 

Justice had set in him, and not his will : 
And as in open vessels fill'd with water. 
And on men's shoulders borne, they put treen cups 
To keep the wild and slippery element 

From washing over, follow all his sways 235 

And tickle aptness to exceed his bounds. 
And at the brim contain him ; so this knight 
Swum in Byron, and held him but to right. 
But leave these hot comparisons ; he's mine own. 
And, than what I possess, I'll more be known. 240 

Sou. [aside] All this shaU to the Duke ; I fish'd for this. 




[A Room in B3rron's House] 

Enter La Fin, Byron folhming, unseen 

La F. [aside] A feigned passion^in his hearing now 
(Which he thinks I perceive not)^naking conscience 
Of the revolt that he hath urg'd to me, 
(Which now he means to prosecute) would sound 
How deep he stands affected with that scruple. — 5 

As when the moon hath comforted the night 
And set the world in silVer of her light, 
The planets, asterisms, and whole state of heaven. 
In beams of gold descending, all the winds. 
Bound up in caves, charg'd not to drive abroad 10 

Their cloudy heads, an universal peace, 
Proclaim'd in silence of the quiet earth ; 
Soon as her hot and dry fumes are let loose. 
Storms and clouds mixing suddenly put out 
The eyes of all those glories, the creation 15 

Tun'd in to Chaos ; and we then desire. 
For all onr joy of life, the death ol sleep : 
So when the Tories of our lives, men's loves, 
Qear coiiscieiice», our fames, and loyalties, 

CD.W. M 


That did us worthy comfort, are eclips'd, 20 

Grief and disgrace invade us ; and for all 
Our night of life besides our misery craves 
Dark earth would ope and hide us in our graves. 

Byr, [advancing] How strange is this ! 

La F, What ! Did your Highness hear ? 

Byr, Both heard and wonder'd that your wit and spirit, 25 
And profit in experience of the slaveries 
Imposed on us in those mere politic terms 
Of love, fame, loyalty, can be carried up. 
To such a height of ignorant conscience. 

Of cowardice, and dissolution 30 

In all the ireerbom powers of royal man. 
You, that have made way through all the guards 
Of jealous state, and seen on both your sides 
The pikes' points charging heaven to let you pass, 
Will you, in flying with a scrupulous wing, 35 

Above those pikes to heavenward, fall on them ? 
This is like men that, spirited with wine, 
Pass dangerous places safe, and die for fear 
With only thought of them, being simply sober : 
We must, in passing to our wished ends, 40 

Through things call'd good and bad, be like the air 
That evenly interpos'd betwixt the seas 
And the opposed element of fire, 
At either toucheth, but partakes with neither ; 
Is neither hot nor cold, but with a slight 45 

And harmless temper mix'd of both th' extremes. 

LaF. 'Tis shrewd. 

Byr, There is no truth of any good 

To be discem'd on earth : and, by conversion. 
Nought therefore simply bad ; but as the stufE 
Prepared for arras pictures is no picture 50 

Till it be form'd, and man hath cast the beams 
Of his imaginous fancy through it. 
In forming ancient kings and conquerors. 
As he conceives they look'd and were attir'd. 
Though they were nothing so : so all things here 55 

Have all their price set down from men's conceits. 
Which make all terms and actions good or bad, 
And are but pliant and well-colour'd threads 
Put into feigned images of truth ; 
To which to yield and kneel as truth-pure kings, 60 


That pull'd QB down with clear truth of their gospel. 
Were superstition to be hiss'd to hell. 

LaF, Believe it, this is reason. 

Byr. 'Tis the faith 

Of reason and of wisdom. 

LaF, You persuade. 

As if you could create : what man can shun 65 

The searches and compressions of your Grace's ? 

Byr, We must have these lures when we hawk for friends. 
And wind about them like a subtle river 
That, seeming only to run on his course. 
Doth search yet as he runs, and still finds out 70 

The easiest parts of entry <xi the shore ; 
Gliding so slyly by, as scarce it touch'd. 
Yet still eats something in it : so must those 
That have large fields and currents to dispose. 
Come, let us join our streams, we must run far, 75 

And have but little time ; the Duke of Savoy 
Is shortly to be gone, and I must needs 
Make you weU known to him. 

LaF. But hath your Highness 

Some enterprise of value join'd with him ? 

Byr, With him and greater persons 1 

LaF, I will creep 80 

Upon my bosom in your princely service. 
Vouchsafe to make me known. I hear there lives not. 
So kind, so bountiful, and wise a prince 
But in your own excepted excellence. 

Byr. He shall both know and love you : are you mine ? 85 

LaF, I take the honour of it, on my knee. 
And hope to quite it with your Majesty. [Exeunf] 


A Room in the Court] 

Enter Savoy, Roncas, Rochette, Breton 

Sou. La Fin is in the right, and will obtain ; 
He draweth with his weight, and like a plummet 
That sways a door, with falling off pulls after. 

Ron, Thus will La Fin be brought a stranger to you 
By him he leads ; he conquers that is conquer'd. 


That's sought as hard to win, that sues to be won. 

Sav. But is my painter wam'd to take his picture, 
When he shall see me and present La Fin ? 

Roch, He is, my lord, and, as your Highness will'd, 
All we will press about him, and admire lo 

The royal promise of his rare aspect, 
As if he heard not. 

Sou. Twill inflame him : 

Such tricks the Archduke us'd f extol hia greatness. 
Which compliments, though plain men lu>ki absvird. 
And a mere remedy for desire of greatness, 15 

Yet great men use them as their state potatoes. 
High cullises, and potions to excite 
The lust of their ambition : and this Duke 
You know is noted in his natural garb 

Extremely glorious ; who will therefore bring 20 

An appetite expecting such a bait : 
He comes ; go instantly, and fetch the painter. 

Enter Byron, La Fin 

Byr. All honour to your Highness 1 

Sav, 'Tis most true, [emhracing him] 

All honours flow to me, in you their ocean ; 
As welcome, worthiest Duke, as if my marquisate 25 

Were circled with you in these amorous arms. 

Byr, I sorrow, sir, I could not bring it with me 
That I might so supply the fruitless compliment 
Of only visiting your Excellence, 

With which the King now sends me t'entertain yon ; 30 

Which, notwithstanding, doth confer this good 
That it hath given me some small time to show 
My gratitude for the many secret bounties 
I have, by this your Lord Ambassador, 

Felt from your Highness, and, in short, t'assure you 35 

That all my most deserts are at your service. 

Sav. Had the King sent me by you half his kingdom, 
It were not half so welcome. 

Byr, For defect 

Of whatsoever in myself, my lord, 

I here commend to your most princely service 40 

This honoured friend of mine. 

Sav, Your name, I pray yon, sir ? 

La F, La Fin, my lord. 


Sav. La Fin ? [To Roncas] Is this the inaii« 

That yon so recommended to my love ? 

Ron. The same, my lord. 

Sav. Y'are» next my lord the Duke, 

The most desir'd of all men. [To Byron] O my lord, 45 

The King and I have had a mighty conflict 
About your conflicts and your matchless worth 
In military virtues ; which I put 
In balance with the contiaent of France, 
In all the peace and safety it enjoys, 50 

And made even weight with all he could put in 
Of all men's else and ol his own deserts. 

Byr. Of all men's else ? Would he wei^ other men's 
Whh my deservings ? 

Sao. Ay, upon my life. 

The English General, the Mylor' Nonis, 5$ 

That serv'd amongst you here, he parallel'd 
With you at all parts, and in some preferr'd him; 
And Colonel Williams, a Welsh Colonel, 
He made a man that at your most contain'd you : 
Which the Welsh herald of their praise, the cuckoo, 60 

Would scarce have put in his monology — 
In jest and said with reverence to his merits. 

Byr, With reverence ? Reverence scorns him ; by the 
Of all her merits in me, he shall rue it. 
Did ever Curtian Gulf play such a part ? 65 

Had Curtius been so us'd, if he had brook'd 
That ravenous whirlpool, ponr'd his solid spirits 
Through earth' dissolved sinews, stopp'd her vtm. 
And rose with saved Rome, upon his back ; 
As I swum pools of fire and gulls of brass 70 

To save my country, thrust this venturous arm 
Beneath her ruins, took her on my neck 
And set her safe on her appeased shore ? 
And opes the King a fouler bog than this. 
In his so rotten bosom to devour . 75 

Him that devour'd what else had swallow'd him. 
In a detraction so with spite embru'd. 
And drown such good in such ingratitude ? 
My spirit as yet, but stooping to his rest, 
Sbinm hotly in him, as the sun in clouds So 

Purpled and made proud with a 'peaceful even : . ,• 


Bnt when I throughly set to him, his cheeks 
Will, like those clouds, forego their colour quite, 
And his whole blaze smoke into endless night. 

Sou, Nay, nay, we must have no such gall, my lord, 85 

Overflow our friendly livers ; my relation 
Only delivers my inflamed zeal 
To your religious merits ; which, methinks. 
Should make your Highness canoniz'd a saint. 

Byr. What had his arms been, without my slrm, 90 

That with his motion made the whole field move ? 
And this held up, we still had victory. • 

When overcharged with number, his few friends - • 
Retir'd amaz'd, I set them on assured, 

And what rude ruin seized on I confirm'd ; ^5 

When I left leading, all his army reel'd. 
One fell on other foul, and as the Cyclop 
That, having lost his eye, struck every way. 
His blows directed to no certain scope. 

Or as, the soul departed from the body, xoo 

The body wants coherence in his parts, 
Cannot consist, but sever and dissolve; 
So, I remov'd once, all his armies shook. 
Panted, and fainted, and were ever fl3ang, 
Like wandering pulses spers'd through bodies dying. . 105 

Sav, It cannot be denied ; 'tis all so true 
That what seems arrogance, is desert in you. 

Byr, What monstrous humours feed a prince's blood. 
Being bad to good men, and to bad men gOod I 

Sav. Well, let these contradictions pass, my lord, no 

Till they be reconciled, or put in form. 
By power given to your will, and you present 
The fashion of a perfect government : • 

In mean space btit a word, we have small, time 
To spend in private, which I wish may be 115 

With aU advantage taken : Lord La Fin — 

Ron. Is't not a face of excellent presentment ? . 
Though not so amorous with pure white and red. 
Yet is the whole proportion singular. 

Roch. That ever I beheld 1 

Bret. It hath good lines, 120 

And tracts drawn through it; the [profile] rare. 

Ron, I heard the famous and right learned Esurl 
And Archbishop of Lyons» Pierre Pinac 


(Who was reported to have wondrous judgment - 

In men's events and natures by their looks), 125 

Upon his death-bed visited by this Duke, 

He told his sister, when his Grace was gone, 

That he had never yet observed a face 

Of worse presage than this ; and I will swear 

That, something seen in physiognomy, 130 

I do not find in all the rules it gives 

One slend'rest blemish tending to mishap, 

But, on the opposite part, as we may see. 

On trees late-blossom'd, when all frosts are past, 

How they are taken, and what will be fruit : 135 

So on this tree of sceptres I discern 

How it is loaden with appearances, 

Rules answering rules, and glances crown'd with glances. 

He snatches away the picture 
Byr. What I Does he take my picture ? 
Sav, Ay, my lord. 

Byr, Your Highness will excuse me ; I will give you 140 

My likeness put in statue, not in picture. 

And by a statuary of mine own, 

That can in brass express the wit of man, 

And in his form make all men see his virtues : 

Others that with much strictness imitate 145 

The something-stooping carriage of my neck, 

The voluble and mild radiance of mine eyes. 

Never observe my masculine aspect 

And lion-like instinct it shadoweth, 

Which Envy cannot say is flattery : 150 

And I will have my image promis'd you. 

Cut in such matter as shall ever last. 

Where it shall stand, fix'd with eternal roots 

And with a most unmoved gravity ; 

For I will have the famous mountain Oros, 155 

That looks out of the duchy where I govern 

Into your Highness' dukedom, first made yours. 

And then ¥dth such inimitable art 

Expressed and handled, chiefly from the place 

Where most conspicuously he shows his face, 160 

That, though it keep the true form of that hill 

In all his longitudes and latitudes, 

His height, his distances, and full proportion. 

Yet shall it clearly bear my counterfeit. 


Both in my face and all my lineaments ; 165 

And every man shall say : This is Byron ! 

Within my left hand I will hold a city. 

Which is the city Amiens, at whose siege 

I served so memorably; from my right 

111 pour an endless flood into a sea 170 

Raging beneath me, which shall intimate 

My ceaseless service drunk up by the King, 

As th' ocean drinks up rivets and makes all 

Bear his proud title : ivory, brass, and gold. 

That thieves may purchase, and be bought and sold, 175 

Shall not be us'd about me ; lasting worth 

Shall only set the Duke of Byron forth. 

Sav, O that your statuary could express you 
\^th any nearness to your own instructions! 
That statue would I prize past all the jewels 180 

\^thin my cabinet of Beatrice, 
The nuttmory of my grandame Portugal. 
Idost royal Duke, we cannot long endure 
To be "dius private ; let us then conclude 
With this great resolution that your wisdom 185 

Will not forget to cast a pleasing veil 
Over your anger, that may hide each glance 
Of any notice taken of your wrong. 
And ^ow yourself the more obseqiiious. 

'Tis but the virtue of a little patience ; 190 

There are so oft attempts made 'gainst his person. 
That sometimes they may speed, for they are plants 
That spring the more for cutting, and at last 
Will cast their wished shadow, mark, ere long I 

Enter Nemours, Soissons 

See who comes here, my lord, [aside] as now no more, 195 

Now must we turn our stream another way. — 

My lord, I humbly thank his Majesty 

That he would grace my idle time spent here 

With entertainment of your princely person. 

Which, worthily, he keeps for his own bosom. 200 

My lord, the Duke Nemours, and Count Soissons! 

Your honours have been bountifully done me 

In often visitation : let me pray you 

To see some jewels now, and help my choice 

In making up a present for the King. 205 


Nem. Your Highness shall much grace us. 

Sav. I am doubtful 

That I have much incens'd the Duke Byron 
With praising the King's worthiness in arms 
So much past all men. 

Sots. He deserves it highly. 

Exit [Savoy with the Lords]. Manet Byron and Ijsl Fin 

Byr. What wrongs are these, laid on me by the King, 2x0 
To equal others' worths in war with mine 1 
Endure this, and be tum'd into his moil 
To bear his sumptures ; honoured friend, be true, 
And we will turn these torrents. Hence, the King 1 

Exit La Fin 

Enter Henry, Epemon, Vitry, Janin. 

Hen, Why suffer you that ill-aboding vermin 215 

To breed so near your bosom ? Be assur'd 
His haunts are ominous ; not the throats of ravens 
Spent on infected houses, howls of dogs 
When no sound stirs at midnight, apparitions. 
And strokes of spirits clad in black men's shapes, 220 

Or ugly women's, the adverse decrees 
Of consteUations, nor security 
In vicious peace, are surer fatal ushers 
Of [feral] mischiefs and mortalities 

Than this prodigious fiend is, where he fawns : 225 

La Fiend, and not La Fin, he should be call'd. 

Byr. Be what he will, men in themselves entire 
March safe with naked feet on coals of fire : 
I build not outward, nor depend on props. 
Nor choose my consort by 'die common ear, 230 

Nor by the moonshine in the grace of kings ; 
So rare are true deservers lov'd or known. 
That men lov'd vulgarly are ever none, 
Nor men grac'd servilely for being spots 

In princes' trains, though borne even with their crowns : 235 
The stallion^ Power, hath such a besom tail 
That it sweeps all from justice, and such filth 
He bears out in it that men mere exempt 
Are merely clearest ; men will shortly buy 
Friends from the prison or the pillory 240 

Rather than Honour's markets. I fear none 


But foul ingratitude and detraction 
In all the brood of villany. 

Hen. No ? not Treason ? 

Be circumspect, for to a credulous eye 

He comes invisible, veil'd with flattery ; 245 

And flatterers look Uke friends, as wolves like dogs. 
And as a glorious poem fronted well 
With many a goodly herald of his praise. 
So far from hate of praises to his face 

That he prays men to praise him, and they ride 250 

Before, with trumpets in their mouths, proclaiming 
Life to the holy fury of his lines — 
All drawn, as if with one eye he had leer'd 
On his lov'd hand and led it by a rule. 

That his plumes only imp the Muses' wings, 255 

He sleeps with them, his head is napp'd with bajrs, 
iiis lips break out with nectar, his tun'd feet 
Are of the great last, the perpetual motion, — 
And he puff'd with their empty breath believes 
Full merit eas'd those passions of wind, 260 

Which yet serve but to praise, and cannot merit, 
And so his fury in their air expires : 
So de la Fin and such corrupted heralds, 
Hir'd to encourage and to glorify, 

May force what breath they will into their cheeks 265 

Fitter to blow up bladders than full men ; 
Yet may pufl men too with persuasions 
That they are gods in worth and may rise kings 
With treading on their noises ; yet the worthiest, 
From only his own worth receives his spirit, 270 

And right is worthy bound to any merit ; 
Which right shall you have ever; leave him then, 
He follows none but mark'd and wretched men. 
And now for England you shall go, my lord, 
Our Lord Ambassador to that matchless Queen ; 275 

You never had a voyage of such pleasure. 
Honour, and worthy objects ; there's a Queen 
Where Nature keeps her state, and State her Court, 
Wisdom her study, Continence her fort ; 

Where Magnanimity, Humanity, 280 

Firmness in counsel and Integrity, 
Girace to her poorest subjects. Majesty 
To awe the greatest, have respecte divine, 


And in her each part, all the virtaes shine. 

Exit Henry [cum suis] : man^ Byron 
Byr. Enjoy yonr will awhile, I may have mine. 285 

Wherefore, before I part to this ambassage, 
I'll be resolv'd by a magician 
That dwells hereby, to whom I'll go disguis'd 
And show him my birth's figure, set before 
By one of his profession, of the which 290 

I'll crave his judgment, feigning I am sent 
From some great personage, whose nativity 
He wisheth should be censur'd by his skill. 
But on go my plots, be it good or ill. Exit 

[SCENA in 


The House of the Astrologer] 

Enter La Brosse 

LaB, This hour by all rules of astrology 
Is dangerous to my peiison, if not deadly. 
How hapless is our knowledge to foretell. 
And not be able to prevent a mischief : 

O the strange difference 'twixt us and the stars ; 5 

They work with inclinations strong and fatal. 
And nothing know ; and we know all their working, 
And nought can do, or nothing can prevent 1 
Rude ignorance is beastly, knowledge wretched ; 
The heavenly Powers envy what they enjoin ; 10 

We are commanded t'imitate their natures. 
In making all our ends eternity. 
And in that imitation we are plagued. 
And worse than they esteem'd that have no souls 
But in their nostrils, and like beasts expire, 15 

As they do that are ignorant of arts. 
By drowning their eternal parts in sense 
And sensual affectations : while we live 
Our good parts take away, the more they give. 

[Enier] Bytoa iolus^ disguised Hke a Carrier of Letters . 

Byr, [ctstde"] Th^ forts that favourites hold in princes' 
hearts, 20 

In common subjects' loves, and their own strengths, 


Are not so sure and inexpugnable 
But that the more they are presum'd upon, 
The more they fail: daily and hourly proof 
Tells us prosperity is at highest degree 3^5 

The fount and handle of calamity : 
Like dust before a whirlwind those men fly 
That prostrate on the grounds of Fortune lie; 
And being great, like trees that broadest ^irout. 
Their own top-heavy state grubs up their root. |o 

These apprehensions startle all my powers. 
And arm them with suspicion gainst themadvea. • 
In my late projects I have cast m3rself 
Into the arms of others, and will see 

If they will let me fall, or toss me up 35 

Into 'th* afEected compass of a thxoiie. — 
God save you, sir! 
La B, Y' are welcome, friend ; what would you ? 

Byr. I would entreat you^ for some crowns I bring, 
To give your judgment of this figure cast, 
To know, by his nativity there seen, 40 

What sort of end the person shall endure 
Who sent me to you and whose birth it is. 
La B, I'll herein do my best in your desire. 

[He contempUUes the figyre] 
The man is rais'd out of a good descent, 
And nothing older than yourself, I think; 45 

Is it not you ? 

Byr. I will not tell you that : i 

But tell me on what end he shall arrive. 

LaB, My son, I see that he, whose end is cast 
In this set figure, is of noble parts. 

And by his military valour rais'd 50 

To princely honours, and may be a king; 
But that I see a CaptU Algol here 
That hinders it, I fear. 

Byr. A Caput Algol ? 

What's that, I pray ? 

La B. Forbear to ask me, son ; 

You bid me speak what fear bids me conceal. 55 

Byr, You have no cause to fear, and therefore speak. 
LaB. You'll rather wish you had been ignorant. 
Than be instructed in a thing so ill. 
Byr. Igaocance is an idle salve for ill ; 


And therefore do not urge me to enforce 60 

What I would freely know ; for by the skill 

Shown in thy aged hairs I'll lay thy brain 

Here scatter'd at my feet and seek in that 

What safely thou must utter with thy tongue. 

If thon deny it. 

La B. Will you not allow me 65 

To hold my peace ? What less can I desire ? 
If not, be pleased with my constrained speech. 

Byr, Was ever man yet pcmish'd for expressing 
What he was charged ? Be free, and speak the worst. 

La B. Then briefly this : the man hath lately done 70 

An action that will make him lose his head. 

Byr. Cuis'd be thy throat and soul, raven, screech-owl, 
hagl [BeoHng La Brosse] 

La B. O, hold, for heaven's sake, hold \ 

Byr, Hold on, I will. 

Vault and contractor of all horrid sounds. 
Trumpet of all the miseries in hell, 75 

Of my confosiona, of the shameful end 
Of all my services ; witch, fiend, accnrs'd 
For ever be the pcMson of thy tongue. 
And let the black fume of thy venom'd breath 
Infect the air, shrink heaven, put out the stars, do 

And rain so fell and blue a plague on earth, 
That all the world may falter with my fall. 

LaB, Pity my age, my lord. 

Byr. Out, prodigy, 

Remedy of pity, mine of flint, 

Whence with my naUs and feet I'll dig enough 85 

Horror and savage cruelty to build 
Temples to Massacre : dam of devils take thee 1 
Had'st thou no better aid to crown my parts. 
The bulls of Colchis, nor his triple neck. 
That howls out earthquakes, the most mortal vapours 90 

That ever stifled and struck dead the fowls. 
That flew at never such a sightly pitch, 
Could not have burnt my blood so. 

LaB. I told truth, 

And could have flatter'd you. 

Byr. O that thou had'st 1 

Would I had given tliee twenty thousand crowns 95 

That tfaon had'st flattar'd me ; there's no joy «n earth. 


Never so rational, so pure, and holy, • 

But is a jester, parasite, a whore, . . * 

In the most worthy parts, with which they please 

A drunkenness of soul and a disease. lOO 

LaB, I knew you not. 

Byr, Peace, dog of Pluto, peace 1 

Thou knew'st my end to come, not me htfe present : 
Pox of your halting human knowledges ! 

Death, how far ofiE hast thou kill'd, how soon 

A man may know too much, though never nothing \ 105 

Spite of the stars and all astrology 

1 will not lose my head ; or if I do 

A hundred thousand heads shall off before. 

I am a nobler substance than the stars. 

And shall the baser overrule the better ? no 

Or are they better, since they are the bigger ? 

I have a will and faculties of choice. 

To do, or not to do : and reason why 

I do, or not do this : the stars have none ; 

They know not why they shine, more than this taper, 115 

Nor how they work, nor what : I'll change my course^ 

I'll piece-meal pull the frame of all my thoughts, 

And cast my wLQ into another mould : 

And where are all your Caput Algols then ? 

Your planets all, being underneath the earth 120 

At my nativity, what can they do ? 

MaUgnant in aspects, in bloody houses ? 

Wild fire consume them 1 one poor cup of wine 

More than I use, tha[n] my weak brain will bear, • 

Shall make them drunk and reel out of their sphei^es . 125 

For any certain act they can enforce. 

O that mine arms were wings that I might fly» 

And pluck out of their hearts my destiny I 

I'll wear those golden spurs upon my heels. 

And kick at fate ; be free, all worthy spirits, 130 

And stretch yourselves for greatness and for height, 

Untruss your slaveries ; 3rou have height enough 

Beneath this steep heaven to use all your reaches.; 

'Tis too far oflF to let you, or respect you. 

Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea 155 

Loves t'have his sails fill'd with a lusty wind. 

Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack, ! • 

And his rapt ship ran on her side so low 



That she drinks water, and her keel plows air. 
There is no danger to a man that knows 140 

What life and death is ; there's not any law 
Exceeds his knowledge ; neither is it lawful 
That he should stoop to any other law. 
He goes before them, and commands them all. 
That to himself is a law rational. 145 



[A Room in the Courf] 
Enter D'Aumont, with Crequi 


D*Aum. The Duke of Byron is retum'd from England, 
And, as they say, was princely entertain'd, 
School'd by the matchless queen there, who, I hear. 
Spake most divinely ; and would gladly hear 
Her speech reported. 

Creq. 1 can serve yx>ur turn, 5 

As one that speaks from others, not from her. 
And thus it is reported at his parting. 
' Thus, Monsieur Du Byron, you have beheld 
Our Court proportion'd to our Uttle kingdom 
In every entertaiament ; yet our mind 10 

To do you all the rites of your repair 
Is as unbounded as the ample air. 
"What idle pains have you bestow'd to see 
A poor old woman, who in nothing lives 
More than in true affections borne your King, 15 

And in the perfect knowledge she hath leam'd 
Of his good knights and servants of yt>ar sort ! 
We thank him that he keeps the memory 
Of us and all our kindness ; but must say 
That it is only kept, and not laid out 20 

To such affectionate profit as we wish. 
Being so much set on fire with his deserts 
That they consimie us, not to be restor'd 
By your presentment of him, but his person : 
And we had [not] thought that he whose virtues fly ^5 


So beytmd wonder and the reach of thought. 

Should check at eight hours' sail, and his high spirit. 

That stoope to fear, less than the poles of heaven, 

Should doubt an under-biliow of the sea. 

And, being a sea, be sparing of his streams : 30 

And I must blame all you that may advise him. 

That, having help'd him through all martial dangers, 

You let him stick at the kind rites of peace. 

Considering all the forces I have sent. 

To set his martial seas up in firm walls 35 

On both his sides for him to pass at pleasure, 

Did plainly open him a guarded way 

And led in nature to this friendly shore. 

But here is nothing worth his personal sight, 

Here are no walled cities ; for that Cr3^tal 40 

Sheds, with his light, his hardness and his height 

About our thankful person and our realm. 

Whose only aid we ever yet desired. 

And now I see the help we sent to him. 

Which should have swum to him in our own blood, 45 

Had it been needful (our affections 

Being more given to his good than he himself). 

Ends in the actual right it did his state. 

And ours is slighted ; all our worth is made 

The common stock and bank, from whence are serv'd 50 

All men's occasions ; yet, thanks to Heaven, 

Their gratitudes are drawn dry, not our bounties. 

And you shall tell your King that he neglects 

Old Mends for new, and sets his soothed ease 

Above his honour; marshals policy 55 

In rank before his justice, and his profit 

Before his royalty ; his humanity gone, 

To make me no repa3mient of mine own'. 

D'Aum. What answered the Duke ? 

Creq. In this sort. 

' Your Highness' sweet speech hath no sharper end 60 

Than he would wish his life, if he neglected 
The least grace you have nam'd ; but to his wish 
Much power is wanting : the green roots of war 
Not yet so close cut up, but he may dash 
Against their reUcs to his utter ruin, 65 

\^thout more near eyes fix'd upon his feet. 
Than those that look out <^ his cooatry's soil. 


And this may wdl exciue his personal presence. 

Which yet he oft hath long'd to set by yours. 

That he nught imitate the majesty, 70 

Which so long peace hath practis'd, and made full 

In your admir'd appearance, to illustrate 

And rectify his habit in rude war. 

And his will to be here must needs be great. 

Since Heaven hath thron'd so true a royalty here, 75 

That he thinks no king absolutely crown'd 

Whose temples have not stood beneath this sky, 

And whose^ height is not harden'd with these stars. 

Whose influences, for this altitude 

Distill'd and wrought in with this temperate air 80 

And this division of the element, 

Have with your reign brought iorth more wor&y spirits 

For counsel, valour, height of wit and art. 

Than any other r^on of ihe earth. 

Or were brought forth to all your ancestors. 85 

And as a cunning orator reserves 

His fairest similes, best-adorning figures. 

Chief matter, and most moving arguments 

For his conclusion ; and doth then supply 

His ground-streams laid before, glides over them, 90 

Makes his full depth seen through ; and so takes up 

His audience in applauses past the douds : 

So in your government, conclusive Nature 

(Willing to end her excellence in earth 

When your foot shall be set upon the stars) 95 

Shows all her sovereign beauties, ornaments. 

Virtues, and raptures ; overtakes her works 

In former empires, makes them but your foils ; 

Swells to her full sea, and again doth dzown 

The worid in admiration of your crown'. xoo 

D*4f^m. He did her, at all parts, confessed right. 
Creq. She took it yet but as a part of courtship. 

And said ' he was the subtle orator 

To whom he did too gloriously resemble 

Nature in her and in her government'. 105 

He said ' he was no orator, but a soldier, 

More than this air in which 3rou breathe hath made me, 

My studious love of your rare government. 

And simple truth, ^^ch is most eloquent ; 

Your Empire is so amply absolute no 

CD.W. o 


That even your theatres show more comely rule, 

True noblesse, royalty, and happiness 

Than others' Courts : you make all state before 

Utterly obsolete ; all to come, twice sod. 

And therefore doth my royal Sovereign wish 115 

Your years may prove as vital as your virtues. 

That (standing on his turrets this way tum'd, 

Ord'ring and fixing his affairs by yours) 

He may at last, on firm groundis, pass your seas. 

And see that maiden-sea of majesty, 120 

In whose chaste arms so many kingdoms lie '. 

D'Aum, When came she to her touch of his ambition ? 

Creq, In this speech following, which I thus remember : 
' If I hold any merit worth his presence. 
Or any part of that your courtship gives me, 125 

My subjects have bestow'd it ; some in counsel. 
In action some, and in obedience all ; 
For none knows with such proof as you, my lord. 
How much a subject may renown his prince. 
And how much princes of their subjects hold : 130 

In all the services that ever subject 
Did for his sovereign, he that best deserv'd 
Must, in comparison, except Byron ; 
And to win this prize dear, without the maims 
Commonly given men by ambition 135 

When all their parts lie open to his view. 
Shows continence, past their other excellence; 
But for a subject to affect a kingdom. 
Is like the camel that of Jove begg'd horns; 
And such mad-hungry men as well may eat 140 

Hot coals of fire to feed liieir natural heat : 
For to aspire to competence with your King, 
What subject is so gross and giantly ? 
He having now a Dauphin bom to him, ^ 

Whose birth, ten days before, was dreadfully 145 

Usher'd vnih. earthquakes in most parts of Europe ; 
And that gives all men cause enough to fear 
All thought of competition with him. 
Commend us, good my lord, and tell our brother 
How much we joy in that his royal issue, 150 

And in what prayers we raise our hearts to heaven. 
That in more terror to his foes and wonder 
He may drink earthquakes, and devour the thunder. 


So we admire your valour and your virtaes. 

And ever wUl contend to win their honour'. 155 

Then spake she to Crequi and Prince d'Auveigne, 

And gave all gracious fereweUs; when Byron ' >« 

Was thus encounter'd by a Councillor 

Of great and eminent name and matchless merit : 

'I think, my lord, your princely Dauphin bears 160 

Anon on his cradle through your kingdom. 

In the sweet music joy strikes from his birth'. 

He answer'd : ' And good right ; the cause commands it '. 

' But ', said the other, ' had we a fift Henry 

To claim his old right, and one man to friend 165 

(Whom you well know, my lord), that for his friendship 

Were promised the vice-royalty of France, 

We would not doubt of conquest, in desj^te 

Of all those windy earthquakes '. He replied : 

'Treason was never guide to English conquests, 170 

And therefore that doubt shall not fright our Dauphin ; 

Nor would I be the friend to such a foe 

For all the royalties in Christendom '. 

' Fix there your foot ', said he, ' I only give 

False fire, and would be loath to shoot you o£E : 175 

He that wins empire with the loss of faith 

Out-bu3rs it, and will bankrout ; you have laid 

A brave foundation by the hand of virtue ; 

Pat not the roof to fortune : foolish statuaries, 

That under little saints suppose great bases 180 

Make less to sense the saints ; and so, where Fortune 

Advanceth vile minds to states great and noble. 

She much the more exposeth them to shame. 

Not able to make good and fill their bases 

With a conformed structure : I have found 185 

(Thanks to the Blesser of my search), that counsels 

Held to the line of justice still produce 

The surest states, and greatest, being sure ; 

\'^thout which fit assurance, in the greatest — 

As you may see a mighty promontory 190 

More dig^d and under-eaten than may warrant 

A safe supportance to his hanging brows ; 

AH passengeiB avoid him^ shun all ground 

That lies within his shadow, aad bear stiU 

A flying eye upon him : so great men, 195 

Corrapted in their grounds, and building out 


Too swelling fronts for their foundations, 

When most they should be pfropp^d are most forsaken ; 

And men will rather thrust into the storms 

Of better-grounded states tiian take a shelter 200 

Beneath their ruinous and fearful weight ; 

Yet they so oversee their faulty bases, 

That they remain securer in Conceit : 

And that security doth worse presage 

Their near destructions than their eaten grounds ; 205 

And therefore heaven itself is made to us 

A perfect hieroglyphic to express 

The idleness of such security, 

And the grave labour of a wise distrust, 

In both sorts of the all-inclining stars, 210 

Where all men note this difference in* their^ shining. 

As plain as they distinguish either hand, 

The fixed stars waver, and the erring stand '. 

D'Aufn, How took he liiis so worthy admonition ? 

Creq. ' Gravely applied ', said he, ' and like the man, 215 
Whom, all the world says, overrules the Stars ; 
Which are divine books to us, and are read 
By understanders only, the true objects 
And chief companions of the truest men ; 
And, though I need it not, I. thank your counsel, 220 

That never yet was idle, but, sphereUke, 
Still moves about and is the continent 
To this blest isle '. 


[A Room %H the Co»r(\ 
• ■ 
Enter B3rron, D'Auvergne, La Fin, 

Byr, The circle of this ambaasy is^dos'd. 
For which I long have long'd for mine own ends. 
To see my faithful, and leave courtly itie&di ; 
To whom I came, methought, with such a spirit. 
As you have seen a lusty courser show 


That hath bean long time at his flaanger tied. 

High fed, alone, and when, hiB headstall broken, 

He mns his prieon, like a tnunpet neighs, 

CutB air in high cnrvete, and shakes his head. 

With wanton stoppings, 'twixt his forelegs, mocking 10 

The heavy centre, ^reads his flying crest. 

Like to an ensign, hedge and ditches leaping, 

Till in the fresh meat, at his natural food. 

He sees free fellows, and hath met them free. 

And now, good friend, I would be fain informed, 15 

What our right princely lord, the Duke of Savoy . 

Hath thought on, to employ my coming home. 

La F, To try the King's trust in you, and withal 
How hot he trails on our conspiiacy. 

He first would have you beg tiie government, 30 

Of the important citadel of Bourg, 
Or to place in it any you shall name ; 
Which will be wondrous fit to march before 
His other purposes, and is a fort 

He rates in love above his patrimony ; 25 

To make which fortress worthy of your suit. 
He vows, if you obtain it, to bestow 
His third fair daughter on your Excellence, 
And hopes the King will not deny it you. 

Byr, Deny it me ? Deny me such a suit ? 30 

Who will he grant, if he deny it me ? 

La. F. He'll find some politic shift to do't, I fear. 

Byr, What shift, or what evasion can he find ? 
What one patch is there in all Policy's shop, 
That botcher-up of kingdoms, that can mend 35 

The brack betwixt us, any way denying ? 

D'Auv. That's at your peril. 

Byr, Come, he dares not do't. 

D'Auu. Dares not ? Presume not so ; you know, good 
That all things he thinks fit to do, he dares. 

Byr. By heaven, I wonder at you ; I will ask it 40 

As sternly, and secure of all repulse, 
As th' ancient Persians did when they implored 
Their idol, fire, to grant them any boon ; 
With which they would descend into a flood. 
And threaten there to quench it, if they fail'd 45 

Of that they ask'd it. 


La F. Said like yofor King's king ; 

Cold hath no act in depth, nor are suits wrought. 
Of any high price, that are coldly sought ; 
I'll haste, and with your courage comfort Savoy. 

Exit La Fin 

D'Auo, I am your friend, my lord, and will deserve 50 
That name, with following any course you take ; 
Yet, for your own sake, I could wish your spirit 
Would let you spare all broad terms of the King ; 
Or, on my life, you will at last repent it. 

Byr. What can he do ? 

D'Auv. All that you cannot fear. 55 

Byr, You fear too much ; be by when next I see him. 
And see how I will urge him in this suit; 
He comes : mark you, that think he will not grant it. 

Enter Henry, Epemon, Soissons, Janin 

I am become a suitor to your Highness. 

Hen, For what, my lord, 'tis like you shall obtain. 60 

Byr. I do not much doubt that ; my services, 
I hope, have more strength in your go€>d conceit 
Than to receive repulse in such requests. 

Hen. What is it ? 

Byr, That you would bestow on one whom I shall name 65 
The keeping of the citadel of Bourg. 

Hen. Excuse me, sir, I must not grant you that. 

Byr. Not grant me that t 

Hen. It is not fit I should : 

You are my governor in Burgundy, 

And province governors, that command in chief, 70 

Ought not to have the charge of fortresses ; 
Besides, it is the chief key of my kingdom, 
That opens towards Italy, and must therefore 
Be given to one that hath immediately 
Dependence on us. 

Byr. These are wondrous reasons : 75 

Is not a man depending on his merits 
As fit to have the charge of such a key 
As one that merely hangs upon your humours ? 

Hen. Do not enforce your merits so yourself ; 
It takes away their lustre and reward. 80 

Byr. But you will grant my suit ? 


Hen, I swear I cannot, 

Keeping the credit of my brain and place. 

Byr, Will you deny me, then ? 

Hen, I am enforc'd : 

I have no power, more than yourself, in things 
That are beyond my reason. 

Byr. Than myself ? 85 

That's a strange slight in your comparison ; 
Am I become th' example of such men 
As have least power ? Such a diminutive ? 
I was comparative in the better sort ; 

And such a King as you would say, I cannot 90 

Do such or such a thing, were I as great 
In power as he ; even that indefinite ' he ' 
Express'd me full : this moon is strangely chang'd. 

Hen, How can I help it ? Would you have a king 
That hath a white beard have so green a brain ? 95 

Byr, A plague of brain ! What doth this touch your brain ? 
You must give me more reason, or I swear — 

Hen. Swear ? What do you swear ? 

Byr. I swear you wrong me. 

And deal not like a king, to jest and slight 
A man that you should curiously reward ; 100 

Tell me of your grey beard ! It is not grey 
With care to recompense me, who eas'd your care. 

Hen. You have been recompens'd from head to foot. 

Byr. With a distrusted dukedom. Take your dukedom, 
Bestow'd on me, again ; it was not given 105 

For any love, but fear and force of shame. 

Hen, Yet 'twas your honour ; which, if you respect not, 
Why seek you this addition ? 

Byr, Since this honour 

Would show you lov'd me, too, in trusting me; 
Without whidi love and trust honour is shame, 110 

A very pageant and a property : 
Honour, with all his adjuncts, I deserve ; 
And you quit my deserts with your grey beard. 

Hen. Since you expostulate the matter so, 
I tell you plain another reason is, 115 

Why I am mov'd to make you this denial, 
That I suspect you to have had intelligence 
With my vow'd enemies. 

Byr, Biisery of virtue. 


HI is made good with worse 1 This reason pours 

Poison for bahn into the wound you made ; 120. 

You make me mad, and rob me of my soul, 

To take away my tried love and my truth. 

Which of my labours, which of all my wounds, 

Which overtiirow, which battle won for you. 

Breeds this suspicion ? Can the blood of faith 125 

(Lost in all these to find it proof and strength) 

Beget disloyalty ? All my rain is fall'n 

Into the horse-fair, springing pools, and mire. 

And not in thankful grounds or fields of fruit : 

Fall then before us, O thou flaming Crystal, 130 

That art the uncorrupted register 

Of all men's merits, and remonstrate here 

The fights, the dangers, the affrights and horrors. 

Whence I have rescu'd this imthankful King ; 

And show, conmiix'd with them, the joys, the glories 135 

Of his state then, then his kind thoughts of me. 

Then my deservings, now my infamy : 

But I will be mine own king ; I will see 

That all your chronicles be fill'd with me. 

That none but I and my renowned sire 140 

Be said to win the memorable fields 

Of Arques and Dieppe ; and none but we of all 

Kept you from dying there in an hospital ; 

None but m3melf that won the day at Dreux 

(A day of holy name, and needs no night) ; 145 

Nor none but I at Fountaine Fran^oise burst 

The heart-strings of the Leaguers ; I alone 

Took Amiens in these arms, and held her fast 

In spite of all the pitchy fires she cast. 

And clouds of bullets pour'd upon my breast, 150 

Till she show'd yours, and took her natural form ; 

Only m3rself (married to victory) 

Did people Artois, Douai, Picaxdy, 

B^thune and Saint-Paul, Bapaume and Courcelles, 

With her triumphant issue. 

Hen. Ha, ha, ha I Exit 155 

B3n:on drawing and is held by D'Auvergne 

D'Auv, O hold, my lord ; for my sake, mighty spirit I 

Exit [Bjrron followed by D'Auvergne] 



Another Room in the Court] 
Enter Byron, D'Auvergne following unseen 

Byr. Respect, Revenge; Slaughter, repay for laughter. 
What's grave in earth, what awful, what abhorr'd. 
If my rage be ridiculous ? I will make it 
The law and rule of all things serious. 

So long as idle and ridiculous King[s] 5 

Are sufEer'd, sooth'd, and wrest all right to safety, 
So long is Mischief gathering massacres 
For their curs'd kingdoms, which I will prevent. 
Laughter ? I'll fright it from him, far as he 
Hath cast irrevocable shame ; which ever 10 

Being found is lost, and, lost, retumeth never ; 
Should kings cast off their bounties with their dangers ? 
He that can warm at fires where Virtue bums, 
Hunt pleasure through her torments, nothing feel 
Of all his subjects suffer ; but, long hid 15 

In wants and miseries, and having pass'd 
Through aU the gravest shapes of worth and honour. 
For all heroic fa^ions to be leani*d 
By those hard lessons show an antic vizard — 
Who would not wish him rather hew'd to nothing 20 

Than left so monstrous ? Slight my services ? 
Drown the dead noises of my sword in laughter ? 
(My blows as but the passages of shadows. 
Over the highest and most barren hills) 

And use me like no man, but as he took me 25 

Into a desert, gash'd with aU my wounds 
Sustained for him, and buried me in flies ? 
Forth, Vengeance, then, and open wounds in him 
Shall let in Spain and Savoy. 

Offers to draw and D'Auvergne agmin holds him 

D'Auv. O my lord. 

This is too large a licence given your fury ; 30 

Give time to it; what. reason suddenly 
Cannot extend, respite doth oft supply. 

Byr, While respite holds revenge the wrcmg redoubles. 
And so the shame of sufferance ; it torments me 
To think what I endure at his shrunk hands, 35 

That scorns the gift of one poor fort to me, 


That have subdu'd for him (O injury I) 
Forts, cities, countries, ay, and yet my fury — 

[Exiturus. Enter Henry] 

Hen. Byron ? 

D'Auv. My lord, the King calls ! 

Hen. Turn, I pray. 

How now, from whence flow these distracted faces ? 40 

From what attempt return they, as disclaiming 
Their late heroic bearer ? What, a pistol ? 
Why, good my lord, can mirth make you so wrathful ? 

Byr. Mirth ? 'Twas Mockery, a contempt, a scandal 
To my renown for ever; a repulse 45 

As miserably cold as Stygian water, 
That from sincere earth issues, and doth break 
The strongest vessels, not to be contain'd 
But in the tough hoof of a patient ass. 

Hen, My lord, your judgment is not competent 50 

In this dissension ; I may say of you 
As Fame says of the ancient Eleans 
That in th' Olympian contentions 
They ever were "tfie justest arbitrators. 

If none of them contended, nor were parties : 55 

Those that wiU moderate disputations well. 
Must not themselves affect the coronet ; 
For as the air contain'd within our ears. 
If it be not in quiet, nor refrains 

Troubling our hearing with offensive sounds 60 

(But our affected instrument of hearing. 
Replete with noise and singings in itsdf ) 
It faithfully receives no other voices ; 
So of all judgments, if within themselves 
They suffer spleen and are tumultuous, 65 

They cannot equal differences without them ; 
And this wind, that doth sing so in your ears, 
I know is no disease bred in yourself. 
But whisper'd in by others ; who in swelling 
Your veins with empty hope of much, 3ret able 70 

To perform nothing, are like shallow streams 
That make themselves so many heavens to sight. 
Since you may see in them the moon and stars, 
The blue space of the air, as far from us. 
To our weak senses, in those shallow streams, 75 

As if they were as deep as heaven is high ; 


Yet with your middle finger only sound them, 

And you shall pierce them to the very earth ; 

And therefore leave them and be true to me. 

Or you'll be left by all ; or be like one 80 

That in cold nights will needs have all the fire. 

And there is held by others, and embraced 

Only to bum him ; your fire will be inward, 

Which not another deluge can put out. 

B3rron kneels while the King goes on 
O Innocence, the sacred amulet 85 

Gainst all the poisons of infirmity. 
Of an misfortune, injury, and death. 
That makes a man in tune still in himself. 
Free from the hell to be his own accuser. 
Ever in quiet, endless joy enjoying, 90 

No strife nor no sedition in his powers, 
No motion in his will against his reason. 
No thought gainst thought, nor (as 'twere in the confines 
Of wishing and repenting) doth possess 

Only a wayward and tumultuous peace, 95 

But (all parts in him friendly and secure, 
Fruitful of all best things in all worst seasons) 
He can with every wish be in their plenty ; 
When the infectious guilt of one foul crime 
Destroys the free content of all our time. 100 

Byr. 'Tis all acknowledged, and, though all too late. 
Here the short madness of my anger ends : 
If ever I did good I lock'd it safe 
In you, th' impregnable defence of goodness ; 
If ill, I press it with my penitent knees 105 

To that unsounded depth whence nought retumeth. 

Hen, 'Tis music to mine ears ; rise then, for ever 
Quit of what guilt soever till this hour. 
And nothing touch'd in honour or in spirit. 
Rise without flattery, rise by absolute merit. no 

Enter Epemon, to the King, B3rron, etc. 

Ep. Sir, if it please you to be taught any courtship take 
you to your stand ; Savoy is at it with three mistresses at 
once ; he loves each of them best, yet all differently. 

Hen. For the time he hath be^ here, he hath talked a 
volume greater than the Turk's Alcoran ; stand up close ; his 1 15 
Ups go still. [Retiring with Byron a$^ the Lords] 


Enter Savoy with three Ladies 

Sav. Excuse me, excuse me; the King has ye all. 
15/ Lady. True sir, in honourable subjection. 

2nd Lady, To the which we are bound by our loyalty. 

Sav. Nay your excuse, your excuse 1 Intend me for afiec- 120 
tion ; you are all bearers of his favours, and deny him not 
your opposition by night. 

Srd Lady. You say rightly in that, for therein we oppose 
us to his command. 

1st Lady. In the which he never yet pressed us. 125 

2nd Lady. Such is the benediction of our peace. 

Sav. You take me still in flat misconstruction* and con- 
ceive not by me. 

1st Lady. Therein we are strong in our own purposes ; for 
it were something scandalous for us to conceive by you. 130 

2nd Lady. Though there might be question made of your 
fruitfulness, yet dry weather in harvest does no harm. 

Hen. [aside] They will talk him into Savoy ; he begins to 
hunt down. 

Sav. As the King is, and hath been, a most admired and 135 
most unmatchable soldier, so hath he been, and is, a sole 
excellent and unparalleled courtier. 

Hen. [aside] Pauvre ami, merci/ 

ist Lady. Your Highness does the King but right, sir. 

2nd Lady. And heaven shall bless you for that justice 140 
with plentiful store of want in ladies' affections. 

Sav. You are cruel, and will not vouchsafe me audience 
to any conclusion. 

1st Lady. Beseech your Grace conclude, that we may 
present our curtsies to you and give you the adieu. 145 

Sav. It is said the King will bring an army into Savoy. 

2nd Lady. Truly we are not of his council of war. 

Sav. Nay, but vouchsafe me — 

^rd Lady. Vouchsafe him, vouchsafe him, else there 's no 
play in't. 150 

1st Lady. Well, I vouchsafe your Grace. 

Sav. Let the King bring an army into Savoy, and I'll 
find him sport for forty years. 

Hen. [aside] Would I were sure of that I I should then 
have a long age, and a merry. 155 

15/ Lady. I think your Grace would play with his army at 

2nd Lady. My faith, and that's a martial recreation 1 


yrd Lady, It is next to impious conrtiiag. 

Sav, I am not he that can set my squadrons overnight, by 160 
midnight leap my horse, curry seven miles, and by three leap 
my mistress ; return to mine army again, and direct as I were 
infatigable ; I am no such tough soldier. 

1st Lady. Your disparity is believed, sir. 

2nd Lady, And 'tis a piece of virtue to tell true. 165 

yrd Lady. God's me, the King I [Discovering Henry] 

Sav. Well, I have said nothing that may ofiend. 

1st Lady. 'Tis hoped so. 

2nd Lady, If there be any mercy in laughter. 

Sav. I'll take my leave. [To Heniy] 170 

After the tedious stay my love hath made, 
Most worthy to conmoiand our earthly zeal, 
I come for pardon, and to take my leave ; 
Affirming, though I reap no other good 

By this my voyage but t'have seen a prince 175 

Of greatness in all grace so past report, 
I nothing should repent me ; and to show 
Some token of my gratitude, I have sent 
Into your treasury the greatest jewels 

In all my cabinet of Beatrice, 180 

And of my late deceased wife, th' Infanta, 
Which are two basins and their ewers of crystal. 
Never yet valu'd for their workmanship. 
Nor the exceeding riches of their matter. 
And to your stable, worthy Duke of Byron, 185 

I have sent in two of my fairest horses. 

Byr. Sent me your horses ! Upon what desert ? 
I entertain no presents but for merits, ^^ 

Which I am &ur from at your Highness' hands. 
As being of all men to you the most stranger ; 190 

There is as ample bounty in refusing 
Aa in bestowing, and with this I quit you. 

Sav. Then have I lost nought but my poor goodwill. 
Hen, Well, cousin, I with all thanks welcome that. 
And the rich arguments with which you prove it, 195 

Wishing I could to your wish welcome you. 
Draw, for your Marquisate, the articles 
Agreed on in our composition. 
And it is yours ; but where you have propos'd 
(In yoor advices) my design for Milan, 200 

I will have no war with the King of Spain 


Unless his hopes pxove weary of our peace ; 

And, princely cousin, it is fsir from me 

To think your wisdom needful of my counsel. 

Yet love oft-times must offer things unneedful ; 205 

And therefore I would counsel you to hold 

All good terms with his Majesty of Spain : 

If any troubles should be stirr'd betwixt you, 

I would not stir therein, but to appease them ; 

I have too much care of my royal word 210 

To break a peace so just and consequent. 

Without force of precedent injury ; 

Endless desires are worthless of just princes. 

And only proper to the swinge of tyrants. 

Sav. At all parts spoke like the Most Christian King. 215 
I take my humblest leave, and pray your Highness 
To hold me as your servant and poor kinsman. 
Who wisheth no supremer happiness 
Than to be yours. To you, right worthy princes, 
I wish for all your favours pour'd on me 220 

The love of all these ladies mutually, 
And, so they please their lords, that they may please 
Themselves by all means. And be you assur'd. 
Most lovely princesses, as of your lives. 
You cannot be true women if true wives. Exit 225 

Hen, Is this he, Epemon, that you would needs persuade 
us courted so absurdly ? 

Ep. This is even he, sir, howsoever he hath studied his 
parting courtship. 

Hen. In what one point seemed he so ridiculous as you 230 
would present him ? 

Ep. Behold me, sir, I beseech you behold me ; I appear to 
you as the great Duke of Savoy with these three ladies. 

Hen. Well, sir, we grant your resemblance. 

Ep. He stole a carriage, sir, from Count d'Auvergne here. 235 

D'Auv, From me, sir ? 

Ep. Excuse me, sir, from you, I assure you : here, sir, he 
lies at the Lady Antoinette, just thus, for the wodd, ia the 
true posture of Count d'Auvergne. 

D'Auv. Y'are exceeding delightsome. 240 

Hen, Why is not that well ? It came in with the organ 

Ep. Organ hose ? A pox on't t Let it pipe itaoiU into 
contempt ; he hath stolen it most feloniously, and it graces 
him like a disease. 245 


Hgn, I think he stole it from D'Auvergne indeed. 

Ep, Well, would he had robbed him of all his other 
diseases! He were then the soundest lord in France. 

D*Ai4v. As I am, sir, I shall stand all weathers with you. 

Ep, But, sir, he has praised you above th' invention 250 
of rhymers. 

Hen. Wherein, or how ? 

Ep, He took upon him to describe your victories in war, 
and where he should have said you were the most absolute 
soldier in Christendom (no ass could have missed it), he 255 
delivered you for as pretty a fellow of your hands as any 
was in France. 

Hen. Marry, God dild him t 

Ep. A pox on him 1 

Hen. Well, to be serious, you know him well 260 

To be a gallant courtier : his great wit 
Can turn him into any form he lists. 
More fit to be avoided than deluded. 
For my Lord Duke of B3rron here well knows 
That it infecteth, where it doth affect, 265 

And where it seems to counsel, it conspires. 
V^th him go all our faults, and from us fly, 
\^th all his counsel, all conspiracy. 




The Tragedy of Charles Duke of Byron 


Henry IV, King of France 
The Infant Dauphin 
The Duke of Bjrron 

The Spanish Ambassador 
La Fin 

The Vidame of Chartres, his 

French Nobles 




D'EscureS' , 

Harlay, ^ 

Potier, f Judges 

Fleury, J 

Bellidvre, the Chancellor 

Janin, a Minister of Henry 

^^"^^^^^ \ Captains of the Guard 
Vitry, j 

La Brunei, a Captain under 

Varennes, Lieutenant of Byron's 

A Bishop 

A Captain of Byron's Guard 

A Messenger 

The Hangman 

A Soldier 

The Nurse of the Dauphin 
A Lady 
Byron* s Sister 

In the Masque 

Marie de Medici, Queen of 

Mademoiselle d'Entragues, 
the King's Mistress 


Four Ladies 

Torch-bearers. Ushers, Soldiers. 

[A Room in the Court] 

Heniy, the Vidame, D'Eacures, Epemon, Janin 

Hen. Byron faU'n in so trait'rous a rek^Me, 
Alleged for our ingratitude 1 What offices. 
Titles of honour, and what admiration 
Could Ftance afford him that it pour'd not on ? 
When he was scarce arriv'd at forty years, 5 

He ran through all chief dignities of France. 
At fourteen years of age he was made Colonel 
To all the Suisses serving then in Flanders ; 
Soon after he was Marshal of the camp. 
And, shortly after. Marshal General ; xo 

He was received High Admiral of France 
In that our Parliament we held at Tours, 
Marshal of France in that we held at Paris. 
And at the siege of Amiens he acknowledg'd 
None his superior but ouxself, the King; 15 

Though I had there the Princes of the blood, 
I made him my lieutenant-General, 
I>eclar'd him jointly the prime Peer of France, 
And raised his barony into a duchy. 

Jan. And yet, my lord, all this could not allay 20 

The fatal thirst of his ambition ; 
For some have heard him say he would not die 
Till on the wings of valour he had reach'd 
One degree higher; and had seen his head 
Set on the royal quarter of a crown : 25 

Yea, at so unbeUev'd a pitch he aim'd 
That he hath said his heart would still complain 
Till he aspir'd the style of Sovereign. 
And from what ground, my lord, rise all the levies 
Kow made in Italy ? From whence should spring. 30 



The wariike bnmonr of the Conat Fnentes, 

The restless sturings of the Dnke of Savoy, 

The discontent the Spaniard entertain'd, 

With sach a threateoing ftuy, when he heard 

The prejudicial conditiona 35 

Propos'd him in the treaty held at Vervina, 

And many other braveries this way aiming. 

But from some hope of inward aid from hence ? 

And that all this directly aims at you 

Your Highness hath by one intelligoice 40 

Good cause to think ; which is your late advice 

That the sea anny, now prqiar'd at Naples, 

Hath an intended enteipiise on Provence ; 

Although tiie cunning Spaniard gives it out 

That all is for Algier. 

Hen. I must believe 45 

That, witiiout treason bred In our own breasts, 
Spain's affairs are not in so good estate, 
To aim at any action against Prance ; 
And if Byron should be their instrument, 

His alter'd disposition could not grow 50 

So far wide in an instant ; nor resign 
His valour to these lawless resolutions 
Upon the sndden ; nor without some charms 
Of foreign hopes and flatteries sung to him : 
But far it flies my tiioughts that snch a sfnrit, 55 

So active, valiant, and vigilant, 
Can see itself transform'd with snch wild furies. 
And UIes a dream it shows to my conceits, 
That he who by himself hath won such honour. 
And he to whom his father left so much, 60 

He that still daily reaps so much fr om me, 
~ may increase it to more proof 

.any other foreign king, 
■^<ainst the stn;am of all religion, 
^^''V^'ason, take a courae so foul, 65 

) his oath, nor save his soul. 
>eping of a citadel, 
I to be at his disposnre, 
> the whole strength of hia honours ? 
; though the violence 70 

!'/'*; Vt made him make attempt 
,'.'<a for denying him. 


Yet wen I found his loyal judgment serv'd 

To keep it fr<»n e£Eect : besides, being ofEer'd 

Two hundred thousand crowns in yearly peuaion, 75 

And to be General of all the forces 

The Spaniards had in France, they found him still 

As an unmatched Achilles in the wars. 

So a most wise Ulysses to their words, . 

Stopping his ears at their enchanted sounds ; 80 

And plain he told them that although his Uood, 

Being mov'd, by nature were a very fire 

And boil'd in apprehension of a wrong, .. 

Yet should his mind hold such a sceptre there 

As would contain it from all act and thought , 85 

Of treachery or ingratitude to his prince. 

Yet do I long, methinks, to see La Fin, 

Who hath his heart in keeping ; since his state, 

Grown to decay and he to discontent. 

Comes near the ambitious plight* of Duke Byron. 90 

My Lord Vidame, when does your lordship think 

Your unde of La Fin will be arriv'd ? 

Vid. I think, my lord^ he now is near arriving. 
For his particular journey and devotion 
Vow'd to the holy Lady of Loretto, 95 

Was long since past and he upon return. 

Hen. In him, as in a crystal that is charm'd, 
I shall discern by whom and what designs 
My rule is threaten'd ; and that sacred power 
That hath enabled this defensive arm 100 

(When I enjoy'd but an unequal nook 
Of that I now possess) to front a king 
Far my superior, and from twelve set battles 
March home a victor — ten of them obtained, 
V^thout my personal service — ^wiU not see 105 

A trait'rous subject foil me, and so end 
What his hand hath with such success begun. 

Enier a Lady and a Nurse bringing the Dauphin 

Ep. See the young Dauphin brought to cheer your 

Hen, My royal blessing and the King of Heaven 
Make thee an aged and a happy king : 1 10 

Htkp, nuxse, to put my sword into his hand. 


Hold, boy, by tbis ; and with it may thy ann 

Cut from thy tree of rule all trait'rous branches 

That strive to shadow and eclipse thy glories ; 

Have thy old father's Angel for thy guide, Z15 

Redoubled be his spirit in thy breast 

(Who, when this state ran like a turbulent sea 

In civil hates and bloody enmity. 

Their wraths and envies, like so many winds. 

Settled and burst), and like the halcyon's birth, zao 

Be thine to bring a calm upon the shore, *' 

In which the eyes of war may ever sleep 

As overmatched with former massacres. 

When guilty [lust] made noblesse feed on noblesse — 

All the sweet plenty of the realm exhausted — 125 

When the nak'd merchant was pursu'd for spoil. 

When the poor peasants frighted neediest thieves 

With their pale leanness (nothing left on them 

But meagre carcases sustain'd with air. 

Wand 'ring like ghosts affrighted from their graves), 130 

When with the often and incessant sounds 

The very beasts knew the alarum bell, 

And, hearing it, ran bellowing to their home : 

From which unchristian broils and homicides 

Let the religious sword of justice free 135 

Thee and thy kingdoms govem'd after me. 

O heaven 1 Or if th' unsettled blood of France 

With ease and wealth renew her dvil furies, 

Let all my powers be emptied in my son 

To curb and end them all, as I have done. 140 

Let him by virtue quite [cut] ofi from Fortune 

Her feathcoi^d shoulders and her winged shoes. 

And thrust from her light feet her turning stone 

That she may ever tarry by his throne. 

And of his worth let after ages say 145 

(He fighting for the land and bringing home 

Just conquests, loaden with his enemies' spoils). 

His father paas'd all France in martial deeds, 

But he his father twenty times exceeds. [Exeunt] 



At Dijon] 

Enter the Duke of Byron, D'Auvergne, and La Fin 

Byr. My dear friends, D'Auvergne and La Fin, 
We need no conjurations to conceal 
Our close int^idments to advance our states 
Even with our merits, which are now neglected ; 
Since Bretagne is reduc'd, and breathless War 5 

Hath sheath'd his sword and wrapp'd his ensigns np. 
The King hath now no more use of my valour. 
And therefore I shall now no more enjoy 
The credit that my service held with him — 
My service that hath driven through all extremes, 10 

Through tempests, droughts, and through the deepest floods. 
Winters of shot, and over rocks so high 
That birds could sparce aspire their ridgy tops. 
The world is quite inverted. Virtue thrown 

At Vice's feet, and sensual Peace confounds 15 

Valour and cowardice, i^ucne and infamy ; 

The rude and terrible age is tum'd again. 

When the thick air hid heaven, and all the stars 

Were drown'd in humour, tough and hard to pierce ; 

When the red sun held not his fixed place, 20 

Kept not his certain course, his rise and set, 

Nor yet distinguished with his definite bounds, 

Nor in his firm oonvessions were discerned 

The fruitful distances of time and place 

In the well-varied seasons of the year ; 25 

When th' incompos'd tncurtions of floods 

Wasted and eat the earth, and all things show'd 

Wild and disorder'd : nought was worse than now. 

We must reform and have a new creation 

Of state and government* and on our Chaos 3^ 

Will I sit brooding up another world. 

I, who through all the dangers that can siege 

The life of man have foic'd my glorious way 

To the repairing of my country's ruins, 

Will ruin it again to re-advance it. 35 

Roman Camillus sav'd the tftate of Rome 

\^^th far less merit than Byron hath France ; 

And how short of this is my recompence. 


The King shall know I will have better price 

Set on my services, in spite of whom 40 

I will proclaim and ring my discontents 

Into the farthest ear of all the world. 

La F, How great a spirit he breathes 1 How leam'd, 
how wise I 
But, worthy Prince, yon must give temperate air 
To yonr unmatched and more than human wind, 45 

Else will our plots be frost-bit in the flower. 

D'Auv, Betwixt ourselves we may give liberal vent 
To all our fiery and displeas'd impressionB ; 
Which nature could not entertain with life 
Without some exhalation ; a wrong'd thought 30 

Will break a rib of steel. 

Byr, My princ^ Mend, 

Enough of these eruptions ; our grave counsellor 
Well knows that great affairs will not be forg'd 
But upon anvils that are lin'd with wocd ; 
We must ascend to our intentions' top 55 

Like clouds, that be not seen till they be up. 

La F. O, you do too much ravish and my soul 
Offer to music in your numerous breath. 
Sententious, and so high it wakens death : 
It is for these parts that the Spanish King 60 

Hath sworn to win them to his side 
At any price or peril, that great Savoy 
Offers his princely daughter and a dowry 
Amounting to five hundred thousand crowns. 
With full transport of all the sovereign rights 65 

Belonging to the State of Burgundy ; 
Which marriage will be made the only cement 
T'effect and streng^en all our secret treaties. 
Instruct me therefore, my assured Prmce, 
Now I am going to resolve the King 70 

Of his suspicions, how I shall behave me. 

Byr. Go, my most trusted friend, with happy feet ; 
Make me a sound man with him ; go to Court 
But with a little train, and be prepar'd 

To hear, at first, terms of contempt and choler, 75 

Which 3rou may easily calm, and turn to grace. 
If 3rou beseech his Highness to believe 
That your whole drift and course for Italy 
(Where he hath heard you were) was only made 


Out of your long wdl-known devotion 80 

To our right holy Lady of Loretto, 

As you have told some of your friends in Court, 

And that in passing Milan and Turin 

They charg'd yon to propound my marriage 

l^th the third daughter of the Duke of Savoy ; 85 

Which you have done, and I rejected it, 

Resolv'd to bu^d upon his royal care 

For my bestowing, which he lately vow'd. 

LaF. O, you direct, as if the God of light 
Sat in each nook of you and pointed out 90 

The path of empire, charming all the dangers, 
On both sides arm'd, with his harmonious finger. 

Byr, Besides, let me entreat you to dismiss 
All that have made the voyage with your lordship. 
But specially the curate, and to lock 95 

Your papers in some place of doubtless safety. 
Or sacrifice them to the God of fire. 
Considering worthily that in your hands 
I put my fortunes, honour, and my life. 

LaF, Therein the bounty that your Grace hath shown me 100 
I prize past life and all things that are mine, 
And will undoubtedly preserve and tender 
The merit of it, as my hope of heaven. 

Byr, I make no question ; farewell, worthy friend. 

Exit [Byron wM the othsrs] 


A Room in the Court] 

Henry, Chancellor, La Fin, D'Escures, Janin ; Henry 
having many papers in his hand 

Hen, Are these proofs of that purely Catholic xeal 
That made him wish no other glorious title 
Than to be call'd the Scourge of Huguenots ? 

Chan. No question, sir, he was of no religion ; 
But, upon false grounds by some courtiers laid, 5 

Hath oft been heard to mock and jest at all. 

Hen, Are not his treasons heinous ? 

All. Most abhorr'd. 

Chan, All is confirmed that jrou have heard before^ 
And amplified with many hoirors more. 


Hen, Good de la Fin, you were our golden plummet lo 
To sound this gulf of all ingratitude ; 
In which you have with excellent desert 
Of loyalty and policy expressed 
Your name in action ; and with such appearance 
Have prov'd the parts of his ingrateful treasons 15 

That I must credit more than I desir'd. 

LaF. I must confess, my lord, my voyages 
Made to the Duke of Savoy and to Milan 
Were with endeavour that the wars retum'd 
Might breed some trouble to your Majesty, 20 

And profit those by whom they were procur'd ; 
But since in their designs your sacred person 
Was not excepted, which I since have seen, 
It so abhorr'd me that I was resolVd 

To give you full intelligence thereof; 25 

And rather choos'd to fail in promises 
Made to the servant than infiinge my fealty 
Sworn to my royal Sovereign and master. 

Hen. I am extremely discontent to see 
This most unnatural conspiracy ; 30 

And would not have the Marshal of Byron 
The first example of my forced justice ; 
Nor that his death should be the worthy cause 
That my calm reign (which hitherto halli held 
A dear and cheerful sky above the heads 35 

Of my dear subjects) should so suddenly 
Be overcast with clouds of fire and thunder ; 
Yet on submission, I vow still his pardon. 

Jan, And still our humble counsels, for his service. 
Would so resolve you, if he will employ 40 

His honoured valour as effectually 
To fortify the state against your foes 
As he hath practised bad intendments with them. 

Hen, That vow shall stand, and we will now address 
Some messengers to call him home to Court, 45 

Without the slend'rest intimation 
Of any ill we know ; we will restrain 
(With all forgiveness, if he will confess) 
His headlong course to ruin ; and his taste 
f^om the sweet poison of his friendlike foes : 50 

Tteason hath blistered heds ; dishonest things 
Have bitter rivers, though delicious springs. 


D'Escures, haste you unto him and inform. 

That having heard by sure intelligence 

Of the great levies made in Italy 55 

Of arms and soldiers, I am resolute, 

Upon my frontiers to maintain an army. 

The charge whereof I will impose on him ; 

And to that end expressly have commanded 

De Vic, our Lord Ambassador in Suisse, 60 

To demand levy of six thousand men, 

Appointing them to march where Duke Byron 

Shall have directions ; wherein I have followed 

The counsel of my Constable, his gossip ; 

Whose lik'd advice I made him know by letters, 65 

Wishing to hear his own from his own mouth. 

And by all means conjure his speediest presence ; 

Do this with utmost haste. 

D'Es. I wiU, my lord. 

Exit D'Escures 

Hen. My good Lord Chancellor, of many pieces, 
More than is here, of his conspiracies 70 

Presented to us by our friend La Fin, 
You only shall reserve these seven-and-twenty. 
Which are not those that [most] conclude against him. 
But mention only him, since I am loth 
To have the rest of the conspirators known. 75 

Chan. My lord, my purpose is to guard all these 
So safely from the sight of any other 
That in my doublet I will have them sew'd, 
Without discovering them to mine own eyes 
Till need or opportunity requires. So 

Hen. You shall do well, my lord, they are of weight ; 
But I am doubtful that his conscience 
yrm make him so suspicious of the worst 
That he will hardly be induc'd to come. 

Jan, I much should doubt that too, but that I hope ^ 85 
The strength of hiis conspiracy as yet 
Is not so ready that he dare presume 
By his refusal to make known so much 
Of his disloyalty. 

Hen. I yet conceive 

His practices are tum'd to no bad end ; go 

And, good La Fin, I pray you write to him 
To hasten his repair, and make him sure 


That you have satisfied me to the full 

For all his actions, and have utter'd nought 

But what might serve to banish bad impressions. 95 

LaF, I will not fail, my lord. 

Hen, Convey your letters 

By some choice friend of his, or by his brother; 
And for a third excitement to his presence, 
Janin, yourself shall go, and with the power 
That both the rest employ to make him come, 100 

Use you the strength of your persuasions. 

Jan, I will, my lord, and hope I shall present him. 

Emt Janin 


A Room in the Courf] 

Enter Epemon, Soissons, Vitry, Pr&Un, etc. [to the King] 

Ep. Will't please your Majesty to take your place ? 
The Masque is coming. .] 

Hen, Room, my lords; stand close. 

Music and a song above, and Cupid enters with a table written 
hung about his nech ; after him two torch-bearers ; after 
them Marie, D'Entragues, and four ladies more with their 
torch-bearers, etc, 
Cupid speahs. 

Cup. My lord, these nymphs, part of the scattered train 
Of friendless Virtue (living in the woods 

Of shady Arden, and of late not hearing 5 

The dr^uiful sounds of war, but that sweet Peace, 
Was by your valour lifted from her grave, 
Set on your royal right hand, and all Virtues 
Summon'd with honour and with rich rewards 
To be her handmaids) : these, I say, the Virtues, 10 

Have put their heads out of their caves and coverts. 
To be your true attendants in your Court : 
In which desire I must relate a tale 
Of kind and worthy emulation 

'Twixt these two Virtues, leaders of the train, 15 

This on the right hand is Sophrosjrne, 
Or Chastity, this other Dapsile, 


Or Liberality ; their emulation 

Begat a jar, which thus was recondl'd. 

I (having left my Goddess mother's lap, 20 

To hawk and shoot at birds in Arden groves) 

Beheld this princely n3rmph with much affection, 

Left killing birds, and tum'd into a bird, 

Like which I flew betwixt her ivory breasts 

As if I had been driven by some hawk 25 

To sue to her for safety of my life ; 

She smil'd at first, and sweetly shadow'd me 

With soft protection of her silver hand ; 

Sometimes she tied my legs in her rich hair. 

And made me (past my nature, liberty) 30 

Proud of my fetters. As I pertly sat. 

On the white pillows of her naked breasts, 

I sung for joy ; she answer'd note for note, 

Relish for relish, with such ease and art 

In her divine division, that my tunes 35 

Show'd like the God of shepherds' to the Sun's, 

Compared with hers ; asham'd of which disgrace, 

I took my true shape, bow, and all my shafts. 

And lighted all my torches at her eyes ; 

Which set about her in a golden ring, 40 

I foUow'd birds again from tree to tree, 

Kill'd and presented, and she kindly took. 

But when die handled my triumphant bow, 

And saw the beauty of my golden shafts. 

She begg'd them of me ; I, poor boy, replied 45 

I had no other riches, yet was pleas'd 

To hazard all and stake them gainst a kiss 

At an old game I us'd, call'd penny-prick. 

She, privy to her own skill in the play, 

Answer'd my challenge ; so I lost my arms, 50 

And now my shafts are headed with her looks; 

One of which shafts she put into my bow. 

And shot at this fair nymph, with whom before, 

I told .your Majesty she had some jar. 

The nymph did instantly repent all parts 55 

She play'd in urging that effeminate war, 

Lov'd and submitted ; which submission 

This took so well that now they both are one ; 

And as for your dear love their discords grew. 

So for your love they did their loves renew* 60 


And now to prove them capable of your Court 

In skill of such conceits and qualities 

As here are practis'd, they will first submit 

Their grace in dancing to your Highness' doom. 

And p[r]ay the press to give their measures room. 65 

Music, dance, etc,, which done Cupid speahs 

If this suffice for one Court compliment 

To make them gracious and entertain'd. 

Behold another parcel of their courtship. 

Which is a rare dexterity in riddles. 

Shown in one instance, which is here inscribed. 70 

Here is a riddle, which if any knight 

At first sight can resolve, he shall enjoy 

This jewel here annex'd ; which, though it show 

To vulgar eyes no richer than a pebble, 

And that no lapidary nor great man 75 

Will give a sou for it, 'tis worth a kingdom ; 

For 'tis an artificial stone compos'd 

By their great mistress. Virtue, and will make 

Him that shall wear it live with any little 

Suffic'd and more content than any king. 80 

If he that undertakes cannot resolve it, 

And that these nymphs can have no harbour here 

(It being consider'd that so many Virtues 

Can never live in Court), he shall resolve 

To leave the Court and live with them in Arden. 85 

Ep, Pronounce the riddle; I will undertake it. 

Cup. 'Tis this, sir. 
Whafs that a fair lady most of all likes. 
Yet ever makes show she least of all seeks : 
That's ever embraced and affected by her, 90 

Yet never is seen to please or come nigh her : 
Most served in her night-weeds, does her good in a comer : 
But a poor man's thing, yet doth richly adorn her : 
Most cheap and most dear, above all worldly pelf. 
That is hard to get in, but comes out of itself? 

Ep, Let me peruse it, Cupid. 95 

Cup, Here it is. 

Ep, Your riddle is good fame. 

Cup, Good fame ? How make you that good ? 

Ep, Good fame is that a good lady most likes, I am sure. 


Cup. That's graiit6d. 100 

Ep. ' Yet ever makes show she least of all seeks ' : for she 
likes it only for virtue, which is not glorious. 

Hen. That h<dds well. 

Ep. 'Tis ' ever embraced and afiected by her '. for she 
must persevere in virtue or fame vanishes ; ' yet never is seen 105 
to please or come nigh her ', for fame is invisible. 

Cup. Exceeding right 1 

Ep. ' Most served in her night-weeds ', for ladies that 
most wear their night-weeds come least abroad, and they that 
come least abroad serve fame most, according to this : Non no 
forma, sed fama, in publicum exire debet. 

Hen. 'Tis very substantial. 

Ep. ' Does her good in a comer ' — ^that is, in her most 
retreat from the world comforts her ; ' but a poor man's 
thing ' : for every poor man may purchase it, ' yet doth richly 1 15 
adorn ' a lady. 

Cup. That all must grant. 

Ep. ' Most cheap,' for it costs nothing ; 'and most dear', 
for gold cannot buy it ; ' above aU worldly pelf ', for that's 
transitory, and fame eternal. 'It is hard to get in'; that 120 
is, hard to get; 'but comes out of itself', for when it is 
virtuously deserved with the most inward retreat from 
the world, it comes out in spite of it. And so, Cupid, your 
jewel is mine. 

Cup. It is : and be the virtue of it yours. 
We'll now turn to our dance, and then attend 125 

Your Highness' will, as touching our resort. 
If Virtue may be entertain'd in Court. 

Hen. This show hath pleased me well for that it figures 
The reconcilement of my Queen and mistress : 
Come, let us in and thank them, anQ prepare 130 

To entertain our trusty friend Byron. Exeunt 


[At Dijon] 

Enter Byron, D'Auvergne 

Byr. Dear friend, we must not be more true to kings 
Than kings are to their subjects ; there are schools 
<Now broken ope in aU parts of the world* 


Fixst founded in ingenious Italy, 

Where some conclusions of estate are held 5 

That for a day preserve a prince, and ever 

Destroy him after ; from thence men are taught 

To glide into degrees of height by craft, 

And then lock in themselves by villany : 

But God (who knows kings are not made by art, 10 

But ri^t of Nature, nor by treachery propp'd. 

But simple virtue) once let fall from heaven 

A branch of that green tree, whose root is yet 

Fast fix'd above the stars ; which sacred branch 

We well may liken to that laurel spray 15 

That from the heavenly eagle's golden seres 

Fell in the lap of great Augustus' wife ; 

Which spray, once set, grew up into a tree 

Whereof were garlands made, and emperors 

Had their estates and foreheads crown'd with them ; 20 

And as the arms of that tree did decay 

The race of great Augustus wore away ; 

Nero being last of that imperial line. 

The tree and Emperor together died. 

Religion is a branch, first set and blest 25 

By Heaven's high finger in the hearts of kings. 

Which whilom grew into a goodly tree ; 

Bright angels sat and sung upon the twigs. 

And royal branches for the heads of kings 

Were twisted of them ; but since squint-eyed Envy 30 

And pale Suspicion dash'd the heads of kingdoms 

One gainst another, two abhorred twins. 

With two foul tails, stem War and Liberty, 

Enter'd the world. The tree that grew from heaven 

Is overrun with moss ; the cheerful music 35 

That heretofore hath sounded out of it 

Begins to cease; and as she casts her leaves,. 

By small degrees the kingdoms of the earth 

Decline and wither ; and look, whensoever 

That the pure sap in her is dried-up quite, 40 

The lamp of all authority goes out, 

And all the blaze of princes is extinct. 

Thus, as the poet sends a messenger 

Out to the stage to show the sum of all 

That follows after, so are kings' revolts 45 

And playing both ways ¥rith religion 


Fore-ninneis of afflictioiis imminent. 

Which (like a Chorus) subjects must lament. 

D*Auu, My lord, I stand not on these deep discourses 
To settle my course to your fortunes ; mine 50 

Are freely and inseparably link'd. 
And to your love, my life. 

Byr, Thanks, princely friend ; 

And whatsoever good shall come of me, 
Pursu'd by all the Catholic Princes' aids 
With whom I join, and whose whole states propos'd 55 

To win my valour, promise me a throne. 
All shall be, equal with myself, thine own. 

[Enter La Brunei] 

La Brun. My lord, here is D'Escures, sent from the King. 
Desires access to you. 
Byr, Attend him in. 

Enter D'Escures 

D*Es, Health to my lord the Duke I 

Byr. Welcome, D'Escures 1 60 

In what health rests our royal Sovereign ? 

D*Es. In good health of his body, but his mind 
Is something troubled with the gathering storms 
Of foreign powers, that, as he is inform'd, 
Address themselves into his frontier towns; 65 

And therefore his intent is to maintain 
The body of an army on those parts. 
And yield their worUiy conduct to your valour. 

Byr. From whence hears he that any storms are rising ? 

D'Es. From Italy ; and his intelligence 70 

No doubt is certain, that in all those parts 
Levies are hotly made ; for which respect, 
He sent to his ambassador, de Vic, 
To make demand in Switzerland for the raising 
With utmost diligence of six thousand men, 75 

An which shall be conmianded to attend 
On your direction, as tiie Constable, 
Your honour'd gossip, gave him in advice. 
And he sent you by writing; of which letters 
He would have answer and advice from you 80 

By your most speedy presence. 
Byr. This is strange, 

C.D.W. Q 


That when the enemy is t'attempt his frontiers 

He calls me from the frontiers ; does he think 

It is an action worthy of my valour 

To turn my back to an approaching foe ? 85 

D*Es. The foe is not so near but you may come, 
And take more strict directions from his Highness 
Than he thinks fit his letters should contain, 
Without the least attainture of your valour. 
And therefore, good my lord, forbear excuse, 90 

And bear yourself on his direction, 
Who, well you know, hath never made design 
For your most worthy service where he saw 
That an3rthing but honour could succeed. 

Byr, I will not come, I swear. 

D'Es. I know your Grace 95 

Will send no such unsavoury reply. 

Byr. Tell him that I beseech his Majesty 
To pardon my repair till th' end be known 
Of all these levies now in Italy. 

D*Es, My lord, I know that tale will never please him, 100 
And wish you, as you love his love and pleasure, 
To satisfy his summons speedily. 
And speedily I know he will return you. 

Byr. By heaven, it is not fit, if aJl my service 
Makes me know anything : beseech him, therefore, 105 

To trust my judgment in these doubtful charges. 
Since in assur'd assaults it hath not fail'd him. 

D'Es. I would your lordship now would trust his judg- 

Byr. God's precious, y'are importunate past measure, 
And, I know, further than your charge extends. no 

I'll satisfy his Highness, let that serve ; 
For by lliis flesh and blood, you shall not bear 
Any reply to him but this from me. 

D*Es. 'Tis nought to me, my lord ; I wish your good. 
And for that cause have been importunate. 115 

Exit D'Escures 

La Brun. By no means go, my lord ; but, with distrust 
Of all that hath been said or can be sent. 
Collect your friends, and stand upon your guard ; 
The King's fair letters and his messages 

Are only golden pills, and comprehend 120 

Horrible purgatives. 


Byr. I will not go. 

For now I see th' instructions lately sent me 
That something is discover'd are too true, 
And my head rules none of those neighbour nobles 
That every pursuivant brings beneath the axe : 125 

If they bring me out, they shall see I'll hatch 
Like to the blackthorn, that puts forth ^his leaf. 
Not with the golden fawnings of the sun, 
But sharpest showers of hail, and blackest frosts : 
Blows, batteries, breaches, showers of steel and blood, 130 
Must be his downright messengers for me. 
And not the mizzling breath of pc^cy ; 
He, he himself, made passage to his crown 
Through no more armies, battles, massacres 
Than I will ask him to arrive at me. 135 

He takes on him my executions ; 
And on the demolitions, that this arm 
Hath shaken out of forts and citadels. 
Hath he advanc'd the trophies of his valour ; 
Where I, in those assumptions, may scorn 140 

And speak contemptuously of ail the world. 
For any equal yet I ever foimd ; 
And in my rising, not the Sirian star 
That in the Lion's mo[n]th undaunted shines.' 
And makes his brave ascension with the sun, 145 

Was of th' Egyptians with more zeal beheld, " 
And made a rule to know the circuit 
And compass of the year, than I was held 
When I appear'd from battle, the whole sphere 
And full sustainer of the state we bear; 150 

I have Alddefr-like gone under th' earth, 
And on these shoulders borne the weight of France : 
And for the fortunes of the thankless King, 
My father, all know, set him in his throne. 
And, if he urg^ ine, I may pluck him 'out. - 155 

Enter Messenger 

Mes. Here is the President Janin, my lord, 
Sent from the King, and urgeth qrlick access. 

Byr, Another puzBuivatit, and one so qvick ? 
He takes next course with me to make him stay: 
Bat let him in, let's hoes what he importones. 160 


lExit La Bnmel], ^ntsr Janin 

Jan. Honour and loyal hopes to Duke Bjrron I 

Byr. No other touch me : say how fares the King ? 

Jan. Fairly, my lord ; the cloud is yet far off 
That aims at his obscuring, and his will 

Would gladly give the motion to your powers 165 

That should disperse it; but the means himself 
Would personally relate in your direction. 

Byr. Still on that haunt ? 

Jan, Upon my life, my lord, 

He much desires to see you ; and your sight 
Is now grown necessary to suppress 17P 

(As with the glorious splendour of the sun) 
The rude winds that report breathes in his ears. 
Endeavouring to blast your loyalty. 

Byr. Sir, if my loyalty stick in him no faster 
But that the light breath of report may loose it, 175 

So I rest still unmov'd, let him be shaken. 

Jan. But these aloof abodes, my lord, bewray. 
That there is rather firmness in 3rour breath 
Than in your heart. Truth is not made of glass, 
That with a small touch it should fear to break, ^80 

And therefore should not shun it ; believe me 
His arm is long, and strong ; and it can fetch 
Any within his will, that will not come : 
Not he that surfeits in his mines of gold. 
And for the pride thereof compares with God, 185 

Calling (with almost nothing different) 
His powers invincible, for omnipotent. 
Can back your boldest fort gainst his assaults: 
It is his pride, and vain ambition. 

That hath but two stairs in his high design^-*- 190 

The lowest, envy, and the highest, blood—- 
That doth abuse you, and gives minds too high 
Rather a will by giddiness to fall 
Than to descend by judgment. 

Byr. 1 rdy 

On no man's back nor belly ; but the King 195 

Must think that merit, by ingratitude crad^'d^ 
Requires a firmer cementing than words. 
•And he shall find it. a oauch harder work. 
To solder broken hearts than shiver'd glass. 


Jan. lAy lord, 'tis better hold a Sovereign's love 200 

By bearing injuries, than by laying oat 
Stir his displeasure; princes' discontents. 
Being once incens'd, are like the flames of Etna, 
Not to be quench'd, nor lessen'd; and, be sure, 
A subject's confidence in any merit 205 

Against his Sovereign, that makes him presume 
To fly too high, approves him like a cloud 
That makes a show as it did hawk at kingdoms, 
And could command all rais'd beneath his vapour : 
When suddenly, the fowl that hawk'd so fiur, 210 

Stoops in a puddle, or consumes in air. 

Byr. I fly with no such aim, nor am oppos'd 
Against my Sovereign ; but the worthy height 
I have wrought by my service I will hold. 
Which, if I come away, I cannot do ; 215 

For if the enemy should invade the frontier. 
Whose charge to guard is mine, with any spoil. 
Although the King in placing of another 
Might well excuse me, yet all foreign kings. 
That can take note of no such secret quittance, 220 

Will lay the weakness here, upon my wants ; 
And therefore my abode is resolute, 

Jan, I sorrow for your resolution. 
And fear your dissolution will succeed. 

Byr. I must endure it. 

Jan. Fare you well, my lord I 225 

Exit Janin 

Enter La Brunei 

Byr. FareweU to yon I 
Captain, what other news ? 

La Brun. La Fin salutes you. [Giving letters] 

Byr. Welcome, good friend ; I hope your vrish'd arrival 
Will give some certain end to our designs. 

La Brun. I know not that, my lord ; reports are rais'd 230 
So doubtful and so different, that the truth 
Of any one can hardly be assur'd. 

Byr. Good news, D'Auvergne ; our trusty friend La Fki 
Halii clear'd all scruple with his Majesty, 
And utter'd nothing but what serv'd to clear 235 

All bad suggestions. 

La Brun. So he says, my lord; 


But others say La Pin's assurances 

Are mere deceits, and wish you to believe 

That» when the Vidame, nephew to La Fin, 

Met you at Autun to assure your doubts 240 

His unde had said nothing to the King 

That might ofEend you, all the journey's charge 

The King defray'd ; besides, your tmest friends 

Will'd me to make you certain that your place 

Of government is otherwise disposed ; 245 

And all advise you, for your latest hope. 

To make retreat into the Franche-Comt6. 

Byr. I thank them all, but they touch not the depth 
Of the affairs betwixt La Fin and me. 

Who is retum'd contented to his house, 250 

Quite freed of all displeasure or distrust ; 
And therefore, worthy friends, we'll now to Court. 

D'Auv. My lord, I like your other friends' advices 
Much better than La Fin's ; and on my life 
You cannot come to Court with any safety. 255 

Byr. Who shall infringe it ? I know all the Court 
Have better apprehension of my valour 
Than that they dare lay violent hands on me ; 
If I have only means to draw this sword, 
I shall have power enough to set me free 260 

From seizure by my proudest enemy. 

Exit [Byron wM ik^ others] 

A Room in the Courfl 

Enter Epemon, Vitry, Pr&lin 

Ep. He will not come, I dare engage my hand. 

Vit. He will be fetch'd then, I'U engage my head. 

Prd. Come, or be fetch'd, he quite hath lost his honoar 
In giving these suspicions of revolt 

From his allegiance ; that which he hath won 5 

With sundry wounds, and peril of his life, 
With wonder of his wisdom and his valour. 
He loseth with a most enchanted glory. 
And admiration of his pride and folly. 

Vit. Why, did you never see a fortunate man 10 


Suddenly rais'd to heaps of wealth and honour. 

Nor any rarely great in gifts of nature 

(As valour, wit, and smooth use of the tongue 

Set strangely to the pitch of popular likings), 

But with as sudden falls the rich and honoured 15 

Were overwhelm'd by poverty and shame. 

Or had no use of both above the wretched ? 

Ep, Men ne'er are satisfied with that they have ; 
But as a man match'd with a lovely wife 
When his most heavenly theory of her beauties 20 

Is dull'd and quite exhausted with his practice. 
He brings her forth to feasts, where he, alas I 
Falls to his viands ¥ no thought like others 
That think him blest in her; and they, poor men. 
Court, and make faces, offer service, sweat 25 

With their desires' contention, break their brains 
For jests and tales, sit mute and lose their looks 
(Far out of wit, and out of countenance) : 
So all men else do, what they have, transplant. 
And place their wealth in thirst of what they want. 30 

Enter Henry, Chancellor, the Vidame, D'Escures, Janin 

Hen, He will not come : I must both grieve and wonder, 
That all my care to win my subjects' love 
And in one cup of friendship to commix 
Our lives and fortunes, should leave out so many 
As give a man (contemptuous of my love 35 

And of his own good in the kingdom's peace) 
Hope, in a continuance so ungrateful. 
To bear out his designs in spite of me. 
How should I better please all than I do ? 
When they suppos'd I would have given some 40 

Insolent garrisons, others citadels. 
And to all sorts increase of miseries, 
Province by province I did visit all 
Whom those injurious rumours had dis[m]ay'd. 
And shoVd them how I never sought to build 45 

More forts for me than- were within their hearts. 
Nor use more stem constraints than their good wills 
To succour the necessities of my crown ; 
That I desir'd to add to their contents 
By all occasions rather than subtract; 50 


Nor wish'd I that my treasuzy should flow 

With gold that swum in, in my subjects' tears ; 

And then I found no man that did not bless 

My few years' reign, and their triumphant peace; 

And do they now so soon complain of ease ? 55 

He will not come 1 

Enter Byron, D'Auvergne, brother, with others 

Ep. O madness, he is come i 

Chan. The Duke is come, my lord. 

Hen. Oh sir, y'are wdcome. 

And fitly, to conduct me to my house. 

Byr. I must beseech your Majesty's excuse, 
That, jealous of mine honour, I have us'd 60 

Some of mine own commandment in my stay, 
And came not with your Highness' soonest summons. 

Hen. The faithful servant, right in Holy Writ, 
That said he would not come and yet he came : 
But come you hither, I must tell you now 65 

Not the contempt you stood to in your stay. 
But the bad ground that bore up your contempt, 
Makes you arrive at no port but repentance. 
Despair, and ruin. 

Byr. Be what port it will, 

At which your will will make me be arrived, 70 

I am not come to justify myself. 
To ask you pardon, nor accuse my friends. 

Hen. If you conceal my enemies, you are one ; 
And then my pardon shall be worth your asking, 
Or else your head be worth my cutting off. 75 

Byr. Being friend and worthy fautor of myself, 
I am no foe of yours, nor no impairer. 
Since he can no way worthily maintain 
His prince's honour that neglects his own ; 
And if your will have been, to my true reason, 80 

(Maintaining stOl the truth of loyalty) 
A check to my free nature and mine honour. 
And that on your free justice I presum'd 
To cross your will a little, I conceive 
You will not think this forfeit worth my head. 85 

Hen. Have you maintain'd your trutibi of loyalty. 
When, since I pardon'd foul intentions 


(Resolving to forget eternally 

What they appeared in, and had welcom'd you 

As the kind father doth his riotous son), 90 

I can approve facts fouler than th' intents 

Of deep disloyalty and highest treason ? 

Byr. May this right hand be thunder to my breast, 
If I stand guilty of the slend'rest fact 

Wherein the least of those two can be proved, 95 

For could my tender conscience but have touch'd 
At any such unnatural relapse, 
I would not with this confidence have run 
Thus headlong in the furnace of a wrath 
Blown and thrice kindled, having way enough 100 

In my election both to shun and slight it. 

Hen. Y'are grossly and vaingloriously abus'd ; 
There is no way in Savoy nor in Spain 
To give a fool that hope of your escape; 
And had you not, even when you did, arrived, 105 

With horror to the proudest hope you had 
I would have fetch'd you. 

Byr. You must then have us'd 

A power beyond my knowledge, and a will 
Beyond your justice. For a little stay 

More than I us'd would hardly have been worthy 1x0 

Of such an open expedition ; 
In which to all the censures of the world 
My faith and innocence had been foully foil'd ; 
Which, I protest by heaven's bright witnesses 
That shine ^, far, from mixture with our fears, 1x5 

Retain as perfect roundness as their spheres. 

Hen. 'Tis well, my lord ; I thought I could have frighted 
Your firmest confidence : some other time 
We will, as now in private, sift your actions, 
And pour more than you think into the sieve, X20 

Always reserving clemency and pardon 
Upon confession, be you ne'er so foul. 
Come, let's clear up our brows : shall we to tennis ? 

Byr. Ay, my lord, if I may make the match. 
The Duke Epemon and myself will play 125 

With you and Count Soissons. 

Ep. I know, my lord. 

You play well, but you make your matches ill. 

Hen. Come, 'tis a match Exit 



Byr. [To Epemon] How like you my axrivai ? 

Ep. I'll tell 3rou as your friend in your ear. 
You have given more preferment to your courage 130 

Than to the provident counsels of your friends. 

D'Auv, I told him so, my lord, and much was griev'd 
To see his bold approach, so full of will. 

Byr, Well, I must bear it now, though but with th' head. 
The shoulders bearing nothing. 

Ep. By Saint John, 135 

'Tis a good headless resolution. Exeunt 

[A Room in the Courf] 

Byron, D'Auvergne 

Byr. O the most base fruits of a settled peace i 
In men I mean, worse than their dirty fields. 
Which they manure much better than themselves : 
For them they plant and sow, and ere they grow 
Weedy and chok'd with thorns, they grub and proin, 5 

And make them better tiian when cruel war 
Frighted from thence the sweaty labourer ; 
But men themselves, instead of bearing fruits. 
Grow rude and foggy, overgrown ¥rith weeds. 
Their spirits and freedoms smother'd in their ease ; 10 

And as their tyrants and their ministers 
Grow wild in prosecution of their lusts. 
So they grow prostitute, and he, like whores, 
Down, and take up, to their abhorr'd dishonours ; 
The friendless may be injur'd and oppress'd, 15 

The guiltless led to slaughter, the deserver 
Given to the beggar, right be wholly wrong'd. 
And wrong be only honour'd, till the strings 
Of every man's heart crack; and who will stir 
To tell authority that it doih. err ? 20 

All men cling to it, though they see their bloods 
In their most dear associates and allies, 
Pour'd into kennels by it, and who dares 
But look well in the breast whom that impairs ? 
How all the Court now looks askew on me I 25 

Go by without saluting, shun my sight. 


Which, like a March sun. agues breeds in them. 
From whence of late 'twas health to have a beam. 

D'Auv. Now none will speak to us ; we thrust ourselves 
Into men's companies, and offer speech 30 

As if not made for their diverted ears. 
Their backs tum'd to us, and their words to others. 
And we must, like obsequious parasites. 
Follow their faces, wind about their persons - 
For looks and answers, or be cast behind, 35 

No more view'd than the wallet of the^r faults. 

Enter Soissons 

Byr. Yet here's one views me, and I think will speak. 

Sois. My lord, if you respect your name and race. 
The preservation of your former honours. 
Merits, and virtues, humbly cast them all 40 

At the King's mercy ; for beyond all doubt 
Your acts have thither driven them ; he hath proofs 
So pregnant and so horrid, that to hear them 
Would make your valour in your very looks 
Give up your forces, nuserably guilty ; 45 

But he is most loatii (for his ancient love 
To your rare virtues, and in their impair. 
The full discouragement of all that live 
To trust or favour any gifts in nature) 

T'expose them to the light, when darkness may 50 

Cover her own brood, and keep still in day 
Nothing of you but that may brook her brightness : 
You know what horrors these high strokes do bring 
Rais'd in the arm of an incensed king. 

Byr, My lord, be sure the King cannot complain 55 

Of anything in me but my true service. 
Which, in so many dangers of my death. 
May so approve my spotless loyalty 
That those quite opposite horrors you assure 
Must look out of his own ingratitude, 60 

Or the malignant envies of my foes, 
Who pour me out in such a Stygian flood. 
To drown me in myself, since tiieir deserts 
Are fax from such a deluge, and in me 
Hid like so many rivers in the sea. 65 

Sots: You thijnk I come to sound you : fare you well. 



Enter Chancellor, Epemon, Janin, the Vidame, Vitry, Prdiin, 

whispering by couples, etc, 

D'Auv. See, see, not one of them will cast a glance 
At onr eclipsed faces. 

Byr, They keep all 

To cast in admiration on the King ; 
For from his face are all their faces moulded. 70 

D'Auv, But when a change comes we s^iall see them all 
Chang'd into water, that will instantly 
Give look for look, as if it watch'd to greet us ; 
Or else for one they'll give us twenty faces. 
Like to the little specks on sides of glasses. 75 

Byr. Is't not an easy loss to lose their looks 
Whose hearts so soon are melted ? 

D'Auv. But methinks. 

Being courtiers, they should cast best looks on men 
When they thought worst of them. 

Byr. O no, my lord! 

They ne'er dissemble but for some advantage ; 80 

They sell their looks and shadows, which they rate 
After their markets, kept beneath the State ; 
Lord, what foul weather their aspects do threaten I 
See in how grave a brake he sets his vizard ; 
Passion of nothing, see, an excellent gesture 1 85 

Now courtship goes a-ditching in their foreheads. 
And we are fall'n into those dismal ditches. 
Why even thus dreadfully would they be rapt. 
If the King's butter'd eggs were only spilt. 

Enter Henry 

Hen. Lord Chancellor! 

Chan. Ay, my lord ! 

Hen. And Lord Vidame! 90 

Exit [Henry with the Chancellor and the Vidame] 
Byr. And not Byron ? Here's a prodigious change 1 
D'Auv, He cast no beam on you. 
Byr. Why, now you see 

From whence their coimtenances were copied. 

Efvter the Captain of Byron's guard, with a letter 

D'Auv. See, here comes some news, I believe, my lord. 
Byr. What says the honest Captain of my guard ? 95 


Cap, I bring a letter from a Mend of youiB. 

Byr. 'Tis welcome, then. 

D'Auv, Have we yet any friends ? 

Cap. More than ye would, I think ; I never saw 
Men in their right minds so tmrighteous 
In their own causes. 

Byr. [showing the letUr] See what thou hast brought. 100 
He wills us to retire ourselves my lord. 
And makes as if it were almost too late. 
What says my captain ? Shall we go, or no ? 

Cap, I would your dagger's point had kiss'd my heart. 
When you resolv'd to come. 

Byr, I pray thee, why ? 105 

Cap, Yet doth that senseless apoplexy dull yoo ? 
The devil or your wicked angel blinds you, 
Bereaving all your reason of a man. 
And leaves you but the spirit of a horse 
In your brute nostrils, only power to dare. izo 

Byr, Why, dost thou thiuk my coming here hath brought 
To such an unrecoverable danger ? 

Cap, Judge by the strange ostents that have succeeded 
Since your arrival ; the kind fowl, the wild duck. 
That came into your cabinet so beyond 115 

The sight of aU your servants, or yourself. 
That flew about, and on your shoulder sat, 
And which y6u had so fed and so attended 
For that dumb love she showed you, just as soon 
As you were parted, on the sudden died. 120 

And to make this no less than an ostent, 
Another, that hath fortun'd since, ccmfirms it : 
Your goodly horse, Pastrana, which the Archduke 
Gave you at Brussels, in the very hour 

You left your strength, fell mad, and kill'd himself ; 125 

The like chanc'd to the horse the Great Duke sent you ; 
And, with both these, the horse the Duke of Lorraine 
Sent you at Vimy, made a third presage 
Of some inevitable fate that touch'd you. 
Who, like the other, pin'd away and died. 130 

Byr, All these together are indeed ostentful* 
Which, by another like, I can confirm : 
The matchless Earl of Essex, whom some make 
(la their most sure divinings of my death) 


A parallel with me in life and fortune, 135 

Had one horse, likewise, that the very hour 

He sufEer'd death (being well the night before), 

Died in his pasture. Noble, happy beasts. 

That die, not having to their wills to live ; 

They use no deprecations nor complaints, 140 

Nor suit for mercy ; amongst them, the lion 

Serves not the lion, nor the horse the horse. 

As man serves man : when men show most their spirits 

In valour, and their utmost dares to do 

They are compared to lions, wolves, and boars ; 145 

But, by conversion, none will say a lion 

Fights as he had the spirit of a man. 

Let me then in my danger now give cause 

For all men to begin that simile. 

For all my huge engagement I provide me 150 

This short sword only, which, if I have time 

To show my apprehender, he shall use 

Power of ten lions if I get not loose. [Exeunt] 


Anothsr Room in the Court] 

Enter Henry, Chancellor, the Vidame, Janin, Vitry, Pr41in 

Hen. What shall we do with this unthankful man ? 
Would he of one thing but reveal the truth, 
Which I have proof of, underneath his hand. 
He should not taste my justice. I would give 
Two hundred thousand crowns that he would 3deld 5 

But such means for my pardon as he should ; 
I never lov'd man like him ; would have trusted 
My son in his protection, and my realm: 
He hath deserv'd my love with worthy service. 
Yet can he not deny but I have thrice xo 

Sav'd him from death ; I drew him ofE the foe . 
At Fountaine Fran9oi8e, where he was engaged. 
So wounded, and so much amas'd with blows. 
That, as I playM the soldier in his rescue, 
I was enforc'd to play the Marshal r ^5 

To order the retkieat, because he said 
He was not fit to do it, nor to serve me. « - > • 


Chan. Your Majesty hath us'd your utmost means 
Both by your own perraasions and his friends 
To bring him to submission, and confess 20 

With some sign of repentance his foul fault ; 
Yet still he stands prefract and insolent. 
You have, in love and care of his recovery. 
Been half in labour to produce a course 

And resolution that were fit for him ; 25 

And since so amply it concerns your crown, 
You must by law cut off what by your grace 
You cannot bring into the state of safety. 

Jan. Begin at th' end, my lord, and execute, 
like Alexander with Parmenio. 30 

Princes, you Imow, are masters of their laws. 
And may resolve them to what forms they please. 
So all conclude in justice ; in whose stroke 
There is one sort of manage for the great. 
Another for inferior : the great mother 35 

Of all productions, grave Necessity, 
Commands the variation ; and the profit. 
So certainly foreseen, commends the example. 

H&n. I like not executions so informal, 
For which my predecessors have been blam'd : 40 

My subjects and the world shall know my power 
And my authority by law's usual course 
Dares punish, not the devilish heads of treason. 
But their confederates, be they ne'er so dreadful. 
The decent ceremonies of my laws 45 

And their solemnities shall be observed 
With all their sternness and severity. 

Vii. Where will your Highness have him apprehended ? 

Hen. Not in the Castle, as some have advis'd. 
But in his chamber. 

Prd. Rather in your own, 50 

Or coming out of it ; for 'tis assur'd 
That any other place of apprdiension 
Will make the hard performance end in blood. 

Vit To shun this likelihood, my lord, 'tis best 
To make the apprehension near your chamber ; 55 

For aU respect and reverence given the place. 
More than is needful to chastise the person 
And save the opening of too many veins. 
Is vain and dangerous. 


H0H. Gather you your guard* 

And I will find fit time to give the word 60 

When you shall seize on him and on D'Auvergne. 

Vit, We will be ready to the death, my lord. 

Exeunt [a// bui Henry] 

Hen, O Thou that govem'st the keen swords of kings. 
Direct my arm in this important stroke. 

Or hold it being advanc'd ; the weight of blood, 65 

Even in the basest subject, doth exact 
Deep consultation in the highest king; 
For in one subject death's unjust afbrights. 
Passions, and pains, though he be ne'er so poor. 
Ask more remorse than the voluptuous spleens 70 

Of all kings in the world deserve respect : 
He should be bom grey-headed that will bear 
The sword of empire ; judgment of the life. 
Free state, and reputation of a man. 

If it be just and worthy, dwells so daxk 75 

That it denies access to sun and moon ; 
The soul's eye sharpened with that sacred light 
Of whom the sun itself is but a beam. 
Must only give that judgment. O how much 
Err those kings, then, that play with life and death, 80 

And nothing put into their serious states 
But humour and their lusts, for which alone 
Men long for kingdoms ; whose huge counterpoise 
In cares and dangers could a fool comprise. 
He would not be a king, but would be wise. 85 

Enter Byron talking with the Queen, Epemon, D'Entragues, 
D'Auvergne, with another lady, [Montigny and\ others 

Here comes the man, with whose ambitious head 

(Cast in the way of treason) we must stay 

His full chase of our ruin and our realm ; 

This hour shall take upon her shady wings 

His latest liberty and life to hell. 90 

D'Auv, [aside to Byron] We are undone I 

[Exit D'Auvergne] 

Queen. What's that ? 

Byr. I heard him not. 

Hen, Madam, y'are honour'd much that Duke Bynni 
Is so observant : some to cards with him ; 


Yon four, as now you come, sit to primero ; 

And I will fight a battle at the chess. 95 

Byr, A good safe fight, believe me ; other war 
Thirsts blood and wounds ; and, his thirst quench'd, is thank- 
[Byron, The Queen, Epemon and Montigny play tU cantds] 

Ep, Lift, and then cut. 

Byr. 'Tis right the end of lifting ; 

When men are lifted to their highest pitch. 
They cut off those that lifted them so high. 100 

Qfuen, Apply you all these sports so seriously ? 

Byr, They first were from our serious acts devis'd. 
The best of which are to the best but sports 
(I mean by best the greatest), for their ends. 
In men that serve them best, are their own pleasures. 105 

Queen, So in those best men's services their ends 
Are their own pleasures. Passl 

Byr, I vie't. 

Hen, [aside], I see't. 

And wonder at his frontless impudence. 

Exit Henry. 

Chan, [To the Queen] How speeds your Majesty ? 

Queen, Well ; the Duke instructs me 

With such grave lessons of mortality no 

Forc'd out of our light sport that, if I lose, 
I cannot but speed weU. 

Byr, Some idle talk. 

For courtship' sake, you know, does not amiss. 

Chan, Would we might hear some of it, 

Byr, That you shall ; 

I cast away a card now, makes me think 115 

Of the deceased worthy King of Spain. 

Chan, What card was that ? 

Byr, The King of Hearts, my lord ; 

Whose name yields well the memory of that king. 
Who was indeed the worthy king of hearts. 
And had both of his subjects' hearts and strangers' 120 

Much more than aU the kings of Christendom. 

Chan, He won them with his gold. 

Byr. He won them chiefly 

With his so general piety and justice ; 
And as the little, yet great, Macedon 
Was said with his humane philosophy 125 

cj>.w. a 


To teach the rapefnl Hyrcans marriage, 

And bring the barbarous Sogdians to nourish, 

Not kill their aged parents as before ; 

Th' incestuous Persians to reverence 

Their mothers, not to use them as their wives ; 130 

The Indians to adore the Grecian gods ; 

The Scythians to inter, not eat their parents ; 

So he, with his divine philosophy 

(Which I may call his, since he chiefly us'd it) 

In Turkey, India, and through all the world, 135 

Expell'd profane idolatry, and from earth 

Rais'd temples to the Highest : whom with the Word 

He could not win, he justly put to sword. 

Chan. He sought for gold and empire. 

Byr, Twas rdigionp 

And her full propagation, that he sought ; 140 

If gold had been his end, it had been hoarded. 
When he had fetch'd it in so many fleets. 
Which he spent not on Median luxury. 
Banquets, and women, Calydonian wine. 

Nor dear Hyrcanian fishes, but employed it 145 

To propagate his empire ; and his empire 
Desir'd t' extend so that he might withal 
Extend religion through it, and aU nations 
Reduce to one firm constitution 

Of piety, justice, and one pubhc weal ; 150 

To which end he made all his matchless subjects 
Make tents their castles and their garrisons ; 
True Catholics, countrymen and their allies; 
Heretics, strangers and their enemies. 
There was in him the magnanimity — 155 

Mont. To temper your extreme applause, my lord. 
Shorten and answer all things in a word. 
The greatest commendation we can give 
To the remembrance of that king deceased 
Is that he spar'd not his own eldest son, 160 

But put him justly to a violent death. 
Because he sought to trouble his estates. 

Byr. Is't so ? 

Chan, [aside to Montigny. That bit, my lord, upon my 
Twas bitterly replied, and doth amaze him. 


The King suddenly enters, having determined what to do 

Hen. It is riesolv'd ; a work shall now be done, 165 

Which, while leam'd Atlas shall with stars be crown'd, 
While th' Ocean walks in stonns his wavy round, 
WhUe moons, at fvOl, repair their broken rings. 
While Lucifer foreshows Aurora's springs, 
And Arctos sticks above the earth unmov'd, 170 

Shall make my realm be blest, and me belov'd. 
Call in the Count d'Auvergne. 

Enter D'Auvergne 

A word, my lord I 
VnH you become as wilful as your friend. 
And draw a mortal justice on your heads. 
That hangs so black and is so loath to strike ? 175 

If you would utter what I know you know 
Of his inhuman treason, one strong bar 
Betwixt his will and duty were dissolv'd. 
For then I know he would submit himsdf . 
Think you it not as strong a point of 'faith 180 

To rectify your loyalties to me. 
As to be trusty in each other's wrong ? 
Trust that deceives ourselves i[s] treachery. 
And truth, that truth conceals, an open Ue. 

D'Auv. My lord, if I could utter any thought 185 

Instructed with disloyalty to you, 
And might light any safety to my friend. 
Though mine own heart came after, it should out. 

Hen. 1 know you may, and that your faiths affected 
To one another are so vain and false 190 

That your own strengths will ruin you : ye contend 
To cast up rampires to you in the sea. 
And strive to stop the waves that run before you. 

D'Auv. AU this, my lord, to me is [mystery]. 

Hen. It is ? I'll make it plain enough, believe me I 195 
Come, my Lord Chancellor, let us end our mate. 

Enter Varennes, whispering to Byron 

Var. Yon are undone, my lord. Exit 
Byr. Is it possible ? 

Queen. Play, good my lord : whom look you for ? 
Ep. Your mind 

Is not upon yoar game. 


Byr, Play, pray you play ! 

Hen. Enough, 'tis late, and time to leave our play 200 
On all hands ; all forbear the room ! [Exeunt all but B3rron 

and Henry] My lord. 
Stay you with me ; yet is your will resolved 
To duty and the main bond of your life ? 
I swear, of all th' intrusions I have made 
Upon your own good and continued fortunes, 205 

This is the last; inform me yet the truth. 
And here I vow to you (by all my love, 
By all means shown you even to this extreme. 
When aU men else forsake you) you are safe. 
What passages have slipp'd 'twixt Count Fuentes, 210 

You, and the Duke of Savoy ? 

Byr, Good my lord. 

This nail is driven already past the head. 
You much have overcharg'd an honest man; 
And I beseech you yield my innocence justice. 
But with my single valour, gainst them all 215 

That thus have poisoned your opinion of me. 
And let me take my vengeance by my sword ; 
For I protest I never thought an action 
More "ttian my tongue hath utter'd. 

Hen, Would 'twere true I 

And that your thoughts and deeds had fell no fouler, 220 
But you disdain submission, not rememb'ring» 
That (in intents urg'd for the common good) 
He that shall hold his peace, being charg'd to speak. 
Doth all the peace and nerves of empire break; 
Which on your conscience lie. Adieu, good-night 1 Exit 225 

Byr, Kings hate to hear what they command men speak ; 
Ask life, and to desert of death ye yield : 
Where medicines loathe, it irks men to be heal'd. 

Enter Vitry, with two or three of the Guard, Epemon, the 
Vidame, following, Vitry lays hand on Bjrron's sward, 

Vit. Resign your sword, my lord ; the King commands it. 

Byr, Me to resign my sword ? What king is he 230 

Halli us'd it better for the realm than I ? 
My sword, that all the wars within the length. 
Breadth, and the whole dimensions of great France, 
Hath sheath'd betwixt his hilt and horrid point,. 


And fix'd ye all in such a flonrishing peace I 235 

My sword, that never enemy could enforce, 
Bereft me by my friends 1 Now, good my lord, 
Beseech the King I may resign my sword 
To his hand only. 

Enter Janin 

Jan. [To VUry] You must do your office. 
The King commands yon. 

Vii, 'Tis in vain to strive. 240 

For I must force it. 

Byr, Have I ne'er a friend. 

That bears another for me ? All the guard ? 
What, will you kill me, will you smother here 
His life that can command and save in field 
A hundred thousand lives ? For manhood sake 245 

Lend something to this poor forsaken hand ; 
For all my service let me have the honouir 
To die defendiug of my innocent self. 
And have some little space to pray to God. 


Enter Henry 

Hen, Come, you are an atheist, Byron, and a traitor 250 
Both foul and damnable. Thy innocent self t 
No leper is so buried quick ia ulcers 
As thy corrupted soul. Thou end the war, 
And settle peace in France 1 What war hath rag'd 
Into whose fury I have not expos'd 255 

My person [wi-^] as free a spirit as thine ? 
Thy worthy father and thyself combined 
And arm'd in all the merits of your valours. 
Your bodies thrust amidst the liiickest fights. 
Never were bristled with so many battles, 260 

Nor on the foe have broke such woods of lances 
As grew upon' my thigh, and I have marshalled — 
I am asham'd to brag thus ; [but] where Envy 
And Arrogance their opposite bulwark raise. 
Men are allow'd to use their proper prs^e. 263 

Away with him. Exit Henry 

Byr. Away with him ? live I, 

And hear my life thus slighted ? Cursed man, 
That ever the intelligencing lights 


Betray'd me to men's whorish fellowships. 

To princes' Moorish slaveries, to be made 270 

The anvil on which only blows and wounds 

Were made the seed and wombs of otheis' honours ; 

A property for a tyrant to set up 

And puff down witii the vapour of his breath. 

Will you not kill me ? 

Vit. No, we will not hurt you ; 275 

We are commanded only to conduct you 
Into your lodging. 

Byr, To my lodging ? Where ? 

Vit. Within the Cabinet of Arms, my lord. 

Byr, What, to a prison ? Death 1 I will not go. 

Vit. We'll force you then. 

Byr, And take away my sword ; 280 

A proper point of force ; ye had as good 
Have robb'd me of my soul, slaves of my stars 
Partial and bloody 1 O that in mine eyes 
Were all the sorcerous poison of my woes 
That I might witch ye headlong from your height, 283 

And trample out your execrable light. 

Vit. Come, will you go, my lord ? This rage is vain. 

Byr, And so is all your grave authority; 
And that all France shall feel before I die. 
Ye see all how they use good Catholics 1 290 

[Exit B3rron guarded] 

Ep, Farewell for ever 1 So have I discem'd 
An exhalation that would be a star 
FaU, when the sun forsook it, in a sink. 
Sho[w]s ever overthrow that are too large, 
And hugest cannons burst with overcharge. 295 

Enter D'Auvergne, Pr&lin, following with a Guard 

Prd, My lord, I have commandment from the King 
To charge you go with me, and ask your sword. 
D'Auv, My sword ? Who fears it ? It was ne'er the 
Of any but wild boars. I prithee take it ; 
HadM thou advertis'd this when last we met, 300 

I had been in my bed, and fast asleep 
Two hours ago ; lead, I'll go where thou wilt. 

EMit fgHordedl 


Vid. See how he bears his cross with his small strength 
On easier shoulders than the other Atlas. 

Ep, Strength to aspire is still accompanied 305 

With weakness to endure ; aU popular gifts 
Are colours [that] wiU bear no vinegar, 
And rather to adverse afiairs betray 
Thine arm against them : his state still is best 
That hath most inward worth ; and that's best tried 310 

That neither glories^ nor is glorified. Ejfeunt 

[The Council Chamber] 

Enter Henry» Soissons, Janin, D'Escures, cum aliis 

Hen, What shall we think, my lords, of these new forces 
That from the King of Spain hath pass'd the Alps ? 
For which, I think, his Lord Ambassador 
Is come to Court to get their pass for Flanders ? 

Jan. I think, my lord, they have no end for Flanders ; 5 
Coimt Maurice being already enter'd Brabant 
To pass to Flanders, to relieve Ostend, 
And th' Archduke full prepared to hinder him ; 
And sure it is that they must measure forces. 
Which (ere this new force could have pass'd the Alps) 10 

Of force must be encounter'd. 

Sots. 'Tis unlikely 

That their march hath so large an aim as Flanders. 

D'Es, As these times sort, they may have shorter reaches, 
That would pierce further. 

Hen. I have been advertis'd 

How Count Fuentes (by whose means this army 15 

Was lately levied, and whose hand was strong 
In thmstiDg on Byron's conspiracy) 
Hath caus'd these cimning forces to advance 
With colour only to set down in Flanders ; 
But hath intentional respect to favour 20 

And count'nance his false partisans in Bresse 
And friends in Burgundy, to give them heart 
For the full taking of their hearts from me. 
Be as it will ; we shall prevent their worst ; 
And therefore call in Spain's Ambassador. 25 


Enter Ambassador with others 

What would the Lord Ambassador of Spain ? 

Amb. First, in my master's name, I would beseech 
Your Highness' hearty thought that his true hand. 
Held in your vow'd amities, hath not touch'd 
At any least point in Byron's offence, 30 

Nor once had notice of a crime so foul ; 
Whereof, since he doubts not you stand resolVd, 
He pra3rs your league's continuance in this favour. 
That the army he hath rais'd to march for Flanders 
May have safe passage by your frontier towns, 35 

And find the river free that runs by Rhone. 

Hen, My lord, my frontiers shall not be disarm'd. 
Till, by arraignment of the Duke of Bjnron, 
My scruples are resolv'd, and I may know 
In what account to hold your master's faith 40 

For his observance of the league betwixt us. 
You wish me to believe that he is clear 
From all the projects caus'd by Coimt Fuentes, 
His special agent ; but where deeds pull down. 
Words may repair no faith. I scarce can think 45 

That his gold was so bounteously employ'd 
Without his special counsel and command : 
These faint proceedings in our royal faiths. 
Make subjects prove so faithless ; if, because 
We sit above the danger of the laws, 50 

We likewise lift our arms above their justice. 
And that our heavenly Sovereign bounds not us 
In those religious confines out of which 
Our justice and our true laws are inform'd. 
In vain have we expectance that our subjects 55 

Should not as well presume to offend their earthly. 
As we our heavenly Sovereign ; and this breach 
Made in the forts of all society, 
Of all celestial, and humane respects. 

Makes no strengths of our bounties, counsels, arms, 60 

Hold out against their treasons ; and the rapes 
Made of humanity and religion. 
In all men's more than Pagan liberties, 
Atheisms, and slaveries, will derive their Springs 
From their base precedents, copied out of kings; 65 

But all this shaU not make me break the commerce 


Antfaoris'd by our treaties ; let yonr army 
Take the directest pass ; it shall go safe. 

Anib, So rest your Highness ever, and assur'd 
That my true Sovereign loathes all opposite thoughts. 70 

[Exit the Ambassador] 

Hen, [To Janin] Are our despatches made to all the 
Princes, and potentates of Christendom, 
Ambassadors and province governors, 
T'inform the truth of this conspiracy ? 

Jan, They all are made, my lord ; and some give out 75 

That 'tis a blow given to religion. 
To weaken it, in ruining of him 
That said he never wish'd more glorious title 
Than to be call'd the Scourge of Huguenots. 

Sois. Others that are like favourers of the fault, 80 

Said 'tis a politic advice from England 
To break the sacred javelins both together. 

Hen, Such shut their eyes to truth ; we can but set 
His lights before them, and his trumpet sound 
Close to their ears ; their partial wilfulness, 85 

In resting blind and deaf, or in perverting 
What their most certain senses apprdiend. 
Shall nought discomfort our impiurtial justice. 
Nor clear the desperate fault that doth enforce it. 

Enter Vitry 

Vit. The Peers of France, my lord, refuse t'appear 90 

At the arraignment of the Duke Byron. 

Hen. The Court may yet proceed ; and so command it. 
'Tis not their slackness to appear shall serve 
To let my will t'appear in any fact 

Wherein the boldest of them tempts my justice. 95 

I am resolv'd, and will no more endure 
To have my subjects make what I command 
The subject of their oppositions. 
Who evermore slack their allegiance, 

As kings forbear their penance. How sustain 100 

Your prisoners their strange durance ? 

Vit. One of them. 

Which is the Count d'Auvergne, hath merry spirits. 
Eats well and sleeps, and never can imagine 
That any place where he is, is a prison ; 
Where, <mi the other part, the Duke Byron, 105 


Enter'd his prison as into his grave. 

Rejects all food, sleeps not, nor once lies down ; 

Fury hath arm'd his thoughts so thick with thorns 

That rest can have no entry : he disdains 

To grace the prison with the slend'rest show no 

Of any patience, lest men should conceive 

He thought his sufferance in the [least] sort fit ; 

And holds his bands so worthless of his worth 

That he impairs it to vouchsafe to them 

The [least] part of the peace that freedom owes it; 115 

That patience therein is a willing slavery. 

And like the camel stoops to take the load : 

So still he walks ; or rather as a bird^ 

Enter'd a closet, which unwares is made 

His desperate prison, being pursu'd, amaz'd 120 

And wrathful beats his breast from wall to wall. 

Assaults the light, strikes down himself, not out, 

And being taken, struggles, gasps, and bites. 

Takes all his taker's strokings to be strokes, 

Abhorreth food, and with a savage will 125 

Frets, pines, and dies for former liberty : 

So faxes the wrathful Duke ; and when the strength 

Of these dumb rages break out into sounds. 

He breathes defiance to the world, and bids us 

Make ourselves drunk with the remaining blood 13O 

Of five and thirty wounds receiv'd in fight 

For us and ours, for we shall never brag. 

That we have made his spirits check at death. 

This rage in walks and words ; but in his looks 

He comments all and prints a world of books. 135 

Hen. Let others learn by him to curb their spleens. 
Before they be curb'd, and to cease their grudges. 
Now I am settled in my sun of height, 
The circular splendour and full sphere of state 
Take all place up from envy : as the sun 140 

At height and passive o'er the crowns of meii. 
His beams difius'd, and down-right pour'd on them. 
Cast but a little or no shade at all : 
So he that is advanc'd above the heads 

Of all his emulators with high light 145 

Prevents their envies, and deprives liiem quite. 



The Gold&n Chamber in the Paktce of Justice] 

Enter the Chancellor, Haxlay. Potier, Fleury, in scarlet gowns. 
La Fin, D'Escares, with other officers of state 

Chan, I wonder at the prisoner's so long stay. 

Har. I think it may be made a question 
If his impatience will let him come. 

Pot. Yes, he is now well stay 'd : time and his judgment. 
Have cast his passion and his fever ofE. 5 

Fleu. His fever may be past, but for his passions, 
I fear me we shall find it spic'd too hotly 
With his old powder. 

D'Es, He is sure come forth ; 

The carosse of the Marquis of Rosny 

Ckmducted him along to th' Arsenal 10 

Close to the river-side ; and there I saw him 
Enter a barge cover'd with tapestry. 
In which the King's guards waited and receiv'd him. 
Stand by there, dear the placet 

Chan. The prisoner comes. 

My Lord La Fin, forbear your sight awhile ; 15 

It may incense the prisoner, who will know, 
By your attendance near us, that your hand 
Was chief in his discovery ; which, as yet, 
I think he doth not doubt. 

La F. 1 will forbear 

Till your good pleasures call me. Exit La Fin 

Hot. When he knows, 20 

And sees La Fin accuse him to his face. 
The Court I think wiU shake with his distemper. 

Enter Vitry, Byron, with others and a guard 

Vit. You see, my lord, 'tis in the Golden Chamber. 

Byr. The Golden Chamber 1 Where the greatest longs 
Have thought them honour'd to receive a place, . 25 

And I have had it ; am I come to stand 
In rank and habit here of men arraign'd. 
Where I have sat assistant, and been honour'd 
With glorious title of the chiefest virtuous; 
Where the King's chief Solicitor hath said 30 

There was in France no man that ever liv'd 


Whose parts were worth my imxtation; 

That, but mine own worth, I could imitate none : 

And that I made myself inimitable 

To all that could come after ; whom this Court 35 

Hath seen to sit upon the flower-de-luce 

In recompence of my renowned service. 

Must I be sat on now by petty judges ? 

These scarlet robes, that come to sit and fight 

Against my life, dismay my valour more 40 

Than all tiie bloody cassocks Spain hath brought 

To field against it. 

Vit, To the bar, my lord I 

He salutes and stands to the batr 

Hat. Read the indictment 1 

Chan, Stay, I will invert, 

For shortness' sake, the form of our proceedings 
And out of all the points the process holds, 45 

Collect five principal, with which we charge yon. 

1. First you conferr'd with one, call'd Picoti6, 
At Orleans bom, and into Flanders fled. 

To hold intelligence by him with the Archduke, 

And for two voyages to that effect, 50 

Bestow'd on him five hundred fifty crowns. 

2. Next you held treaty with the Duke of Savoy, 
Without the King's permission ; offering him 

All service and assistance gainst all men, 

In hope to have in marriage his third daughter. 55 

3. Thirdly, you held intelligence with the Duke, 
At taking in of Bourg and other forts ; 
Advising him, with all your prejudice. 

Gainst the King's army and his royal person. 

4. The fourth is, that you would have brought the King, 60 
Before Sai^t Katherine's fort, to be there slain ; 

And to that end writ to the Governor, 

In which you gave him notes to know his Highness. 

5. Fifthly, you sent La Fin to treat with Savoy 

And with the Count Fuentes of more plots, 65 

Touching the ruin of the King and reaihn. 

Byr. All this, my lord, I answer, and deny. 
And first for Picot6 : he was my prisoner. 
And therefore I might well confer with him ; 
But that our conference tended to the Archduke 70 

Is nothing so : I only did employ him 


To Captain La Fortane, for the rednction 

Of Searre to the service of the King, 

Who us'd such speedy diligence therein, 

That shortly 'twas assur'd his Majesty. 75 

2. Next, for my treaties with the Duke of Savoy, 
Roncas, his secretary, having made 

A motion to me for the Duke's third daughter, 

I told it to the 'King, who having since 

Given me the understanding by La Force 80 

Of his dislike, I never dream'd of it. 

3. Thirdly, for my intelligence with the Duke, 
Advising him against his Highness' army : 
Had this been true I had not undertaken 

Th' assault of Bourg against the King's opinion, 85 

Having assistance but by them about me ; 
And, having won it for him, had not been 
Put out of such a government so easily. 

4. Fourthly, for my advice to kill the King ; 

I would beseech his Highness' memory 90 

Not to let slip that I alone dissuaded 

His viewing of that fort, informing him 

It had good mark-men, and he could not go 

But in exceeding danger; which advice 

Diverted him, the rather since I said 95 

That if he had desire to see the place 

He should receive from me a plot of it. 

Offering to take it with five hundred men, 

And I myself would go to the assault. 

5. And lastly, for intelligences held 100 
With Savoy and Puentes, I confess 

That being denied to keep the citadel, 

Which with incredible peril I had got. 

And seeing another honour'd with my spoils, 

I grew so desperate that I found my spirit 105 

Enrag'd to any act, and wish'd m3rBelf 

Cover'd with blood. 

Chan. With whose blood ? 

Byr, With mine own ; 

Wishing to live no longer, being denied. 
With such suspicion of me and set win 

To rack my furious htmiour into blood. no 

And for two months' space I did speak and write 
More than I ought, but have done ever well ; 


And therefore your informers have been false. 
And, with intent to tyrannize, subom'd. 

Fleu. What if our witnesses come face to face, 115 

And justify much more than we allege ? 

Byr. They must be hirehngs, then, and men corrupted. 

Pot. What think you of La Fin 1 

Byr. I hold La Fin 

An honour'd gentleman, my friend and kinsman. 

Har, If he then aggravate what we affirm 120 

With greater accusations to your face. 
What will you say ? 

Byr. I know it cannot be. 

Chan. Call in my Lord La Fin. 

Byr. Is he so near. 

And kept so close from me ? Can all the world 
Make him a treacher ? 

Enter La Fm 

Chan. I suppose, my lord, 125 

You have not stood within, without the ear 
Of what hath here been urg'd against the Duke; 
If you have heard it, and upon your knowledge 
Can witness all is true upon your soul, 
Utter your knowledge. 

La F. 1 have heard, my lord, 130 

All that hath pass'd here, and, upon my soul, 
(Being charg'd so urgently in such a Court) 
Upon my knowledge I affirm all true ; 
And so much more as, had the prisoner lives 
As many as his years, would make all forfeit. 135 

Byr. O all ye virtuous Powers in earth cmd heaven 
That have not put on hellish flesh and blood. 
From whence these monstrous issues are produc'd» 
That cannot bear, in execrable concord 

And one prodigious subject, contraries ; 140 

Nor as the isle that, of the world admir'd. 
Is sever'd from the worlds can cut yourselves 
From the consent and sacred harmony 
Of life, yet live ; of honour, yet be honour'd ; 
As this extravagant and errant rogue, 145 

From all your fair decorums and just laws 
Finds power t6 do, and like a loathsome wen 
Sticks to the face of nature and this Court: 

• .V> ' 


Thicken this air, and tarn your plaguy rage 

Into a shape as dismal as his sin ; 150 

And with some equal horror tear him ofiE 

From sight and memory : let not such a Court, 

To whose fame all the kings of Christendom 

Now laid their ears, so crack her royal trump. 

As to sound through it that here vaunted justice 155 

Was got in such an incest. Is it justice 

To tempt and witch a man to bieak the law, 

And by that witch condemn him ? Let me draw 

Poison into me with this cursed air 

If he bewitch'd me and transform'd me not ; 160 

He bit me by the ear, and made me drink 

Enchanted waters ; let me see an image 

That utter'd these distinct words : Thou shall dis, 

wicked king ; and if the Devil gave him 

Such power upon an image, upon me 165 

How might he tyrannize that by his vows 

And oaths so Stygian had my nerves and will 

In more awe than his own ? What man is he 

That is so high but he would higher be ? 

So roundly sighted, but he may be found 170 

To have a blind side, which by craft pursu'd. 

Confederacy, and simply trusted treason. 

May wrest him past his Angel and his reason ? 

Chan. Witchcraft can never taint an honest mind. 

Har. True gold will any trial stand untouch'd. 175 

Pot. For colours that will stain when they are tried. 
The cloth itself is ever cast aside. 

Byr. Sometimes the very gloss in an3rtfaing 
Will seem a stain ; the fault, not in the light, 
Nor in the guilty object, but our sight. 180 

My gloss, rais'd from the richness of my stuff. 
Had too much splendour for the owly eye 
Of politic and thankless royalty ; 

1 did deserve too much ; a pleurisy 

Of that blood in me is the cause I die. 18$ 

Virtue in great men must be small and sUght, 

For poor stars rule where she is exquisite. 

'Tis tyrannous and impious policy 

To put to death by fraud and treachery ; 

Sleight is then ro3ral when it makes men live ISK> 

And if it urge faults, urgeth to forgive. 


He must be guiltless that condemns tlie guilty. 

like things do nourish like, and not destroy them ; 

Minds must be sound that judge affairs of weight. 

And seeing hands cut corrosives from your sight. 195 

A lord, intelligencer ! Hangman-like ? 

Thrust him from human fellowship to the deserts. 

Blow him with curses ; shall your Justice call 

Treachery her father ? Would 3rou wish her weig^ 

My valour with the hiss of such a viper ? 200 

\^ntiat I hjBtve done to shun the mortal shame 

Of so unjust an opposition, 

My envious stars cannot deny me this. 

That I may make my judges witnesses. 

And that my wretched fortunes have reserved 205 

For my last comfort : ye all know, my lords. 

This body, gash'd with five and thirty wounds. 

Whose life and death you have in your award. 

Holds not a vein that hath not open'd been. 

And which I would not open 3ret again 210 

For you and yours ; this hand, that writ the lines 

Alleged against me, hath enacted still 

More good than there it only talk'd of ill. 

I must confess my choler hath transferred 

My tender spleen to all intemperate speech, 215 

But reason ever did my deeds attend 

In worth of praise, and imitation. 

Had I borne any will to let them loose, 

I could have flesh'd them with bad services 

In England lately, and in Switzerland ; 220 

There are a hundred gentlemen by name 

Can witness my demeanour in the first. 

And in the last ambassage I adjure 

No other testimonies than the Seigneurs 

De Vic and Sillery, who amply know 225 

In what sort and with what fidelity 

I bore myself to reconcile and knit 

In one desire so many wills disjoined. 

And from the King's allegiance quite withdrawn. 

My acts ask'd many men, though done by one ; 230 

And I were but one I stood for thousands. 

And still I hold my worth, though not my place: 

Nor slight me, judges, though I be but one. 

One man, in one sole expedition. 


Reduc'd into th' imperial power of Rome 235 

Armenia, Pontus, and Arabia, 

S3nia, Albania, and Iberia, 

Conquered th' H3rrcanians, and to Caucasus 

His arm extended ; the Numidians 

And Afric to the shores meridional 240 

His power subjected ; and that part of Spain 

Which stood from those parts that Sertorius rul'd. 

Even to the Atlantic sea he conquered. 

Th' Albanian kings he from [their] kingdoms chas'd. 

And at the Caspian sea their dwellings plac'd ; 245 

Of all the eaxih's globe, by power and his advice. 

The round-^3red Ocean saw him victor thrice. 

And what shall let me, but your cruel doom. 

To add as much to France as he to Rome. 

And, to leave Justice neither sword nor word 250 

To use against my life, this senate knows 

That what with one victorious hand I took 

I gave to all your uses with another ; 

With this I took and propp'd the falling kingdom. 

And gave it to the King ; I have kept 255 

Your laws of state from fire, and you yourselves 

Fix'd in this high tribunal, from whose height 

The vengeful Satumals of the League 

Had hurl'd ye headlong ; do ye then return 

This retribution ? Can the cruel King, 260 

The kingdom, laws, and you, all sav'd by me. 

Destroy their saver ? What, ay me 1 I did 

Adverse to this, this damn'd enchanter did. 

That took into his will my motion ; 

And being bankrout both of wealth and worth, 265 

Pursu'd with quarrels and with suits in law, 

Fear'd by the kingdom, threaten'd by the King, 

Would raise the loathed dunghill of his ruins 

Upon the monumental heap of mine ! 

Tom with possessed whirlwinds may he die, 270 

And dogs bark at his murtherous memory. 

Chan, My lord, our liberal sufferance of your speech 

Hath made it late, and for this session 

We will dismiss you ; take him back, my lord 1 

Exit Vitry and Byron 
Har. You likewise may depart. Exit La Fin 

Chan. What resteth now 275 

&D.W. 8 


To be decreed gainst this great prisoner ? 

A mighty merit and a monstrous crime 

Are here concurrent ; what by witnesses 

His letters and instructions we have prov'd. 

Himself confesseth, and excuseth all 280 

With witchcraft and the only act of thought. 

For witchcraft, I esteem it a mere strength 

Of rage in him, conceiv'd gainst his accuser. 

Who, being examined, hath denied it all. 

Suppose it true, it made him false ; but wills 285 

And worthy minds witchcraft can never force. 

And for his thoughts that brake not into deeds, 

Time was the cause, not will ; the mind's free act 

In treason still is judg'd as th' outward fact. 

If his deserts have had a wealthy share 290 

In saving of our land from civil furies, 

Manlius had so that sav'd the Capitol; 

Yet for his after traitorous factions 

They threw him headlong from the place he sav'd. 

My definite sentence, then, doth this import : 295 

That we must quench the wild-fire with his blood 

In which it was so traitorously inflam'd ; 

Unless with it we seek to incense the land. 

The King can have no refuge for his life. 

If his be quitted ; this was it that made 300 

Louis th' Eleventh renounce his countrymen. 
And call the valiant Scots out of their kingdom 
To use their greater virtues and their faiths 
Than his own subjects in his royal guard. 
What then conclude your censures ? 
Omnes. He must die. 305 

Chan. Draw then his sentence formally, and send him ; 
And so all treasons in his death attend him. Exeunt 

Byron's Cell in the BasHle] 

Enter Byron, Epemon, Soissons, Janin, the Vidame, D'Escures 

Vid, I joy you had so good a day, my lord. 

Byr. I won it from them all ; the Chancellor 

I answer'd to his uttennost improvements ; 

* — » 


I mov'd my other judges to lament 

My insolent misfortunes, and to loathe 5 

The pocky soul and state-bawd, my accuser. 

I made reply to all that could be said. 

So eloquently and with such a charm 

Of grave enforcements, that methought I sat 

Like Orpheus casting reins on savage beasts ; 10 

At the arm's end, as 'twere, I took my bar 

And set it far above the high tribtmal, 

Where, like a cedar on Mount Lebanon, 

I grew, and made my judges show like box-trees ; 

And box-trees right their wishes would have made them, 15 

Whence boxes should have grown, till they had strook 

My head into the budget ; but, alas 1 

I held their bloody arms with such strong reasons. 

And, by your leave, with such a jerk of wit. 
That I fetch'd blood upon the Chancellor's cheeks. 20 

Methinks I see his countenance as he sat. 
And the most lawyerly deUvery 
Of his set speeches ; shall I play his part ? 
Ep, For heaven's sake, good my lord ! 
Byr. I wiU, i' faith I 

' Behold a wicked man, a man debauch'd, 25 

A man contesting with his King, a man 
On whom, my lord, we are not to connive, 
Though we may condole ; a man 
That, lasa majestaU, sought a lease 

Of plus quam satis. A man that vi ei armis 30 

Assail'd the King, and would per fcLs ei nefas 
Aspire the kingdom \ Here was lawyer's learning! 
Ep, He said not this, my lord, that I have heard. 
Byr, This, or the like, I swear I I pen no speeches. 
Sois. Then there is good hope of your wish'd acquittal. 35 
Byr, Acquittal ? They have reason ; were I dead 
I know they cannot aU supply my place. 
Is't possible the King should be so vain 
To think he can shake me with fear of death ? 
Or make me apprehend that he intends it ? 40 

Thinks he to make his firmest men his clouds ? 
The clouds, observing their atrial natures, 
Are borne aloft, and then, to moisture [cjhang'd. 
Fall to the earth ; where being made thick and cold. 
They lose both all their heat and levity; 45 


Yet then again recovering heat and lightness, 

Again they are advanced, and by the sun 

Made fresh and glorious ; and since clouds are rapt 

With these uncertainties, now up, now down. 

Am I to flit so with his smile or frown ? 50 

Ep, I wish your comforts and encouragements 
May spring out of your safety ; but I hear 
The Iting hath reason'd so against your life. 
And made your most friends yield so to his reasons 
That your estate is fearful. 

Byr. Yield t' his reasons ? 55 

how friends' reasons and their freedoms stretch 
When Power sets his wide tenters to their sides I 
How like a cure, by mere opinion. 

It works upon our blood I Like th' ancient gods 
Are modem kings, that liv'd past bounds themselves, 60 

Yet set a measure down to wretched men ; 
By many sophisms they made good deceit. 
And, since liiey pass'd in power, surpass'd in right ; 
When kings' wUls pass, the stars wii^ and the sun 
Suffers eclipse ; rude thunder 3delds to them 65 

His horrid wings, sits smooth as glass eng[l]az'd ; 
And lightning sticks 'twixt heaven and earth amas'd : 
Men's faiths are shaken, and the pit of Truth 
O'erflows with darkness, in which Justice sits. 
And keeps her vengeance tied to make it fierce ; 70 

And when it comes, th' increased horrors show, 
Heaven's plague is sure, though full of state, and slow. 
Sister. {Within.) O my dear lord and brother ! O the Duke I 
Byr, What sounds are these, my lord ? Hark, hark, me- 

1 hear the cries of people 1 

Ep. 'Tis for one, 75 

Wounded in fight here at Saint Anthony's gate : 

Byr. 'Sfoot, one cried ' the Duke ' 1 I pray harken 
Again, or burst yourselves with silence — ^nol 
What countryman's the common headsman here ? 

Sois. He's a Burgonian. 

Byr. The great devil he is 1 80 

The bitter wizard told me a Burgonian 
Should be my headsman — strange concurrences. 
'Sdeath, who's here ? , 


Enter four Ushexs bare, Chancdlor, Harlay, Poiier, Floury, 

Vitry, Pr&lin, with others 

O then I am but dead, 
Now, now ye come all to pronounce my sentence. 
I am condemned unjustly ; tell my kinsfolks 85 

I die an innocent ; if any friend 
Pity the ruin of the State's sustainer. 
Proclaim my innocence; ah. Lord Chancellor, 
Is there no pardon, will there come no mercy ? 
Ay, put your hat on, and let me stand bare. 90 

Show yourself right a lawyer. 

Chan. I am bare ; 

What would you have me do ? 

Byr. You have not done 

Like a good Justice, and one that knew 
He sat upon the precious blood of virtue ; 
Y'ave pleas'd the cruel King, and have not borne 95 

As great regard to save as to condemn ; 
You have condemned me, my Lord Chancellor, 
But God acquits me ; He will open lay 
All your close treasons against Him to colour 
Treasons laid to His truest images ; 100 

And you, my lord, shall answer this injustice 
Before his judgment-seat : to which I summon 
In one year and a day your hot appearance. 
I go before, by men's corrupted dooms; 

But they that caus'd my death shall after come 105 

By the immaculate justice of the Highest. 

Chan, Well, good my lord, commend your soul to Him 
And to His mercy ; think of that, I pray 1 

Byr, Sir, I have thought of it, and every hour 
Since my affliction ask'd on naked knees no 

Patience to bear your unbeliev'd injustice : 
But you, nor none of you, have thought of Him 
In my eviction : y'are come to your benches 
With plotted judgments ; your link'd ears so loud 
Sing with prejudicate winds that nought is heard 115 

Of all poor prisoners urge gainst your award. 

Har, Passion, my lord, transports your bitterness 
Beyond all colour and your proper judgment : 
No man hath known your merits mare than I, 
And would to God your great misdeeds had been 120 


As much undone as they have been conceal'd ; 

The cries of them for justice, in desert, 

Have been so loud and piercing that they deafen'd 

The ears of Mercy ; and have laboured more 

Your judges to compress than to enforce them. 125 

Pot We bring you here your sentence ; will you read it ? 

Byr, For Heaven's sake, shame to use me wi^ such rigour ; 
I know what it imports, and will not have 
Mine ear blown into flames with hearing it. 
\To Fleury] Have you been one of them that have condemn'd 

me ? 130 

Fleu, My lord, I am your orator ; God comfort you I 

Byr, Good sir, my father lov'd you so entirely 
That if you have been one, my soul forgives you. 
It is the King (most childish that he is. 

That takes what he hath given) that injures me : 135 

He gave grace in the first draught of my fault. 
And now restrains it : grace again I ask ; 
Let him again vouchsafe it: send to him, 
A post will soon return : the Queen of England 
Told me that if the wilful Earl of Essex 140 

Had us'd submission, and but ask'd her mercy. 
She would have given it past resumption. 
She like a gracious princess did desire 
To pardon him, even as she pray'd to God 
He would let down a pardon unto her; 145 

He yet was guilty, I am innocent: 
He still refused grace, I importune it. 

Chan, This ask'd in time, my lord, while he besought it, 
And ere he had made his severity known. 
Had with much joy to him, I know, been granted. 150 

Byr, No, no, his bounty then was misery, 
To offer when he knew 'twould be refus'd ; 
He treads the vulgar path of all advantage. 
And loves men for his vices, not for their virtues. 
My service would have quicken'd gratitude 155 

In his own death, had he been truly royal ; 
It would have stirr'd the image of a king 
Into perpetual motion to have stood 
Near the conspiracy restrain'd at Mantes, 
And in a danger, that had then the wolf 160 

To fly upon his bosom, had I only held 
Intelligence with the conspirators. 


Who stuck at no check but my loyalty. 

Nor kept life in their hopes but in my death. 

The siege of Amiens would have soften'd rocks, 165 

Where, cover'd all in showers of shot and fire, 

I seem'd to all men's eyes a fighting flame 

With bullets cut in fashion of a man, 

A sacrifice to valour, impious king 1 

Which he will needs extinguish with my blood. 170 

Let him beware : justice will fall from heaven 

In the same form I served in that siege. 

And by the light of that he shall discern 

What good my ill hath brought him ; it will nothing 

Assure his state ; the same quench he hath cast 175 

Upon my life, shall quite put out his fame. 

This day he loseth what he shall not find 

By all days he survives, so good a servant, 

Nor Spain so great a foe ; with whom, alas I 

Because I treated am I put to death ? 180 

'Tis but a politic gloze; my courage rais'd me, 

For the dear price of five and thirty scars. 

And that hath ruin'd me, I thank my stars. 

Come, I'll go where ye will, ye shall not lead me. 

[Exit Byron] 

Chan. 1 fear his frenzy ; never saw I man 185 

Of such a spirit so amaz'd at death. 

Har, He alters every minute : what a vapour 
The strongest mind is to a storm of crosses 1 

Manent Epemon, Soissons, Janin, the Vidame, D'Escures 

Ep. Oh of what contraries consists a man 1 
Of what impossible mixtures 1 Vice and virtue, 190 

Corruption, and etemnesse, at one time. 
And in one subject, let together loose 1 
We have not any strength but weakens us. 
No greatness but doth crush us into air. 

Our knowledges do Ught us but to err, 195 

Our ornaments are burthens, our deUghts 
Are our tormenteis, fiends that, rais'd in fears. 
At parting shake our roofs about our ears. 

Sots. O Virtue, thou art now far worse than Fortune ; 
Her gifts stuck by the Duke when thine are vanished, 200 
Thou brav'st thy friend in need : Necessity, 


That used to keep thy wealth. Contempt, thy love, 

Have both abandoned thee in his extremes, 

Thy powers are shadows, and thy comfort, dreams. 

Vid, O real Goodness, if thou be a power, 205 

And not a word alone, in human uses, 
Appear out of this angry conflagration. 
Where this great captain, thy late temple, bums. 
And turn his vicious fury to thy flame 

From all earth's hopes mere gilded with thy fame^ 210 

Let Piety enter wit^ her willing cross. 
And take him on it ; ope his breast and arms. 
To all the storms Necessity can breathe, 
And burst them all with his embraced death. 

Jan, Yet are the civil tumults of his spirits 215 

Hot and outrageous : not resolv'd, alas, 
(Being but one man [under] the kingdom's doom) 
He doubts, storms, threatens, rues, complains, implores ; 
Grief hath brought all his forces to his looks. 
And nought is left to strengthen him within, 220 

Nor lasts one habit of those griev'd aspects ; 
Blood expels paleness, paleness blood doth chase. 
And sorrow errs through all forms in his face. 

D'Es. So furious is he, that the politic law 
Is much to seek, how to enact her sentence : 225 

Authority back'd with arms, though he unarmed. 
Abhors his fury, and with doubtful eyes 
Views on what ground it should sustain liis ruins; 
And as a savage boar that (hunted long, 
Assail'd and set up) with his only eyes 230 

Swimming in fire, keeps ofl the baying hounds, 
Though sunk himself, yet holds his anger up, 
And snows it forth in foam ; holds firm his stand. 
Of battailous bristles ; feeds his hate to die. 
And whets his tusks with wrathful majesty: 235 

So fares the furious Duke, and with hi^ looks 
Doth teach Death horrors ; makes the hangman learn 
New habits for his bloody impudence, 
Which now habitual horror from him drives. 
Who for his life shuns death, by which he lives. 240 



The Courtyard of the BasHle, A Scaffold] 
Enter Chancellor, Harlay, Potier, Fleury, Vltry, [Pr&lin] » 

Vit, Will not your lordship have the Duke distinguished 
From other prisoners, where the order is 
To give up men condemn'd into the hands 
Of th' executioner ? He would be the death 
Of him that he should die by, ere he sufier'd 5 

Such an abjection. 

Chan. , But to bind his hands 

I hold it passing needful. 

Har. 'Tis my lord. 

And very dangerous to bring him loose. 

Prd. You will in all despair and fury plunge him. 
If you but ofEer it. 10 

Pot My lord, by this 

The prisoner's spirit is something pacifiLed, 
And 'tis a fear that th' offer of those bands 
Would breed fresh furies in him and disturb 
The entry of his soul into her peace. 

Chan, I would not that, for any possible danger is 

That can be wrought by his unarmed hands. 
And therefore in his own form bring him in. 

Enter Byron, a Bishop or two, with all the guards, soldiers with 


Byr, Where shall this weight fall ? On what region 
Must this declining prominent pour his load ? 
I'U break my blood's high billows 'gainst my stars. 20 

Before this hill be shook into a flat, 
All France shall feel an earthquake ; with what murmur. 
This world shrinks into chaos ! 

[Bishop."] Good, my lord, 

Forego it willingly ; and now resign 
Your sensual powers entirely to your soul. 25 

Byr. Horror of death ! Let me alone in peace. 
And leave my soul to me, whom it concerns ; 
You have no charge of it ; I feel her free : 
How she doth rouse and like a falcon stretch 
Her silver wings, as threatening Death with death ; 30 

At whom I joyfully wiU cast her off. 


I know this body but a sink of folly. 

The ground-work and rais'd frame of woe and frailty, 

The bond and bundle of corruption, 

A quick corse, only sensible of grief, 35 

A walking sepulchre, or household thief, 

A glass of air, broken with less than breath, 

A slave bound face to face to Death till death: 

And what said all you more ? I know, besides. 

That life is but a dark and stormy night 40 

Of senseless dreams, terrors, and broken sleeps ; 

A tyranny, devising pains to plague 

And make man long in dying, racks his death ; 

And Death is nothing ; what can you say more ? f 

I [being] a [large] globe, and a little earth, ^ 45 

Am seated like earth, betwixt both the heavens, » 

That if I rise, to heaven I rise ; if fall, 

I likewise fall to heaven ; what stronger faith 

Hath any of your souls ? What say you more ? 

Why lose I time in these things ? Talk of knowledge I 50 

It serves for inward use. I will not die 

Like to a clergyman ; but like the captain 

That pray'd on horseback, and with sword in hand, 

Threaten'd the sun, commanding it to stand ; 

These are but ropes of sand. 

Chan. Desire you then 55 

To speak with any man ? 

Byr. I would speak with La Force and Saint Blancart. 

[Vit. They are not in the city.] 

Byr. Do they fly me ? 

Where is Prevost, Controller of my house ? 

Prd. Gone to his house i' th' country three da3^ since. 60 

Byr» He should have stay'd here ; he keeps all my blanks. 
Oh all the world forsakes me ! Wretched world. 
Consisting most of parts that fly each other, 
A firmness breeding all inconstancy, 

A bond of all disjunction ; like a man 65 

Long buried, is a man that long hath liv'd ; 
Touch him, he falls to ashes : for one fault, 
I forfeit all the fashion of a man. 
Why should I keep my soul in this dark light, 
Whose black beams Ughted me to lose my self ? 70 

When I have lost my arms, my fame, my mind. 
Friends, brother, hopes, fortunes, and even my fury ? 

Sc. 4] BYRON'S TRAGEDY • 267 

happy were the man could live alone. 
To know no man, nor be of any known ! 

Hat, My lord, it is the manner once again 75 

To read the sentence. 

Byr. Yet more sentences ? 

How often will ye make me suffer death. 
As ye were proud to hear 3rour powerful dooms I 

1 know and feel you were the men that gave it. 

And die most cruelly to hear so often 80 

My crimes and bitter condemnation urg'd I 
Suffice it I am brought here and obey. 
And that all here are privy to the crimes. 

Chan. It must be read, my lord, no remedy. 

Byr. Read, if it must be, then, and I must talk. 85 

Hat, [reads the sentence"] ' The process being extraordinoHly 
ntade and examined by the Cowrt and Chambers assembled—^' 

Byr. Condemn'd for depositions of a witch. 
The common deposition, and her whore 

To all whorish perjuries and treacheries I 90 

Sure he call'd up the devil in my spirits. 
And made him to usurp my faculties: 
Shall I be cast away now he's cast out ? 
What justice is in this ? Dear countrymen. 
Take this true evidence betwixt heaven and 3rou, 95 

And quit me in your hearts. 

Chan. Go on. 

Har. [reading] * Against Charles Gontaut of Byron, Knight 
of both the Orders, Duke of Byron, Peer and Marshal of France, 
Governor of Burgundy, accused of treason, a sentence was given 100 
the twenty-second of this month, condemning the said Duke of 
Byfon of high treason, for his direct conspiracies against the 
King's person, enterprises against his state ' 

Byr. That is most false I Let me for ever be 
Deprived of heaven, as I shall be of earth, 105 

If it be true ; know, worthy countrymen, 
These two and twenty months I have been clear 
Of all attempts against the King and state. 

Har. [reading] ' Treaties and treacheries with his enemies, 
being Marshal of the King's army ; for reparation of which no 
crimes they deprived him of ail his estates, honours, and dignities, 
and condemned him to lose his head upon a scaffold at the 

Byr, The Grdve ? Had that place stood for my dispatch 


I had not yielded ; all your forces shotild not 

Stir me one foot, wild horses should have drawn 115 

My body piecemeal ere you all had brought me. 

Har. [reiidingl * Declaring all his goods, moveabU and im- 
moveable, whatsoever, to he confiscate to the King ; the Seignsury 
of Byron to lose the title of Duchy and Peer for ever '. 

Byr, Now is your form contented ? 

Chan. Ay, my lord, 120 

And I must now entreat you to deliver 
Your order up ; the King demands it of you. 

Byr, And I restore it, with my vow of safety 
In that world where both he and I are one, 
I never brake the oath I took to take it. 125 

Chan. Well, now, my lord, we'll take our latest leaves. 
Beseeching Heaven to take as clear from you 
All sense of torment in your willing death. 
All love and thought of what 3rou must leave here, 
As when you shall aspire heaven's highest sphere. 130 

Byr. Thanks to your lordship, and let me pray too 
That you will hold good censure of my life, 
By the clear witness of my soul in death. 
That I have never pass'd act gainst the King; 
Which, if my faith had let me undertake, 135 

[He] had been three years since amongst the dead. 

Har. Your soul shall find his safety in her own. 
Call the executioner I [Exeunt the Chancellor and Harlay.] 

Byr. Good sir, I pray 

Go after and beseech the Chancellor 

That he will let my body be interr'd 140 

Amongst my predecessors at Byron. 

D'Es. I go, my k>rd. Exit 

Byr. Go, go 1 Can all go thus. 

And no man come with comfort ? Farewell, world I 
He is at no end of his actions blest 

Whose ends will make him greatest, and not best ; 145 

They tread no ground, but ride in air on storms 
That follow state, and hunt their empty forms ; 
Who see not that the vaUeys of the world 
Make even right with the mountains, that they grow 
Green and lie warmer, and ever peaceful are, 150 

When clouds spit fire at hills and bum them bare ; 


Not valleys' part, but we shonld imitate streams. 

That run below the valleys and do yield 

To every molehill, every bank embrace 

That checks their currents, and when torrents come, 155 

That swell and raise them past their natural height, 

How mad they are, and troubled ! Like low [streams] 

With torrents crown' d, are men with diadems. 

Vit, My lord, 'tis late ; wiU't please you to go up ? 

Byr. Up ? 'Tis a fair preferment — ^ha, ha, ha ! 160 

There should go shouts to upshots ; not a breath 
Of any mercy yet ? Come, since we must ; 

[He mounts the scaffold\ 

[Enter the Hangman] 

Who's this ? 

Prd. The executioner, my lord. 

Byr, Death, slave, down, or by the blood that moves 
I'll pluck thy throat out t Go, I'll call you straight. 165 

Hold, boy, and this ! 

[Casting his handkerchief and doublet to a boy} 

Hangman. Soft, boy, I'll bar you that! 

Byr, Take this, then ; yet, I pray thee that again. 
I do not joy in sight of such a pageant 
As presents Death ; though this life have a curse, 
'Tts better than another that is worse. 170 

[He blindfolds his own eyes'] 

[Bishop,] My lord, now you are blind to this world's sight, 
Look upward to a world of endless light. 

Byr. Ay, ay, you talk of upward still to others^ 
And downwards look with headlong eyes yourselves. 
Now come you up, sir ; [To the Executioner] but not touch 

me yet; 175 

Where shall I be now ? 

Hangman. Here, my lord! 

Byr. Where's that ? 

Hangman. There, there, my lord ! 

Byr, And where, slave, is that there ? 

Thou seest I see not, yet speak['8t] as I saw. 
Well, now is't fit ? 

Hangman. Kneel, I beseech your Grace, 

That I may do mine office with most order. iSo 

Byr. Do it, and if at one blow thou art shorty 


Give one and tMrty, I'U endure them alL 

Hold, stay a little ! Comes there yet no mercy ? 

High Heaven curse these exemplary proceedings. 

When justice fails, they sacrifice our example. 185 

Hangman, Let me beseech you I may cut your hair. 

Byr. Out, ugly image of my cruel justice ! 
Yet wilt thou be before me ? Stay my will. 
Or, by the will of Heaven, I'll strangle thee ! 

Vit, My lord, you make too much of this your body. 190 

Which is no more your own. 

Byr. Nor is it yours ; 

I'll take my death with all the horrid rites 
And representments of the dread it merits ; 
Let tame nobility and numbed fools 

That apprehend not what they undergo, 195 

Be such exemplary and formal sheep. 
I will not have him touch me till I will ; 
If you will needs rack me beyond my reason, 
HeU take me but I'll strangle half that's here. 
And force the rest to kill me! I'll leap down, 200 

If but once more they tempt me to despair. 
You wish my quiet, yet give cause of fury : 
Think you to set rude winds upon the sea. 
Yet keep it calm, or cast me in a sleep 

With shaking of my chains about mine ears ? 205 

O honest soldiers, [To the Guard] you have seen me free 
From any care of many thousand deaths. 
Yet of this one the manner doth amaze me. 
View, view this wounded bosom I How much bound 
Should that man make me that would shoot it through. 210 
Is it not pity I should lose my life 
By such a bloody and infamous stroke ? 

Soldier, Now by thy spirit, and thy better Angel, 
If thou wert clear, the continent of France 
Would shrink beneath the burthen of thy death 215 

Ere it would bear it. 

Vit. Who's that ? 

Soldier. I say well. 

And clear your justice : here is no ground ahrinka • 
If he were clear it would ; and I say more. 
Clear, or not clear, if he witli all his foulness 
Stood here in one scale, and the King's chief minion 220 
Stood^in another place ; put here a pardon. 


Here lay a royal gift, fhis, fhis, in merit 
Should hoise ^e other minion into air. 

Vit, Hence with that frantic 1 

Byr, This is some poor witness 

That my desert might have outweighed my forfeit: 225 

But danger haunts desert when he is greatest ; 
His hearty ills are prov'd out of his glances. 
And kings' suspicions needs no balances ; 
So here's a most decretal end of me : 

Which, I desire, in me may end my wrongs. 230 

Commend my love, I charge you, to my brothers. 
And by my love and misery command them 
To keep their faiths that bind them to the King, 
And prove no stomachers of my misfortunes. 
Nor come to Court till time hath eaten out 235 

The blots and scars of my opprobrious death ; 
And tell the Earl, my dear friend of D'Auvergne, 
That my death utterly were free from grief 
But for the sad loss of his worthy friendship ; 
And if I had been made for longer life 240 

I would have more deserv'd him in my service. 
Beseeching him to know I have not us'd 
One word in my arraignment that might touch him ; 
Had I no other want than so ill meaning. 
And so farewell for everl Never more 245 

Shall any hope of my revival see me ; 
Such is the endless exUe of dead men. 
Sununer succeeds the Spring ; Autumn the Summer ; 
The frosts of Winter the fall'n leaves of Autumn : 
All these and all fruits in them 3rearly fade, 250 

And every year return : but cursed man 
Shall never more renew his vanished face. 
Fall on your knees then, statists, ere ye fall. 
That you may rise again : knees bent too late. 
Stick you in earth like statues : see in me 255 

How you are poiur'd down from your clearest heavens ; 
FaU lower yet, mix'd with th' unmoved centre. 
That your own shadows may no longer mock ye. 
Strike, strike, O strike ; fly, fly, commanding soul. 
And on thy wings for this thy body's breath, 260 

Bear the eternal victory of Death 1 






Francis I, King of France 

Philip Chaboty Admiral of 

Montmorency, Lord High 

Poyet, Lord Chancellor 

The Treasurer 

The Secretary 

The Proctor-General, or Advo- 

Two Judges 

A Notary 

The Father-in-law of Chahot 
Asall, a gentleman-in-waiting 
Allegre, a servant of Chabot 
A Courtier 

The Captain of the Guard 
Ofl&cers, Ushers, Guards, Peti- 
tioners, and Courtiers 

The Queen 

The Wife of Chabot 


The Tragedy of Chabot 
Admiral of France 


A Room in the Courf\ 

Enter Asall and Allegre 

As. Now Philip Chabot, Admiral of Fraace^ 
The great and only famous favourite 
To Francis, first of that imperial name. 
Hath found a fresh competitor in glory 

(Duke Montmorency, Constable of France) 5 

Who drinks as deep as he of the stream royal. 
And may in little time convert the strengili 
To raise his spring, and blow the other's fall. 

AL The world would wish it so, that will not patiently 
Endure the due rise of a virtuous man. lO 

As. If he be virtuous, what is the reason 
That men affect him not ? Why is he lost 
To th' general opinion, and become 
Rather their hate than love ? 

A I. I wonder you 

Will question it ; ask a ground or reason 15 

Of men bred in this vile, degenerate age I 
The most men are not good, and it agrees not 
With impious natures to allow what's honest ; 
'Tis an offence enough to be exalted 

To regal favours ; great men are not safe 20 

In their own vice where good men by the hand 
Of kings are planted to survey their workings. 
What man was ever fix'd i' th' sphere of honour. 
And precious to his sovereign, whose actions. 
Nay, very soul, was not expos'd to every 25 

Common and base dissection ? And not only 
That which in Nature hath excuse, and in 
Themselves is privileged by name of friailty, 



But even virtues are made crimes, and doom'd 
To th' fate of treason. 

As. A bad age the while I 30 

I ask your pardon, sir, but thinks your judgment 
His love to justice and corruption's hate 
Are true and hearty ? 

Al, Judge yourself, by this 

One argument, his hearty truth to all ; 

For in the heart hath anger his wisest seat, 35 

And gainst unjust suits such brave anger fires him 
That when they seek to pass his place and power, 
(Though mov'd and urg'd by the other minion. 
Or by his greatest friends, and even the King 
Lead them to his allowance with his hand, 40 

First given in bill assign'd) even then his spirit. 
In nature calm as any summer's evening. 
Puts up his whole powers like a winter's sea, 
His blood boils over, and his heart even cracks 
At the injustice, and he tears the biU, 45 

And would do, were he for't to be torn in pieces. 

As. 'Tis brave, I swear t 

Al. Nay, it is worth your wonder. 

That I must tell you further, there's no needle 
In a sun-dial, plac'd upon his steel 

In such a tender posture that doth tremble, 50 

The timely dial being held amiss. 
And will shake ever till you hold it right, 
More tender than himself in anything 
That he concludes in justice for the state : 
For, as a fever held him, he will shake 55 

When he is signing any things of weight. 
Lest human frailty should misguide his justice. 

As. You have declar'd him a most noble justicer. 

Al. He truly weighs and feels, sir, what a charge 
The subjects' Uvings are (being even their lives 60 

Laid on the hand of power), which abus'd. 
Though seen blood flow not from the justice-seat, 
'Tis in true sense as grievous and horrid. 

As. It argues nothing less ; but since your lord 
Is diversely reported for his parts, 65 

What's your true censure of his general worth, 
Virtue, and judgment ? 

AL As of a picture wrought to optic reason. 


That to all passers-by seems, as they move. 

Now woman, now a monster, now a devil, 70 

And till you stand and in a ri^t line view it. 

You cannot well judge what the main form is : 

So men, that view him but in vulgar passes. 

Casting but lateral or partial glances 

At what he is, suppose him weak, unjust, 75 

Bloody, and monstrous ; but stand free and fast 

And judge him by no more than what you know 

Ingenuously and by the right laid line 

Of truth, he truly will aU styles deserve 

Of wise, just, good ; a man, both soul and nerve. 80 

As. Sir, I must join in just belief with you ; 
But what's his rival, the Lord High Constable ? 

AL As just, and well inclin'd, when he's himself 
(Not wrought on with the counsels and opinions 
Of other men), and the main difference is, 85 

The Admiral is not flexible, nor won 
To move one scruple, when he comprehends 
The honest tract and justness of a cause : 
The Constable explores not so sincerely 

The course he runs, but takes the mind of others 90 

(By name judicial), for what his own 
Judgment and knowledge should conclude. 

As. A fault, 

In my apprehension : another's knowledge 
Applied to my instruction cannot equal 

My own soul's knowledge how to inform acts ; 95 

The sun's rich radiance, shot through waves most fair. 
Is but a shadow to his beams i' th' air ; 
His beams, that in the air we so admire. 
Is but a darkness to his flame in Are ; 

In fire his fervour but as vapour flies, 100 

To what his own pure bosom rarefies : 
And the Almighty Wisdom, having given 
Each man within himself an apter light 
To guide his acts than any light without him 
(Creating nothing not in all things equal) 105 

It seems a fault in any that depend 
On others' knowledge, and exile their own. 

Al. 'Tis nobly argued and exemplified ; 
But now I hear my lord and his young rival 
Are to be reooncil'd, and then one light zxo 


May serve to guide them both. 

As, I wish it may, the King being made first mover 
To form their reconcilement and inflame it 
With all the sweetness of his praise and honour. 

A I. See, 'tis dispatched, I hope ; the King doth grace it. 115 

Loud Music, and enter Ushers before the Secretary, Treasurer, 
Chancellor ; Admiral, Constable, hand in hand ; the 
King following, others attend. 

King, This doth express the noblest fruit of peace. 

Chan, Which, when the great begin, the humble end 
In jo3rful imitation, all combining 
A Gordian beyond the Phrygian loiot. 
Past wit to loose it, or the sword ; be still so. 120 

Treas, Tis certain, sir, by concord least things grow 7/ 
Most great and flourishing hke trees, that wrap 
Their forehead in the skies ; may these do so I 

King You hear, my lord, all that is spoke contends 
To celebrate with pious vote the atonement 125 

So lately and so nobly made between you. 

Chah. Which for itself sir, [I] resolve to keep 
Pure and inviolable, needing none 
To encourage or confirm it but my own 
Love and allegiance to your sacred counsel. 130 

King, 'Tis good, and pleases, like my dearest health ; 
Stand you firm on that sweet simplicity ? [To the Constable] 

Mont, Past all earth policy that would infringe itt 

King, Tis well, and answers all the doubts suspected. — 

Enter one that whispers with the Admiral 

And what moves this close message, Philip ? 

:Chab. My wife's 135 

Father, sir, is closely come to court. 

King, Is he come to the court, whose aversation 
So much aflects him that he shuns and flies it ? 
What's the strange reason that he wiU not rise 
Above the middle region he was bom in ? 140 

Chab, He saith, sir, 'tis because the extreme of height 
Makes a man less seem to the imperfect eye 
Than he is truly, his acts envied more ; 
And though he nothing cares for seeming, so 
Uis being just stand firm 'twixt heaven and him* 4J 


Yet since in his soul's jealousy he fears 

That he himself advanced would under-value 

Men plac'd beneath him and their business with him, 

Since height of place oft dazzles height of judgment, 

He takes his top-sail down in such rough storms, 150 

And apts his sails to airs more temperate. 

King. A most wise soul he has. How long shall kings 
Raise men that are not wise till they be high ? 
You have our leave ; but tell him, Philip, we 
Would have him nearer. 

Mont, Your desires attend yout 155 

[Exit Chabot] 

Enter another 

King. We know from whence you come ; say to the 
We were coming to her. 'Tis a day of love. 
And she seals all perfection. 

Exit [the King with Attendants] 

Treas. My lord. 

We must beseech your stay. 

Mont. My stay ? 

Chan. Our counsels 

Have led you thus far to your reconcilement, 160 

And must remember you to observe the end 
At which, in plain, I told you then we aim'd at: 
You know we all urg'd the atonement, rather 
To enforce the broader difference between you 
Than to conclude your friendship ; which wise men 165 

Know to be fashionable and privileged policy. 
And will succeed betwixt you and the Admiral, 
As siure as fate, if you please to get sign'd 
A suit now to the King with all our hands. 
Which will so much increase his precise justice 170 

That, weighing not circumstances of politic state. 
He will instantly oppose it and complain 
And urge in passion what the King will sooner 
Punish than yield to ; and so render you. 
In the King's frown on him, the only darling 175 

And mediate power of France. 

Mont. My good Lord Chancellor, 

Shall I, so late aton'd, and by the King's 
Hearty and earnest motion, fall in pieces ? 


Chan. 'Tis he, not you, that break. 
Treas. Ha' not you patience 

To let him bum himself in the King's flame ? i8o 

Chan, Come, be not, sir, infected with a spice 
Of that too servile equity, that renders 
Men free-bom slaves and rid with bits like horses. 
When you must know, my lord, that even in nature 
A man is animal politicum ; 185 

So that when he informs his actions simply. 
He does i[t] both gainst poUcy and natiure : 
And therefore our soul motion is affirm'd 
To be, like heavenly natures', circular ; 

And circles being call'd ambitious lines, 190 

We must, like them, become ambitious ever. 
And endless in our circumventions ; 
No tough hides limiting our cheverel minds. 

Treas. 'Tis learnedly, and past all answer, argued ; 
Y'are great, and must grow greater still, and greater^ 195 

And not be like a dull and standing lake, 
That settles, putrefies, and chokes with mud ; 
But, like a river gushing from the head. 
That winds through the under-vales, what checks overflowing. 
Gets strength still of his course, 200 

Till, with the ocean meeting, even with him 
In sway and title his brave billows move. 

Mont, You speak a rare affection and high souls ; 
But give me leave, great lords, still my just thanks 
Remember'd to your counsels and direction, 205 

I[n] seeking this way to confirm myself 
I undermine the columns that support 
My hopeful, glorious fortune, and at once 
Provoke the tempest, though did drown my envy. 
With what assurance shall the King expect 210 

My faith to him that break it for another ? 
He has engag'd our peace, and my revenge 
Forfeits my trust with him, whose narrow sight 
Will penetrate through all our mists, could we 
Veil our design with clouds blacker than night; 215 

But grant this danger over, with what justice. 
Or satisfaction to the inward judge. 
Shall I be guilty of this good man's ruin ? 
Though I may still the murmuring tongues without me. 
Loud conscience has a voice to sh[u]dder greatness. 320 


Sec. A name to fright, and terrify yoang statists. 
There is necessity, my lord, that you 
Must lose your light, if 3rou eclipse not him ; 
Two stars so lucid cannot shine at once 
In such a firmament, and better you 225 

Extinguish his fires than be made his fuel. 
And in 3rour ashes give his flame a trophy. 

Chan. My lord, the league that you have vow'd of friendship. 
In a true understanding not confines you. 
But makes 3rou boundless ; turn not edge at such 230 

A liberty, but look to your own fortune ; 
Secure 3rour honour : a precisian 
In state is a ridiculous miracle ; 
Friendship is but a visor, beneath which 
A wise man laughs to see whole families 235 

Ruin'd, upon whose miserable pile 
He mounte to glory. Sir, you must resolve 
To use any advantage. 

Mont. Misery 

Of rising statesmen ! I must on ; I see 

That gainst the politic and privileg'd fashion, 240 

All justice tastes but afiectation. 

Chan. Why so ! We shall do good on him i' th' end. 


Another Room in the Courf] 

Enter Father and the Admiral 

Chab. You are most welcome. 

Fath. I wish your lordship's safety : 

Which whilst I pray for, I must not forget 
To urge again the ways to fix you where 
No danger has access to threaten you. 

Chab. Still your old argument ; I owe your love for't. 5 

Fath. But, fortified with new and pregnant reasons* 
That you should leave the court. 

Chab. I dare not, sir. 

Fath. You dare be undone, then. 

Chab. 1 should be ingrateful 

To such a master, as no subject boasted. 


To leave his service[s] when they exact lo 

My chiefest duty and attendance, sir. 

Fath. Would thou wert less, degraded from thy titles 
And swelling offices that will, i' th' end. 
Engulf thee past a rescue ! I had not come 
So far to trouble you at this time, but that 15 

I do not like the loud tongues o' the world, 
That say the King has ta'en another favourite, 
The Constable, a gay man, and a great. 
With a huge train of faction too ; the Queen, 
Chancellor, Treasurer, . Secretary, and 20 

An army of state warriors, whose discipline 
Is sure, and subtle to confusion. 
I hope the rumour's false, thou art so calm. 

Chab. Report has not abus'd you, sir. 

Fath, It has not ! 

And you are pleas'd ? Then you do mean to mix 25 

With unjust courses, the great Constable 
And you combining that no suit may pass 
One of the grapples of your cither's rape. 
I that abhorr'd, must I now entertain 

A thought that your so straight and simple custom 30 

To render justice and the common good. 
Should now be patch'd with policy, and wrested 
From the ingenuous step you took, and hang 
Upon the shoulders of your enemy. 
To bear you out in what you shame to act ? • 35 

Chab. Sir, we both are reconciled. 

Fath. It follows, then, that both the acts must bear 
Like reconcilement ; and if he will now 
Malign and malice you for crossing him 

Or any of his faction in their suits, 40 

Being now aton'd, you must be one in all, 
One in corruption ; and 'twixt you two millstones, 
New pick'd, and put together, must the grain 
Of good men's needful means to live be ground 
Into your choking superfluities ; 45 

You both too rich, they ruin'd. 

Chab. I conceive, sir, 

We both may be enrich'd, and raise our fortunes 
Even with our places in our Sovereign's favour, 
Though past the height of others, yet within 
The rules of law and justice, and approve 50 


Our actions white and innocent. 

Fath, I donbt it ; 

Whi[t]e in forc'd show, perhaps, which will, I fear. 
Prove in true substance but a nuller's whiteness. 
More sticking in your clothes than conscience. 

ClMb. Your censure herein tastes some passion, sir ; 55 

And I beseech you nourish better thoughts 
Than to imagine that the King's mere grace 
Sustains such prejudice by those it honours, 
That of necessity we must pervert it 

With passionate enemies, and ambitio[n]s boundless, 60 

Avarice, and every licence incident 
To fortunate greatness, and that all abuse it 
For the most impious avarice of some. 

Faih, As if the total sum of favourites' frailties 
Afiected not the full rule of their kings 65 

In their own partially dispos'd ambitions, 
And that kings do no hazard infinitely 
In their free realities of rights and honours. 
Where they leave much for ^vourites' powers to order. 

Chab, But we have such a master of our King, 70 

In the imperial art, that no power flies 
Out of his favour, but his policy ties 
A criance to it, to contain it still ; 
And for the reconcilement of us, sir. 

Never were two in favour that were more 75 

One in all love of justice and true honour. 
Though in the act and prosecution 
Perhaps we differ. Howsoever yet. 
One beam us both creating, what should let 
That both our souls should both one mettie bear, 80 

And that one stamp, one word, one character ? 

Faih, I could almost be won to be a courtier ; 
There's something more in's composition 
Than ever yet was favourite's. — 

Enter a Courtier 

What's he ? 
Court. I bring your lordship a sign'd bill, to have 85 

The addition of your honour'd hand ; the Council 
Have all before subscrib'd, and full prepar'd it. 

Chab, It seems then tiiey have weigh'd the importance 
of it, 
And know the grant is just. 


Court, No doubt, my lord ; 

Or else they take tibierein tiie Constable's word, 90 

It being his suit, and his power having wrought 
The King already to appose his hand. 

Chab, I do not like his working of the King, 
For, if it be a suit made known to him 
And fit to pass, he wrought himself to it ; 95 

However, my hand goes to no such grant. 
But first I'll know, and censure it myself. 

Court, {aside]. [At6,] if th.ou beest goddess of contention. 
That Jove took by tlie hair and hurl'd from heaven. 
Assume in earth thy empire, and this bill . 100 

Thy firebrand make^rto turn his love, thus tempted. 
Into a hate as horrid as thy furies. 

Chdb, Does this bear title of his lordship's suit ? 

Court. It does, my lord, and therefore he beseech'd 
The rather 3rour dispatch. 105 

Chab. No thought the rather ! 

But now the rather all powers against it. 
The suit being most unjust, and he pretending 
In all his actions justice, on the sudden 
After his so late vow not to violate it. 

Is strange and vile ; and if the King himself 1 10 

Should own and urge it, I would stay and cross it ; 
For 'tis within the free power of my office. 
And I should strain his kingdom if I pass'd it. 
I see their poor attempts and giddy malice ; 
Is this the reconcilement that so lately 115 

He vow'd in sacred witness of the King P 
Assuring me he never more would offer 
To pass a suit unjust, which I well know 
This is above all, and have often been urg'd 
To give it passage. — Be you, sir, the judge. 120 

Faih. I wo' not meddle 
With anything of state, you knew long since. 

Chab. Yet 3rou may hear it, sir. 

Fath. You wo' not urge 

My opinion, then P Go to 1 

Chab, An honest merchant, 

Presuming on our league of France with Spain, 125 

Brought into Spain a wealthy ship to vent 
Her fit commodities to serve the country. 
Which, in the place of suffering their sale. 


Were seic'd to lecompeose a Spaniah ship 

Priz'd by a Frenchman ere the league was made. 130 

No snitB, no letters of our King's could gain 

Our merchant's first right in it ; but his letters 

Unreverently receiv'd, the King's self scandal, 

Beside tiie league's breach and the iovl injustice 

Done to our honest merchant, who endur'd all, 135 

Till some small time since, (authoriz'd by our Council, 

Though not in open court,) he made a s^p out. 

And took a Spaniard ; brings all home, and sues 

To gain his full prov'd loss, full recompense 

Of his just prize : his prize is stay'd and seiz'd 140 

Yet for the King's disposure ; and the Spaniard 

Makes suit to be restored her, which this bill 

Would fain get granted, feigning, as they hop'd. 

With my allowance, and way given to make 

Our countryman's in Spain their absolute prize« 145 

Fath. 'Twere absolute injustice. 

Chab. Should I pass it ? 

Faih. Pass life and state before f 

ChtU). If this would seem 

His lordship's suit, his love to me and justice 
Including plots upon me, while my simpleness 
Is seriously vow'd to reconcilement, 150 

Love him, good vulgars, and abhor me still; 
For if I court your flattery with my crimes. 
Heaven's love before me fly, till in my tomb 
I stick, pursuing it ; and for this bill. 
Thus, say, 'twas shiver'd ; bless us, equal Heaven ! Etnt 155 

Fath. This could I cherish now, above his loss. — 
You may report as much, the bill discharg'd, sir. E^immt 



A Room in the Court] 

Enter King and Queen, Secretary with the torn bill 

King, Is it e'en so ? 

Qtteen. Good heaven, how tame you are I 

Do Kings of Ftance reward foul traitors thus ? 

King. No traitor, y'are too loud, Chabot's no traitor ; 


He has the passions of a man abont him» 

And multiplicity of cares may make 5 

Wise men forget themselves. Come, be yon patient. 

Queen, Can yon be so, and see yourself thus torn ? 

King. Ourself ? 

Queen, [Showing the torn billJ] There is some left, if 3roa 
dare own 
Yoiu: royal character ; is not this your name ? 

King. 'Tis Frauds, I confess. 

Queen, Be but a name, to 

If this stain live upon't, affronted by 
Your subject. Shall the sacred name of King, 
A word to make your nation bow and tremble. 
Be thus profan'd ? Are laws establish'd 
To punish the defacers of your ims^ge 15 

But dully set by the rude hand of others 
Upon 3rour coin, and shall the character 
That doth include the blessing of all France, 
Your name, thus written by your royal hand, 
Design'd for justice and your kingdom's honour, 20 

Not call up equal anger to reward it ? 
Your Counsellors of state contemn'd and slighted. 
As in piis] brain [were] circumscribed all wisdom 
And policy of empire, and your power 
Subordinate and subject to his passion. 25 

King. Come, it concerns you not. 

Queen. Is this the consequence 

Of an atonement made so lately between 
The hopeful Montmobency and his lordship, 
Urge[d] by yourself with such a precious sanction ? 
Come, he that dares do this, wants not a heart, 30 

But opportunity — 

King. To do what ? 

Queen. To tear 

Your crown off. 

King. Come, your language doth taste more 

Of rage and womanish flame, than solid reason. 
Against the Admiral. What commands of yours. 
Not to your expectation obey'd 35 

By him, is ground of your so keen displeasure ? 

Queen. Commands of mine ? He is too great and powerful 
To stoop to my emplo3mient, a Colossus, 
And can stride from one province to another 


By the assistance of tliose offices 40 

You have most confidently impos'd upon him, 
'Tis he, not you, take up the people's eyes 
And admiration, while his princely wife — 

King. Nay, then I reach the spring of your distaste ; 
He has a 

Enter Chancellor, Treasurer, and whisper with the King 

Queen. [Aside] Whom for her pride I love not; 45 

And I but in her husband's ruin can 
Triumph o'er her greatness. 

King. [To Chancellor] WeU, well ; I'll think on't. E^t 

Chan. He begins to incline. 

Madam, you are the soul of our great work. 

Queen. I'U follow, and employ my powers upon him. 50 

Treas. We are confident you will prevail at last. 
And for the pious work oblige the King to you. 

Chan. And us 3rour humblest creatures. 

Queen. Press no further. E»it Queen 

Chan. Lef 8 seek out my lord Constable. 

Treas. And inflame him — 

Chan. To expostulate with Chabot ; something may 55 
Arise from thence, to pull more weight upon him. 


• Another Room in the Courf] 

Enter Father and Allegro 

Path. How sorts the business ? How took the King 
The tearing of his bill ? 

A I. Exceeding well« 

And seem'd to smile at all their grim complaints 
Gainst aU that outrage to his Highness' hand. 
And said, in plain, he sign'd it but to try 5 

My lord's firm justice. 

Path. What a sweet king 'tis ! 

A I. But how his rival, the Lord Constable, 
Is labour'd by the Chancellor and others to retort 
His wrong with ten parts more upon my lord. 
Is monstrous. 10 


Fath. Need he their spurs ? 

AL Ay, sir* for he's afraid 

To bear himfielf too boldly in his braves 
Upon the King, being newly enter'd minion, 
(Since 'tb but patience sometime [he] think[s] 
Because, the favour spending in two streams, i$ 

One must run low at length) till when he dare 
Take fire in such flame as his faction wishes ; 
But with wise fear contains himself, and so. 
Like a green faggot in his kindling, smokes ; 
And where the Chancellor, his chief Cyclops, finds 20 

The fire within him apt to take, he blows. 
And then the faggot flames as never more 
The bellows needed, till the too soft greenness 
Of his state halnt shows his sap stiU flows 
Above the solid timber, with which, then, 25 

His blaze shrinks head, he cools, and smokes again. 

Faih. Good man he would be, would the bad not spoil him. 

AL True, sir ; but they still ply him with their arts ; 
And, as I heard, have wrought him, personally 
To question my lord with all the bitterness 30 

The galls of all their faction can pour in ; 
And such an expectation hangs upon't, 
Th[r]ough all the Court, as 'twere with child and long'd 
To make a mirror of my lord's clear blood, 
And therein see the full ebb of his flood; 35 

And therefore, if you please to counsel him, 
You shall perform a father's part. 

Faih. Nay, since 

He's gone so far, I would not have him fear. 
But dare 'em ; and yet I'll not meddle in't. 

Enter Admiral 

He's here ; if he have wit to like his cause, 40 

His spirit wo' not be asham'd to die in't. Exit 

A I. My lord, retire ; y'are waylaid in your walks ; 
Your friends are all fallen from you ; all your servants, 
Subom'd by all advantage to report 

Each word you whisper out, and to serve you 45 

With hat and knee, while others have their hearts. 

Chab. Much profit may my foes make of such servants 1 
I love no enemy I have so well. 
To take so ill a bargain from his hands. 


AL Their other odds yet shun, all being combin'd, 50 

And lodg'd in ambush, arriv'd to do you mischief 
By any means, past fear of law or sovereign. 

Chab. I walk no desert, yet go arm'd with that 
That would give wildest beasts instincts to rescue 
Rather than offer any force to hurt me — 55 

My innocence, which is a conquering justice 
A[nd] wears a shield that both defends and fights. 

AL One against all the world ! 

Chab, The more the odds. 

The less the conquest ; or, if all the world 
Be thought an army fit to employ gainst one, 60 

That one is argued fit to fight gainst all : 
If I fall under them, this breast shaU bear 
Their heap digested in my sepulchre. 
Death is the life of good men : let 'em come. 

Enter Constable, Chancellor, Treasurer, and Secretary 

Moni, I thought, my lord, our reconcilement perfect. 65 
You have expressed what sea of gall flow'd in you. 
In tearing of the bill I sent to allow. 

Chab, Dare you confess the sending of that bill ? 

Mont, Dare ? Why not ? 

Chab, Because it brake your oath 

Made in our reconcilement, and betrays 70 

The honour and the chief life of the King, 
Which is his justice. 

Mont. Betrays ? 

Chab. No less, and that I'll prove to him. 

Omnes. You cannot) 

Treas. I would not wish you offer at an action 75 

So most impossibly, and much against 
The judgment and the favour of the King. 

CAa6. His judgment nor his favour I respect, 
So I preserve his justice. 

Chan. 'Tis not justice, 

Which I'll prove by law, and absolute learning. 80 

Chab. All your great law and learning are but words, 
When I plead plainly naked truth and deeds. 
Which, though you seek to fray with state and glory, 
I'll shoot a shaft at all your globe of light ; 
If lightning spht it, yet 'twas high and right. Exit 85 

CD.W, u 


Mont, Brave resolution ! So his acts be just. 
He cares for gain no[r] honour. 

Chan. How came he then 

By all his infinite honour and his gain ? 

Treas, Well said, my lord ! 

Sec, Answer but only that. 

Mont. By doing justice still in all his actions. 90 

Sec, But if this action prove unjust, will you 
Say aU his other may be so as well, 
And think your own course fitter far than his ? 

Mont. I will. Exit 

Chan. He cools, we must not leave him ; we have no 95 

Such engine to remove the Admiral. Exeunt 


Another Room in the Court] 
Enter King and the Admiral 

King. I prithee, Philip, be not so severe 
To him I favour ; 'tis an argument 
That may serve one day to avail yourself, 
Nor does it square ¥dth your so gentle nature. 
To give such fires of envy to your blood ; 5 

For howsoever out of love to justice 
Your jealousy of that doth so incense you. 
Yet they that censure it wiU say 'tis envy. 

Chab. I serve not you for them but for yourself. 
And that good in your rule that justice does you ; 10 

And care not this what others say, so you 
Please but to do me right for what you know. 

King. You will not do yourself right. Why should I 
Exceed you to yourself ? 

Chab. M3^5elf am nothing, 

Compar'd to what I seek; 'tis justice only, 15 

The fount and flood both of your strength and kingdom's. 

King. But who knows not that extreme justice is 
(By all rul'd laws) the extreme of injury. 
And must to you be so ; the persons that 
Your passionate heat calls into question 20 

Are great and many, and may wrong in you 
Your rights of kind, and dignities of fortune ; 


And I advanc'd you not to heap on you 

Honours and fortunes, that, by strong hand now 

Held up and over you, when heaven takes off 25 

That powerful hand, should thunder on your head. 

And after you crush your surviving seeds. 

C?uib» Sir, your regards to both are great and sacred ; 
But, if the innocence and right that rais'd me 
And means for mine, can find no friend hereafter 30 

Of Him that ever Uves, and ever seconds 
AH kings' just bounties with defence and refuge 
In just men's races, let my fabric ruin. 
My stock want sap, my branches by the root 
Be torn to death, and swept with whirlwinds out. 35 

King, For my love no relenting ? 

Chab. No, my Liege. 

'Tis for your love and right that I stand out. 

King, Be better yet advis'd. 

Chab, • I cannot, sir. 

Should any oracle become my counsel; 

For that I stand not out thus of set will 40 

Or pride of any singular conceit. 
My enemies and the world may clearly know ; 
I taste no sweets to drown in others' gall. 
And to affect in that which makes me loathed, 
To leave myself and mine expos'd to all 45 

The dangers you propos'd, my purchas'd honours 
And all my fortunes in an- instant lost, 
That m[a]ny cares, and pains, and years have gather'd 
How mad were I to rave thus in my wounds. 
Unless my known health, felt in these forc'd issues, 50 

Were sound and fit; and that I did not know 
By most true proofs that to become sincere 
With all men's hates doth far exceed their loves. 
To be, as they are, mixtures of corruption ; 
And that those envies that I see pursue me 55 

Of all true actions are the natural consequents 
Which being my object and my resolute choice. 
Not for my good but yours, I will have justice. 

King, You will have justice ? Is your wiU so strong 
Now against mine, your power being so weak, 60 

Before my favour gave them both their forces ? 
Of ail that ever shar'd in my free graces. 
You, Philip Chabot, a mean gentleman, 


Have not I rais'd you to a supremest lord, 
And given you greater dignities than any ? 65 

Chab, You have so. 

King. Well said ; and to spur your dulness 

With the particulars to which I rais'd you, 
Have not I made you first a knight of the Order, 
Then Admiral of Fta,nce, then Count Byzanges, 
Lord and lieutenant-General of all 70 

My country and command of Burgundy ; 
Lieutenant-General likewise of my son, 
Dauphin and heir, and of all Normandy ; 
And of my chiefly honour'd Privy Council 
And cannot all these powers weigh down your will ? 75 

Chab, No, sir ; they were not given me to that end. 
But to uphold my will, my will being just. 

King. And who shall judge that justice, you or I ? 

Chab. I, sir, in this case ; your roysl thoughts are fitly 
Exempt from every curious search of one, 80 

You have the general charge with care of all. 

King. And do not generals include particulars ? 
May not I judge of anything comprised 
In your particular, as well as you ? 

Chab. Far be the misery from you that you may ! 85 

My cares, pains, broken sleep, therein made more 
Than yours, should make me see more, and my forces 
Render of better judgment. 

King. Well, sir, grant 

Your force in this ; my odds in benefits. 
Paid for your pains, put in the other scale, 90 

And any equal holder of the balance 
Will show my merits hoist up yours to air. 
In rule of any doubt or deed betwixt us. 

Chab. You merit not of me for benefits. 
More than m3rself of you for services. 95 

King. Is't possible ? 

Chab. 'Tis true. 

King. Stand you on that ? 

Chab. Ay, to the death, and will approve to all men. 

King. I am deceived but I shall find good judges 
That will find difierence. 

Chab. Find them, being good. 

King. Still so ? What, if conferring IOQ 

My bounties and your services to sound them. 


We fall foul on some licences of yours ? 
Nay, give me therein some advantage of you. 

Chab. They cannot. 

King. Not in sifting their severe discharges 105 

Of all your offices ? 

Chab, The more you sift. 

The more you shall refine me. 

King. What if I 

Grant out against you a commission, 
Join'd with an extraordinary process 
To arrest and put you in law's hands for trial ? no 

Chab. Not with law's uttermost! 

King. I'll throw the dice. 

Chab. And I'll endure the chance, the dice being square, 
Repos'd in dreadless confidence and conscience. 
That all your most extremes shall never reach. 
Or to my life, my goods, or honour's breach. 115 

King. Was ever heard so fine a confidence ? 
Must it not prove presumption ? And can that 
'Scape bracks and errors in 3^ur search of law ? 
I prithee weigh yet with more soul the danger. 
And some less passion. 

Chab. Witness, heaven, I cannot, 120 

Were I dissolv'd, and nothing else but soul. 

King [aside]. Beshrew my blood, but his resolves amaze 
me. — 
Was ever such a justice in a subject 
Of so much office left to his own swinge 
That, left to law thus and his sovereign's wrath, 125 

Could stand clear, spite of both ? Let reason rule it, 
Before it come at law : a man so rare 
In one thing cannot in the rest be vulgar ; 
And who sees you not in the broad highway, 
The conmion dust up in your own eyes beating, 130 

In quest of riches, honours, offices, 
As heartily in show as most believe ? 
And he that can use actions with the vulgar. 
Must needs embrace the same effects, and cannot (inform 

Whatsoever he pretends, use them with such 135 

Free equity, as fits one just and real, 
Even in the eyes of men, nor stand at all parts 
So truly circular, so sound, and solid. 


But have his swellings-out, his cracks and crannies ; 

And therefore, in this, reason, before law 140 

Take you to her, lest you afEect and flatter 

Yourself with mad opinions. 

Chab. I were mad 

Directly, sir, if I were yet to know 
Not the sure danger, but the certain ruin 
Of men shot into law from kings' bent brow^ 145 

There being no dream from the most muddy brain 
Upon the foulest fancy, that can forge 
More horror in the shadows of mere fame, 
Than can some lawyer in a man expos'd 
To his interpretation by the king. 150 

But these grave t03rs I shall despise in death ; 
And while I hve, will lay 'diem open so 
(My innocence laid by them), that, like foils. 
They shall stick off my merits ten times more, 
And make your bounties nothing ; for who gives 155 

And hits i' th' teeth, himself pa3rs with the glory 
For which he gave, as being his end of giving. 
Not to crown merits or do any good, 
And so no thanks is due but to his glory. 

King, 'Tis brave, I swear I 

Chab. No, sir, 'tis plain and rude, 160 

But true and spotless ; and where you object 
My hearty and gross vulgar love of riches, 
Titles, and honours, I did never seek them 
For any love to them, but to that justice 
You ought to use in their due gift to merits, 165 

To show you royal, and most open-handed, 
Not using for hands, talons, pincers, grapples ; 
In whose gripes, and upon whose gor'd point. 
Deserts hang sprawling out their virtuous limbs. 

King, Better and better f 

Chab, This your glory is, 170 

My deserts wrought upon no wretched matter. 
But show'd your royal palms as free and moist 
As Ida, all enchas'd witii silver springs. 
And yet my merit still their equal sings. 

King. Sing till thou sigh thy soul out ; hence, and leave us I 175 

Chab, My person shall, my love and faith shall never. 

King. Perish thy love and faith, and thee for ever f 

[Exit Chabot] 


Who's there ? 

Enter Asall 

Let one go for the Chancellor. 
As. He's here in court, sir. 

King. Haste, and send him hither I 

[Exit AsaU] 
This is an insolence I never met with. 180 

Can one so high as his degrees ascend 
CUmb all so free and without stain P 

Enter Chancellor 

My Lord 
Chancellor, I send for you about a service 
Of equal price to me, as if again 

My ransom came to me from Pavian thraldom, 185 

And more, as if from forth a subject's fetters. 
The worst of servitudes, my life were rescued. 

Chan. You fright me with a prologue of much trouble. 

King, Methinks it might be. Tell me, out of all 
Your famous learning, was there ever subject 190 

Rais'd by his sovereign's free hand from the dust 
Up to a height above air's upper region, 
That might compare with him in any merit 
That so advanc'd him, and not show, in that 
Gross over-weening, worthy cause to think 195 

There might be other over-sights excepted. 
Of capital nature in his sifted greatness ? 

Chan. And past question, sir, for one absurd thing 
A thousand follow. 

King. You must then employ 

Your most exact and curious art to explore 200 

A man in place of greatest trust and charge, 
Whom I suspect to have abus'd them all. 
And in whom you may give such proud veins vent. 
As will bewray their boiling blood, corrupted 
Both gainst my crown and life. 205 

Chan. And may my life be curs'd in every act. 
If I explore him not to every fi[b]re. 

King. It is my Admiral. 

Chan. Oh, my good Liege, 

You tempt, not charge me, with such search of him. 


King. Doubt not my heartiest meaning : all the troubles 210 
That ever mov'd in a distracted king, 
Put in just fear of his assaulted Ufe, 
Are not above my sufferings for Chabot. 

Chan. Then I am glad and proud that I can cure you, 
For he's a man that I am studied in, 215 

And all his offices, and if you please 
To give authority — 

King. You shall not want it. 

Chan. If I discharge you not of that disease 
About your neck grown, by your strange trust in him. 
With full discovery of the foulest treasons — 220 

King. But I must have all prov'd with that free justice. 

Chan. Beseech your majesty, do not question it. 

King. About it instantly, and take me wholly 
Upon yourself. 

Chan, How much you grace your servant I 

King. Let it be fiery quick. 

Chan. It shall have wings, 225 

And every feather show the flight of kings. 




A Gallery] 

Enter Chancellor attended, the Proctor-General whispering in 
his ear, two Judges following ; they past, enter Chabot, in 
his gown, a guard about him, his Father and his Wife on 
each side, Allegre [guarded] 

Chab. And have they put my faithful servant to the rack ? 
Heaven arm the honest man ! 

Path. Allegre feels the mahce of the Chancellor. 

Chab. Many upon the torture have confessed 
Things against truth, and yet his pain sits nearer 5 

Than all my other fears. [To his Wife] Come, don't weep. 

Wife. My lord, I do not grieve out of a thought 
Or poor suspicion, they with all their malice 
Can stain your honour ; but it troubles me 


The King should grant this hcence to your enemies, 10 

As he were willing to hear Chabot guilty. 

Chab. No more ; the King is just ; and by exposing 
Me to this trial, means to render me 
More happy to his subjects and himself. 

His sacred will be obey'd ; take thy own spirit, 15 

And let no thought infringe thy peace for me ; 
I go to have my honours all confirm 'd. 
Farewell ; thy Up [kisses her] : my cause has so much inno- 
It sha' not need thy prayer. [To Father] I leave her yours 
Till my return. Oh, let me be a son 20 

Still in your thoughts. Now, gentlemen, set forward. 

Exit [Chabot with Guards] Manente Father and Wife 

Faih. See, you that trust in greatness, what sustains you ; 
These hazards you must look for, you that thrust 
Your heads into a cloud, where He in ambush 
The soldiers of state, in privy arms 25 

Of yellow fire, jealous, and mad at aU 
That shoot their foreheads up into their forges, 
And pry into their gloomy cabinets ; 
You, like vain citizens, that must go see 

Those ever-burning furnaces wherein 30 

Your brittle glasses of estate are blown, 
Who knows not you are all but pufi and bubble. 
Of breath and fume forg'd, your vile brittle natures 
Cause of your deamess ? Were you tough and lasting, 
You would be cheap, and not worth half your face. 35 

Now, daughter ; planet-struck ? 

Wife, 1 am considering 

What form I shall put on, as best agreeing 
With my lord's fortune. 

Fath. Habit do you mean. 

Of mind, or body ? 

Wife. Both would be apparell'd. 40 

Fath. In neither you have reason yet to mourn. 

Wife, I'll not accuse my heart of so much weakness ; 
Twere a confession gainst my lord. The Queen I 

Enter Queen, Constable, Treasurer, and Secretary 

She has expressed gainst me some displeasure. 

Faih. Let's this way through the gallery. [They retire} 


Queen. 'Tis she. 

Do 3^u, my lord, say I would speak with her. 45 

[To the Treasurer] And has Allegre, one of chiefest trust 

with him, 
Sufier'd the rack ? The Chancellor is violent : 
And what's confessed ? 

Treas. Nothing ; he contemn'd all 
That could with any cruellest pain explore him, 
As if his mind had robb'd his nerves of sense, 50 

And through them diffus'd fiery spirits above 
All flesh and blood ; for, as his limbs were stretch'd. 
His contempts too extended. 

Queen. A strange fortitude ! 

Tfe<K. But we shall lose th' arraignment. 

Queen. The success 

Will soon arrive. 

Treas. You'll not appear, my lord, then ? 55 

Mont. I desire your lordship would excuse me. 

Treas. We are your servants. 

Exeunt Treasurer and Secretary 

Mont. She attends you, madam. 

[Approaching with Wife who kneels'] 

Queen. This humbleness proceeds not from your heart. 
Why, you are a queen yourself in your own thoughts. 
The Admiral's wife of France cannot be less ; 60 

You have not state enough ; you should not move 
Without a train of friends and servants. 

Wife. There is some mystery 

Within your language, madam. I would hope 
You have more charity than to imagine 

My present condition worth your triumph, 65 

In which I am not so lost, but I have 
Some friends and servants with proportion' 
To my lord's fortune ; but none, within the list 
Of those that obey me, can be more ready 
To express their duties than my heart to serve 70 

Your just commands. 

Queen. Then pride will ebb, I see ; 

There is no constant flood of state and greatness ; 
The prodigy is ceasing when your lord 
Comes to the balance ; he whose blazing fires 
Shot wonders through the kingdom, will discover 75 

What flying and corrupted matter fed him« 


Wife. My lord ? 

Queen, Your high and mighty justicer, 

The man of conscience, the oracle 
Of state, whose honourable titles 

Would crack an elephant's back, is now tum'd mortal, 80 
Must pass examination and the test 
Of law, have all his offices ripp'd up. 
And his corrupt soul laid open to the subjects : 
His bribes, oppressions, and close sins, that made 
So many groan and curse him, now shall find 85 

Their just reward, and all that love their country. 
Bless heaven and the King's justice, for removing 
Such a devouring monster. 

Faih, [To Montmorency, coming forward] Sir, your pardon. 
Madam, you are the Queen, she is my daughter. 
And he that you have character'd so monstrous, 90 

My son-in-law, now gone to be arraign'd. 
The King is just, and a good man ; but't does not 
Add to the graces of your royal person 
To tread upon a lady thus dejected 

By her own grief. Her lord's not yet found guilty, 95 

Much less condemn'd, though you have pleas 'd to execute him. 

Queen, What saucy fellow's this ? 

Fath. I must confess 

I am a man out of this element. 
No courtier ; yet I am a gentleman 

That dare speak honest truth to the Queen's ear 100 

(A duty every subject wo' not pay you). 
And justify it to all the world. There's nothing 
Doth more eclipse the honours of our soul 
Than an ill-grounded and ill-followed passion. 
Let fly with noise and licence against those 105 

Whose hearts before are bleeding. 

Mont, Brave old man ! 

Fath, Cause you are a queen, to trample o'er a woman 
Whose tongue and faculties are all tied up t 
Strike out a lion's teeth and pare his claws. 
And then a dwarf may pluck him by the beard. no 

'Tis a gay victory ! 

Queen, [To Montmorency] Did you hear, my lord ? 

Fath, I ha' done. 

Wife [rising] And it concerns me to begin. 

I have not made this pause through servile fear 


Or guilty apprehension of your rage, 

But with just wonder of the heats and wildness 115 

Has prepossessed your nature gainst our innocence. 

You are my Queen ; unto that title bows 

The humblest knee in France, my heart made lower 

With my obedience and prostrate duty ; 

Nor have I powers created for my use, 120 

When just commands of you expect their service ; 

But were you Queen of all the world, or something 

To be thought greater, betwixt heaven and us. 

That I could reach you with my eyes and voice, 

I would shoot both up in defence of my 125 

Abused honour, and stand all your lightning. 

Queen, So brave ! 

Wife. So just, and boldly innocent, 

I cannot fear, arm'd with a noble conscience. 
The tempest of your frown, were it more frightful 
Than ever fury made a woman's anger, 130 

Prepared to kill with death's most horrid ceremony ; 
Yet with what freedom of my soul I can 
Forgive your accusation of my pride I 

Queen. * Forgive ' ? What insolence is like this language ? 
Can any action of ours be capable 135 

Of thy forgiveness ? Dust, how I despise thee ! 
Can we sin to be object of thy mercy ? 

Wife. Yes, and have done't already, and no stain 
To your greatness, madam ; 'tis my charity, 
I can remit. When sovereign princes dare 140 

Do injury to those that live beneath them. 
They turn worth pity and their pray'rs, and 'tis 
In tiie free power of those whom they oppress 
To pardon 'em ; each soul has a prerogative, 
And privilege royal, that was sign'd by Heaven. 145 

But, though i' th' knowledge of my disposition. 
Stranger to pride, and what you charge me with, 
I can forgive the injustice done to me. 
And striking at my person, I have no 

Conunission from my lord to clear you for 150 

The wrongs you have done him; and till he pardon 
The wounding of his loyalty, with which life 
Can hold no balance, I must take just boldness 
To say — 

Fath. No more. Now I must tell you, daughter. 


Lest you forget yourself, she is the Queen; 155 

And it becomes not you to vie with her 

Passion for passion : if your lord stand fast 

To the full search of law, Heaven will revenge him. 

And give him up precious to good men's loves. 

If you attempt by these unruly ways 160 

To vindicate his justice, I'm against you. 

Dear as I wish your husband's life and fame : 

[Subjects] are bound to suffer, not contest 

With princes, since their will and acts must be 

Accounted one day to a Judge supreme. 165 

Wife. I ha' done. If the devotion to my lord. 

Or piety to his innocence, have led me 

Beyond the awful Umits to be observ'd 

By one so much beneath your sacred person, 

I thus low crave your royal pardon, madam. [Kneeling] 

I know you will remember in your goodness, 170 

My life-blood is concem'd while his least vein 

Shall run black and polluted, my heart fed 

With what keeps him alive, nor can there be 

A greater wound than that which strikes the life 175 

^ Of our good name, so much above the bleeding 

Of this rude pile we carry, as the sotd 

Hath excellence above this earth-bom frailty. 

My lord, by the King's will, is led already 

To a severe arraignment, and to judges 180 

Will make no tender search into his tract 

Of life and state. Stay but a little while. 

And France shall echo to his shame or innocence. 

This suit I beg with tears ; I shall have sorrow 

Enough to hear him censur'd foul and monstrous, 185 

Should you forbear to antedate my sufferings. 

Queen, Your conscience comes about, and you incline 

To fear he may be worth the law's condemning. 
Wife, I sooner will suspect the stars may lose 

Their way, and crystal heaven return to chaos ; 190 

Truth sits not on her square more firm than he : 

Yet, let me tell you, madam, were his life 

And action so foul as you have character'd 

And the bad world expects, though as a wife 

'Twere duty I should weep myself to death I95 

To know him fall'n from virtue, yet so much 

I, a trail woman, love my King and Country* 


I should condemn him too, and think all honours. 

The price of his lost faith, more fatal to me 

Than Cleopatra's asps warm in my bosom, 200 

And as much boast their killing. 

Queen [aside]. This declares 

Another soul than was deliver'd me. 
My anger melts, and I begin to pity her. 
How much a prince's ear may be abus'd ! — 
Enjoy your happy confidence ; at more leisure 205 

You may hear from us. 

Wife. Heaven preserve the Queen, 

And may her heart be charitable I 

Fath. You bless and honour your unworthy servant. 

[Exit Wife and Father] 

Queen, My lord, did you observe this ? 

Mont. Yes, great madam. 

And read a noble spirit, which becomes 210 

The wife of Chabot ! Their great tie of marriage 
Is not more strong upon 'em than their virtues. 

Queen. That your opinion ? I thought your judgment 
Against the Admiral. Do you think him honest ? 

Mont. ReUgiously ; a true, most zealous patriot, 215 

And worth all royal favour. 

Queen. You amaze me. 

Can you be just yourself then, and advance 
Your powers against him ? 

Mont. Such a will be far 

From Montmorency. Pioneers of state 
Have left no art to gain me to their faction. 
And 'tis my misery to be plac'd in such 220 

A sphere, where I am whirl'd by violence 
Of a fierce raging motion, and not what 
My own will would incline me. I shall make 
This appear, madam, if you please to second 225 

My free speech with the King. 

Queen. Good heaven protect all ! 

Haste to the King ; Justice her swift wing needs ; 
Tis high time to be good when virtue bleeds. Exeunt 


A Court of Justice} 
Enter Officers before the Chancellor, Judges, the Proctor-General 


whispwing with the Chancellor ; they tahe their places : to 
them enter Treasurer and Secretary, who tahe their places 
prepared on one side of the Court. To them the Captain of 
the Guard, the Admiral following, who is placed at the bar. 

Chan, Good Master Proctor-General, begin. 

Proe. It is not unknown to you, my very good lords the 
Judges, and indeed to all the world, for I will make short work, 
since your honourable ears need not to be enlarged — I speak 
by a figure — with prolix enumeration, how infinitely the King 
hath favoured this ill-favoured traitor ; and yet I may worth- 5 
ily too insist and prove that no grace hath been so large and 
voluminous as this, that he hath appointed such upright 
judges at this time, and the chief of this Triumvirie, our Chan- 
cellor, by name Poyet, which deriveth from the Greek his 
etymology, from nottiy, which is, to make, to create, to in- 10 
vent matter that was never esctant in nature ; from whence 
also is the name and dignity of Poeta — ^which I will not insist 
upon in this place, although I am confident his lordship want- 
eth no faculty in making of verses. But what addition, I say, 
is it to the honour of this delinquent, that he hath such a 15 
judge, a man so learned, so full of equity, so noble, so notable, 
in the progress of his life so innocent, in the manage of his 
office so incorrupt, in the passages of state so wise, in affection 
to his country so religious, in all his services to the King so 
fortunate and exploring, as envy itself cannot accuse, or 20 
malice vitiate, whom all lips will open to commend, but those 
of Philip, and in their hearts will erect altars and statues, 
columns and obelisks, pillars and p3a'amids, to the perpetuity 
of his name and memory. What shall I say ? but conclude 
for his so great and sacred service, both to our King and king- 25 
dom, and for their everlasting benefit, there may everlastingly 
be left here one of his loins ; one of his loins ever remain, I say, 
and stay upon this Bench, to be the example of all justice, 
even while the north and south star shall continue. 

Chan, You express your oratory. Master Proctor ; I pray 30 
come presently to the matter. 

Proc. Thus, with your lordship's pardon, I proceed ; and 
the first thing I shall glance at will be worth your lordship's re- 
flection — ^his ingratitude ; and to whom? To no less person than 
along. Andtowhatking? His own, and our general Sovereign, 35 
— pro Deum aique hominum fidem — a king and such a long, 
the healthy life, and soul of us all» whose very mention draws 


this salt water from my eyes ; for he, indeed, is our e3^, who 
wakes and watches for us when we sleep— -and who will not 
sleep for him ? I mean not sleep, which the philosophers caU 40 
a natural cessation of the common, and, consequently, of all 
the exterior senses, caused first and immediately by a deten- 
tion of spirits, which can have no communication, since the 
way is obstructed by which these spirits should commerce, by 
vapours ascending from the stomach to the head ; by which 45 
evaporation the roots of the nerves are filled, through which 
the [animal] spirits [use] to be poured into the dweUings of the 
external senses ; — but sleep, I take for death, which all know to 
be ultima linea. Who will not sleep eternally for such a king 
as we enjoy ? If, therefore, in general, as he is King of us all, 50 
all sharing and dividing the benefits of this our Sovereign, 
none should be so ingrateful as once to murmur against him, 
what shall be said of the ingratitude more monstrous in this 
Chabot ? For our Francis hathloved, not in general, and in the 
crowd with other subjects, but particularly, this Philip ; ad- 55 
vanced him to the supreme dignity of a statesman, lodged him 
in his very heart, yet — monstrum horrendum—even to this 
Francis hath Philip been ingrateful. Brutus, the loved son, 
hath stabbed Caesar with a bodkin. Oh, what brute may be 
compared to him, and in what particulars may this crime be 60 
exemplified ? He hath, as we say, chopped logic with the king ; 
nay, to the very teeth of his sovereign, advanced his own 
gnat-like merits, and justified with Luciferous pride that his 
services have deserved more than all the bounty of our 
munificent King hath paid him. 65 

Chan. Observe that, my lords. 

Proc. Nay, he hath gone further, and most traitorously 
hath committed outrage and impiety to the King's own hand 
and royal character, which, presented to him in a bill from 
the whole council, he most violently did tear in pieces, and 70 
will do the very body and person of our King, if 3^ur justice 
make no timely prevention, and strike out the serpentine 
teeth of this high and more than horrible monster. 

Treas, This was enforced home. 

Proc. In the next place, I will relate to your honours his 75 
most cruel exactions upon the subject, the old vant-couriers 
of rebellions. In the year 1 536 and 37, this oppressor and this 
extortioner under pretext of his due taxation, being Admiral, 
imposed upon certain fishermen (observe, I beseech you, the 
circumstance of their persons, fishermen), who, poor Johns, 8q 


were embarked upon the coast of Normandy and fishing there 
for herrings (which some say is the king of fishes), he imposed, 
I say, twenty sous, and upon every boat six livres. O intoler- 
able exaction ! Enough, not only to alienate the hearts of these 
miserable people from their idng, which, ipso facto ^ is high 85 
treason, but an occasion of a greater inconvenience for want 
of due provision of fish among the subjects ; for by this might 
ensue a necessity of mortal sins, by breaking llie religious 
fast upon Vigils, Embers, and other days commanded by 
sacred authority, besides the miserable rut that would follow, 90 
and perhaps contagion, when feasting and flesh should be 
licensed for every carnal appetite. — T could urge many more 
particulars of his dangerous, insatiate, and boundless avarice ; 
but the improvement of his estate in so few years, from a 
private gentleman's fortune to a great duke's revenues, might 95 
save our Sovereign therein an orator to enforce and prove 
faulty, even to giantism against heaven. 

Judge, This is but a noise of words. 

Pfoc, To the foul outrages so violent, let us add his commis- 
sions granted out of his own presumed authority — ^his Majesty 100 
neither [informed] or respected — his disloyalties, infidehties, 
contempts, oppressions, extortions, with innumerable abuses, 
offences, and forfeits, both to his Majesty's most royal person, 
crown, and dignity ; yet, notwithstanding all these injustices, 
this unmatchable, unjust delinquent affecteth to be thought 105 
inculpable and incomparable just ; but, alas ! my most learned 
lord[s], none knows better than yourselves how easy the sin- 
cerity of justice is pretended, how hard it is to be performed, 
and how common it is for him that hath least colour of title 
to it, to be thought the very substance and soul of it ; he no 
that was never true scholar in the least degree, longs, as a 
woman with child, to be great with scholar ; she that was never 
with child longs, omnibus viis et modis, to be got with child, 
and will wear a cushion to seem with child ; and he that was 
never just, will fly in the King's face to be counted just, 115 
though for all he be nothing but just a traitor. 

Sec. The Admiral smiles. 

Judge. Answer yourself, my lord. 

Chab. I shall, and briefly : 
The furious eloquence of my accuser hath 
Branch'd my offences heinous to the King, 120 

And then his subject, a most vast indictment. 
That to the king I have justified my merit 

C.D.W. X 


And services ; which conscience of that truth 

That gave my auctions life, when they are questioned* 

I ought to urge again, and do without 125 

The least part of injustice. For the bill, 

A foul and most unjust one, and preferr'd 

Gainst the King's honour and his subjects' privilege 

And with a poUcy to betray my office 

And faith to both, I do confess I tore it, 130 

It being press'd immodestly, but without 

A thought of disobedience to his name ; 

To whose mention I bow, with humble reverence. 

And dare appeal to the King's knowledge of me 

How far I am in soul from such a rebel. 135 

For the rest, my lord, and you, my honour'd Judges, 

Since aU this mountain, all this time in labour 

With more than mortal fury 'gainst my life. 

Hath brought forth nought but some ridiculous vermin, 

I will not wrong my right and innocence 140 

With any serious plea in my reply. 

To frustrate breath and fight with terrible shadow[s,] 

That have been forg'd and forc'd against my state, 

But leave aU, with my life, to your free censures, 

Only beseeching aU your learned judgments, 145 

Equal and pious conscience, to weigh — 

Pfoc. And how this great and mighty fortune has exalted 
him to pride is apparent, not only in his braves and bearings 
to the King, the fountain of aU this increase, but in his con- 
tempt and scorn of the subject, his vast expenses in buildings, 1 50 
his private bounties, above ToyH, to soldiers and scholars, 
that he may be the general and patron and protector of arms 
and arts ; the number of domestic attendants, an army of 
grasshoppers and gay butterflies, able to devour the spring ; 
his glorious wardrobes, his stable of horses, that are pricked 155 
with provender, and will enforce us to weed up our vineyards, 
to sow oats for supply of their provision ; his caroches shin- 
ing with gold, and more bright than the chariot of the sun, 
wearing out the pavements — nay, he is of late so transcen- 
dency proud that men must be his mules and carry him up 160 
and down, as it were in a procession for men to gaze at him, till 
their chines crack with the weight of his insupportable pride, 
and who knows but this may prove a fashion ? But who 
groans for this ? The subject ! Who murmur, and are ready to 
begin a rebellion, but the tumultuous sailors and water-rats, 165 


who run up and down the city, like an overbearing tempest, 
cursing the Admiral, who in duty ought to undo himself for 
the general satisfaction of his countr3nnen ? 

Chab. The variety and wonder now presented 
To your most noble notice and the world's, 170 

That all my life and actions and offices 
Explor'd with aU the hundred eyes of law. 
Lighted with lightning, shot out of the wrath 
Of an incens'd and commanding king, 

And blown with foes with far more bitter winds 175 

Than Winter from his Eastern cave exhales. 
Yet nothing found, but what you all have heard ; 
And then consider if a peer of state 
Should be expos'd to such a wild arraignment 
For poor complaints — his fame, faith, life, and honours 180 
Rack'd for no more. 

Chan. No more ? Good Heaven ! What say 

My leam'd assistants ? 

jsi Judge. My lord, the crimes urg'd here for us to censure 
As capital and worth this high arraignment. 
To me seem strange, because they do not fall 185 

In force of law to arraign a Peer of state ; 
For all that law can take into her power 
To sentence is the exaction of the fishermen. 

2nd Judge. Here is no majesty violated : I consent 
To what my brother has express'd. 

Chan. Break then in wonder, 190 

My frighted words out of their fonning powers, 
That you no more collect from all these forfeits 
That Master Proctor-General hath opened 
With so apparent and impulsive learning 
Against the rage and madness of the ofEender, 195 

And violate majesty, my learned assistants, 
When majest3r's affronted and defied, 
(It being compared with, and in such an onset 
As leap'd into his throat, his life affrighting 1) 
Be justified in all insolence all subjects, 300 

If this be so considered, and insult 
Upon your privileg'd maUce ! Is not majesty 
Poison'd in this wonder, and no felony set 
Where royalty is robb'd and [violate] ? 

Fie, how it fights with law, and grates upon 205 

Her brain and soul, and all the powers of reason 1 


Reporter of the process, show the schedule. 

Notary. Here, my good lord. 

isi Judge. No altering it m as. 

2nd Judge. Far be it from ns, sir. 

Chan. Here's silken jnstice ! 

It might be altered ; mend your sentences. 210 

Both. Not we, my lord ! 

Chan. Not yon ? The King shall know 

You slight a duty to his will and safety. 
Give me your pen ; it must be capital. 

15^ Judge, lilake what you please, my lord ; our doom 
shaU stand. 

Chan. Thus, I subscribe : now, at your perils, follow. 215 

Both, Perils, my lord ? Threats in the King's free justice ? 

Treas. I am amaz'd they can be so remiss. 

Sec, Merciful men, pitiful judges, certain ! 

15/ Judge [aside]. Subscribe ; it matters nothing, being 
On this side [V], and on this side this capital /, 220 

Both which together put, import plain Vi ; 
And witness we are forc'd. 

2nd Judge [aside]. Enough ; 

It will acquit us, when we make it known. 
Our names are forc'd. 

Chan. If traitorous pride 

Upon the royal person of a king 225 

Were sentenc'd unfeloniously before, 
I'll bum my books, and be a judge no more. 

Both. Here are our hands subscribed. 

Chan. Why, so ! It joys me. 

You have reform'd your justice and your judgment. 
Now have you done like judges and learned lawyers ; 230 

The King shall thank and honour yDu for this. 
Notary, read. 

Not. We, by his sacred Majesty appointed fudges, upon due 
trial and examination of Philip Chabot, Admiral of France, 
declare him guilty of high treasons, etc. 235 

Chan, Now, Captain of the guard, secure his person 
Till the King signify 

His pleasure for his death. This day is happy 
To France, thus rescued from the vile devourer. 

A shout within 
Hark, how the votes applaud their blest deliverance! 240 


[To Chabot] You that so late did right and conscience 

Heaven's mercy now implore, the King's is lost. Exeunt 

A Room in the Court] 
Enter King, Queen, and Constable 

King, You raise my thoughts to wonder, that you, madam. 
And you, my lord, unite your force to plead 
V th' Admiral's behalf : this is not that 
Language you did express, when the torn bill 
Was late pretended to us ; it was then 5 

Defiance to our high prerogative. 
The act of him whose proud heart would rebel, 
And, arm'd with faction, too soon attempt 
To tear my crown off. 

Queen, I was ignorant 

Then of his worth, and heard but the report 10 

Of his accusers and his enemies. 
Who never mention in his character 
Shadows of any virtue in those men 
They would depress : Like crows and carrion birds, 
They fly o'er flowery meads, clear springs, fair gardens, 15 
And stoop at carcases. For your own honour. 
Pity poor Chabot. 

King» Poor, and a Colossus 

That could so lately straddle o'er a province ? 
Can he be fallen so low and miserable. 

To want my pity, who breaks forth like day, 20 

Takes up sdl people's eyes and admiration ? 
It cannot be. He hath a princely wife, too. 

Queen, I interpose not often, sir, or press you 
With unbecoming importunity 

To serve the profitable ends of others. 25 

Conscience and duty to yourself enforce 
My present mediation ; you have given 
The health of your own state away, unless 
Wisdom in time recover him. 

King. If he prove 

No adulterate gold, trial confirms his value. 30 


Queen. Although it hold in metal, gracious sir, 
Such fiery examination and the furnace 
May waste a heart that's faithful, and together 
With that you call the faces, something of 
The precious substance may be hazarded. 35 

King, [To the Constable] Why, you are the chief engine 
rais'd against him. 
And in the world's creed labour most to sink him 
That in his fall and absence every beam 
May shine on you and only gild your fortune. 
Your difference is the ground of his arraignment ; 40 

Nor were we unsolicited by you 
To have your bill confirm'd ; from that, that spring. 
Came all these mighty and impetuous waves, 
With which he now must wrestle ; if the strength 
Of his own innocence can break the storm, 45 

Truth wo' not lose her servant, her wings cover him. 
He must obey his fate. 

Mont, I would not have 

It lie upon my fame that I should be 
Mentioned in story his unjust supplanter 
For your whole kingdom. I have been abused, 50 

And made believe my suit was just and necessary ; 
My walks have not been safe, my closet prayers. 
But some plot has pursued me by some great ones 
Agamst your noble Admiral ; they have frighted 
My fancy into my dreams with their close whispers 55 

How to uncement your affections, 
And render him the fable and the scorn 
Of France. 

Queen. Brave Montmorency I 

King, Are you serious ? 

Mont, Have I a soul or gratitude to acknowledge 
Myself your creature, dignified and honoured 60 

By your high favours ? With an equal truth 
I must declare the justice of your Admiral 
(In what my thoughts are conscious), and will rather 
Give up my claim to birth, title, and offices. 
Be thrown from your warm smile, the top and crown 65 

Of subjects' happiness, than be brib'd with aU 
Their glories to the guilt of Chabot's ruin. 

King. Come, come ; you overact this passion. 
And if it be not policy, it tastes 


Too green, and wants some counsel to mature it ; 70 

His fall prepares your triumph. 

Mont. It confirms 

My shame alive, and, buried, will corrupt 
My very dust, make our house-genius groan. 
And fright the honest marble from my ashes. 
His fall prepare my triumph 1 Turn me first 75 

A naked exile to the world. 

King. No more ; 

Take heed you banish not yourself; be wise. 
And let not too much zeal devour your reason. 

Enter Asall 

As. Your Admiral is condemn'd, sir. 

King. Ha, strange I No matter ; 

Leave us. [Exit Asall] A great man, I see, may be 80 

As soon dispatch'd as a conmion subject. 

Queen. No mercy then for Chabot 1 

Enter Wife and Father 

Wife. From whence came 

That sound of Chabot ? Then we are all undone. 
[Kneeling] Oh, do not hear the Queen, she is no friend 
To my poor lord, but made against his life, 85 

Which hath too many enemies already I 

Mont. [TotheFa,iheT] Poor soul I She thinks the Queen 
is still against him. 
Who employeth all her powers to preserve him. 

Fath. Say you so, my lord ? Daughter, the Queen's our 

Wife. Why do you mock my sorrow ? Can you flatter 90 
Your own grief so ? [To the King] Be just and hear me, 

And do not sacrifice a subject's blood 
To appease a wrathful Queen ; let mercy shine 
Upon your brow, and heaven will pay it back 
Upon your soul : be deaf to aU her prayers. 95 

King. Poor heart, she knows not what she has desir'd. 

Wife. I beg my Chabot's life ; my sorrows yet 
Have not destroy'd my reason. 

King. He is in the power 

Of my laws, not mine. 

Wife. Then you have no power, 


And axe but the empty shadow of a king. icx> 

To whom is it resign'd. Where shall I beg 
The forfeit life of one condemn'd by law's 
Too partial doom ? 

King. You hear he is condemn'd then ? 

Fath, My son is condemn'd, sir. 

King. You know for what too ? 

Fath. What the judges please to call it ; 105 

But they have given 't a name — ^treason, they say. 

Queen. I must not be denied. 

King. I must deny you. 

Wife. Be blest for ever for't! 

Queen. Grant then to her. 

King. Chabot condemned by law ! 

Fath. But you have power 

To change the rigour; in your breast there is no 

A chancellor above it. [Kneeling] I ne'er had 
A suit before ; but my knees join with hers 
To implore your royal mercy to her lord. 
And take his cause to your examination ; 
It caimot wrong your judges, if they have 115 

Been steer'd by conscience. 

Mont. It will fame your justice. 

King. I cannot be prescrib'd ; you kneel in vain. 
You labour to betray me with your tears 
To a treason above his, gainst my own laws. 

[The Wife swoons] 
Look to the ladyl 

Enter Asall 

As. Sir, the Chancellor I 120 

King. Admit him. — Leave us all. 

Exeunt [all but the King] 

Enter Chancellor 

How now, my lord ? 
You have lost no time ; and how thrive the proceedings ? 
Chan. 'Twas fit, my gracious Sovereign, Time should 
His motion made in all affairs beside, 
And spend his wings only in speed pi this. 125 

King. You have show'd diligence ; and what's become 
Of our most curious justicer, the Admiral ? 



Chan. Condemned, sir, utterly, and all hands set 
To his conviction. 

King, And for faults most foul ? 

Chan, More than most impious : but the applausive 
issue, 130 

Struck by the concourse of your ravish'd subjects 
For joy of your free justice, if there were 
No other cause to assure the sentence just, 
Were proof convincing. 

King, Now then he sees clearly 

That men perceive how vain his justice was, 135 

And scorn him for the foolish net he wore 
To hide his nakedness. Is't not a wonder 
That men's ambitions should so blind their reason 
To affect shapes of honesty, and take pride 
Rather in seeming than in being just ? 140 

Chan, Seeming has better fortune to attend it 
Than being sound at heart, and virtuous. 

King, Profess all, nothing do, like those that live 
By looking to the lamps of holy temples, 
Who still are busy taking off their snufis, 145 

But for their profit sake will add no oil I 
So these will check and sentence every ffljame. 
The blaze of riotous blood doth cast in others, 
And in themselves leave the fume most offensive. 
But he to do this, more deceives my judgment 150 

Than all the rest whose nature I have sounded. 

Chan, I know, sir, and have prov'd it. 

King, Well, my lord. 

To omit circumstance, I highly thank you 
For this late service you have done me here, 
Which is so great and meritorious 155 

That with my ablest power I scarce can quit you« 

Chan, Your sole acceptance, my dread Sovereign, 
I more rejoice in than in all the fortunes 
That ever chanc'd me. But when may it please 
Your Highness to order the execution ? 160 

The haste thus far has spar'd no pinions. 

King, No, my lord, 3rour care 
Hath therein much deserved. 

Chan, But where proportion 

Is kept to th' end in things at start so happy. 
That end set on the crown. 


King, I'll speed it therefore. 165 

Chan, Your thoughts direct it ; they are wing'd. Exit 
King, I joy 

This boldness is condemn'd, that I may pardon, 

And therein get some ground in his opinion, 

By so much bounty as saves bis life ; 

And methinks that, weigh' d more, should sway the balance 170 

'Twixt me and him, held by his own free justice ; 

For I could never find him obstinate 

In any mind he held, when once he saw 

Th' error with which he laboured ; and since now 

He needs must feel it, I admit no doubt 175 

But that his alteration will beget 

Another sense of things 'twixt him and me. 

Who's there ? 

Enter Asall 

Go to the Captain of my guard, and will him 
To attend his condemn'd prisoner to me instantly. 180 

As. 1 shall, sir. 

Enter Treasurer and Secretary 

King. My lords, you were spectators of our Admiral. 

Treas. Ajid hearers too of his most just conviction. 
In which we witness'd over-weight enough 
In your great bounties, as they there were weigh'd, 185 

With all the feathers of his boasted merits. 

King, Has felt a scorching trial ; and the test 
That holds fire's utmost force we must give metals 
That will not with the hammer and the melting 
Confess their truth ; and this same sense of feeling 190 

(Being ground to all the senses), hath one key 
More than the rest to let in through them all 
The ndnd's true apprehension, that thence takes 
Her first convey'd intelligence. I long 

To see this man of confidence again. 195 

How think you, lords, will Chabot look on me. 
Now spoil'd of the integrity he boasted ? 

Sec. It were too much honour to vouchsafe your sight. 

Treas. No doubt, my Liege, but he that ha1±L ofiended 
In such a height against your crown and person, 200 

Will want no impudence to look upon you. 


EnUr Asall, Captain, Admiral 

Cap. Sir, I had charge given me by this gentleman 
To bring your condemned prisoner to your presence. 

King. You have done well ; and tell the Queen and our 
Lord Constable we desire their presence ; bid 205 

Our Admiral's lady, and her father too, 
Attend us here : they are but new withdrawn. 

As. I shall, sir. 

Treas. Do you observe this confidence ? 

He stands as all his trial were a dream. 

Sec. He'll find the horror waking. The King's troubled : 210 
Now for a thunder-clap. The Queen and Constable ! 

Enter Queen, Constable, Wife, and Father 

Treas. I do not like their mixture. 
King. My Lord Admiral, 

You made it your desire to have this trial 
That late hath pass'd upon you ; 

And now you feel how vain is too much faith 215 

And flattery of yourself, as if your breast 
Were proof gainst all invasion ; 'tis so slight. 
You see, it lets in death ; whaf s past hath been 
To satisfy your insolence ; there remains 

That now we serve our own free pleasure ; therefore, 220 

By that most absolute power, with which all right 
Puts in my hands these issues, turns, and changes, 
I here, in ear of all these, pardon all 
Your faults and forfeits, whatsoever censur'd. 
Again advancing and establishing 225 

Your person in all fulness of that state 
That ever yotl enjoy 'd before th' attainder. 

Treas. Wonderful, pardon'd ! 

Wife. Heaven preserve the King ! 

Queen. Who for this wiU deserve all time to honour him. 

Mont. And live kings' best example. 

Fath. Son, y'are pardon'd ; 230 

Be sure you look hereafter well about you. 

Chab. Vouchsafe, great sir, to assure me what you said ; 
You nam'd my pardon. 

King. And again declare it. 

For an crimes past, of what nature soever. 

Chab. You cannot pardon me, sir. 

King. How's that, PhiUp ? 235 


Chab» It is a wcnrd carries too much relation 
To an ofience, of which I am not guilty. 
And I must still be bold, where truth still arms. 
In spite of all those frowns that would deject me, 
To say I need no pardon. 

King. Ha, how's this ? 240 

Fath. He's mad with over joy and answers nonsense. 

King. Why, tell me, Chabol^ are not you condemned ? 

Chab. Yes, and that justifies me much the more ; 
For whatsoever false report hath brought you, 
I was condemn'd for nothing that could reach 345 

To prejudice my life, my goods, or honour. 
As first, in firmness of my conscience, 
I confidently told you ; not, alas ! 
Presuming on your slender thread of favour. 
Or pride of fortunate and courtly boldness, 250 

But what my faith and justice bade me trust to; 
For none of all your leam'd assistant judges. 
With all the malice of my crimes, could urge 
Or felony or hurt of sacred power. 

King, Do any hear this but myself ? My lords, 255 

This man still justifies his innocence. 
What prodigies are these ? Have not our laws 
Pass'd on his actions ; have not equal judges 
Certified his arraignment and him guilty 
Of capital treason ; and yet do I hear 260 

Chabot accuse all these, and quit himself ? 

Treas, It does appear distraction, sir. 

King, Did we 

Seem so indulgent to propose our free 
And royal pardon, wil^out suit or prayer. 
To meet with his contempt ? 

Sec, Unheard-of impudence ! 265 

Chab, I were maUcious to m3rself and desperate 
To force untruths upon my soul, and, when 
'Tis clear, to confess a shame to exercise 
Your pardon, sir. Were I so foul and monstrous 
As I am given to you, you would commit 270 

A sin next mine by wronging your own mercy 
To let me draw out impious breath : it will 
Release your wonder if you give command 
To see 3rour process ; and if it prove other 
Than I presume to inform, tear me in pieces. 275 

■ I I m»im 


King. Go for the process, and the Chancellor, 
With tiie assistant Judges. 

Ejnt Asall 

I thank heaven 
That with all these enforcements of distraction 
My reason stays so clear to hear and answer 
And to direct a message. This inversion 280 

Of all the lo3^ties and true deserts 
That I believ'd I govem'd with till now. 
In my choice lawyers and chief counsellors. 
Is able to shake all my frame of reason. 

Chab. 1 am much griev'd. 

King. No morel [Aside] 1 do incline 285 

To think I am abus'd, my laws betray'd 
And wrested to the purpose of my judges. 
This confidence in Chabot turns my judgment: 
This was too wild a way to make his merits 
Stoop and acknowledge my superior bounties, 290 

That it doth raise and fix 'em past my art 
To shadow ; all the shame and forfeit's mine. 
Enter Asall, Chancellor, Judges 

As. The Chancellor and Judges, sir. 

Treas. [aside]. I like not 

This passion in the King ; the Queen and Constable 
Are of that side. 

King. My lord, you dare appear, then ? 295 

Chan. Dare, sir ? I hope — 

King. Well done ; hope stiU, and tell me, 

Is not this man condemn' d ? 

Chan. Strange question, sir t 

The process wiU declare it, sign'd with aU 
These my assistant brothers' reverend hands. 
To his conviction in a public trial. 300 

King. You said for foul and monstrous facts prov'd 
by him ? 

Chan. The very words are there, sir. 

King. But the deeds 

I look for, sir ; name me but one that's monstrous. 

C?ian. His foul comparisons and affronts of you 
To me seem'd monstrous. 

King. I told 3^u them, sir ; 305 

Nor were they any that your so vast knowledge, 
a man stacked in him, could produce 


And prove as clear as heaven ; you warranted 

To make appear such treasons in the Admiral, 

As never all law's volumes yet had sentenced, 310 

And France should look on having scap'd with wonder. 

What in this nature hath been clearly prov'd 

In his arraignment ? 

I St Judge, Nothing that we heard 

In slend'rest touch urg'd by your advocate. 

King. Dare you affirm this too ? 

2nd Judge. Most confidently. 315 

King. No base corruptions charg'd upon him ? 

15/ Judge. None, sir! 

Treas. [aside] This argues Chabot has corrupted him. 

Sec. [aside] 1 do not like this. 

1st Judge. The sum of all 

Was urg'd to prove your Admiral corrupt. 
Was an exaction of his officers 320 

Of twenty sous taken from the fishermen 
For every boat that fish'd the Norman coast. 

King. And was this all 
The mountains and the marvels promis'd me, 
To be in clear proof made against the life 325 

Of our so hated Admiral ? 

Judges, All, sir. 

Upon our lives and consciences! 

Chan, [aside] I am blasted. 

King. How durst you then subscribe to his conviction ? 

15/ Judge, For threats by my Lord Chancellor on the 
Affirming that 3^ur Majesty would have it 330 

Made capital treason, or account us traitors. 

2nd Judge. Yet, sir, we did put to our names with this 
Interposition of a note in secret 
In these two letters, V and /, to show 

We were enforced to what we did, which then 335 

In law is nothing. 

Fath. How do you feel, your lordship ? 

Did you not find some stuffing in your head ? 
Your brain should have been purg'd. 

Chan, I faU to pieces. 

Would they had rotted on the bench ! 

King, And so you sav'd the peace of that high court, 340 
Which otherwise his impious rage had broken; 


But thus am I by his malicious arts 

A par[t]y rendered, and most tyramious spur 

To all the open course of his base envies, 

A forcer of my judges, and a thirst 345 

Of my nobility's blood, and all by one 

I trusted to make clear my love of justice. 

Chan, I beseech your Majesty let all my zeal 
To serve your virtues, with a sacred value 
Made of your royal state to which each least 350 

But shade of violence in any subject 
Doth provoke certain death — 

King, Death on thy name 

And memory for ever 1 One command 
Our Advocate attend us presently. 

As. He waits here. 355 

King. But single death shall not excuse thy skin 

Tom o'er thine ears, and what else can be inflicted, 

If thy life, with the same severity 

Dissected, cannot stand so many fires. 

Sec ) 

T eas I "^ merciful, great sir I [Kneeling.] 

King. Yet more amaze ! 360 

Is there a knee in all the world beside. 
That any human conscience can let bow 
For him. Y'are traitors all that pity him. 

Treas. [Aside] This is no time to move. 

King. Yet 'twas my fault 

To trust this wretch, whom I knew fierce and proud 365 
With forms of tongue and learning. What a prisoner 
Is pride of the whole flood of man ! For as 
A human seed is said to be a mixture 
And fair contemperature extracted from 

All our best faculties, so the seed of all 370 

Man's sensual frailty may be said to abide. 
And have their confluence in only pride ; 
It stupefies man's reason so, and duUs 
True sense of anything but what may fall 
In his own glory, quenches all the spirits 375 

That light a man to honour and true goodness. 

As. Your advocate. 

Enter Advocate 
King. Come hither. 


Ad, My most gracious Sovereign. 

[King talks with him aside] 

Chab, Madam, you infinitely oblige our duty. 

Queen. I was too long ignorant of your worth, my lord, 380 
And this sweet lady's virtue. 

Wife. Both your servants. 

Chah. I never had a fear of the King's justice, 
And yet I know not what creeps o'er my heart. 
And leaves an ice beneath it. My Lord Chancellor, 
You have my forgiveness ; but implore Heaven's pardon 385 
For wrongs to equal justice ; you shall want 
No charity of mine to mediate 
To the King for you. 

Chan. Horror of my soul 

Confounds my gratitude. 

Mont. [To Chabot] To me now most welcome. 

Ad. [To the King] It was my allegiance, sir ; I did 
enforce 390 

But by directions of your Chancellor ; 
It was my office to advance your cause 
Gainst all the world, which when I leave to execute, * 

Flay me, and turn me out a most raw advocate. 

King. You see my Chancellor. 

Ad. He has an iQ look with him. 395 

King. It shall be your province now, on our behalf, 
To urge what can in justice be against him ; 
His riot on our laws and corrupt actions 
Will give you scope and field enough. 

Ad. And I 

Will play my law prize ; never fear it, sir. 400 

He shall be guilty of what you please. I am studied 
In him, sir ; I will squeeze his villanies, 
And urge his acts so home into his bowels. 
The force of it shall make him hang himself. 
And save the laws a labour. 

King. Judges, for all 405 

The poisonous outrage that this viper spilt 
On all my royal freedom and my empire. 
As making all but servants to his malice, 
I will have 3rou revise the late arraignment ; 
And for those worthy reasons that already 410 

Affect you for my Admiral's acquittal, 
Employ your justice on this Chaacellor. Away with him 1 


Arrest him. Captain of my Guard, to answer 
All that due course of law against him can 
Charge both his acts and life. 

Cap, I do arrest thee, 415 

Poyet, Lord Chancellor, in his Highness' name. 
To answer all that equal course of law 
Can charge thy acts and life with. 

Chan. I obey. 

[Exit Chancellor guavded\ 

King, How false a heart corruption has ! How base. 
Without true worth, are all these earth-bred glories ( 420 
O, blessed justice, by which all things stand, 
That stills the thunder, and makes lightning sink 
'Twixt earth and heaven amaz'd, and cannot strike, 
Being prov'd so now in wonder of this man. 
The object of men's hate, and heaven's bright love ; 425 

And as in cloudy days we see the sun 
Glide over turrets, tuples, richest fields. 
All* those left dark and slighted in his way, 
And on the wretched plight of some poor shed. 
Pours all the glories of his golden head : 430 

So heavenly virtue on this envied lord 
Points all his graces that I may distinguish 
Him better from the world. 

Treas. You do him right. 

King, But away. Judges, and pursue the arraignment 
Of this polluted Chancellor with that swiftness 435 

His fury wing'd against my Admiral ; 
And be you all that sate on him compurgators 
Of me against this false judge. 

Judges, We are so. 

King, Be you two join'd in the commission. 
And nothing urg'd but justly, of me learning 440 

This one more lesson out of the events 
Of these affairs now past : that whatsoever 
Charge or conmiission judges have from us, 
They ever make their aim ingenuous justice, 
Not partial for reward or swelling favour; 445 

To which if your king steer you, spare to obey. 
For when his troubled blood is clear and calm. 
He wiU repent that he pursued his rage, 
Before his pious law, and hold that judge 
Unworthy of his place that lets his censure 450 

C.D.W. Y 


Float in the waves of an imagined favour ; 
This shipwrecks in the haven, and but wounds 
Their consciences that soothe the soon-ebb'd humours 
Of their incensed king. 

!^^^'] Royal and sacred I 

King. Come, Philip, shine thy honour now for ever, 455 
For this short temporal eclipse it sufier'd 
By th' interpos'd desire I had to try thee. 
Nor let the thought of what is past afi^t thee 
For my unkindness ; live still circled here. 
The bright intelligence of our royal sphere. 460 



A Room in the Courf] 

EnUr Queen, Constable, Father 

Queen, The Admiral sick ? 

FcUh» With danger at the heart ; 

I came to tell the King. 

Moni. He never had 

More reason in his soul to entertain 
All the delights of health. 

Path. I fear, my lord. 

Some apprehension of the King's unkindness, 5 

By giving up his person and his offices 
To the law's gripe and search, is ground of his 
Sad change ; the greatest souls are thus oft wounded ; 
If he vouchsafe his presence, it may quicken 
His fast deca3ang spirits, and prevent 10 

The hasty ebb of life. 

Queen. The King is now 

Fraught with the joy of his fresh preservation ; 
The news so violent let into his ear. 
May have some dangerous effect in him ; 
I would not counsel, sir, to that. 

Path. With greater reason 15 

I may suspect they'll spread, my lord, and, as 
A river, l[i]ft his curl'd and impetuous waves 


Over the banks, by conflnence of streams 

That fin and swell [their] channel ; for by this time 

He has the addition of Allegre's sufEering, 20 

His honest servant, whom I met, though feeble 

And worn with torture, going to congratulate 

His master's safety. 

Queen. It seems he much 

Affected that Allegre. 

Mont. There will be 

But a sad interview and dialogue. 25 

Queen. Does he keep his bed ? 

Fath. In that alone 

He shows a fortitude ; he will move and walk. 
He says, while his own strength or others' can 
Support him, wishing he might stand and look 
His destiny in the face at the last summons, 30 

Not sluggishly exhale his soul in bed 
'With indulgence, and nice flattery of his limbs. 

Queen. Can he in this show spirit, and want force 
To wrestle with a thought ? 

FaSh. Oh, madam, madam 1 

We may have proof against the sword and tyranny 35 

Of boisterous war that threatens us ; but when 
Kings frown, a cannon mounted in each eye, 
Shoot death to apprehension ere their fixe 
And force approach us. 

Enter King 

Mont. Here's the King. 

Queen. No words 

To interrupt his quiet. 

Fath. I'll b^one, then. 40 

King. Our Admiral's father ? Call him back. 

Queen. I wo' not stay to hear 'em. Exit 

Mont. Sir, be prudent, 

And do not, for your son, fright the King's health. Exit 

King, l^at, ha' they left us ? — ^How does my Admiral ? 

FiM. I am forbid to tell you, sir. 

King. By whom ? 45 

F€Uh. The Queen and my Lord Constable. 

King. Are there 

Remaining seeds of faction ?* Have they souls 
Not yet convinc'd i' th' truth of Chabot's honour. 


Clear as the crystal heaven, and 'bove the reach 
Of imitation ? 

Faih. 'Tis their care of yon, 50 

And no thought prejudicial to my son* 

King. Their care of me? 

How can the knowledge of my Admiral's state 
Concern their fears of me ? I see their envy 
Of Chabof s happiness, whose joy to be 

Render'd so pure and genuine to the world - 55 

Doth grate upon their conscience and affright 'em. 
But let 'em vex, and bid my Chabot still 
Exalt his heart, and triumph ; he shall have 
The access of ours ; the khigdom shall put on 
Such joys for him, as she would boast to celebrate 60 

Her own escape from ruin. 

Fath, [aside.] He is not 

In state to hear my sad news, I perceive. 

King. That countenance is not right, it does not answer 
What I expect ; say, how is my Admiral ? 
The truth, upon thy life! 

Faih. To secure his, 65 

I would yon had. 

King. Ha I Who durst oppose him ? 

Fath. One that hath powerenongh bath practis'd on him. 
And made his great heart stoop. 

King. I will revenge it 

With crushing that rebellious power to nothing. 
Name him. 

Fath. He was his friend. 70 

King. A friend to malice ; his own black imposthume 
Bum his blood up 1 What mischief hath engender'd 
New storms ? 

Fath. 'Tis tiie old tempest. 

King. Did not we 

Appease all horrors that look'd wild upon him ? 

Fath. You dress'd his wounds, I must confess, but made 75 
No cure; they bleed afresh. Pftrdon me, sir; 
Although your conscience have clos'd too sioon. 
He is in danger, and doth want new surgery ; 
Though he be right in fame and your o|nnion. 
He thinks you were unkind. 

King. Alas, poor Chabot I 80 

Doth that afiUct him ? 


Fath. So much, though he strive 

With most resolv'd and adamantine nerves. 
As ever human fire in flesh and blood 
Forg'd for example to bear all, so killing 
The arrows that you shot were (still your pardon), 85 

No centaur's blood could rankle so. 

King. II this 

Be all, I'll cure him ; kings retain 
More balsam in their soul than hurt in anger. 

FiM. Far short, sir; with oae breath they uncreate; 
And kings, with only words, more wounds, can make 90 

Than all their kingdom made in balm can heal ; 
'Tis dangerous to play too wild a descant 
On numerous virtue, though it become princes 
To assure their adventures made in everything : 
Goodness, confined within poor flesh and blood, 95 

Hath but a queasy and still sickly state ; 
A musical hand should only play on her. 
Fluent as air, yet every touch command. 

King. No morel 
Commend .us to the Admiral, and say 100 

The King will visit him, and bring [him] health. 

Faih. I will not doubt that blessing, and shall move 
Nimbly with this command. Exeunt 


A Court of Justice] 

Enter Officers before ; Treasurer, Secretary, and Judges, attended 
by Petitioners, the Advocate also, with many papers in his 
hand. They take their places : the Chancellor, with a guard 
[is led in}, and placed at the bar. 

Treas. [aside] Did you believe the Chancellor had been 
So foul? 

Sec. [aside] He's lost to th' people ; what contempts 
They throw upon him I But we must be wise. 

15^ Judge. Were there no other guilt, his malice show'd 
Upon the Admiral in o'erbearing justice 5 

Would well deserve a sentence. 

Treas. And a deep onel 

2nd Judge, If please your lonlships to remember, that 


Was specially commended by the King, 
As being most blemish to his royal person 
And the free justice of his state. 

Treas. Already lo 

He has confessed upon his examinations 
Enough for censure; yet, to obey form — 
Master Advocate, if you please — 

Ad, I am ready for your lordships. It hath been said, 
and will be said again, and may truly be justified, omnia ex 15 
Hie fieri. It was the position of philosophers, and now 
proved by a more philosophical sect, the lawyers, that, 
omnia ex Hie fiant, we are all made by law — made, I say, and 
worthily, if we be just ; if we be unjust, marred ; though in 
marring some, there is necessity of making otiiers, for if one 20 
fall by the law, ten to one but another is exalted by the execu- 
tion of the law, since the corruption of one must conclude the 
generation of another, though not always in the same profes- 
sion ; the corruption of an apothecary may be the generation 
of a doctor of physic ; the corruption of a citizen may beget 25 
a courtier, and a courtier may very well beget an alderman ; 
the corruption of an alderman may be the generation of a 
country justice, whose corrupt ignorance easily may b^et a 
tumult ; a tumult may beget a captain, and the corruption 
of a captain may beget a gentleman-usher, and a gentleman- 30 
usher may beget a lord, whose wit may beget a poet, and a 
poet may get a thousand pound a year, but nothing without 

Treas, Good Master Advocate, be pleased to leave all 
digressions, and speak of the Chancellor. 35 

Ad. Your lordship doth very seasonably premonish ; 
and I shall not need to leave my subject, corruption, while 
I discourse of him, who is the very fen and Stygian abyss of 
it : five thousand and odd hundred foul and impious corrup- 
tions, for I will be brief, have been found by several examina- 40 
tions, and by oaths proved, against this odious and polluted 
Chancellor ; a man of so tainted and contagious a life, that 
it is a miracle any man enjoyeth his nostrils that hath lived 
within the scent of his offices. He was bom with teeth in 
his head, by an affidavit of his midwife, to note his devouring, 45 
and hath one toe on his left foot crooked, and in the form ol 
an eagle's talon, to foretell his rapacity — ^what shall I say ? — 
branded, marked, and designed in his birth for shame and 
obloquy, which appeareth further, by a mole under his 


right ear, with only three witch's hairs in't ; strange and 50 
ominous predictions of nature 1 

TrecK, You have acquainted yourself but very lately 
with this intelligence, for, as I remember, your tongue was 
guilty of no such character when he sat judge upon the 
Admiral : a pious, incorrupt man, a faithful and fortimate 55 
servant to his king ; and one of the greatest honours that ever 
the Admiral received was, that he had so noble and just a 
judge : this must imply a strange volubility in your tongue or 
conscience. I speak not to discountenance any evidence for 
tiie King, but to put you in mind. Master Advocate, that 60 
you had then a better opinion of my Lord Chancellor. 

Ad, Your lordship hath most aptly interposed, and with 
a word I shall easily satisfy all your judgments. He was 
then a judge, and in cathedra, in which he could not err — ^it 
may be your lordships' cases. Out of the chair and seat of 65 
justice he hath his frailties, is loosed and exposed to the 
conditions of other human natures ; so every judge, your 
lordships are not ignorant, hath a kind of privilege while he 
is in his state, office, and being ; although he may, quoad se, 
internally and privately be guilty of bribery of justice, yet, 70 
quoad nos, and in public, he is an upright and innocent judge. 
We are to take no notice, nay, we deserved to suffer, if we 
should detect or stain him, for in that we disparage the office, 
which is the King's, and may be our own ; but once removed 
from his place by just dishonour of the King, he is no more 75 
a judge, but a common person whom the law takes hold on, 
and we are then to forget what he hath been, and without 
partiality to strip and lay him open to the world, a counterfeit 
and corrupt judge : as, for example, he may, and ought to 
flourish in his greatness, and bresLk any man's neck with as 80 
much facility as a jest ; but the case being altered, and he 
down, every subject shall be heard ; a wolf may be apparelled 
in a lamb skin ; and if every man should be afraid to speak 
truth nay, and more than truth, if the good of the subject, 
which are clients, sometime require it, there would be no 85 
remove of officers ; if no remove, no motions ; if no motion 
in court, no heat, and, by consequence, but cold terms. Take ^ 
away this moving, this removing of judges, the law may 
bury itself in buckram, and the kingdom suffer for want of a 
due execution ; and, now, I hope, your lordships are satisfied. 90 
Treas. Most learnedly concluded to acquit yourself. 
tst Judge. Master Advocate, please you to urge, for 


satisfaction of the world and clearing the King's hanour, how 
injustly he proceeded against the Admiral. 

Ad. I shall obey your lordship. — So vast, so infinite hath 95 
been the impudence of this Chancellor, not only toward the 
subject, but even the sacred person of the King, that I 1 

tremble, as with a palsy, to remember it. This man, or 
rather this monster, having power and commission trusted 
for the examination of the Lord Admiral, a man perfect in 100 
all honour and justice, indeed, the very ornament and second 
flower of France — ^for the flower-de-lis is sacred, and above 
all flowers, and indeed the best flower in our garden — having 
used all wa3rs to circumvent his innocence, by suborning and 
promising rewards to his betrayers, by compelling others by 105 
the cruelty of tortures, as namely Monsieur Allegre, a most 
honest and faithful servant to his lord, tearing and extending 
his sinews upon the rack to force a confession to his purpose ; 
and finding nothing prevail upon the invincible virtue of the 
Admiral — no 

Sec. [aside] How he would flatter him I 
Ad. Yet most maliciously proceeded to arraign him ; to be 
short, against all colour of justice condemiied him of high 
treasons. Oh, think what the life of man is, that can never 
be recompensed, but the life of a just man, a man that is 115 
the vigour and glory of our life and nation, to be torn to death, 
and sacrificed beyond the malice of common persecution ! 
What tiger of Hyrcanian breed could have been so cruel ? 
But this is not all I He was not guilty only of murder — guilty, 
I may say, in foro conscientia, though our good Admiral was 120 
miraculously preserved — ^but unto this he added a most pro- 
digious and fearful rape, a rape even upon Justice itself, the 
very soul of our state ; for the rest of the judges upon the 
Bench, venerable images of [Astraea,] he most tyrannously 
compelled to set their hands to his most unjust sentence. 125 
Did ever story remember the like outrage and injustice ? 
What forfeit, what penalty can be enough to satisfy this 
transcendent offence ? And yet, my good lords, this, is but 
venial to the sacrilege which now follows, and by him com- 
mitted : not content with this sentence, not satisfied with 130 
horrid violence upon the sacred tribunal, but he proceeds 
and blasphemes the very name and honour of the King him- 
self, — observe that, — ^making him the author and impulsive 
cause of all these rapines, justifying that he moved only by 
his special command to the death, nay, the murder, of his 135 


most iaithful subject, translating all his own black and 
damnable guilt upon the King. Here's a traitor to his 
cotmtxy I First, he conspires the death of one whom the King 
loves, and whom every subject ought to honour, and then 
makes it no conscience to proclaim it the King's act, and, 140 
by consequence, declares him a murderer of his own and 
of his best subjects. 

\yoic$$'\ within. An advocate I An advocate I 
Tear him in pieces I Tear the Chancellor in pieces 1 

Treas. The people have deep sense of the Chancellor's 

injustice. 145 

Sec, We must be careful to prevent their mutiny. 

15/ Judge. It will become our wisdoms to secure 
The court and prisoner. 

Treas. Captain of the Guard I 

2nd Judge. What can you say for yourself. Lord Chan- 
cellor ? 

Chan. Again, I confess all, and humbly fly to 150 

The royal mercy of the King. 

Treas, And this 

Submission is the way to purchase it. 

Chan. Hear me, great judges : if you have not lost 
For my sake all your charities, I beesech you 
Let the King know my heart is full of penitence ; 155 

Calm his high-going sea, or in that tempest 
I ruin to eternity. Oh, my lords. 
Consider your own places, and the helms 
You sit at; while with all your providence 
You steer, look forth and see devouring quicksands 1 160 

My ambition now is pumsh'd, and my pride 
Of state and greatness falling into nothing. 
I, that had never time, through vast emplo3anents. 
To think of Heaven, feel his revengeful wrath 
Boiling my blood, and scorching up my entrails. 165 

There doomsday is my conscience, black and horrid 
For my abuse of justice ; but no stings 
Prick with that terror as the wounds I made 
Upon the pious Admiral. Some good man 
Bear my repentance thither ; he is merciful, 170 

And may incline the King to stay his lightmng. 
Which threatens my confusion. That my free 
Resign of titie, office, and what else 
My pride look'd at, would buy my poor life's safety ! 


For ever banish me the court, and let 175 

Me waste my life far off, in some village. 

Ad, How t Did your lordships note his request to yon ? 
He would direct your sentence, to punish him with confining 
him to live in the country ; like the mouse in the fable, that 
having offended to deserve death, begged he might be banished 1 80 
into a Parmesan. I hope your lordships will be more just to 
the nature of his offences. 

Sec. I could have wish'd him fall on softer ground 
For his good parts. 

Treas, My lord, this is your sentence : 

For youJir] high misdemeanours against his Majesty's fudges, 185 
for your unjust sentence of the most equal Lord Admiral, for 
many and foul corruptions and abuse of your office, and that 
infinite stain of the King's person and honour, we, in his 
Majesty's name, deprive you of your estate of Chancellor, and 
declare you uncapable of any judicial office ; and besides, con- 190 
demn you in the sum of two hundred thousand crowns : whereof, 
one hundred thousand to the King, and one hundred thousand to 
the Lord Admiral ; and what remaineth of your estate, to go to 
the restitution of those you have injured ; and to suffer per' 
petual imprisonment in the castle, 195 

So, take him to your custody. 
Your lordships have been merciful in his sentence. 


[Chan.] They have spar'd my life then 1 That some cure 
may bring ; 
I ['11] spend it in my prayers for the King. Exeunt 


A Room in Chabofs House] 
Enter Admiral in his gown and cap, his Wife 

Chab, Allegre ! I am glad he hath so much strength ; 
I prithee let me see him. 

Wife. It will but 

Enlarge a passion. My lord, he'll come 
Another time, and tender you his service. 

Chab, Nay, then — 

Wife. Although I like it not, I must obey. 



Enter Allegre, supported 

Chab. Welcome, my injur'd servant, what a misery 
Ha' they made on thee ! 

A I. Though some change appear 

Upon my body, whose severe affliction 
Hath brought it thus to be sustained by others, 
My h[ea]rt is still the same in faith to you 10 

Not broken with their rage. 

Chab, Alas, poor man 1 

Were all my joys essential, and so mighty 
As the afiected world believes I taste, 
This object were enough to unsweeten all. 
Though in thy absence I had sufEering, 15 

And felt within me a strong sympathy. 
While for my sake their cruelly did vex 
And fright thy nerves with horror of thy sense. 
Yet in this spectacle I apprehend 

More grief than all my imagination 20 

Could let before into me. Did'st not curse me 
Upon the torture ? 

Al. Good my lord, let not 

The thought of what I sufier'd dwell upon 
Your memory ; they could not punish more 
Than what my duty did oblige to bear 25 

For you and justice : but there's something in 
Your looks presents more fear than all the malice 
Of my tormentors could affect my soul with : 
That paleness, and the other forms you wear. 
Would well become a guilty admiral, and one 30 

Lost to his hopes and honour, not the man 
Upon whose life the fury of injustice, 
Arm'd with fierce lightning, and the power of thunder. 
Can make no breach. I was not rack'd till now : 
There's more death in that falling eye than all 35 

Rage ever yet brought forth. What accident, sir, can blast, 
Can be so black and fatal, to distract 
The calm, the triumph, that should sit upon 
Your noble brow ? Misfortime could have no 
Time to conspire with fate, since you were rescued 40 

By the great arm of Providence ; nor can 
Those garlands that now grow about your forehead. 
With all the poison of the world be blasted. 


Chab. Allegre, thou dost bear thy wounds upon thee 
In wide and spacious characters ; but in 45 

The volume of my sadness, thou dost want 
An eye to read ; an open force hath torn 
Thy manly sinews, which some time may cure ; 
The engine is not seen that wounds thy master 
Past all the remedy of art or time, 50 

The flatteries of court, of fame, or honours : 
Thus in the summer a tall flourishing tree. 
Transplanted by strong hand, with all her leaves 
And blooming pride upon her, makes a show 
Of Spring, tempting the eye with wanton blossom ; 55 

But not the sun, with all her amorous smiles. 
The dews of morning, or the tears of night. 
Can root her fibres in the earth again. 
Or make her bosom kind to growth and bearing; 
But the tree withers ; and those very beams 60 

That once were natural warmth to her soft verdure. 
Dry up her sap, and shoot a fever through 
The bark and lind, tiU she becomes a burthen 
To that which gave her life ; so Chabot, Chabot — 

A I. Wonder in apprehension ! I must 65 

Suspect your health indeed. 

Chab, No, no, thou sha' not 

Be troubled ; I but stirr'd thee with a moral. 
That's empty, contains nothing. I am well ; 
See, I can walk ; poor man, thou hast not strength yet I 


A I. What accident is ground of this distraction ? 70 

Enter Admiral 

Chab. Thou hast not heard yet what's become o' th' 
Chancellor ? 

A I. Not yet, my lord. 

Chab. Poor gentleman ! When I think 

Upon the King, I've balm enough to cure 
A thousand wounds ; have I not, Allegre ? 
Was ever bounteous mercy read in story 75 

Like his upon my life, condenm'd for sacrifice 
By law, and snatch'd out of the flame unlooked for. 
And unpetitioned ? But his justice then, 
That would not spare whom his own love made great. 
But give me up to the most cruel test 80 


Of iadges, for some boldness in defence 

Of my own merits and my honest faith to him, 

Was rare, past example. 

Enter Father 

Faih. Sir, the King 

Is coming hither. 

Al. It wiU 

Become my duty, sir, to leave you now. 85 

Chab. Stay, by all means, Allegre, 't shall concern yon. 
I'm infinitely honoured in his presence. 

Enter King, Queen, Constable, and Wife 

Kifig. Madam, be comforted ; I'll be his physician. 
Wife. Pray heaven you may ! 

[Chabot kneels. The King raises him} 

King, No ceremonial knees ; 

Give me thy heart, my dear, my honest Chabot ; 90 

And yet in vain I chsillenge that ; 'tis here 
Already in my own, and shall be cherish'd 
With care of my best life ; [no] violence 
Shall ravish it from my possession ; 

Not those distempers that infirm my blood 95 

And spirits shall betray it to a fear. 
When time and nature join to dispossess 
My body of a cold and languishing breath, 
No stroke in all my arteries, but silence * 
In every faculty, yet dissect me then, 100 

And in my heart the world shaU read thee living, 
And by the virtue of thy name writ there. 
That part of me shall never putrefy. 
When I am lost in all my other dust. 

Chab. You too much honour 3^ur poor servant, sir ; 105 
My heart despairs so rich a monument ; 
But when it dies — 

King. I wo' not hear a sound 

Of anything that trenche[th] upon death ; 
He speaks the funeral of my crown that prophesies 
So unkind a fate. We'll live and die together ; no 

And by that duty which hath taught 3^u hitherto 
All loyal and just services, I charge thee 
Pireserva thy heart for me and thy reward* 
Which now shall crown thy merits. 


Chab. I have found 

A glorious harvest in your favour, sir ; 115 

And by this overflow of royal grace. 
All my deserts are shadows, and fly from me. 
I have not in the wealth of my desires 
Enough to pay you now ; yet you encourage me 
To make one suit. 

King. So soon as nam'd, possess it. 120 

Chab, You would be pleas'd take notice of this gentleman, 
A secretary of mine. 

Mont. Monsieur Allegre ; 

He that was rack'd, sir, for your Admiral. 

Chab. His limbs want strength to tender their full duty. 
An honest man, that sufiers for my sake. 125 

King. He shall be dear to us. [To Allegre] For what has 
pass'd, sir, 
By the unjustice of otu: Chancellor's power. 
We'll study to recompense ; i' th' meantime, that office 
You exercis'd for Chabot, we translate 
To ourself ; you shall be our secretary. 

Al. This is 130 

An honour above my weak desert, and shall 
Oblige the service of my life to satisfy it. 

Chab. You are gracious, and in this act have put 
All our complaints to silence. 

Enter Treasurer and Secretary, [and give the King the sen- 
tence of the Chancellor] 

You, Allegre, 
Cherish your health and feeble limbs, which cannot, 135 

Without much prejudice, be thus employ'd : 
All my best wishes with thee. 

A I. All my prayers 

Are duties to your lordship. Exit 

King. 'Tis too tittle I 

Can forfeit of his place, wealth, and a lasting 
Imprisonment, purge his oflences to 140 

Our honest Admiral ? had our person been 
Exempted from his maUce, he did persecute 
The life of Chabot with an equal wrath ; 
You should have pour'd death on his treacherous head. 
I revoke all yotu: sentences, and make 145 


Him that was wrong'd full master of his destiny. 

[Turning to Chabotj 
Be thon his judge. 

Chab, Oh, far be such injustice I 

I know his doom is heavy ; and I beg. 
Where mercy may be let into his sentence. 
For my sake, you would soften it ; I have 150 

Glory enough to be set right in 3^ur's 
And my dear country's thought, and by an act 
With such apparent notice to the world. 

King, Express it in some joy then. 

Chab. I will strive 

To show that pious gratitude to 3^Uy but — 155 

King. But what ? 

Chab. My frame hath lately, sir, been ta'en a-pieces. 
And but now put together ; the least force 
Of mirth will shake and unjoint aU my reason. 
Your patience, royal sir. 

King. I'll have no patience, 160 

If thou forget the courage of a man. 

Chab. My strength would flatter me. i 

King. Physicians 1 

Now I begin to fear his apprehension. 
Why, how is Chabot's spirit fall'n ! 

Queen. Twere best 

He were convey'd to his bed. 

Wife. How soon tum'd widow I 165 

Chab. Who would not wish to Uve to serve your goodness ? 
Stand from me [to those supporting him], you betray me 

with youT fears ; 
The plummets may fall ofi that hang upon 
My heart ; tiiey were but thoughts at first : or if 
They weigh me down to death, let not my eyes 170 

Close with another object than the King ; 
Let him be last I look on. 

King. I would not have him lost for my whole kingdom. 

Moni. He may recover, sir. 

King. I see it fall ; 

For justice being the prop of every kingdom, 175 

And mine broke, violating him that was 
The knot and contract of it aU in him ; 
It |1s] already falling in my ear. 
Pompey could hear it thunder, when the Senate 


And Capitol were deaf [t]o heaven's loud chiding. i8o 

I'll have another sentence for my Chancellor, 

Unless my Chabot live. In a prince 

What a swift executioner is a frown ! 

Especially of great and noble souls. — 

How is it with my Philip ? 

Ch(ib, 1 must beg 185 

One other boon. 

King, Upon condition 

My Chabot will collect his scatter'd spirits, 
And be himself again, he shall divide 
My kingdom with me. 

Path. Sweet King! 

Chab. I observe 

A fierce and killing wrath engender 'd in you ; 190 

For my sake^ as you wish me strength to serve you, 
Forgive your Chancellor ; let not the story 
Of Fhihp Chabot, read hereafter, draw 
A tear from any family. I beseech 

Your royal mercy on his life and free 195 

Remission of all seizure upon his state ; 
I have no comfort else. 

King. Endeavour but 

Thy own health, and pronounce general pardon 
To all through France. 

Chab. Sir, I must kneel to thank you. 

It is not seal'd else [kneels] ; your blest hand ; Uve happy. 200 
May all you trust have no less faith than Chabot ! 
Oh ! [Dies] 

Wife. His heart is broken. 

Path. And kneeling, sir. 

As his ambition were in death to show 
The truth of his obedience. 

Mont. I fear'd this issue. 

Treas. He's past hope. 205 

King. He has a victory in's death ; this world 
Deserv'd him not. How soon he was translated 
To glorious eternity ! Tis too late 
To fright the air with words ; my tears embalm him I 

Wife. What can become of me ! 210 

[King,] I'll be your husband, madam, and with care 
Supply your children's father ; to your father 
I'll be a son ; in what our love or power 


Can serve his friends, Chabot shall ne'er be wanting. 

The greatest loss is mine, past scale or recompence. 215 

We will proceed no farther gainst the Chancellor. 

To the charity of our Admiral he owes 

His life, which, ever banish'd to a prison. 

Shall not beget in ns, or in the subject. 

New fears of his injustice ; for his fortunes, 220 

Great and acquir'd corruptly, 'tis our will 

They make just restitution for aU wrongs, 

That shall within a year be prov'd aganst him. 

Oh, Chabot, that shall boast as many monuments. 

As there be hearts in France, which, as they grow, 225 

Shall with more love enshrine tiiee I Kings, they say. 

Die not, or starve succession: Oh, why 

Should that stand firm, and kings themselves despair 

To find their subject still in the next heir ? Exeunt 





The Tragedy of Caesar and Pompey 





Though, my good lord, this martial history suffer the division 
of acts and scenes, both for the more perspicuity and height 
of the celebration, yet never touched it at the stage ; or if it 
had (though some may perhaps causelessly impair it) yet would 
it, I hope, fall under no exception in your lordship's better- 
judging estimation, since scenical representation is so far from 
giving just cause of any least diminution, that the personal and 
exact life it gives to any history, or other such delineation of 
human actions, adds to them lustre, spirit, and apprehension : 
which the only section of acts and scenes makes me stand upon 
thus much, since that only in some precisianisms will require a 
little prevention, and the hasty prose the style avoids, obtain 
to the more temperate and staid numerous elocution some 
assistance to the acceptation and grace of it. Though ingenuously 
my gratitude confesseth, my lord, it is not such as hereafter 
I vow to your honour, being written so long since, and had not 
the timely ripeness of that age that, I thank God, I yet find no 
fault withal for any such defects. 

Good my lord, vouchsafe your idle minutes may admit some 
slight glances at this, till some work of more novelty and fashion 
may confer this the more liking of your honour's more worthy 
deservings ; to which his bounden affection vows all servkaes. ' 

. Ever your lordship's 



JnliuB Caesar 

Mark Antony 


Sextus, Pompey* s son 

Marcus Cato 

Fortius, his son 

Athenodorus, a philosopher 

Statilius, a disciple of Cato 

Cleanthes, the Physician of 

Maurcus Brutus 



>'Roman nobles 

Metellus, ) 





The two hentuh 






Marcilius, ) 

[servants of Cato 
Batas, J 

[soldiers of Casar 


Drusus, servant of Cornelia 
Pronto, a ruined knave 
Ophioneus, a devil 


The Kings of < Cicilia 


The two ConsiUs 


A Soothsayer 

A Shipmaster 

A Sentinel 

Two Scouts 





Lords and Citizens of Utica 



Cornelia, wife of Pompey 

Cyris, his daughter 

Telesilla, ) 

\ maids of Cornelia 
Laelia, / 



Pompey and Qesar bring their armies so near Rome, that 
the Senate except against them. Caesar nnduly and ambitiously 
commanding his forces ; Pompey more for fear of Caesar's violence 
to the State, than moved with any affectation of his own great- 
ness. Their opposite pleadings, ont of which admirable narrations 
are made ; which yet not conducing to their ends, war ends them. 
In which at first Caesar is forced to fly, whom Pompey not pur- 
suing with such wings as fitted a speeding conqueror, his victory 
was prevented, and he unhappily dishonoured. Whose ill fortune 
his most loving and learned wife Cornelia travailed after, with 
pains solemn and careful enough ; whom the two Lentuli and 
others attended, till she miserably found him, and saw him 
monstrously murthered. 

Both the Consuls and Cato are slaughtered with their own 
invincible hands, and Caesar (in spite of all his fortune) without 
his victory victor. 



[A Room in Cato's House] 

Cato, Athenodonis, Portius, Statilius 

Cato. Now will the two suns of our Roman heaven, 
Pompey and Caesar, in their tropic burning, 
With their conation all the clouds assemble 
That threaten tempests to our peace and empire. 
Which we shall shortly see pour down in blood. 
Civil and natural wild and barbarous turning. 

Aih. From whence presage you this ? 

Cato. From both their armies. 

Now gather'd near our Italy, co ntend ing 



To enter severally: Pompe3r's brought so near 

By Rome's consent for fear of tyrannous Caesar; lo 

Which Caesar, fearing to be done in favour 

Of Pompey and his passage to the empire. 

Hath brought on his for intervention. 

And such a flock of puttocks follow Caesar, 

For i!all[ings] of his ill-disposed purse 15 

(That never yet spar'd cross to aquiline virtue), 

As well may make all civil spirits suspicious. 

Look how, against great rains, a standing pool 

Of paddocks, toads, and water-snakes put up 

Their speckled throats above the venomous lake, 20 

Croaking and gasping for some fresh-fall'n drops, 

To quench their poison'd thirst, being near to stifle 

With clotter'd purgings of their own foul bane : 

So still where Caesar goes there thrust up head 

Impostors, flatterers, favourites, and bawds, 25 

Bufloons, intelligencers, select wits, 

Close murtherers, mountebanks, and decay'd thieves. 

To gain their baneful lives' reliefs from him. 

From Britain, Belgia, France, and Germany, 

The scum of either country (choos'd by him, 30 

To be his black guard and red agents here) 

Swarming about him. 

For. And all these are said 

To be subom'd, in chief, against yourself ; 
Since Caesar chiefly fears that you will sit 
This day his opposite, in the cause for which 35 

Both you were sent for home, and he hath stoFn 
Access so soon here ; Pompey's whole rest rais'd 
To his encounter, and, on both sides, Rome 
In general uproar. 

SUU, \To Athenodorus] Which, sir, if you saw. 
And knew, how for the danger all suspect 40 

To this your worthiest friend (for that known freedom 
His spirit will use this day gainst both the rivals) 
His wife and family mourn, no food, no comfort 
Allow'd them for his danger, you would use 
Your utmost powers to stay him from the Senate 45 

All this day's session. 

Cato, He's too wise, Statilius ; 

For all is nothing. 

Sua, Nothing, sir ? I saw 


Castor and Pollux Temple thrust np fuU 

With all the damn'd crew yon have lately nam'd» 

The market-place and suburbs swarming with them ; 50 

And where the Senate sit, are ruffians pointed 

To keep from entering the degrees that go 

Up to ihe Bench all other but the Consuls, 

Csesax and Pompey and Ihe Senators ; 

And all for no cause but to keep out Cato 55 

With any violence, any villany. 

And is tiiis nothing, sir ? Is his one life. 

On whom all good lives and their goods depend 

In Rome's whole Empire, all the justice there 

Thafs free and simple, all such virtues too, 60 

And all such knowledge, nothing, nothing, all ? 

CeUo. Away, Statilius ; how long shall thy love 
Exceed thy luiowledge of me and the gods 
Whose rights thou wrong'st for my right ? Have not I 
Their powers to guard me in a cause of theirs ? 65 

Their justice and integrity included. 
In what I stand for ? He that fears the gods 
For guard of any goodness, all things fears. 
Earth, seas, and air, heaven, darkness, broad daylight. 
Rumour and silence and his very shade ; 70 

And what an aspen soul hath such a creature 1 
How dangerous to his soul is such a fear ! 
In whose cold fits is all heaven's justice shaken 
To his faint thoughts, and all the goodness there. 
Due to all good men by the gods' own vows, 75 

Nay, by the firmness of their endless being ; 
All which shall faO as soon as any one 
Good to a good man in them, for his goodness 
Proceeds from them, and is a beam of theirs. 
O never more, Statilius, may this fear 80 

Taint thy bold bosom for thyself or friend. 
More tiian the gods are fearful to defend. 

Ath* Come, let him go, Statilius, and your fright ; 
This man hath inward guard past your young sight. 

Exeunt [Fortius, Athenodorus and Statilius] 

Enter Minutius, manet Cato 

Cato. Welcome ; come stand by me in what is fit 85 

For our poor city's safety, noiP respect 
Her proudest foe's corruptfton, or our danger 


Of wlMLt seen face soever. 

Mim. I am yours. 

But what» alas, sir, can the weakness do, 
Aicainst our whole state, of us only two ? 90 

Voo know our statists' spirits are so corrupt 
And servile to the greatest, that what crossetii 
Them or their own particular wealth or honour 
They will not enterprise to save the Empire. 

Ciito, I know it, yet let us do like ourselves. Ex&utU 95 

The Forum, before the Temple of Castor and PoiluxJ 

Enter some bearing axes, bundles of rods, bare, before two Consuls ; 
Caesar and Metellus, Antony and Marcellus, in couples ; 
Senators, People, Soldiers, etc,, following. The Consuls 
enter the degrees with Antony and MarceUus, Caesar staying 
awhile without with Metellus, who hath a paper in his hand, 
Cas, [aside to Metellus]. Move you for entering only 
Pompey's army ; 
Which if you gain for him, for me all justice 
Will join with my request of entering mine. 
Met. [aside to Caesar]. 'Tis like so, and I purpose to 

enforce it. 
Cas, But might we not win Cato to our friendship 5 

By honouring speeches nor persuasive gifts ? 
Met, Not possible I 

Cas, Nor by enforcive usage ? 

Met, Not all the violence that can be us'd 
Of power or set authority can stir him. 

Much less fair words win or rewards corrupt him ; 10 

And therefore all means we must use to keep him 
From oft the Bench. 

Cas, Give you the course for that; 

And if he offer entry, I have fellows 
Will serve your will on him at my given signal. 

They ascend 

Enter Pompey, Gabinius, Vibius, Demetrius, with papers. Enter 
the lists, ascend and sit, A fter whom enter Cato, Minutius, 
Aihenodorus, Statilius, Fortius. 

Cato, He is the man that sits so close to Caesar, 15 

And holds the law there, whispering ; see the coward 


Hath guards oi arm'd men got, against one naked : 
111 part their whispering virtue. 

list at,'] Hold, keep out I 

2[ni Cft/]. What, honoured Cato ? Enter, choose thy place. 

Cato [To kis friends,'] Come in. 
He draws him in and sits betwixt Caesar and Metellus 

Away, unworthy grooms. 

S[rd at]. No morel 20 

Cas, What should one say to him ? 

Met. He will be stoical. 

Cato. Where fit place is not given, it must be taken. 

4[th Cit.] Do, take it, Cato ; fear no greatest of them i 
Thou seek'st the people's good, and these their own. 

S[th Cit] Brave Cato t What a countenance he puts on 1 25 
Let's give his noble wiU our utmost power. 

6lth Cit,] Be bold in all thy will ; for being just, 
Thou mayst defy the gods. 

Cato, Said like a god. 

Met. We must endure these people. 

CiBs. Do ; begin. 

Met. [rising]. Consuls, and reverend Fathers, and ye 
people, 30 

Whose voices are the voices of the gods, 
I here have drawn a law, by good consent. 
For ent'ring into Italy the army 
Of Rome's great Pompey, that, his forces here 
As well as he, great Rome may rest secure 35 

From danger of the yet stiU smoking fire 
Of Catiline's abhorr'd conspiracy: 
Of which the very chief are left ahve. 
Only chastis'd but with a gentle prison. 

Cato. Put them to death, then, and strike dead our fear, 40 
That well you urge, by their unfit survival 
Rather than keep it quick, and two lives give it 
By entertaining Pompey's army too, 
That gives as great cause of our fear as they. 
For their conspiracy only was to make 45 

One tyrant over all the state of Rome; 
And Pompey-s army, sufEer'd to be enter'd. 
Is to make him, or give him means to be so. 

Met. It follows not 

Cato. In purpose clearly, sir, 


Which I'll iUnstrate with a clear example. 50 

If it be day, the sun's above the earth ; 

Which follows not (you'll answer) for 'tis day 

When first the morning breaks, and yet is thm 

The body of the sun beneath the earth ; 

But he is virtually above it too, 55 

Because his beams are there ; and who then knows not 

His golden body wiU soon after mount. 

So Pompe3r's army enter'd Italy, 

Yet Pompey's not in Rome ; but Pbmpey's beams 

Who sees not there ? And consequently he 60 

Is in all means enthron'd in th' empery. 

Met. Examples prove not ; we will have the army 
Of Pompey enter'd. 

Caio. We ? Which * we ' intend you ? 

Have you already bought the people's voices ? 
Or besir our Consuls or our Senate here 65 

So small love to their country, that their wills 
Beyond their countr3r's right are so perverse 
To give a tyrant here entire command ? 
Which I have prov'd as clear as day they do. 
If either the conspirators surviving 70 

Be let to live, or Pompey's army enter'd ; 
Both which beat one sole path and threat one danger. 

Cas. Consuls, and honour'd Fathers, the sole entry 
Of Pompey's army I'll not yet examine ; 
But for the great conspirators yet living, 75 

(Which Cato will conclude as one self danger 
To our dear country, and deter all, therefore. 
That love their country from their lives' defence) 
I see no reason why such danger hangs 

On their sav'd lives, being still safe kept in prison ; 80 

And since close prison to a Roman freedom 
Tenfold torments more than diiectest death. 
Who can be thought to love the less his country, 
That seeks to save their lives ? And lest myself 
(Thus speaking for them) be unjustly touch'd 85 

With any less doubt of my country's love. 
Why, reverend Fathers, may it be esteem'd 
Self-praise in me to prove myself a chief. 
Both in my love of her and in desert 

Of her like love in me ? For he that does 90 

Most honour to his mistress well may boast. 



Without least qae8tk>n» that he loves her most. 

And though things long since done were long since known. 

And so may seem superfluous to repeat, 

Yet being forgotten, as things never done, 95 

Their repetition needful is, in justice, 

T'inflame the shame of that oblivion : 

For, hoping it will seem no less impair 

To others' acts to truly tell mine own. 

Put all together, I have pass'd them all 100 

That by their acts can boast themselves to be 

Their countr3r's lovers : first, in those wild kingdoms 

Subdu'd to ^me by my unwearied toils. 

Which I dissavag'd and made nobly civil; 

Next, in the multitude of those rude realms X05 

That so I fashion'd, and to Rome's young Empire 

Of old have added ; then the battles number'd 

This hand hath fought and won for her, with all 

Those infinites of dreadful enemies 

I slew in them — ^twice fifteen hundred thousand no 

(All able soldiers) I have driven at once 

Before my forces, and in sundry onsets 

A thousand thousand of them put to sword — 

Besides, I took in less than ten years' time 

By strong assault above eight hundred cities, 115 

Three hundred several nations in that space 

Subduing to my country ; all which service, 

I trust, may interest me in her love. 

Public, and general enough, to acquit me ' ' 

Of any self-love, past her common good, 120 

For any motion of particular justice 

(By which her general empire is maintain'd) 

That I can make for those accused prisoners. 

Which is but by the way ; that so the reason 

Metellus makes for entering Pompey's army, 125 

May not more weighty seem than to agree 

With those imprison'd nobles' vital safeties; 

Which granted, or but yielded fit to be, 

May well extenuate the necessity 

Of ent'ring Pompey's army. 

Cato. All that need 130 

I took away before, and reasons gave 
For a necessity to keep it out, 
Whose entry, I think, he himself afEects not, 


Since, I as well think, he affects not th' Empire, 

And both those thoughts hold ; since he loves his country, 135 

In my great hopes of him, too well to seek 

EQs sole rule of her, when so many souls 

So hard a task approve it ; nor my hopes 

Of his sincere love to his country build 

On sandier grounds than Ceesar's ; since he can 140 

As good cards show for it as Caesar did. 

And quit therein the close aspersion 

Of his ambition, seeking to employ 

His army in the breast of Italy. 
Pom. Let me not thus (imperial Bench and Senate) 145 

Feel myself beat about the ears, and toss'd 

With others' breaths to any coast they please ; 

And not put some stay to my errors in them. ;! '" 

The gods can witness that not my amlntion 

Hath brought to question th' entry of my army, 150 

And therefore not suspected the efiect 

Of which Hiat entry is suppos'd the cause. 

Which is a will in me to give my power 

The rule of Rome's sole Empire ; Hiat most strangely 

Would put my will in others' powers, and powers 155 

(Unforfeit by my fault) in others' wills. 

My self-love, out of which all this must rise, 

I will not wrong the known proofs of my love 

To this my native city's public good 

To quit or think of; nor repeat those -proofs, 160 

Con&rm'd in those three triumphs I have made 

For conquest of the whole inhabited world. 

First Afric, Europe, and then Asia, 
^ Which never Consul but myself could boast. 
I Nor can blind Fortune vaunt her partial hand 165 

In any part of all my services — 

Thou^ some have said she was the page of CaBsar, 

Both sailing, marching, fighting, and preparing 

His fights in very order of his battles ; 

The parts she jflsLyd for him inverting nature, 170 

As giving calmness to th' enraged sea. 

Imposing summer's weather on stem winter. 

Winging the slowest foot he did command. 

And his most coward making fierce of hand ; 

And all this ever when the force of man 175 

Was quite exceeded in it all, and she 


In th' instant adding her clear deity — 

Yet her for me I both disclaim and scorn, 

And where all fortune is renounc'd, no reason 

Will think one man transferred with afEectation 180 

Of all Rome's empire, for he must have fortune, 

That goes beyond a man ; and where so many 

Their handfuls find with it, the one is mad 

That undergoes it ; and where that is clear'd, 

Th' imputed means to it, which is my suit 185 

For entry of mine army, I confute. 

Caio. What rests then, this of all parts being disclaimed ? 

Mst. My part, sir, rests, that, let great Pompey bear 
What spirit he lists, 'tis needful yet for Rome 
That this law be establish'd for his army. 190 

Cas. 'Tis then as needful to admit in mine ; 
Or else let both lay down our arms, for else 
To take my charge off, and leave Pompey his. 
You wrong^hilly accuse me to intend 

A tyranny amongst ye, and shall give 195 

Pompey full means to be himself a tyrant. 

AnL Can this be answer'd ? 

15^ Con, Is it then your wills 

That Pompey shall cease arms ? 

Ant. What else ? 

Omnes. No, not 

2nd Con. Shall Caesar cease his arms ? 

Onm0s, Ay, ay I 

Ant. For shame 1 

Then 3deld to this clear equity, that both 200 

May leave their arms. 

Omnes, We indifferent stand. 

Met. Read but this law, and you shall see a difference 
'Twixt equity and your indifferency. 
All men's objections answer'd ; read it, notary. 

Cato. He shall not read it. 

Met. I will read it then. 205 

Min. Nor thou shalt read it, being a thing so vain. 
Pretending cause for Pompeyes army's entry. 
That only by thy complices and thee 
'Tis forg'd to set the Senate in an uproar. 

[He snatches the biU] 

Met. I have it, sir, in memory, and will speak it. 210 

Cato. Thou shalt be dumb as soon. 


Cas, PuU down this Cato, 

Anthor of factions, and to prison with him. He draws, 

ISetMte,] Come down, sir I and all draw 

Pom. Hence, ye mercenary ruffians I 

1st Con. What outrage show you ? Sheathe your insol^it 
Or be proclaimed your country's foes and traitors. 215 

Pom. How insolent a part was tiiis in you, 
To offer the imprisonment of Cato, 
When there is right in him (were form so answer'd 
With terms and place) to send us both to prison, 
If of our own ambitions we should ofier 220 

Th' entry of our armies ? For who knows 
That, of us both, the best friend to his country 
And freest from his own particular ends 
(Being in his power), would not assume the Empire, 
And having it, could rule the State so well 225 

As now 'tis govem'd for the conmion good ? 

Cas. Accuse yourself, sir (if your conscience urge it). 
Or of ambition, or corruption. 
Or iosuffidency to rule the Empire, 
And sound not me with your lead. 230 

Pom. Lead ? 'Tis gold. 

And spirit of gold too, to the politic dross 
With which false Caesar sounds men, and for which 
His praise and honour crowns them ; who sounds not 
The inmost sand of Caesar, for but sand 

Is all the rope of your great parts a£Eected ? 235 

You speak well, and are leam'd ; and golden speech 
Did Nature never give man but to gild 
A copper soul in him ; and all that learning 
That heartily is spent in painting speech. 
Is merely painted, and no solid knowledge. 240 

But y'ave another praise for temperance. 
Which nought commends your free choice to be temperate. 
For so you must be, at least in your meals. 
Since y'ave a malady that ties you to it 
For fear of daily falls in your aspirings ; 245 

And your disease the gods ne'er gave to man 
But such a one as had a spirit too great 
For all his body's passages to serve it ; 
Which notes th' excess of your ambition. 
The malady chancing where the pores and passages 250 



Through which the spirit of a man is borne 

So narrow are, and strait, that oftentimes 

They intercept it quite, and choke it up ; 

And yet because the greatness of it notes 

A heat mere fleshly, and of blood's rank fire, 255 

Goats are of all beasts subject'st to it most. 

Cas. Yourself might have it, then, if those faults* cause it ; 
But deals this man ingenuously to tax 
Men with a frailty that the gods inflict ? 

Pom. The gods inflict on men diseases never, \ 260 

Or other outward maims, but to decipher. 
Correct, and order some rude vice within them 
And why decipher they it, but to make 
Men note, and shun, and tax it to th' extreme ? 
Nor will I see my country's hopes abus'd 265 

In any man commanding in her Empire, 
If my more trial of him makes me see more 
Into his intricacies, and my freedom 
Hath spirit to speak more than observers servile. 

CcBS, Be free, sir, of your insight and your speech, 270 
And speak and see more than the world besides; 
I must remember I have heard of one. 
That fame gave out could see through oak and stone, 
And of another set in Sicily 

That could discern the Carthaginian navy, 275 

And number them distinctly, leaving harbour. 
Though full a day and night's sail distant thence. 
But these things, reverend Fathers, I conceive 
Hardly appear to you worth grave belief : 
And 'dierefore since such strange things have been seen 280 
In my so deep and foul detractions. 
By only lyncean Pompey (who was most 
Lov'd and believ'd of Rome's most famous whore. 
Infamous Flora), by so fine a man 

As Galba, or Sarmentns, any jester 285 

Or flatterer, may draw through a lady's ring, 
By one that all his soldiers call in scorn 
Great Agamemnon or the king of men, 
I rest unmov'd with him ; and yield to you 
To right my wrongs, or his abuse allow. 290 

Caio. My lords, ye make all Rome amaz'd to hear. 

Pom. Away, I'll hear no more ; I hear it thnnder. 
My lords, all you that love the good of Rome, 

CD.W, A A 


I charge ye, follow me ; all snch as stay 

Are friends to Caesar and their country's foes. 295 

Cas. Th' event will fall out contrary, my lords. 

1st Con. [to Casar], Go, thou art a thief to Rome ; 
discharge thine army, 
Or be proclaim'd forthwith her open foe. 

2nd Con. Pompey, I charge thee, help thy injur'd country 
With what powers thou hast arm'd, and levy more. 300 

The Ruffians. War, war, O Caesar I 

Senate and People. Peace, peace, worthy Pompey ! 


[Before the Walls of Rome] 

Enter Pronto, all ragged, in an overgrown red beard, black head, 
with a halter in his hand, looking about 

Fron. Wars, wars, and presses fly in fire about ; 
No more can I lurk in my lazy comers 
Nor shifting courses, and with honest means 
To rack my miserable life out more — 

The rack is not so fearful ; when dishonest ^ 

And villainous fashions fail me, can I hope 
To live with virtuous, or to raise my fortunes 
By creeping up inl soldierly degrees ? 
Since villainy, varied thorough all his figures. 
Will put no better case on me than this, iq 

Despair, come seize me 1 I had able means. 
And spent all in the swinge of lewd affections, 
Plung'd in all riot and the rage of blood, 
In full assurance that being knave enough, 
Barbarous enough, base, ignorant enough, j^ 

I needs must have enough, while this world lasted ; 
Yet, since I am a poor and ragged knave, 
My rags disgrace my knavery so that none 
Will think I am [a] knave ; as if good clothes 
Were knacks to know a knave, when all men know 20 

He has no living ; which knacks since my knavery 
Can show no more, and only show is all 
That this world cares for, I'll step out of all 
The cares 'tis steep'd in. He offers to hang himself 


Thunder, and the gulf opens, flames issuing, and Ophioneus 
ascending, with the face, wings, and tail of a dragon ; a shin 
coat all speckled on the throat 

Oph, Hold, rascal, hang th3r8elf in these days ? The only i 25 
time that ever was for a rascal to live in 1 | 

Fron, How chance I cannot live then ? 

Oph. Either th'art not rascal nor villain enough; or 
else thou dost not pretend honesty and piety enough to 
disguise it. 

Fron. That's certain, for every ass does that. What art 

Oph. A villain worse than thou. 

Fron. And dost breathe ? 

Oph. I speak, thou hear'st ; I move, my pulse beats fast 35 
as thine. 

Fron. And wherefore liv'st thou ? 

Oph. The woild's out of frame, a thousand rulers wresting | 
it this way and that, with as many religions ; when, as I 
heaven's upper sphere is moved only by one, so should the! 40 
sphere of earth be, and I'll have it so. \ 

Fron. How canst thou ? What art thou ? 

Oph. My shape may tell thee. 

Fron. No man ? 

Oph. Man I No, spawn of a clot 1 None of that cursed 45 
crew, damned in the mass itself, plagued in his birth, confined 
to creep below, and wrestle with the elements, teach himself 
tortures, kill himself, hang himself; no such galley-slave, 
but at war with heaven, spuming the power of the gods, 
command[ing] the elements. 50 

Fron. What may'st thou be, then ? 

Oph. An endless friend of thine, an immortal devil. 

Fron. Heaven bless us 1 

Oph. Nay, then, forth, go, hang thyself, and thou talk'st 
of heaven once! 55 

Fron. I have done : what devil art thou ? 

Oph. Read the old stoic Pherecides that tells thee me 
truly, and says that I,. Ophioneus (for so is my name) — 

Fron. Ophioneus ? . What's that ? 

Oph. Devilish serpeat by interpretation — ^was general ^ 
captain of that rebellious host of spirits that waged war 
with heaven. 

Fron. And so were hurled down to. hell. 


Oph, We were so, and yet have the rule of earth ; and 
cares any man for the worst of hell, then ? 65 

Fron. Why should he ? 

Oph, Well said 1 What's thy name now ? 

Ffon, My name is Pronto. 

Oph. Pronto ? A good one ; and has Ftonto lived 
thus long in Rome, lost his state at dice, murthered his 70 
brother for his means, spent all, run thorough worse offices 
since, been a promoter, a purveyor, a pander, a sunmer, a 
sergeant, an intelligencer, and at last hang thjrself ? 

Fron, [aside] How the devil knows he all this ? 

Oph. Why, thou art a most green plover in policy, I per- 75 
ceive ; and mayst drink colts-foot, for all thy horse-mane 
beard : 'slight, what need hast thou to hang thyself, as if 
there were a dearth of hangmen in the land ? Thou liv'st 
in a good cheap state ; a man may be hanged here for a little 
or nothing. What's the reason of thy desperation ? 80 

Fron. My idle, dissolute life is thrust out of all his comers 
by this searching tumult now on foot in Rome. 

♦ ♦ ♦ Caesar now and Pompey 

Are both for battle : Pompey (in his fear 

Of Caesar's greater force) is sending hence 85 

His wife and children, and he bent to fly. 

Enter Pompey running over the stage with his wife and children, 
Gabinius, Demetrius, Vibius, Pages ; other Senators, the 
Consuls and all following. 

See, all are on their wings, and all the city r- 

In such an uproar, as if fire and sword 

Were ransacking and ruining their houses ; 

No idle person now can lurk near Rome, 90 

All must to arms, or shake their heels beneath 

Her martial halters, whose officious pride 

I'll shun, and use mine own swinge : I be forc'd 

To help my country, when it forceth me 

To this past-helping pickle 1 95 

Oph. Go to, thou Shalt serve me ; choose thy profession, 
and what cloth thou wouldst wish to have thy coat cut out on. 

Fron. I can name none. 

Oph. Shall I be thy learned counsel ? loo 

Fron. None better. 

Oph. Be an archflamen, then, to one of the gods, 

Fron. Archflamen ! What's that ? 


Oph, A priest. 

Fron. A priest, that ne'er vras derk ? 

Oph, No clerk ! what then ? 105 

The greatest clerks are not the vdsest men. | 

Nor skills it for degrees in a knave or a fool's preferment ; j 
thou shalt rise by fortune : let desert rise leisurely enough, and I 
by degrees ; fortune prefers headlong, and comes like riches to I 
a man; huge riches being got with little pains, and littler 10 
with huge pains. And for discharge of the priesthood, 
what thou want'st in learning thou shalt take out in good- 
fello¥rship ; thou shalt equivocate with the sof^iister, prate 
with the lawyer, scrape with the usurer, drink with the 
Dutchman, swear with the Frenchman, cheat with the 115 
Englishman, brag with the Scot, and turn all this to religion : 
Hoc est regnum Deorum gentibus. 

Fron, All this I can do to a hair. 

Oph. Very good ; wilt thou show thyself deeply learned 
too, and to live licentiously here, care for nothing hereafter ? 120 

Fron, Not for hell ? 

Oph. For hell ? Soft, sir ; hop'st thou to purchase hell 
with only dicing or whoring away thy living, murthering thy 
brother, and so forth ? No, there remain works of a higher 
hand and deeper brain to obtain heU. Think'st thou earth's 125 
great potentates have gotten their places there with any single 
act of murther, poisoning, adultery, and the rest ? No ; 'tis 
a purchase for all manner of villainy, especially that may 
be privileged by authority, colour^ with htrftness, and 
enjo3red with pleasure. 130 

Fron, O this were most honourable and admirable ! 

Oph, Why such an admirable, honourable villain shalt 
thou be. 

Fron. Is't possible ? 

Oph. Make no doubt on't ; I'll inspire thee. 135 

Fron. Sacred and puissant t He kneels 

Oph, Away 1 Companion and friend, give me thy hand ; 
say, dost not love me, art not enamouited of my acquain- 
tance ? 

Fron, Protest I ami 140 

Oph, Well said ; protest, and 'tis enough. And know lor 
infallible, I have promotion for thee, both here and hereafter, 
which not one great one amongst millions shall ever aspire 
to. Alexander nor great Cyrva retain those titles in hell 
that they did on earth. 145 


Fron. No ? 

Oph. No 1 He that sold sea-coal here shall be a baron 
there ; he that was a cheatmg rogue here shall be a justice 
of peace there ; a knave here, a knight there. In the mean 
space learn what it is to hve, and thou shalt have chopines 150 
at commandment to any height of life thou canst wish. 

Frtrtu I fear my fall is too low. 

Oph. Too low« f ool ? Hast thou not heard of Vulcan's 
falling out of heaven ? Light o' thy legs, and no matter though 
thou halt'st with thy best friend ever after; 'tis the more 155 
comely and fashi<xiable. Better go lame in the fashion with 
Pompey, than never so upright, quite out of the fashion, 
with Cato. 

Fron, Yet you cannot change the old fashion, they say, 
and hide your cloven feet. 160 

Oph. No ? I can wear roses that shall spread quite over 

Fron, For love of the fashion, do, then. 

Oph, Go to ! I will hereafter. 

Fron, But, for the priesthood you ofier me, I affect it not. 165 

Oph, No ? What say'st thou to a rich office, then ? 

Fron, The only second means to raise a rascal in the earth. 

Oph, Go to ; I'll help thee to the best i' th' earth, then, 
and that's in Sicilia, the very storehouse of the Romans, 
where the Lord Chief Censor there lies now a^d3nng, whose 170 
soul I will have, and thou shalt have his office. 

Fron, Excellent 1 Was ever great office better supplied ? 



Enter Nuntius] 

Nuntius, Now is the mighty Empress of the earth, 
Great Rome, fast lock'd up in her fancied strength. 
All broke in uproars, fearing the just gods 
In plagues will drown her so abused blessings ; 
In which fear, all without her walls, fly in, 5 

By both their jarring champions rushing out ; 
And those that were within as fast fly forth ; 
The Consuls both are fled, without one rite 
Of sacrifice submitted to the gods. 

As ever heretofore their custom was 10 

W^en they began the bloody frights of war : 


In which our two great soldiers now encountering, 

Since both left Rome, oppos'd in bitter skirmish, 

Pompey (not willing yet to hazard battle. 

By Cato's counsel urging good cause) fled ; 15 

Which firing Caesar's spirit, he pursu'd 

So home and fiercely, that great Pompey, scorning 

The heart he took by his advised flight, 

Despis'd advice as much as his pursuit. 

And as in Lybia an aged lion, 20 

Urg'd from his peaceful covert, fears the light, 

With his unready and diseas'd appearance, 

Gives way to chase' awhile and coldly hunts. 

Till with the youthful hunter's wanton heat 

He all his cool wrath frets into a flame ; 23 

And then his sides he swinges with his stem 

To lash his strength up, lets down all his brows 

About his burning eyes, erects his mane, 

Breaks all his throat in thunders, and to wreak 

His hunter's insolence his heart even barking, 3^ 

He frees his fury, turns, and rushes back 

With such a ghastly horror that in heaps 

His proud foes fly, and he that station keeps : 

So Pompey's cool spirits put to all their heat 

By Caesar's hard pursuit, he tum'd fresh head, 35 

And flew upon his foe with such a rapture 

As took up into furies all friends' fears ; 

Who, fir'd with his first turning, all tum'd head. 

And gave so fierce a charge their followers fled ; 

Whose instant issue on their both sides, see, 40 

And after, set out such a tragedy 

As all the princes of the earth may come 

To take their patterns by the spirits of Rome. 

[Exit Nuntius] 


A Battlefield near Dyrrhachium] 

Alarm, after which enter Caesar, following Crassinius calling to 

the Soldiers 

Cras. Stay, foolish coward[s] I Fly ye Caesar's fortunes ? 
Cas. Forbear, Crassinius ; we contend in vain 
To stay these vapours, and must raise our camp. 


Cras. How shall we rise, my lord, but all in nproars. 
Being still pursu'd ? 

Enter Acilius 

[^^7.] The pursuit stays, my lord ; 5 

Pompey hath sounded a retreat, resigning 
His time to you, to use in instant raising 
Your ill-lodg'd army, pitching now where Fortune 
May good amends make for her fault to-day. 

Cas. It was not Fortune's fault, but mine, Acilius, 10 

To give my foe charge, being so near the sea. 
Where well I knew the eminence of his strraigth. 
And should have driven th' encounter further off. 
Bearing before me such a goodly country. 
So plentiful and rich, in all things fit 15 

To have supplied my army's want with victuals. 
And th' able cities, too, to strengthen it. 
Of Macedon and Thessaly, where now 
I rather was besieg'd for want of food, 
Than did assault with fighting force of arms. 20 

Enter Antony, Vibius, with others 

Ant, See, sir, here's one friend of your foes recovered. 

Cas. Vibius ? In happy hour I 

Vib, For me, unhappy 1 

Cces. What, brought against your will ? 

Vib, Else had not come. 

Ant. Sir, he's your prisoner, but had made you his 
Had all the rest pursu'd the chase like him ; 25 

He drave on like a fury, past all friends 
But we, that took him quick in his engagement. 

Cas, O Vibius, you deserve to pay a ransom 
Of infinite rate ; for had your general join'd 
In your addression, or known how to conquer, 30 

This day had prov'd him the supreme of Csesar. 

Vib, Known how to conquer ? His five hundred con- 
Achiev'd ere this day make that doubt unfit 
For him that flies him ; for, of issues doubtful. 
Who can at all times put on for the best ? 35 

If I were mad, must he his army venture 
In my engagement ? Nor are generals ever 
Their powers' disposers by their proper angels 


But tmst against them, oftentimes, their councils. 

Wherein, I doubt not, Caesar's self hath err'd 40 

Sometimes, as well as Pompey. 

CcBs. Or done worse, 

In disobeying my council, Vibius ; 
Of which this day's abused light is witness, 
By which I might have seen a course secure 
Of this discomfiture. 

Ani, Amends sits ever 45 

Above repentance ; what's done, wish not undone ; 
But that prepared patience that, you know, 
Best fits a soldier charg'd with hardest fortunes. 
Asks still your use, since powers, still temperate kept. 
Ope still the clearer eyes by one fault's sight 50 

To place the next act in the surer right. 

Cas* You prompt me nobly, sir, repairing in me 
Mine own stay's practice, out of whose repose 
The strong convulsions of my spirits forc'd me 
Thus far beyond my temper : but, good Vibius, 55 

Be ransom'd with my love, and haste to Pompey, 
Entreating him from me that we may meet. 
And for that reason, which I know tiiis day 
Was given by Cato for his pursuit's stay, 
(Which was prevention of our Roman blood) 60 

PlDpose my offer of our hearty peace ; 
That being reconcil'd, and mutual faith 
Given on our either part, not three days' light 
May further show us foes, but (both our armies 
Dispers'd in garrisons) we may re torn 65 

Within that time to Italy, such friends 
As in our country's love contain our spleens. 

Vib. 'Tis offer'd, sir, above the rate of Csesar 
In other men, but, in what I approve, 

Beneath his merits ; which I wiU not fail 70 

T'enforce at full to Pompey, nor forget 
In any time the gratitude of my service. 

Vibius salutes Antony and the other and exit 

Cas. Your love, sir, and your frienjdshipl 
Ant, This piiepares 

A good induction to the change of Fortune 
In this day's issue, if the pride it kindles 75 

In Fbmpey's veins maked him deny a peace 
So gently ofEer'd; for her alter'd hand 


Works never surer from her ill to good 

On his side she hath hurt, and on the other 

With other changes, than when means are us'd 3o 

To keep her constant, yet retire refus'd. 

Cas, I try no such conclusion, but desire 
Directly peace. In m^an space, I'll prepare 
For other issue in my utmost means ; 

Whose hopes now resting at Brundusium, 85 

In that part of my army with Sabinus, 
I wonder he so long dela3rs to bring me. 
And must in person haste him, if this even 
I hear not from him. 

Cras. That, I hope, flies far 

Your full intent, my lord, since Pompey's navy, 90 

You know, lies hovering all alongst iiiose seas 
In too much danger, for what aid soever 
You can procure, to pass your person safe. 

Acil. Which doubt may prove the cause that stays 
Sabinus ; 
And, if with shipping fit to pass your army, 95 

He yet strains time to venture, I presume 

You will not pass your person with such convoy 

Of those poor vessels as may serve you here. 
C£8s» How shall I help it ? Shall I sufier this 

Torment of his delay, and rack suspicions 100 

Worse than assur'd destructions through my thoughts ? 
Ant. Past doubt he will be here : I left all order'd. 

And full agreement made with him to make 

All utmost haste, no least let once suspected. 

Cas, Suspected ? What suspect should fear a friend 105 

In such assur'd straits from his friend's enlargement ? 

If 'twere his soldiers' safeties he so tenders. 

Were it not better they should sink by sea, 

Than wrack their number, king, and cause, ashore ? 

Their stay is worth their ruin (should we Uve), no 

If they in fault were ; if their leader, he 

Should die the deaths of all. In mean space, I, 

That should not, bear all. Fly the sight in shame. 

Thou eye of Nature, and abortive Night 

Fall dead amongst us 1 With defects, defects 115 

Must serve proportion ; justice never can 

Be else restored, nor right the wrongs of man. Exsunt 



The Camp of Pompey] 

Pompey, Cato, Gabinius, Demetrius, Athenodonis, Portius, 


Pom, This charge of our fierce foe the friendly gods 
Have in our strengthen'd spirits beaten back 
With happy issue, and his forces lessen'd 
Of two and thirty ensigns forc'd from him. 
Two thousand soldiers slain. 

Caio, O boast not that ; 5 

Their loss is yours, my lord. 

Pom. I boast it not. 

But only name the number. 

Gab. Which right well 

You might have rais'd so high, that on their tops 
Your throne was ofier'd, ever t'overlook 

Subverted Caesar, had you been so blest 10 

To give such honour to your captains' counsels 
As their alacrities did long to merit 
V^th proof-ful action. 

Dem. O, 'twas ill neglected. 

Stat. It was deferr'd with reason, which not 3ret 
Th' event so clear is to confute. 

Pom. If 'twere, 15 

Our likeliest then was not to hazard battle, 
Th' adventure being so casual ; if compared 
With our more certain means to his subversion ; 
For finding now our army amply stor'd 

With all things fit to tarry surer time, 20 

Reason thought better to extend to length 
The war betwixt us, that his little strength 
May by degrees prove none ; which urged now 
(Consisting of his best and ablest soldiers) 
We should have found, at one direct set battle, 25 

Of matchless valours, their defects of victual 
Not tiring yet enough on their tough nerves ; 
Where, on the other part, to put them still 
In motion, and remotion, here and there. 
Enforcing them to fortifying still 30 

Wherever they set down, to siege a wall. 
Keep watch sdl night in armour — ^their most part 


Can never bear it, by their years' oppression. 
Spent heretofore too much in those steel toils. 

Cato» 1 so advis'd, and yet repent it not, 35 

But much rejoice in so much saved blood 
As had been pour'd out in the stroke of battle. 
Whose fury thus prevented, comprehends 
Your country's good and Empire's ; in whose care 
Let me beseech you that in all this war . 40 

You sack no city subject to our rule, 
Nor put to sword one citizen of Rome, 
But when the needful fury of the sword 
Can make no fit distinction in main battle ; 
That you will please still to prolong the stroke 45 

Of absolute decision to these jars. 
Considering you shall strike it with a man 
Of much skill and experience, and one 
That will his conquest sell at infinite rate, 
If that must end your difference ; but I doubt 50 

There will come humble o£Fer on his part 
Of honour'd peace to you, for whose sweet name 
So cried out to you in our late-met Senate, 
Los[e] no fit offer of that wished treaty. 

Take pity on your country's blood as much 55 

As possible may stand without the danger 
Of hindering her justice on her foes. 
Which all the gods to your full wish dispose. [goi^^ 

Pom. Why will you leave us ? Whither will you go 
To keep your worthiest person in more safety 60 

Than in my army, so devoted to you ? 

Cafo. My person is the least, my lord, I value ; 
I am commanded by our powerful Senate 
To view the cities and the kingdoms situate 
About your either army, that, which side 65 

Soever conquer, no disorder'd stragglers, 
Puff'd with the conquest, or by need impell'd. 
May take their swinge more than the care of one 
May curb and order in these neighbour confines ; 
My chief pass yet resolves for Utica. 70 

Pom, Your pass, my truest friend and worthy father. 
May all good powers make safe, and alwa}^ answer 
Your infinite merits with their like protection ; 
In which I make no doubt but we shall meet 
With mutual gieetingB, or for absolute conquest, 75 


Or peace preventing that our bloody stroke ; 

Nor let our parting be dishonour'd so 

As not to taJce into our noblest notice 

Yourself, [to Athenodoms] most learned and admired father, 

Whose merits, if I Uve, shall lack no honour. 80 

Fortius, Statilius, though your spirits with mine 

Would highly cheer om, yet ye shall bestow them 

In much more worthy conduct ; but lave me, 

And wish me conquest for 3rour country's sake. 

Stat. Our lives shall seal our loves, sir, with worst deaths 85 
Adventur'd in yx>ur service. 

Pom, Y'are my friends. 

Exeunt Cato, Athenodorus» Fortius, Statilius 
These friends thus gone, 'tis more than time we minded 
Our lost friend Vibius. 

Gab. You can want no friends ; 

See, our two Consuls, sir, betwixt them bringing 
The worthy Brutus. 

Enter two Consuls leading Brutus betwixt them 

ist Con. We attend, my lord, 90 

With no mean friend, to spirit your next encounter, 
Six thousand of our choice Patrician youths 
Brought in his conduct, 

2nd Con. And though never yet 

He hath saluted you with any word 

Or look of slenderest love in his whole life, 95 

Since that long time since of his father's death 
By your hand author'd ; yet, see, at your need 
He comes to serve you freely for his country. 

Pom, His friendly presence, making up a third 
With both your persons, I as gladly welcome 100 

As if Jove's triple flame had gilt this field. 
And lighten'd on my right hand from his shield. 

Brut. I well assure myself, sir, that no thought 
In your ingenuous construction touches 

At the aspersion that my tendered service 105 

Proceeds from my despair of elsewhere safety ; 
But that my country's safety, owning justly 
My whole abilities of life and fortunes. 
And you the ablest fautor of her safety. 

Her love, and (for your love of her) yowc own no 

Only makes sacred to your use my offering. 

Pom, Far fly all other thought from my construction 


And due acceptance of the liberal honour 

Your love hath done me, which the gods are witness 

I take as stirr'd up in you by their favours, 115 

Nor less esteem it than an offering holy ; 

Since, as of all things man is said the measure. 

So your full merits measure forth a man. 

15^ Con. See yet, my lord, more friends. 

2nd Con. Five kinp, yovac servants. 

Ent&r five Kings 

Iber. Conquest and all grace crown the gracious Pompey, 120 
To serve whom in the sacred Roman safety 
Myself, Iberia's king, present my forces. 

Thes. And I that hold the tributary throne 
Of Grecian Thessaly submit my homage 
To Rome and Pompey. 

Cic. So Cilicia too. 125 

Ep. And so Epirus. 

Thrace. Lastly, I from Thrace 

Present the duties of my power and service. 

Pom. Your royal aids deserve of Rome and Pompey 
Our utmost honours. O, may now our Fortune 
Not balance her broad breast 'twixt two light wings, 130 

Nor on a slippery globe sustain her steps ; 
But as the Spartans say the Paphian queen 
(The flood Eurotas passing) laid aside 
Her glass, her ceston, and her amorous graces. 
And in Lycurgus' favour arm'd her beauties 135 

With shield and javelin ; so may Fortune now. 
The flood of all our enemy's forces passing 
With her fair ensigns, and arriv'd at ours, 
Displume her shoulders, cast off her wing'd shoes. 
Her faithless and gtill-rolling stone spurn from her, 140 

And enter our powers, as she may remain 
Our firm assistant ; that the general aids. 
Favours, and honours you perform to Rome, 
May make her build with you her endless home. 

Omnes. The gods vouchsafe it, and our cause's right. 145 

Dem. What sudden shade is this ? Observe, my lords. 
The night, methinks, comes on before her hour. 

Thunder and lightning 

Gab. Nor trust me if my thoughts conceive not so. 


Brut. What thin clouds fly the ^vnnds, like swiftest shafts 
Along air's middle region ! 

ist Can. They presage 150 

Unusual tempests. 

2nd Con, And 'tis their repair 

That timeless darken thus the gloomy air. 

Pom. Let's force no omen from it, but avoid 
The vapours' furies now by Jove employ'd. 



The Bank of the River Anius] 

Thunder cowHnued^ and Caesar enters disguised 

[dss.] The wrathful tempest of the angry night. 
Where hell flies muffled up in clouds of pitch. 
Mingled with sulphur, and those dreadful bolts 
The Cyclops ram in Jove's artillery, 

Hath rous'd the Furies, arm'd in all their horrors, 5 

Up to the envious seas, in spite of Caesar. 
O night, O jealous night of all the noblest 
Beauties and glories, where the gods have stroke 
Their four digestions from thy ghastiy chaos. 
Blush thus to drown them all in this* hour, sign'd 10 

By the necessity of fate for Caesar. 
I, that have ransack'd all the world for worth 
To form in man the image of the gods, 
Must like them have the power to check the worst 
Of all things under their celestial empire, 15 

Stoop it, and burst it, or break through it all 
With use and safety ; till the crown be set 
On all my actions, that the hand of Nature, 
In all her worst works aiming at an end. 
May in a master-piece of hers be serv'd 20 

With tops and state fit for his virtuous crown ; 
Not lift arts thus far up in glorious frame 
To let them vanish thus in smoke and shame. 
This river Anius (in whose mouth now lies 
A pinnace I would pass in to fetch on 35 

My army's dull rest from Brundusium) 
That is at all times else exceeding calm 

By reason of a purling wind that flies 



Off from the shore each momiixg, driving up 

The billows far to sea, in this night yet 30 

Bears such a terrible gale, put off from sea. 

As beats the land-wind back, and thrusts the flood 

Up in such uproar that no boat dace stir. 

And on it is dispersed all Pompey's navy 

To make my peril yet more envious. 35 

Shall I 3^t shrink for all ? Were all yet more. 

There is a certain need that I must give 

Way to my pass ; none known that I must live. 

Enter Master of a ship with Sailors 

Mast. What battle is there fought now in the air 
That threats the wrack of nature ? 

Cas. Master, comet 40 

Shall we thrust through it all ? 

Mast What lost man 

Art thou in hopes and fortunes, that dar'st make 
So desperate a motion ? 

C£8s, Launch, man, and all thy fears' freight disavow ; 
Thou carriest Caesar and his fortunes now. [Exeunt] 45 

[The Camp of Pompey] 

Pompey, two Consuls, five Kings, Brutus, Gabimus, Demetrius 

[Pom.] Now to Fharsalia, where the smarting strokes 
Of our resolv'd contention must resound. 
My lords and friends of Rome, I give you all 
Such welcome as the spirit of all my fortunes, 
Conquests, and triumphs (now come for their crown) 5 

Can crown your favours with, and serve the hopes 
Of my dear country to her utmost wish : 
I can but set up all my being to give 
So good an end ^ my forerunning acts, 

The powers in me that form'd them having lost 10 

No least time since in gathering skill to better. 
But, like so many bees, have brought me home 
The sweet of whatsoever flowers have grown 
In aU the meads and gardens of the world. 
All which hath grown still, as the time increas'[dj 15 


In which 'twas gathered, and with which it stemmed. 

That what decay soever blood inferred, 

Might with my mind's store be suppUed and cheer'd : 

All which, in one fire of this instant fight, 

I'll bum and sacrifice to every cinder 30 

In sacred offering to my country's love ; 

And, therefore, what event soever sort. 

As I no praise will look for, but the good 

Freely b^tow on all (if good succeed) 

So if adverse fate fall, I wish no blame, ^5 

But th' iU befall'n me made my fortune's shame, 

Not mine, nor my fault. 

1st Con. We too well love Pompey 

To do him that injustice. 

Brut, Who more thirsts 

The conquest than resolves to bear the foil ? 

Pom. Said Brutus-Hke ! Give several witness all, 30 

That you acquit me whatsoever fall. 

2nd Con. Particular men particular fates must bear : 
Who feels his own wounds less to wound another ? 

Thes. Leave him the worst whose best is left undone. 
He only conquers whose mind still is one. 35 

Ep. Free minds, like dice, fall square whate'er the cast. 
Iber. Who on himself sole stands, stands solely fast. 
Thrace. He's never down whose mind fights stiU aloft. 
Cil. Who cares for up or down, when all's but thought ? 
Gab. To things' events doth no man's power eictend. 40 
Dem. Since gods rule all, who an3rthing would mend ? 
Pom. Ye sweetly ease my charge, yourselves unburthen- 
Retum'd not yet our trumpet, sent to know 
Of Vibius' certain state ? 

Gab. Not yet, my lord. 

Pont. Too long protract we all means to recover 45 

His person quick or dead ; for I still think 
His loss serv'd fate before we blew retreat, 
Though some afi&rm him seen soon after fighting. 
Dem. Not after, sir, I heard, but ere it ended. 
Gab, He bore a great mind to extend our pursuit 50 

Much further than it was ; and serv'd that day 
(When )^u had, like the true head of a battle. 
Led all the body in that glorious turn) 
Upon a far-off squadron that stood fast 

C.WJ>. B B 


In condact of the great Mark Antony 55 

When all the rest were fled» so past a man 

That in their tough receipt of him I saw him 

Thrice break through all with ease, and pass as fair 

As he had all been fire, and they but air. 
Pom, He stuck at last, yet, in their midst it seem'd. 60 

Gab, So have I seen a fire-drake glide at midnight 

Before a dying man to point his grave, 

And in it stick and hide. 

Dem, He comes yet safe. 

A Trumpet sounds, and enters before Vibius, with others 

Pom. O Vibius, welcome ; what, a prisoner 
With mighty Cassar, and so quickly ransom'd ? 65 

Vib, Ay, sir ; my ransom needed little time 
Either to gain agreement for the value, 
Or the disbursement, since in Caesar's grace 
We both concluded. 

Pom. Was his grace so free ? 

Vib. For your respect, sir. 

Pom. Nay, sir, for his glory; 70 

That the main conquest he so surely builds on 
(Which ever is forerun with petty fortunes) 
Take not effect by taking any friend 
Ftom all the most my poor defence can make. 
But must be complete by his perfect own. 75 

Vib. I know, sir, you more nobly rate the freedom 
He freely gave your friend than to pervert it 
So past his wisdom, that knows much too well 
Th' uncertain state of conquest, to raise frames 
Of such presumption on her fickle wings, 80 

And chiefly in a loss so late and grievous ; 
Besides, your forces far exceeding his. 
His whole powers being but two and twenty thousand. 
And yours full four and forty thousand strong : 
For all which yet he stood as far from fear 85 

In my enlargement, as the confident glory 
You please to put on him, and had this end 
In my so kind dismission, that as kindly 
I might solicit a sure peaoe betwixt you. 

Pom. A peace I Is't possible ? 

Vib. Come, do not show 90 

This wanton incredulity too much. 


Pom. Believe me I was far fr6m such a thought 
In his high stomach : Cato prophesied then. 
What think my lords our Consuls, and friend Brutus ? 

[Both Consids] An offer happy I 

BruL Were it plain and hearty. 95 

Pont. Ay» there's the true inspection to his prospect. 

Brut, This strait of his perhaps may need a sleight 
Of some hid stratagem to bring him off. 

Pom. Devices of a new forge to entrap me 1 
I rest in Caesar's shades, walk his strow'd paths, 100 

Sleep in his quiet waves ? I'll sooner trust 
Hibernian bogs and quicksands, and Hell mouth 
Take for my sanctuary: in bad parts. 
That no extremes will better, Nature's finger 
Hath mark'd him to me to take heed of him. 105 

What thinks my Brutus ? 

Brut. 'Tis your best and safest. 

Pom. This offer'd peace of his is sure a snare 
To make our war the bloodier, whose fit fear 
Makes me I dare not now, in thoughts maturer 
Than late inclin'd me, put in use the counsel no 

Your noble father Cato, parting, gave me. 
Whose much too tender shunning innocent blood 
This battle hazards now, that must cost more. 

15/ Con. It does, and therefore now no more defer it. 

Pom. Say all men so ? 

Omnes. We do! 

Pom, I grieve ye do. 115 

Because I rather wish to err with Ca|o 
Than with the truth go of the world besides ; 
But since it shaU abide this other stroke. 
Ye gods, that our great Roman Genius 

Have made not give us one day's conquest only, 120 

Nor grow in conquests for some little time. 
As did the Genius of the Macedons, 
Nor be by land great only, like Laconians', 
Nor yet by sea alone, as was th' Athenians', 
Nor slowly stirr'd up, like the Persian angel, 125 

Nor rock'd asleep soon, like the Ionian spirit ; 
But made our Roman Genius fiery, watchful. 
And even from Rome's piK&ne join'd his youth with hers. 
Grow as she grew, and firm as earth abide 
By her increasing pomp at sea and shore, 130 


In t>eace, in battle, against Greece as well 
As our barbarian foes ; command yet further. 
Ye fir^n and just gods, our assistful angel 
For Rome and Ponipey, who now fights for Rome, 
.That aU these royal laws to ns, and justice 135 

Of common safety, may the self-love drown 
Of tyrannous Caesar, and my care for all 
Your altars crown with endless festival. 



The Camp of Caesar] 
Caesar, Antony, a Soothsayer, Crassinius, Acilius, with others 

Cas. Say, sacred Soothsayer, and inform the truth. 
What liking hast thou of our sacrifice ? 

Sooth* Imperial Caesar, at yx>ur sacred charge 
I drew a milk-white oz into the temple. 
And turning there his face into the east 5 

(Fearfully shaking at the shining light) 
Down fell his homed forehead to his hoof. 
When I began to greet him with the stroke 
That should prepare him for the holy rites. 
With hideous roars he laid out such a throat 10 

As made the secret lurkings of the god 
To answer, echo-like, in threat'ning sounds : 
I stroke again at him, and then he slept. 
His life-blood boiling out at every wound 
In streams as clear as any liquid ruby. 15 

And there began to alter my presage 
The other ill signs showing th' other fortune 
Of your last skirmish, which, far opposite now. 
Proves ill beginnings good events foreshow. 
For now, the beast cut up and laid on th' altar, 30 

His limbs were all lick'd up with instant flames, 
Not like the elemental fire that bums 
In household uses, lamely struggling up. 
This way and that way winding as it rises. 
But, right and upright, reach'd his proper sphere 25 

Where bums the fire eternal and sincere. 

Cas, And what may that presage ? 

Sooth, That even the spirit 


Of heaven's pnie flame flew down and ravish'd np 

Your ofiering's blaze in that religions instant. 

Which shows th' alacrity and cheerful virtue 50 

Of heaven's free bounty, doing good in time. 

And with what swiftness true devotions chmb. 

Omnes. The gods be honour'd ! 

Sooth. O behold with wonder t 

The sacred blaze is like a torch enhghten'd. 
Directly burning just above your camp 1 35 

Omnes. Miraculous ! 

Sooth. Believe it, with all thanks: 

The Roman Genius is alter'd now. 
And arms for Cassar. 

Cas. Soothsayer, be for ever 

Reverenc'd of Caesar. O Marc Antony, ^ 
I thought to raise my camp, and all my tents 40 

Took down for swift remotion to Scotu^. 
Shall now our purpose hold ? 

Ant. Against the gods ? 

They grace in th' instant, and in th' instant we 
Must add our parts, and be in th' use as free. 

Cras. See, sir, the scouts return. 

Enter two scotUs 

Cas. What news, my friends ? 45 

15/ Scout, Arm, arm, my lord, the vaward of the foe 
Is rang'd already I 

2nd Scout. Answer 'them, and arm t 

You cannot set your rest of battle up 
In happier hour ; for I this night beheld 
A strange confusion in your enemy^s camp, 50 

The soldiers taking arms in all dismay, 
And hurling them again as fast to earth. 
Every way routing, as th' alarm were then 
Given to their army. A most causeless fear 
Dispers'd quite through them. 

Cas. Then *twas Jove himself 55 

That with his secret finger stirr'd in them. 

CfOB. Other presages of success, my lord. 
Have strangely happen'd in the adjacent cities 
To this your army ; for in Tralleis, 

Within a temple built to Victory, 60 

There stands a statue with your fbnn and name, 


Near whose finn base, even from the marble pavement. 

There sprang a pakn-tree up in this last night 

That seems to crown your statue with his boughs. 

Spread in wrapt shadows round about your brows. 65 

Cas. The sign, Crassinius, is most strange and graceful. 
Nor could get issue but by power divine ; 
Yet will not that, nor all abodes besides 
Of never such kind promise of success 

Perform it without tough acts of our own ; 70 

No care, no nerve the less to be employed. 
No offering to the gods, no vows, no prayers : 
Secure and idle spirits never thrive 
When most the gods for their advancements strive. 
And therefore tell me what abodes thou build'st on 75 

In an[y] spirit to act enflam'd in thee. 
Or in our soldiers' seen resolv'd addresses. 

Cras, Great and fiery virtue 1 And this day 
Be sure, great Caesar, of effects as great 

In absolute conquest ; to which are prepar'd 80 

Enforcements resolute from this arm'd hand. 
Which thou shalt praise me for, ahve or dead. 

Cas, Alive, ye gods, vouchsafe ; and my true vows 
For life in him — great heaven, for all my foes. 
Being natural Romans I — so far jointly hear 85 

As may not hurt our conquest ; as with fear. 
Which thou already strangely hast diffused 
Through all their army, which extend to flight 
Without one bloody stroke of force and fight. 

Ant, 'Tis time, my lord, you put in form your battle. 90 

Cas. Since we must fight, then, and no ofier'd peace 
Will take with Pompey, I rejoice to see 
This long-time-look'd-for and most happy day. 
In which we now shall fight, with men, not hunger. 
With toils, not sweats of blood through years extended, 95 
This one day serving to decide all jars 
'Twixt me and Pompey. Hang out of my tent 
My crimson coatK)f-arms to give my soldiers 
That ever-sure sign of resolv'd-for fight. 

Cras. These hands shall give that sign to all their longings. 100 

Exit Craasiiuus 

CiBs. [To Antony.] My lord, my army, I think best to 
In three full ^uadrons ; of which let me pray 


Yourself would take on you the left wing's charge ; 

Myself will lead the right wing, and my place 

Of fight elect in my tenth legion ; 105 

My battle by Domitius Calvinus 

ShaU take direction. 

The cocU-of-arms is hung out, and the soldiers 
shout within 

Ant. Hark, your soldiers shout 

For joy to see your bloody coat-of-arms 
Assure their fight this morning. 

CiBS, A blest even 

Bring on them worthy comforts ! And, ye gods, no 

Perform your good presages in events 
Of fit crown for our discipline and deeds 
Wrought up by conquest, that my use of it 
May wipe the hateful and unwortiiy stain 
Of tyrant from my temples, and exchange it 115 

For fautor of my country: ye have given 
That title to those poor and fearful fowls, 
That every sound puts up in frights and cries. 
Even then, when all Rome's powers were weak and heartless. 
When traitorous fires and fierce barbarian swords, 120 

Rapines, and soul-expiring slaughters fill'd 
Her houses, temples, all her air and earth. 
To me, then, (whom your bounties have inform'd 
With such a spirit as despiseth fear. 

Commands in either fortune, knows, and arms 125 

Against the worst of fate, and therefore can 
Dispose blest means, encourag'd to the best) 
Much more vouchsafe that honour ; chiefly now. 
When Rome wants only this day's conquest given me 
To make her happy, to confirm the brightness 130 

That yet she shines in over all the world. 
In empire, riches, strife of all the arts. 
In gifts of cities and of kingdoms sent her. 
In crowns laid at her feet, in every grace 
That shores, and seas, floods, islands, continents, 135 

Groves, fields, hills, mines, and metals can produce : 
All which I, victor, will increase, I vow. 
By all my good, acknowledg'd given by you. 




[The Camp of Pompey] 

Pompey, in haste, Brutus, Gabinius, Vibius following 

[Pom,] The poison, steep'd in every vein of empire 
In all the world, meet now in only me. 
Thunder and lighten me to death, and make 
My senses feed the flame, my soul the crack. 
Was ever sovereign captain of so many 5 

Armies and nations so oppressed as I 
With one host's headstrong outrage ; urging fight. 
Yet fly about my camp in panic terrors. 
No reason under heaven suggesting cause ? 
And what is this but even the gods deterring 10 

My judgment from enforcing fight this mom ? 
The new-fled night made day with meteors, 
Fir'd over Caesar's camp, and fidl'n in mine, 
As pointing out the terrible events 

Yet in suspense ; but where they threat their fall, 15 

Speak not these prodigies with fiery tongues 
And eloquence that should not move, but ravish 
All sound minds from thus tempting the just gods. 
And spitting out their fair premonishing flames 
With brackish rheums of ruder and brainsick number ? 20 

What's infinitely more — ^thus wild, thus mad, 
For one poor fortune of a beaten few 
To half so many staid and dreadful soldiers. 
Long train'd, long foughten, able, nimble, perfect 
To turn and wind advantage every way, 25 

Increase with little, and enforce with none, 
Made bold as lions, gaunt as famish'd wolves. 
With still-serv'd slaughters and continual toils. 

BruL You should not, sir, forsake your own wise counsel. 
Your own experienc'd discipline, own practice, 30 

Own god-inspired insight to all changes 
Of Protean fortune, and her zany, war. 
For hosts and hells of such ; what man will think 
The best of them not mad, to see them range 
So up and down your camp, already suing 35 

For offices fall'n, by Caesar's built-on fall. 
Before one stroke be struck ? Domitius, Spinther, 
Your father Scipio, now preparing friends 


For Caesar's place of universal bishop ? 

Are you th'observed rule and vouched example, 40 

Who ever would commend physicians 

That would not follow the diseased desires 

Of their sick pati^its ; yet incur yourself 

The faults that you so much abhor in others ? 

Pom. I cannot, sir, abide men's open mouths, 45 

Nor be iU spoken of ; nor have my counsels 
And circumspections tum'd on me for fears 
With mocks and scandals that would make a man 
Of lead a lightning in the desperat'st onset 
That ever trampled under death his Ufe. 50 

I bear the touch of fear for all their safeties. 
Or for mine own ! Enlarge with twice as many 
Self-Uves, self-fortunes, they shall sink beneath 
Their own credulities, before I cross them. 
Come, haste, dispose our battle ! 55 

Vib, Good my lord. 

Against your Genius war not for the world. 

Pom, By all worlds he that moves me next to bear 
Their scoffs and imputations of my fear 
For any cause, shall bear this sword to hell. 
Away, to battle I Good my lord, lead you 60 

The whole six thousand of our 3roung Patricians, 
Plac'd in the left wing to environ Caesar. 
My father Scipio shall lead the battle ; 
Domitius the left wing ; I the right 

Against Mark Antony. Take now jrour fills, 65 

Ye beastly doters on jrour barbarous wiUs. Exeunt 

The Battlefield of Pkarsalia] 

Alarm, excursions of all : the five Kings driven over the stage, 
Crassinius chiefly pursuing. At the door enter again the 
five Kings. The battle conHnued within. 

Ep. Fly, fly, the day was lost before 'twas fought. 

Thes. The Romans fear'd their shadows. 

Cic. Were there ever 

Such monstrous c onfidence s, as last night 
Their cups and music show'd, before ^e morning 
Made sucli amazes ere one stroke was struck ? 


Iber, It made great Pompey mad ; which who could mend ? 
The gods had hand in it. 

Thrace. It made the Consuls 

Run on their swords to see't. The brave Patricians 
Fled with their spoiled faces, arrows sticking 
As shot from heaven at them. 

Thes. 'Twas the charge lo 

That Caesar gave agaiust them. 

Ep. Come, away 

Leave all, and wonder at this fatal day. 


The fight nearer ; and enter Crassinius, a sword as thrust through 
his face ; he falls. To him Pompey and Caesar fighting : 
'Pompey gives way, Caesar follows, and enters at another door 

Cas. Pursue, pursue ; the gods foreshow'd their powers. 
Which we gave issue, and the day is ours. 
Crassinius ? O look up. He does, and shows 15 

Death in his broken eyes, which Caesar's hands 
Shall do the honour of eternal closure. 
Too well thou kept'st thy word, that thou this day 
Wouldst do me service to our victory. 

Which in thy life or death I should behold, 20 

And praise thee for ; I do, and must admire 
Thy matchless valour ; ever, ever rest 
Thy manly lineaments, which in a tomb, 
Erected to thy noble name and virtues, 

I'll curiously preserve with balms and spices, 25 

In eminent place of these Pharsalian fields. 
Inscribed witiii this true [scroll] of funeral : 


Crassinius fought for fame and died for Rome, 
Whose public weal springs from this private tomb. 

Enter some taking him off, whom Caesar helps 


Another Part of the Battle field\ 

Enter Pompey, Demetrius, toith black robes in their hands, broad 

hats, etc. 

Pom. Thus have the gods their justice, men their wills, 


And I, by men's wills rul'd, myself renouncing, 

Am by my Angel and the gods abhorr'd. 

Who drew me like a vapour up to heaven, 

To dash me like a tempest gainst the earth. 

O, the deserved terrors that attend 

On humaa;jconfid(gi;U2^ I Had ever men 

Such outrage of presumption to be victors 

Before they arm'd ? To send to Rome before 

For houses near the market-place; their tents 

Strow'd aU with flowers and noaegays, tables cover'd 

With cups and banquets, ba3rs and myrtle garlands. 

As ready to do sacrifice for conquest 

Rather than arm them for fit fight t' enforce it ! 

Which, when I saw, I knew as well th' event 

As now I feel it, and because I rag'd 

In that presage (my Genius showing me clearly 

As in a mirror all this cursed issue), 

And therefore urg'd all means to put it oft 

For this day, or from these fields, to some other. 

Or from this ominous confidejic^, till I saw 

Their spirits settled in "some graver knowledge 

Of what belonged to such a dear decision. 

They spotted me with fear, with love of glory 

To keep in my command so many kings. 

So great an army — all the hellish blastings 

That could be breath'd on me to strike me blind, 

Of honour, spirit, and soul. And should I then 

Save them that would in spite of heaven be ruin'd. 

And in their safeties ruin me and mine 

In everlasting rage of their detraction ? 

Dem, Your safety and own honour did deserve 
Respect past all their values. O, my lord. 
Would you — 

Pern. Upbraid me not; go to, go onl 

Dem, No ; I'll not rub the wound. The misery is 
The gods for any error in a man 
(Which they might rectify, and should, because 
That man maintaia'd the right) should suffer wrong 
To be thus insolent, thus grac'd, thus blest. 

Pom, O, the strange carriage of their acts, by which « 
Men order theirs and their devotions in them, / 

Much rather striving to entangle men 5. 

In pathless error than with regular right 









Confirm their reason's and their piety's light. 

For now, sir, whatsoever was foreshown 45 

By heaven, or prodigy — ^ten parts more for us, 

Forewarning us, deterring us and all 

Our blind and brainless frenzies, than for Caesar — 

All yet will be ascrib'd to his regard 

Given by the gods for his good parts, preferring 50 

Their gloss (being stark impostures) to the justice. 

Love, honour, piety of our laws and country ; 

Though I think these are arguments enow 

For my acquittal that for all these fought. 

Dem. Y'are clear, my lord. 

Pom. Gods help me, as I am. 55 

Whatever my untouched command of millions 
Through all my eight and fifty years hath won. 
This one day, in the world's esteem, hath lost. 
So vile is praise and dispraise by event ; 

For I am still myself in every worth 60 

The world could grace me with, had this day's even 
In one blaze join'd with all my other conquests. 
And shall my comforts in my well-known self 
Fail me for their false fires, Demetrius ? 

Dem, O no, my lord! 

Pom, Take grief for them, as if 65 

The rotten-hearted world could steep my soul 
In filthy putrefaction of their own, 
Since their applauses fail me, that are hisses 
To every sound acceptance ? I confess 

That tin th' affair was past my passions flam'd ; 70 

But now 'tis helpless, and no cause in me. 
Rest in these embers my unmoved soul 
With any outward change, this distich minding; 
'No man should more allow his own loss woes, 
(Being past his fault) than any stranger does.' 75 

And for the world's false loves and airy honours. 
What soul that ever lov'd them most in life 
(Once sever'd from this breathing sepulchre) 
Again came and appear'd in any kind 

Their kind admirer still, or did the state ^ 80 

Of any best man here associate ? 
And every true soul should be here so sever'd 
From love of such men as here drown their souls 
As all the world does, Cato sole [excepted]; * 


To whom I'll fly now, and my wife in way 85 

(Poor lady and poor children, worse than fatherlesB) 
Visit and comfort. Come, Demetrius, 

They disguise themselves 
We now must suit our habits to our fortunes. 
And since these changes ever chance to greatest 

♦*♦♦♦♦ nor desire to be 90 

(Do Fortune to exceed it what she can) 
A Pompey, or a Caesar, but a man. Exeunt 


Another Pari of the Field] 
Enter Caesar, Antony, AciUus, with soldiers 

Cas, Oh, we have slain, not conquered ! Roman blood 
Perverts th' event, and desperate blood let out 
With their own swords. Did ever men before 
Envy theif own lives since another Uv'd 

Whom they would wilfully conceive their foe, 5 

And forge a tjnrant merely in their fears 
To justify their slaughters ? Consuls ? Furies I 

Ant, Be, sir, their faults their griefs ! The greater 
Were only slaves that left their bloods to ruth. 
And altogether but six thousand slain. 10 

Cas, However many, gods and men can witness 
Themselves enforc'd it, much against the most 
I could enforce on Pompey for our peace. 
Of all slain yet, if Brutus only tiv'd 

I should be comforted, for his life sav'd 15 

Would weigh the whole six thousand that are lost. 
But much I fear his death, because, the. battle 
FuU stricken now, he yet abides unfound. 

AcU, I saw him fighting near the battle's end. 
But suddenly give ofE, as bent to fly. 20 

Enter Brutus 

Ani> He comes here ; see, sir. 
Brut. I submit to Qesar 

My life and fortunes. 


Cas. A more welcome fortune 

Is Brutus than my conquest. 

Brut. Sir, I fought 

Against your conquest and 3rourself, and merit 
(I must acknowledge) a much sterner welcome. 25 

Ci8s, You fought with me, sir, for I know 3^ur arms 
Were taken for your country, not for Pompey. 
And for my country I fought, nothing less 
Than he, or both the mighty-stomach'd Consuls; 
Both whom, I hear, have slain themselves before 50 

They would enjoy life in the good of Caesar. 
But I am nothing worse, how ill soever 
They and the great authority of Rome 
Would fain enforce me by their mere suspicions. 
Lov'd they their country better than her Brutus ? 35 

Or knew what fitted noblesse and a Roman 
With freer souls than Brutus ? Those that Uve 
Shall see in Caesar's justice, and whatever 
Might make me worthy both their lives and loves. 
That I have lost the one without my merit, 40 

And they the other with no Roman spirit. 
Are you impaired to Uve and joy my love ? 
Only requite me, Brutus ; love but Caesar, 
And be in all the powers of Caesar, Caesar. 
In which free wish I join your father Cato ; 45 

For whom I'll haste to Utica, and pray 
His love may strengthen my success to-day. Exmni 

A Room in Cato's House in Utica] . 

Fortius in haste, Marcihus, bare, following. Fortius discovers 
a bed and a sword hanging by it, which he takes down 

Mar. To what use take you that, my lord ? 

Por. Take you 

No note that I take it, nor let any servant 
Besides yourself, of all my father's nearest. 
Serve any mood he serves with any knowledge 
Of this or any other. Caesar comes 
And gives his army wings to reach this town. 
Not for the town's sake, but to save my father. 


Whom justly he suspects to be resolv'd 

Of any violence to his life, before 

He will preserve it by a tyrant's favour. 10 

For Pompey hath miscarried and is fled. 

Be true to me and to my father's life, 

And do not teU him, nor his fury serve 

With any other. 

Mat, I will die, my lord. 

Ere I observe it. 

Pot, O, my lord and father I 15 

[Enter] Cato, Athenodorus, Statilius. Cato with a book in his hand 

Cato, What fears fly here on all sides ? What wild looks 
Are squinted at me from men's mere suspicions 
That I am wild myself, and would enforce 
What wiU be taken from me by the tyrant ? 

Alh, No. Would you only ask life, he would think 20 
His own Ufe given more strength in giving yours. 

Cato, I ask my life of him t 

Stat. Ask what's his own 

Of him he scorns should have the least drop in it 
At his disposure 1 

Cato. No, Statilius. 

Men that have forfeit lives by breaking laws, 25 

Or have been overcome, may beg their lives; 
But I have ever been in every justice 
Better than Caesar, and was never conquer'd, 
Or made to fly for life, as Caesar was. 

But have been victor ever to my wish, 30 

Gainst whomsoever ever hath oppos'd ; 
Where Caesar now is conquer'd in his conquest. 
In the ambition he till now denied. 
Taking upon him to give life, when death 
Is tenfold due to his most tjnrannous self ; 35 

No right, no power given him to raise an army 
Which in despite of Rome he leads about. 
Slaughtering her loyal subjects like an outlaw ; 
Nor is he better. Tongue, show, falsehood are 
To bloodiest deaths his parts so much admir'd, 40 

Vainglory, villainy, and, at best you can. 
Fed with the parings of a worthy man. 
My fame affirm my life receiv'd from him ! 
I'U rather make a beast my second father. 


Stat. The gods avert from every Roman mind 4$ 

The name of slave to any tyrant's power I 
Why was man ever just but to be free 
Gainst all injustice, and to bear about him 
As well all means to freedom every hour, 
f As every hour he should be acm'd for death, 50 

\ Which only is his freedom ? 
^ Ath. But, Statilius, 

Death is not free for any man's election. 
Till nature or the law impose it on him. 

Cato. Must a man go to law, then, when he may 
Enjoy his own in peace ? If I can use 55 

Mine own myself, must I, of force, reserve it 
To serve a t3n:ant with it ? All just men 
Not only may enlarge their lives, but must. 
From aU rule t3n:annous, or live unjust. 

Ath, By death must they enlarge their lives ? 60 

Cato, By death. 

Ath, A man's not bound to that. 

Cato. I'll prove he is. 

Are not the lives of all men bound to justice ? 

Ath. They are. 

Cato. And therefore not to serve injustice: 

Justice itself ought ever to be free. 

And therefore every just noan being a part 65 

Of that free justice, should be free as it. 

Ath. Then wherefore is there law for death ? 

Cato. That all 

That know not what law is, nor freely can 
Perform the fitting justice of a man 

In kingdoms' common good, may be enforc'd. 70 

But is not every just man to himself 
The perfecfst law ? 

Ath. Suppose I 

Cato. Then to himself 

Is every just man's life subordinate. 
Again, sir, is not our free soul infus'd 

To every body in her absolute end 75 

To rule that body ? In which absolute rule 
Is she not absolutely empress of it ? 
And being empress, may she not dispose 
It, and the life in it, at her just pleasure ? 

Ath. Not to destroy it I 


Caio. No, she not destroys it So 

When she dislives it, that their freedoms may 
Go firm together, like their powers and organs, 
Rather than let it live a rebel to her. 
Profaning that divine conjunction 

'Twixt her and it ; nay, a disjunction making 85 

Betwixt them worse than deatii, in killing quick 
That which in just death Uves : being dead to her. 
If to her rule dead ; and to her alive. 
If dying in her just rule. 

Ath, The body lives not 

When death hath reft it. 

Cato, Yet 'tis free, and kept 90 

Fit for rejunction in man's second life. 
Which dying rebel to the soul, is far 
Unfit to join with her in perfect life. 

Ath. It shall not join with her again. 

Cato. It shaU. 

Ath. In reason shall it ? 

Cato. In apparent reason. 95 

Which 111 prove clearly. 

Stat. Hear, and judge it, sir! 

Cato. As Nature works in aU things to an end. 
So in th' appropriate honour of that end 
All things precedent have their natural frame ; 
And therefore is there a proportion 100 

Betwixt the ends of those things and their primes ; 
For else there could not be in their creation. 
Always, or for the most part, tiiat firm form 
In their still like existence, that we see 

In each full creature. What proportion then 105 

Hath an immortal with a mortal substance ? 
And thexiefore the mortality to which 
A man is subject rather is a sleep 
Than bestial death, since Sleep and Death are call'd 
The twins of Nature. For if absolute death no 

And bestial seize the body of a man. 
Then is there no proportion in his parts, 
His soul being free from death, which otherwise 
Retains divine proportion. For as sleep 
No disproportion holds with human souls, 115 

But aptiy quickens the proportion 
'Twixt them and bodies* ihaking bodies fitter 

C.D.W. c c 


To give up forms to souls, which is their end : 

So death (twin-born of sleep), resolving all 

Man's body's heavy parts, in lighter nature 120 

Makes a reunion with the spritely soul, 

When, in a second life their beings given. 

Holds their proportion firm in highest heaven. 

Aih. Hold you our bodies shall revive, resuming 
Our souls again to heaven ? 

Cato. Past doubt, though otiiers 125 

Think heaven a world too high for our low reaches. 
Not knowing the sacred sense of him that sings: 
' Jove can let down a golden chain from heaven. 
Which, tied to earth, shall fetch up earth and seas.' 
And what's that golden chain but our pure souls ? 130 

A golden beam of him, let down by him. 
That govem'd with his grace, and drawn by him. 
Can hoist this earthy body up to him. 
The sea and air, and all the elements 

Compress'd in it ; not while 'tis thus concrete, 135 

But fin'd by death, and then given heavenly heat. 

Ath. Your happy exposition of that place 
(Whose sacred depth I never heard so sounded) 
Evicts glad grant from me you hold a truth. 

StaU Is't not a manly truth, and mere divine ? 140 

Cato, 'Tis a good cheerful doctrine for good men. 
But, son and servants, this is only argu'd 
To spend our dear time well, and no life urgeth 
To any violence further than his owner 

And graver men hold fit. Let's talk of Csesar ; 145 

He's the great subject of all talk, and he 
Is hotly hasting on. Is supper ready ? 

Mar, It is, my lord. 

Cato, Why then, lef s in and eat» 

Our cool submission will quench Caesar's heat. 

StaL Submission ? Here's for him. 

Caio, Statilius, 150 

My reasons must not strengthen you in error. 
Nor leam'd Athenodorus' gentle yielding. 
Talk with some other deep philosophers. 
Or some divine priest of the knowing gods^ 
And hear their reasons: in meantime come sup. 155 

Exeunt, Cato going out arm-in-aym betwixt Atheno- 
dorus and StatUius 


[The Island of Lesbos, near the shore] 

Enter Ushers toiih the two Lentuli, and [Sextus] before Cornelia ; 

Cyris, Telesilla, Lselia, Drusus, with others following, Cornelia, 

[Sextus], and the two Lentuli reading letters 

Cor. So may my comforts for this good news thrive. 
As I am thankful for them to the gods. 
Joys unexpected, and in desperate plight, ^ 

Are still most sweet, and prove from whence they come. 
When earth's still moonlike con£degce in joy 5 

Is at her full, true joy descending iax 
From past her sphere, and from that highest heaven 
That moves and is not mov'd. How far was I 
From hope of these events, when fearful dreams 
Of harpies tearing out my heart, of armies 10 

Terribly joining, cities, kingdoms falling. 
And aU on me, prov'd sleep not twin to death. 
But, to me, death itself ? Yet waking then. 
These letters, full of as much cheerful life, 
I found clos'd in my hand. O gods, how justly 15 

Ye laugh at all things earthly, at aU fears 
That rise not from 3^ur judgments, at all joys 
Not drawn directly from yourselves and in ye I 
Distrust in maruis faith, -trust in him, ruin. } 
Why write great learned men, men merely rapt ' 20 

Wil^ sacred rage, of confidence, belief. 
Undaunted spirits, inexorable fate * 

And aU fear treading on, 'tis all but air ; j 

If any comfort be, 'tis in despair. 

1st Len, You learned ladies may hold anything. 25 

2nd Len, Now, madam, is your walk from coach come near 
The promontory, where you late commanded 
A sentinel should stand to see from thence 
If either with a navy, brought by sea. 

Or train by land, great Pompey comes to greet you 30 

As in your letters, he near this time promis'd. 

Cor. O may this isle of Lesbos, compass'd in 
With the £gaean sea, that doth divide 
Europe from Asia (the sweet literate world 
From the barbarian), from my barbarous dreams 35 

Divide my dearest husband and his fortunes. 


2nd Len. He's busied now with ordering offices. 
By this time, madam, sits your honoured father 

He looks in his letter 
In Caesar's chair of universal bishop. 

Domitius JSnobarbus is made Consul, 40 

Spinther his consort ; and Phaonius 
Tribune, or Praetor. 

[Sextos comes forward] with a letter 

Seix]. These were only sought 

Before the battle, not obtain'd ; nor moving 
My father but in shadows. 

Cor, Why should men 

Tempt fate with such firm confid ence, seeking places 45 

Before the power that shoul3'~9ispOse could grant them ? 
For then the stroke of battle was not struck. 

15/ Len, Nay, that was sure enough. Physicians know 
When sick men's e3res are broken they must die. 
Your letters telling you his victory 50 

[Left] in the skirmish, which I know hath broken 
Both the eyes and heart of Caesar : for as men 
Healthful through all their lives to grey-hair'd age. 
When sickness takes them once, they seldom 'scape : 
So Caesar, victor in his general fights 55 

TiU this late skirmish, could no adverse blow 
Sustain without his utter overthrow. 

{Enter a Sentinel] 

2nd Len, See, madam, now, your sentinel ; inquire. 

Cor, Seest thou no fleet yet, sentinel, nor train 
That may be thought great Pompey's ? 

Sent, Not 3^t, madam* 60 

15/ Len, Seest thou no travellers addressed this way. 
In any number on this Lesbian shore ? 

Sent, I see some not worth note, a couple coming 
This way on foot that are not, now, far hence. 

2nd Len, Come they apace, like messengers with news ? 65 

Sent. No, nothing like, my lord ; nor are their habits 
Of any such men's fashions, being long mantles» 
And sable-hued, their heads all hid in hats 
Of parching Thessaly, broad-brimm'd, high-crown'd. 

Cor. These serve not our hopes. 

Sent, Now I see a ship, 70 

A kenning hence, that strikes into the haven. 


Cor, One only ship ? 

Sent One only, madam, yet. 

Cor. That should not be my lord. 
15/ Len. Your lord ? No, madam. 

Sent. She now lets out arm'd men upon the land. 
2nd Len. Arm'd men ? With drum and colours ? 
Sent. No, my lord ; 

But bright in arms, [that] bear half-pikes or bead-hooks. 75 
15/ Len. These can be no plumes in the train of Pompey. 
Cor. I'll see him in his letter once again. 
Sent. Now, madam, come the two I saw on foot. 

Enter Pompey and Demetrius [disguised] 

Dem. See your princess, sir, come thus far from the city in 80 
her coach, to encounter your promised coming about this 
time in your last letters. 

Pom. The world is alter'd since, Demetrius, 

[They] offer to go by 

ist Len. See, madam, two Thessalian augurs, it seems by 
their habits. Call, and inquire if either by their skills or travels 85 
they know no news of your husband. 

Cor. My friends, a word ! 

Dem. With us, madam ? 

Cor. Yes. Are you of Thessaly ? 

Dem. Ay, madam, and all the world besides. 90 

Cor. Your country is great. 

Dem. And our portions little. 

Cor. Are you augurs ? 

Dem. Augurs, madam ? Yes, a kind of augurs, alias wizards, 
that go up and down the world teaching how to turn ill to 95 

Cor. Can you do that ? 

Dem. Ay, madam ; you have no work for us, have you ? 
No in to turn good, I mean ? 

Cor. Yes, the absence of my husband. 100 

Dem. What's he ? 

Cor. Pompey the Great. 

Dem. Wherein is he great ? 

Cor. In his command of the world. 

Dem. Then he's great in others. Take him without his 105 
addition, ' Great ', what is he then ? 

Cor, Pompey. 

Dem. Not your husband then ? 


Cor» Nothing the less for his greatness. 

Dem. Not in his right ; but in your comforts he is. i lO 

Cor, His right is my comfort. 

Dem* What's his wrong ? 

Cor. My sorrow. 

Dem. And that* s ill. 

Cor. Yes. 115 

Dem. Y'are come to the use of our profession, madam : 
would you have that ill tum'd good, that sorrow tum'd 
comfort ? 

Cor. Why, is my lord wrong'd ? 

Dem. We possess not that knowledge, madam : suppose 120 
he were. 

Cor. Not 1 1 

Dem. You'll suppose him good ? 

Cor. He is so. 
I Dem. Then must you needs suppose him wrong'd ; for all 125 
I goodness is wrong'd in this world. 

Cor. What call you wrong ? 

Dem. Ill fortune, affliction. 

Cor. Think you my lord afflicted ? 

Dem. If I think him good, madam, I must. Unless he be 130 
\ worldly good, and then either he is ill or has ill ; since, as no 
'. sugar is without poison, so is no worldly good without ill, even 
'naturally nourished in it, like a household thief, which is the 
worst of all thieves. 

Cor. Then he is not worldly, but truly good. 135 

( Dem. He's too great to be truly good ; for worldly great- 
' ness is the chief worldly goodness ; and all worldly goodness 
(I proved before) has ill in it, which true good has not. 

Cor. If he rule well with his greatness, wherein is he ill ? 

Dem. But great rulers are like carpenters that wear their 140 
rules at their backs still ; and therefore to make good your true 
good in him, 3r'ad better suppose him little or mean ; for in the 
mean only is the true good. 

Pom. But every great lady must have her husband great 
still, or her love will be Uttie. 145 

Cor. 1 am none of those great ladies. 

15^ Len. She's a philosophress, augur, and can turn ill to 
good as well as you. 

Pom. 1 would then not honour, but adore her. Could 
you submit yourself cheerfully to your husband* supposing 150 
him fallen ? 


Cor. If he submit himself cheerfully to his fortune. 

Pom. 'Tis the greatest greatness in the world you under- 

Car, I would be so great, if he were. 155 

Pom. In supposition. 

Cor. In fact. 

Pom. Be no woman, but a goddess, then, and make 
good thy greatness. {Revealing himself,] 1 am cheerfully 
fallen; be cheerful. 160 

Cor. I am, and welcome, as the world were clos'd 
In these embraces. 

Pom. Is it possible. 

A woman, losing greatness, still as good 
As at her greatest ? O gods was I ever 
Great till this minute ! 

Ambo Len. Pompey ? 

Pom. View me better! 165 

Ambo Len. Conquer'd by Caesar ? 

Pom. Not I, but mine army. 

No fault in me in it ; no conquest of me ; 
I tread this low earth as I trod on Caesar. 
Must I not hold myself, though lose the world ? 
(Nor lose I less : a world lost at one clap ; 170 

Tis more than Jove ever thunder'd with.) 
What glory is it to have my hand hurl 
So vast a volley through the groaning air ? 
And is't not great to turn griefs thus to joys. 
That break the hearts of others ? 175 

Ambo Len. O, tis Jove-like I 

Pom, It is to imitate Jove, that from the wounds 
Of softest clouds beats up the terriblest sounds. 
I now am good, for good men still have least. 
That 'twixt themselves and God might rise their rest. 

Cor. O, Pompey, Pompey, never 'Great' till now I 180 

Pom, O, my Cornelia, let us still be good. 
And we shall still be great; and greater far 
In every solid grace than when the tumour 
And bile of rotten observation swell'd us. 
Griefs for wants outward are without our cure, 185 

Greatness, not of itself, is never sure. 
Before we went upon heaven, rather treading 
The virtues of it underfoot in making 
The vicious world our heaven, than walking there 



Even here, as knowing that our home, contemning 190 

All forg'd heavens here rais'd, setting hills on hills. 

Vulcan from heaven fell, yet on's feet did light. 

And stood no less a god than at his height. 

At lowest, things lie fast ; we now are like 

The two poles propping heaven, on which heaven moves, 195 

And they are fix'd and quiet ; being above 

All motion far, we rest above the heavens. 

Cor, Oh, I more joy t'embrace my lord, thus fix'd. 

Than he had brought me ten inconstant conquests. 

isU Len. Miraculous standing in a fall so great I 200 

Would Caesar knew, sir, how you conquer'd him 

In your conviction 1 
Pom, 'Tis enough for me 

That Pompey knows it. I will stand no more 

On others' legs, nor build one joy without me. 

If ever I be worth a house again 205 

I'll build all inward ; not a light shall ope 

The common outway ; no expense, no art. 

No ornament, no door will I use there, 
(But raise all plain and rudely, like a rampier 
I Against the false society of men 210 

; That still batters 
'All reason piecemeal, and, for earthy greatness. 

All heavenly comforts rarefies to air. 

I'll therefore live in dark, and all my light. 

Like ancient temples, let in at my top. 215 

This were to turn one's back to sill the world. 

And only look at heaven. Empedocles 

Recur'd a mortal plague through all his country 

With stopping up the yawning of a hill. 

From whence the hollow and imwholesome south 220 

Exhal'd his venom'd vapour. And what else 

Is any king, given over to his lusts. 

But even the poison'd deft of that crack'd mountain. 

That all his kingdom plagues with his example ? 

Which I have stopp'd now, and so cur'd my country 225 

Of such a sensual pestilence : 
, When therefore our diseas'd affections. 

Harmful to human freedom, and, storm-like. 

Inferring darkness to th' infected mind. 

Oppress our comforts, 'tis but letting in 230 

The light of reason, and a purer spirit 



Take in another way ; like rooms that fight 
With windows gainst the wind, yet let in light. 

Antbo Len, My lord, we serv'd before, but now adore you. 

Sent. My lord, the arm'd men I discovered lately 235 

Unshipp'd and landed, now are trooping near. 

Pom. What arm'd men are they ? 

1st Len. Some, my lord, that lately 

The sentinel discovered, but not knew. 

Sent, Now all the sea, my lords, is hid with ships : 
Another promontory flanking this, 240 

Some furlong hence, is climb'd, and full of people. 
That easily may see hither, it seems looking 
What Ijiese so near intend : take heed, they come. 

Enter Achillas, Septi[mi]us, Salvius, with soldiers 

Ach. Hail to Rome's great commander ; to whom iBgypt 
(Not long since seated in his kingdom by thee, 245 

And sent to by thee in thy passage by) 
Sends us with answer; which withdraw and hear. 
Pom, I'll kiss my children first. 
Se[x\, Bless me, my lord ! 

Pom. I will, and Cyris, my poor daughter too. 
Even that high hand l^at hurl'd me down thus low, 250 

Keep you from rising high 1 I hear ; now tell me. 
I think, my friend, you once serv'd under me. 

Septi[mi]us only nods with his head 
Nod only, not a word deign ? What are these ? 
Comeha, I am now not worth men's words. 
Ach, Please you receive your aid, sir ? 
Pom. Ay, I come. 255 

Exit Pompey. They draw and follow 
Cor. Why draw they ? See, my lords ; attend them, 
ushers I 

[ExewnU the two Lentuli, and Demetrius with 
the Ushers] 
Seixl. O they have slain great Pompey I 
Cor, O my husband I 

^ *■ •'' !• Mother, take comfort I 

Enter Pompey bleeding 


O,. my lord, and father 1 
Pom. See, heavens, your sufferings ! Is my country's love. 


The justice of an empire, piety, 260 

Worth this end in their leader ? Last yet, life, 
And bring the gods oS fairer: after this 
Who will adore or serve the deities ? 

He hides his face with his robe 

Enter the Murtherers 

Ach. Help hale him off, and take his head for Caesar. 
Se\x\. Mother, O save us ! Pompey, O my father 1 265 

[Exeunt Murderers with Pompey] 

Enter the two Lentuli and Demetrius bleeding, and kneel about 


1st Len, Yet falls not heaven ? Madam, O make good 
Your late great spirits ! All the world will say 
You know not how to bear adverse events. 
If now you languish. 

Omnes, Take her to her coach. 

They bear her out 

A Room in Cato's House in Utica] 

Cato tvith a booh in his hand 

[Catcl O beastly apprehenders of things manly 
And merely heavenly ! They, with all the reasons 
I us'd for just men's Uberties to bear 
Their lives and deaths up in their own free hands. 
Fear still my resolution; though I seem 5 

To give it ofiE like them, and now am won 
To think my life in law's rule, not mine own, 
When once it comes to death, as if the law. 
Made for a sort of outlaws, must bound me 
In their subjection ; as if I could 10 

Be rack'd out of my veins to Uve in others. 
As so I must, if others rule my Hfe, 
And public power keep all the right of death ; 
As if men needs must serve the place of justice. 
The form and idol, and renounce itself, 15 

Ourselves, and all our rights in God and goodness. 
Our whole contents and freedoms, to dispose ^ . .^ 

All in the jo}^ and ways of arrant rogues 1 ' 


No stay but their wild errors to sustam us t 

No forges but their throats to vent our breaths, 20 

To form our lives in, and repose our deaths t 

See, they have got my sword. Who's there ? 

Enter Marcilius bare 

Mar, My lord I 

Cato, Who took my sword hence ? Dumb ? I do not ask 
For any use or care of it, but hope 

I may be answer'd. Go, sir, let me have it. Exit Marcilius 25 
Poor slaves, how terrible this death is to them I 
If men would sleep they would be wroth with all 
That interrupt them, physic take, to take 
The golden rest it brings, both pay and pray 
For good and soundest naps, all friends consenting 30 

In those kind invocations, praying all 
* Good rest the gods vouchsafe you', but when Death, 
Sleep's natural brother, comes (that's nothing worse. 
But better, being more rich, and keeps the store; 
Sleep ever fickle, wa3rward still, and poor), 35 

O how men grudge, and shake, and fear, and fly 
His stem approaches ; all their comforts taken 
In faith and knowledge of the bliss and beauties 
That watch their wakings in an endless life, 
Drown'd in the pains and horrors of their sense 40 

Sustain'd but for an hour I Be all the earth 
Rapt with this error, I'll pursue my reason. 
And hold that as my light and fiery pillar, 
Th' eternal law of heaven and earth no firmer. 
But while I seek to conquer conquering Caesar, 45 

My soft-spleen'd servants overrule and curb me. 

He knocks, and [Butas] enters 
Where's he I sent to fetch and place my sword 
Where late I left it ? Dumb, too ? Come another I 

Enter Cleanthes 

Where's my sword hung here ? 

Cle, My lord, I know not. 

Cato, The rest come in there 1 Enter Marcilius 50 

Where's the sword I charg'd you 
To give his place again ? I'll break your lips ope. 
Spite of my freedom, all my servants, friends. 
My son and all, will needs betray me naked 


To th' anned malice of a foe so fierce 

And bear-like, mankind of the blood of virtue. 55 

gods, who ever saw me thus contemn'd ? 
Go, call my son in, tell him that the less 
He shows himself my son, the less I'll care 
To live his father. 

Enter Athenodorus, Fortius ; Fortius kneeling ; [Butas], 

Cleanthes, and Marcilius by him 
Por, I beseech you, sir. 

Rest patient of my duty, and my love ; 60 

Your other children think on, our poor mother. 
Your family, your country, 
t Cato. If the gods 

' Give over all, I'll fly the world with them. 
Athenodorus, I admire the changes 

1 note in heavenly providence. When Fompey 65 
Did all things out of course, past right, past reason, 

He stood invincible against the world : 

Yet now his cares grew pious, and his powers 

Set all up for his country, he is conquered. 
Aih. The gods' wills secret are, nor must we measure 70 

Tlieir chaste-reserved deeps by our dry shallows. 

Sufficeth us, we are entirely such 

As 'twixt them and our consciences we know 

Their graces, in our virtues, shall present 

Unspotted with the earth, to th' high throne 75 

/That overlooks us ; for this giant world, 
j Let's not contend with it, when heaven itself 
j Fails to reform it : why should we afEect 

The least hand over it ui that ambition ? 

A heap 'tis of digested villany ; 80 

Virtue in labour with eternal chaos 

Fress'd to a Uving death, and rack'd beneath it, 

Her throes unpitied, every worthy man 

Limb by limb sawn out of her virgin womb. 

To Hve here piecemeal tortur'd ; fly life then I 85 

Your Ufe and death made precedents for men. Exit 

Cato, Ye hear, my masters, what a life this is. 

And use. much reason to respect it so. 

But mine shall serve ye. Yet restore my swordi 

Lest too much ye presume, and I conceive 90 

Ye front me like my fortunes. Where's Statilius ? 



i Por, I think, sir, gone, with the three hundred Romans 

In Lucius CaBsar's charge, to serve the victor. 

Cato, And would not take his leave of his poor friend ? 
Then the philosophers have stoop'd his spirit, 95 

Which I admire in one so free and knowing. 
And such a fiery hater of base life, 
\ Besides being such a vow'd and noted foe 
To our great conqueror. But I advis'd him 
To spare his youlli and live. 

Por. My brother Brutus 100 

Is gone to Caesar. 

Caki. Brutus ? Of mine honour 

(Although he be my son-in-law) I must say 
There went as worthy and as leam'd a precedent 
As lives in Rome's whole rule for all life's actions ; 
And yet your sister Portia (his wife) 105 

Would scarce have dohe this. But, for you, my son. 
However Caesar deals with me, be counsell'd 
By your experienc'd father not to touch 
At any action of the public weal. 

Nor any rule bear near her politic stem : 1 10 

For, to be upright and sincere therein 
Like Cato's son, the time's corruption 
Will never bear it ; and, to soothe the time. 
You shall do basely, and unworthy your life. 
Which to the gods I wish may outweigh mine 115 

In every virtue, howsoever Ul 
You thrive in honour. 

Por. I, my lord, shall gladly 

Obey that counsel. 

Caio. And what needed you 

Urge my kind care of any charge that nature 
Imposes on me ? Have I ever shown 120 

Love's least defect to you, or any dues. 
The most indulgent father, being discreet. 
Could do his dearest blood ? Do you me right 
In judgment and in honour, and dispense 
With passionate nature : go, neglect me not, 125 

But send my sword in. Go, 'tis I that charge you. 

Por, O, my lord and father \ [To the others] Come, advise 
me. Exeunt 

Goto, What have I now to think on in this wotld ? 
No one thought of the world : I go each minute 


Discbarg'd of all cares that may fit my freedom. 130 

The next world and my soul, tiien, let me serve 

With her last utterance, that my body may 

With sweetness of the passage drown the sour 

That death will mix with it : the Consuls' souls, 

That slew themselves so nobly, scorning life 135 

Led under tyrants' sceptres, mine woidd see. 

For we shall know each other, and past death 

Retain those forms of knowledge learn'd in life ; 

Since, if what here we learn, we there shall lose, 

Our immortality were not life, but time. 140 

And that our souls in reason are immortal 

Their natural and proper objects prove ; 

Which immortality and knowledge are. 

For to that object ever is referr'd 

The nature of the soul, in which the acts 145 

Of her high faculties are still employed. 

And that true object must her powers obtain 

To which they are in nature's aim directed. 

Since 'twere absurd to have her set an object 

Which possibly she never can aspire. 150 

Enter a Page with his sword, taken out before 

Page. Your sword, my lord. 

Cato, O, is it found ? Lay down 

Upon the bed, my boy. (Exit Page) Poor men ! a boy 
Must be presenter ; manhood at no hand 
Must serve so foul a fact; for so are call'd. 
In common mouths, men's fairest acts of all. 155 

Unsheathe t Is't sharp ? 'Tis sweet I Now I am safe ; 
Come Caesar, quickly now, or lose your vassal. 
Now wing thee, dear soul, and receive her, heaven. 
The earth, the air, and seas I know, and all 
The joys and horrors of their peace and wars, 160 

And now will see the gods' state, and the stars. 

He falls upon his sword, and enter Statilius at 
another side of the stage with his sword 
drawn ; Portius, [Butas], Cleanthes, and 
Marcilius holding his hands, 
Stat. Cato ? My lord ? 

Por. I swear, Statihus, ^ 

He's forth, and gone to seek you, charging me 
To seek elsewhere, lest you had slain yourself; 


And by his love entreated yon would live. 165 

Stai. I swear by all the gods» I'U run his fortunes. 

Por. You may» you may ; but shun the victor now. 
Who near is, and will make us all his slaves. 

Stat. He shall himself be mine first, and my slaves'. Exit 

For, Look, look in to my father 1 O I fear 170 

He is no sight for me to bear and live. Exit 

Otnnes 3. O ruthful spectacle ! 

Cle. He hath ripp'd his entrails. 

[Bui]. Search, search ; they may be found. 

Cle. They may, and are. 

Give leave, my lord, that I may sew them up. 
Being yet unperish'd. 

Cato, Stand ofi; now they are not. 175 

He thrusts Mm back and plucks out kis enirails 
Have he my curse that my life's least part saves ; y 
Just men are only free, the rest are slaves. [Dies] \^ 

{Bui\, Mirror of men 1 

Afar. The gods envied his goodness. 

Entef Caesar, Antony, Brutus, Acilius, witk Lords and Citizens 

0/ Utica 

CcBs, Too late, too late, with all our haste 1 O Cato, 
AU my late conquest, and my life's whole acts, 180 

Most crown'd, most beautified, are b[l]asted all 
With thy grave life's expiring in their scorn. 
Thy life was rule to all lives ; and thy death 
(Thus forcibly despising life) the quench 
Of all lives' glories. 

Ant, Unreclaimed man I. 185 

How censures Brutus his stem father's fact ? 

Brut. 'Twas not well done. 

CcBS. O censure not his acts ; 

Who knew as well what fitted man, as all men. 

Enter Achillas, Septimius, Salvius, with Pompey's head 

All [three"] kneeling. Your enemy's head, great Caesar I 
Cas. Cursed monsters. 

Wound not mine eyes with it, nor in my camp 190 

Let any dare to view it ; far as noblesse 
The den of barbarism flies, and bliss 
The bitterest curse of vex'd and tyranniz'd nature. 
Transfer it from me. Bom the plagues of virtue. 


How durst ye poison thus my thoughts ? To torture 195 

[With] them with instant rapture. 

Omnes 3. Sacred Caesar ! 

CcBS. Away with them ; I vow by all my comforts 
Who slack seems, or not fiery in my charge. 
Shall suffer with them. 

All the soldiers. Oot, base murtherers ; 200 

Tortures, tortures for them ! 

Omnes [3.] Cruel Caesar ! 

CcBs. Too mild with any torture. 

Hale them out 

Brut. Let me crave 

The ease of my hate on their one curs'd life. 

Cas. Good Brutus, take it ; O you cool the poison 
These villains flaming pour'd upon my spleen 
To suffer with my loathings. If the blood 205 

Of every common Roman touch'd so near. 
Shall I confirm the false brand of my t3rranny 
With being found a f autor of his murther 
Whom my dear country choos'd to fight for her ? 

Ant. Your patience, sir ; their tortures well will quit you. 210 

Brut, Let my slaves' use, sir, be your precedent. 

Cas, It shall, I swear ; you do me infinite honour. 
O Cato, I envy thy death, since thou 
Envied'st my glory to preserve thy life. 

Why fled his son, and friend Statilius ? 215 

So far I fly their hurt, that all my good 
Shall fly to their desires. And, for himself. 
My lords and citizens of Utica, 
His much renown of you quit with your most ; 
And by the sea, upon some eminent rock, 220 

Erect his sumptuous tomb, on which advance 
With all fit state his statue, whose right hand 
Let hold his sword, where may to all times rest 
His bones as honoured as his soul is blest. 




D D 

Alphonsus Emperor of Germany 


I SHALL not need to bespeak thee courteous, if thou hast seen 
this piece presented with all the elegance of life and action on 
the Blackfriars' stage ; but if it be a stranger to thee, give me 
leave to prepare thy acceptation by telling thee it was received 
with general applause, and thy judgment (I doubt not) will be 
satisfied in the reading. 

I will not raise thy expectation further, nor delay thy enter- 
tainment by a tedious preface. The design is high, the contrive- 
ment subtle, and will deserve thy grave attention in the perusaL 



Alphonsns, Emperor 

of Ger- 

Lorenzo de Cyprus, Secretary 


to the Emperor 

King of Bohemia, n 

Alexander, his Son, the Em- 

Bishop of Mentz, 


peror*s Page 

Bishop of CoUen, 


Isabella, the Empress 

Bishop of Trier, 


Hedewick, Daughter to the 

Palatine of the Rhein, 

^ of the 

Duhe of S<Mon 

Duke of Saxon, 


Captain of the Ouatd 

Marquess of Branden- 





Prince Edward of England 

, . / Two Boors 
Jenck, j 

Richard, Duke of Com 




A Room in the Court] 

Enter Alphonsns the Emperor in his nightgown and his shirt, and 
a torch in his hand ; Alexander de Cypnis, his Page, following 

Alp. Boy, give me the maater-key of all liie doors ; 
To bed again, and leave me to my^eVL ! Exit Alexander 
Is Richard come ? Have four Electors sworn 
To make him Kaiser in despite of me ? 

Why then, Alphonsns, it is time to wake ! 5 

No, Englishman, thou art too hot at hand. 
Too shallow-brain'd to undermine my throne ; 
The Spanish sun hath purified my wit. 
And dided up all gross humours in my head. 
That I am sighted as the king of birds, 10 

And can discern thy deepest stratagems. 
I am the lawful German Emperor, 
Chosen, install'd, by general consent ; 
And they may term me tjnrant as they please, 
I will be king and tyrant if I please, 15 

For what is empire, but a tyranny ? 
And none but children use it otherwise. 
Of seven Electors four are fall'n away. 
The other three I dare not greatly trust ; 
My wife is sister to mine enemy, 20 

And, therefore, wisely to be dealt withaL 
But why do I except in special, 
When this position must be general. 
That no man living must be credited 

Further than tends unto thy proper good. 25 

But to the purpose of my silent walk I 
Within this chamber lies my secretary, 
Lorenzo de Cyprus, in whose learned brain 
Is all the compass of the world contain'd; 


And as the ignorant and simple age 30 

Of our forefathers, blinded in their zeal, 

Receiv'd dark answers from Apollo's shrine. 

And honoured him as patron of their bliss, 

So I, not muffled in simplicity. 

Zealous indeed of nothing but my good, 35 

Haste to the augur of my happiness. 

To lay the ground of my ensuing wars. 

He learns his wisdom not by flight of birds. 

By pr3ring into sacrificed beasts. 

By hares that cross the way, by howling wolves, 40 

By gazing on the starry element. 

Or vain imaginary calculations ; 

But from a settled wisdom in itself. 

Which teacheth to be void of passion ; 

To be religious as the ravenous wolf 45 

Who loves the lamb for hunger and for prey ; 

To threaten our inferiors with our looks ; 

To flatter our superiors at our need ; 

To be an outward saint, an inward devil ; 

These are the lectures that my master reads. 5^ 

This key commands all chambers in the court; 

Now on a sudden wiU I try his wit, 

I know my coming is unlook'd for. 

He opens the door and finds Lorenzo aslssp aloft 
Nay, sleep, Lorenzo, I will walk awhile. 
As Nature, in the framing of the world, 55 

Ordain'd there should be nihil vacuum. 
Even so, methinks, his wisdom should contrive 
That all his study should be full of wit. 
And every comer stufl'd with sentences. 
What's this ? Plato ? Aristotle ? Tush I 60 

These are ordinary ; 
It seems this is a note but newly written. 

He reads a note which he finds among his boohs 

' Unaarbusta non alit duos erithacos ; which being granted^ 
the Roman Empire will not suffice Alphonsus, King of Castile, 
and Richard, Earl of Cornwall, his competitor. Thy wisdom 6$ 
teacheth thee to cleave to the strongest ; Aiphonsus is in posses- 
sion and therefore the strongest, but he is in hatred with the Elec- 
tors, and men rather honour the sun rising than the sun going 

Ay marry, this is argued like himself ; 7^ 


And now, methinks, he wakes. 

Lorenzo riseth and snatches at his sword, which 
hung by his bedside 

Lor. What, are there thieves within the Emperor's 
Court ? 
>^]]a]ny thou diest I What mak'st thou in my chamber ? 

Alp. How now, Lorenzo, wilt thou slay thy lord ? 

Lor. I do beseech your sacred Majesty 75 

To pardon me, I did not know your Grace. 

Alp, Lie down, Lorenzo, I will sit by thee. 
The air is sharp and piercing ; tremble not t 
Had it been any other but ourself , 
He must have been a villain and a thief. 80 

Lor. Alas, my lord, what means your Excellence 
To walk by night in these so dangerous times ? 

Alp. Have I not reason now to walk and watch, 
When I am compass'd with so many foes ? 
They ward, they watch, they cast, and they conspire 85 

To win confederate princes to their aid. 
And batter down the eagle from my crest. 
Oh, my Lorenzo, if thou help me not, 
Th' imperial crown is shaken from my head. 
And giv'n from me unto an English earl. 90 

Thou knowest how all things stand as well as we, 
Who are our enemies and who our friends. 
Who must be threat'ned and who dallied with. 
Who won by words and who by force of arms. 
For all the honour I have done to thee 95 

Now speak, and speak to purpose in the cause ; 
Nay, rest thy body, labour with thy brain. 
And of thy words m3rself will be the scribe. 

Lor. Why then, my lord, take paper, pen, and ink. 
Write first this maxim, it shall do you good : 100 

I. A prince must be of the nature of the lion and the fox, but 
not the one without the other. 

Alp. The fox is subtle, but he wanteth force ; 
The lion strong, but scometh policy ; 

I'll imitate Lysander in this point, 105 

And where the Hon's hide is thin and scant, 
I'll firmly patch it with the fox's fell. 
Let it suffice, I can be both in one. 


Lor. 2. A prince above all things must seem devout ; but 
there is nothing so dangerous to his state, as to regard his promise i lo 
or his oath. 

Alp. Tush, feax not me, my promises axe sound. 
But he that trusts them shall be sure to fail I 

Lor. Nay, my good lord, but that I know your Majesty 
To be a ready [and] quick-witted scholar, ii$ 

I would bestow a comment on the text. 

3. Trust not a reconciled friend, for good tu^ns cannot blot 
out old grudges. 

Alp. Then must I watch the Palatine of the Rhein ; 
I caus'd his father to be put to death. 120 

Lor. Your Highness hath as little cause to trust 
The dangerous, mighty duke of Saxony ; 
You know you sought to banish him the land ; 
And as for CoUen, was not be the first 
That sent for Richard into Germany ? 125 

Alp. What's thy opinion of the other four ? 

[Lor], That Bohemia neither cares for one nor other. 
But hopes this deadly strife between you twain 
Will cast th' imperial crown upon his head. 
For Trier and Brandenburg, I think of them 130 

As simple men that wish the common good ; 
And as for Mentz, I need not censure him, 
Richard hath chain'd him in a golden bond* 
And sav'd his life from ignominious death* 

Alp. Let it suffice, Lorenzo, that I know, 13$ 

When Churfurst Mentz was taken prisoner 
By young victorious Otho, Duke of Braunschweig, 
That Richard, Earl of Cornwall, did disburse 
The ransom of a king, a million. 

To save his life, and rid him out of bands, 140 

That sum of gold did fJl the Braunschweig bags ; 
But since myself have rain'd a golden shower 
Of bright Hungarian ducats and crusadoes 
Into the private coffers of the bishop. 

The English angels took their wings and fled ; 145 

My crosses bless his cofiers, and plead for me ; 
His voice is mine, bought with ten ton of gold. 
And at the meeting of the seven Electors 
His princely double-dealing HoUness 

Will spoil the English Emperor of hope. 150 

But I refer these matters to the sequel ; 


Proceed, Lorenzo, forward to the next. 

Lor. I'm glad your Grace hath dealt so cunningly 
With that [vaiDglorious] fickle-minded prelate, 
For in election his voice is first ; 155 

But to the next: 

4. *Tis more safety for a prince to he feared than loved. 

Alp. Love is an humour pleaseth him that loves ; 
Let me be hated, so I please myself. 

Love is an humour nuld and changeable, 160 

But fear engraves a reverence in the heart. 

Lor. 5. To keep an ttsurped croum, a prince must swear, 
forswear, poison, murder, and commit all kind of villainies^ , 
provided it be cunningly kept from the eye of the world. 

Alp. But, my Lorenzo, that's the hardest point } 165 

It is not for a prince to execute. 
Physicians and apothecaries must know. 
And servile fear or counsel-breaking bribes 
Will from a peasant in an hour extort 
Enough to overthrow a monarchy. 170 

Lor. Therefore, my lord, set down this sixt and last 

6. Be always jealous of him that knows your secrets. 
And therefore it behoves you credit few. 
And when you grow into the least suspect, 175 

With silent cunning must you cut them ofi. 
As for example, Julius Lentulus, 
A most renowned Neapolitan, 
Gave me this box of poison ; 'twas not long 
But therewithal I sent him to his grave. 180 

Alp. And what's the special virtue of the same ? 

Lor. That it is twenty da3rs before it works. 

Alp. But what is this ? 

Lor. This an infection that kills suddenly ; 
This but a toy to cast a man asleep. 185 

Alp. How ? Being drunk ? 

Lor. No, being smelt unto. 

Alp. Then smell, Lorenzo ; I did break thy sleep. 
And, for this time, this lecture shall suffice. 

Lor. What have you done, my lord ? Y'ave made ma 
For stirring hence these four-and-twenty hours. 190 

[He sleepf^ 

Alp. I see, this charms his senses suddenly. 


How now, Lorenzo, half asleep already ? 

Eneas' pilot by the God of dreams 

Was never lull'd into a sounder trance. 

And now, Alphonsus, over-read thy notes ! He reads 195 

These are already at my fingers' ends, 

And lest iiie world should find this little schedule. 

Thus will I rend the text, and after this 

On my behaviour set so fine a gloss 

That men shall take me for a convertite. 200 

But some may think I should forget my part 

And have been over^rash in rending it ; 

To put them out of doubt I study sure, 

I'll make a backward repetition 

In being jealous of my counsel-keepers. 205 

This is the poison that lolls suddenly : 

So didst thou unto Julius Lentulus, 

And blood with blood must be requited thus. 

[Poisons him] 
Now am I safe, and no man knows my counsels. 
Churfurst of Mentz, if now thou play ihy part, 210 

Earning thy gold with cunning worlonanship 
Upon the Bemish king's ambition, 
Richard shall shamefully fail of his hope. 
And I with triumph keep my empery. Exit 


The Hall of Electors at Frankforf\ 

Enter the King of Bohemia, the Bishops of Mentz, CoUen, 
Trier, the Palatine of the Rhein, the Duke of Saxon, 
and the Marquess of Brandenburg. 

Boh, Churfursts and Princes of the election. 
Since by the adverse fortune of our age 
The sacred and imperial majesty 
Hath been usurp'd by open tyranny. 

We, the seven pillars of the German Empire, 5 

To whom successively it doth belong 
To make election of our Emperors, 
Are here assembled to unite anew 
Unto her former strength and glorious t3rpe 
Our half-declining Roman monarchy; 10 

And in that hope I, Henry, King of Bohem, 


Churfurst and Sewer to the Emperor, 

Do take my seat next to the sacred throne. 

Men. Next seat belongs to Julius Florius, 
Archbishop of Ment?, Chancellor of Germany, 15 

I By birth the Duke of fruitful Pomerland. 

Pal, The next place in election longs to me, 
George Casimirus, Palsgrave of the Rhein, 
His Highness' Taster, and upon my knee 
I vow a pure, sincere, innated zeal 20 

Unto my country, and no wrested hate 
Or private love shall blind my intellect. 

Col. Brave Duke of Saxon, Dutchland's greatest hope. 
Stir now or never; let the Spanish t5rrant 
That hath dishonour'd us, murder'd our friends, 25 

And stained this seat with blood of innocents. 
At last be chastis'd with the Saxon sword ; 
And may Albertus, Archbishop of Collen, 
Chancellor of Gallia, and the fourth Elector, 
Be thought unworthy of his place and birth, 30 

But he assist thee to his utmost power. 

Sax. Wisdom, not words, must be the sovereign salve 
To search and heal these grievous fester'd wounds ; 
And in that hope Augustus, Duke of Saxon, 
Arch-Marshal to the Emperor, take my place. 35 

Tri. The like doth Frederick, Archbishop of Trier, 
Duke of Lorrain, Chancellor of Italy. 

Bran. The seventh and last is Joachim Carolus, 
Marquess of Brandenburg, overworn with age. 
Whose office is to be the Treasurer ; 40 

But wars have made the cofiers like the chair ; 
Peace bringeth plenty, wars bring poverty ; 
Grant Heavens this meeting may be to effect. 
Establish peace, and cut off tyranny. 

Entef the Empress Isabella, King John*s daughter 

Emp. Pardon my bold intrusion, mighty Churfursts^ 45 

And let my words pierce deeply in your hearts. 

0, I beseech you on my bended knees, 

1, the poor miserable Empress, 
A stranger in this land, unus'd to broils. 
Wife to the one and sister to the other 50 
That are competitors for sovereignty, 

-.' c. 


All that I pray is, make a quiet end. 

Make peace between my husband and my brother. 

O think how grief doth stand on either side. 

If either party chance to be amiss. 55 

My husband is my husband, but my brother — 

My heart doth melt to think he should miscarry t 

My brother is my brother, but my husband — 

O how my joints do shake fearing his wrong I 

If both should die in these uncertain broils, 60 

me, why do I live to think upon 't ! 
Bear with my interrupted speeches, lords. 

Tears stop my voice — your wisdoms know my meaning. 

Alas 1 I know my brother Richard's heart 

Affects not empire, he would rather choose 65 

To make return again to Palestine 

And be a scourge unto the infidels. 

As for my lord, he is impatient ; 

The more my grief, the lesser is my hope. 

Yet, Princes, thus hQ sends you word by me, 70 

He will submit himself to your award. 

And labour to amend what is amiss. 

All I have said, or can devise to say. 

Is few words of great worth : Make unity I 

Boh. Madam, that we have sufEer'd you to kneel so long, 75 
Agrees not with your dignity nor ours ; 
Thus we excuse it : when we once are set 
In solemn council of election, 
We may not rise till somewhat be concluded. 
So much for that : touching your earnest suit, 80 

Your Majesty doth know how it concerns us. 
Comfort yourself, as we do hope the best I 
But tell us, madam, where's your husband now ? 

Emp, I left him at his prayers, good my lord. 

Sax. At prayers ? Madam, that's a miracle. 85 

PeU. Undoubtedly your Highness did mistake, 
Twas sure some book of conjuration ; 

1 think he never said pray'r in his life. 

Emp. Ah me, my fear, I fear, wiU take efiect t 
Your hate to him and love unto my brother 90 

Will break my heart and spoil th' imperial peace. 

Men. My Lord of Saxon, and Prince Palatine, 
This hard opinion yet is more than needs ; 
But, gracious madam, leave us to ourselves. 


Emp. Igo, and Heav'n, that holds the hearts of kings, 95 

Direct your counsels unto unity. Exit 

Boh. Now to the depth of that we have in hand. 
This is the question, whether the king of Spain 
Shall still continue in the royal throne, 

Or yield it up unto Plantagenet, 100 

Or we proceed unto a third election. 

Sax, Ere such a viperous, bloodthirsty Spaniard 
Shall suck the hearts of our nobility, 
Th' imperial sword which Saxony doth bear 
Shall be unsheath'd to war against the world. 105 

Pal. My hate is more than words can testify. 
Slave as he is, he murdered my father. 

Col. Prince Richard is the champion of the world. 
Learned and mild, fit for the government. 

Boh. And what have we to do with Englishmen ? 110 

They are divided from our continent. 
But now, that we may orderly proceed 
To our high office of election, 
To you, my Lord of Mentz, it doth belong, 
Having first voice in this imperial synod, 115 

To name a worthy man for Emperor. 

Men. It may be thought, most grave and reverend 
That, in respect of divers sums of gold. 
Which Richard of mere charitable love. 

Not as a bribe, but as a deed of alms, 120 

Disbursed for me unto the Duke of Braunschweig, 
That I dare name no other man but he ; 
Or should I nominate another prince. 
Upon the contrary I may be thought 

A most ingrateful wretch unto my friend ; 125 

But private cause must yield to public good ; 
Therefore, methinks, it were the fittest course 
To choose the worthiest upon this bench. 

Boh. We are aU Germans ; why should we be yok'd 
Either by Englishmen or Spaniards ? 1 30 

Sax. The Earl of Cornwall, by a full consent. 
Was sent for out of En^nd. 

Men. Though he were. 

Our later thoughts are purer than our first ; 
And to conclude, I think this end were best. 
Since we have once chosen him Emperor, ^35 


That some great prince of wisdom and of power, 
Whose countenance may overbear his pride» 
Be join'd in equal government with Alphonsus. 

Boh. Your Holiness hath soundly in few words 
Set down a mean to quiet all these broils. 140 

Tfi. So may we hope for peace, if he amend ; 
But shall Prince Richard then be join'd with him ? 

Pal. Why should your Highness ask that question* 
As if a prince of so high kingly birth 
Would live in couples with so base a cur ? 145 

Boh. Prince Palatine, such words do ill become thee* 

Sax. He said but right, and call'd a dog a dog. 

Boh. His birth is princely. 

Sax. His manners villainoas. 

And virtuous Richard scorns so base a yoke. 

Boh. My Lord of Saxon, give me leave to tell you, 1 50 

Ambition blinds your judgment in this case ; 
You hope, if by your means Richard be emperor. 
He, in requital of so great advancement, 
Will make the long-desired marriage up 

Between the Prince of England and your [daughter]; 155 

And to that end Edward, the Prince of Wales, 
Hath borne his uncle company to Germany. 

Sax. Why, King of Bohem, is't unknown to thee 
How oft the Saxon's sons have married queens. 
And daughters kings, yea, mightiest emperors ? 160 

If Edward like her beauty and behaviour 
He'll make no question of her princely birth ; 
But let that pass ; I say, as erst I said. 
That virtuous Richard scorns so base a yoke. 

Men. If Richard scorn, some one upon this bench, 165 

Whose power may overbear Alphonsus' pride, 
Is to be named. What think you, my lords ? 

Sax. I think it was a mighty mass of gold 
That made your Grace of this opinion. 

Men. My Lord of Saxony, you wrong me much, 170 

And know I highly scorn to take a bribe. 

Pal. I think you scorn indeed to have it known. 
But to the purpose : if it must be so. 
Who is the fittest man to join with him ? 

Col. First with an ox to plough will I be yoked. 175 

Men. [To Bohemia]. The fittest is your Grac^ in mine 


Boh. I am content, to stay these mntinies. 
To take upon me what you do impose. 

Sax. Why, here's a tempest quickly overblown. 
God give you joy, my lord, of half the Empire ; 180 

For me, I will not meddle in the matter. 
But warn your Majesty to have a care 
And vigilant respect unto your person. 
I'll hie me home to fortify my towns. 
Not to ofiend, but to defend myself. ^85 

Pal, Ha' with you, cousin, and adieu, my lords ; 
I am afraid this sudden knitted peace 
Will turn unto a tedious, lasting war ; 
Only thus much we do request you all. 

Deal honourably with the Earl of Cornwall ; 190 

And so adieu! Exeunt Saxon and Palsgrave 

Bran. I like not this strange farewell of the Duke's. 

Boh, In all elections some are malcontent. 
It doth concern us now with speed to know 
How the competitors will like of this; 195 

And therefore you, my Lord Archbishop of Trier, 
Impart this order of arbitrament 
Unto the Emperor ; bid him be content 
To stand content with half, or lose the whole. 
My Lord of Mentz, go you unto Prince Richard, aoo 

And tell him flatly here's no crown nor empire 
For English islanders ; tell him 'twere his best 
To hie him home to help the King his brother. 
Against the Earl of Leicester and the barons. 

Col. My Lord of Mentz, sweet words will qualify, 205 

When bitter terms will add unto his rage. 
'Tis no small hope that hath deceiv'd the Duke ; 
Therefore be mild: I know an Englishman^ 
Being flattered, is a lamb ; threat* ned, a Hon ; 
Tell him his charges, whatsoe'er they are, 210 

Shall be repaid with treble vantages ; 
Do this: we will expect their resolutions. 

Men, Brother of Collen, I entreat 3rour Grace, 
To take this charge upon you in my stead; 
For why, I shame to look him in the face. 215 

Col. Your Holiness shall pardon me in this ; 
Had I the profit I would take the pains : 
With shame enough yoiu: Grace may bring the message. 

Men. Thus am I wrong'd, God knows, unguiltily. • « 


Bran. Then arm your countenance wiiJi innocency, 390 
And boldly do the message to the Prince ; 
For no man else ^will be the messenger. 

Men, Why then Imust, since there's no remedy. 

Exit Mentz 

Bran, If Heav'n, that guides the hearts of mighty men. 
Do calm the minds of these great potentates, 225 

And make them like of this arbitrament, ' 
Sweet Peace will triumph thoroufgfa Christendom, 
And Germany shall bless this happy day. 

Enter Alexander de Toledo, the Fiige 

Alex, O me most miserable ! O my dear father I 

Boh. What means this passionate accent ? What art 
thou 330 

That sounds these exclamations in our ears ? 

Alex, Pardon me. Princes, I have lost a father. 
O me, the name of father kills my heart ! 
O, I shall never see my father more, 
H'as ta'en his leave of me for age and age ! 235 

Col, What was thy father ? 

Alex, Ah me I What was a not ? 

Noble, rich, valiant, well-belov'd of all. 
The glory and the wisdom of his age. 
Chief secretary to tiie Emperor. 

Col, Lorenzo de Toledo ! Is he dead ? 340 

Alex, Dead, ay me, dead ! Ay me, my life is dead I 
Strangely this night bereft of breath and sense. 
And I, poor I, am conforted in nothing, 
But that the Emperor laments with me ; 
As I exclaim, so he ; he wrings his hands, 245 

And makes me mad to see his Majesty 
Excruciate himself with endless sorrow. 

Col, The happiest news that ever I did hear I 
Thy father was a villain murderer. 

Witty, not wise, lov'd like a scorpion, 250 

Grown rich by the impoverishing of others. 
The chiefest cause of all these mutinies. 
And Caesar's tutor to all villany. 

Alex, None but an open liar terms him so. 

Col, What, boy, so malapert ? 355 

Boh. Good CoUen, bear with him, it was his father ; 
Dutchland ia blessed in Lorenzo's death. 


Bran» Did never live a viler-minded man. 

Ex&un$ [the Electors]. Manet Alexander 

Aisx. Nor king, nor Churfurst should be privilcg'd 
To call me boy, and rail upon my father, 260 

Were I wehrhaftig ; but in Germany 
A man must be a boy at forty years. 
And dares not draw his weapon at a dog, 
Till, being soundly box'd about the ears, 
His lord and master gird him with a sword. 265 

The time will come I shall be made a man ; 
Till then I'll pine with thought of dire revenge. 
And Uve in hell until I take revenge. 

ACT n 


The Hall of Elector s\ 

Enter Alphonsus, Richard Earl of Cornwall^ Mentz, Trier, 
Prince Edward, Bohemia, CoUen, Brandenburg, Attend- 
ants, and Pages with a sword. 

Boh. Behold, here come the Princes hand in hand, 
Fleas'd highly with the sentence, as it seems. 

Alp. Princes and pillars of the monarchy. 
We do admire your wisdoms in this cause, 
And do accept the King of Bohemia 5 

As worthy partner in the government. 
Alas, my lords, I flatly now confess 
I was alone too weak to underprop 
So great a burden as the Roman Empire, 
And hope to make you all admire the course 10 

That we intend in this conjunction! 

Rich. That I was call'd from England with consent 
Of all the seven Electors to this place 
Yourselves best know, who wrote for me to come. 
'Twas no ambition mov'd me to the journey, 15 

But pity of your half-declining State ; 
Which being likely now to be repair'd. 
By the united force of these two kings, 
I rest content to see you satisfied. 

Men. Brave Earl, wonder of princely patience, 30 

I hope your Grace will not misthink of me. 
Who for ypur good, and for the Empire's best. 
Bethought this means to set the world at peace. 

C.D.W , B B 


Ed. No doubt this means might have been thought upon. 
Although your Holiness had died in prison. 25 

Men. Peace, peace, young Prince, you want experience ! 
Your uncle knows what cares accompany 
And wait upon the crowns of mightiest kings. 
And glad he is, that he hath shak'd it off. 

Ed, Hark in your ear, my lord, hear me one word, 30 

Although it were more than a million. 
Which these two kings bestow'd upon your Grace, 
Mine uncle Richard's miUion sav'd your life. 

Men, You were best to say your uncle brib'd me then. 

Ed, I do but say mine uncle sav'd yovar life ; 35 

You know. Count Mansfield, your fellow-prisoner. 
Was by the Duke of Braunschweig put to death. 

Men. You are a child, my lord, your words are wind. 

Ed. You are a fox, my lord, and past a child. 

Boh, My Lord of Cornwall, your great forwardness. 40 

Crossing the seas with aid of Englishmen, 
Is more than we can any way requite ; 
But this 3rour admirable patience. 
In being pleased with our election. 

Deserves far more than thanks can satisfy : 45 

In an3rthing coinmand the Emperors, 
Who Uve to honour Richard, Earl of Cornwall. 

Alp, Our deeds shall make our protestations good ; 
Meanwhile, brave Princes, let us leave this place, 
And solace us with joy of this accord. 50 

[Ejif&uni omnes} 

A Room in The Cour(\ 

Enter Isabella, the Empress; Hedewick, the Duke of Saxon's 
daughter, apparelled like Fortune, drawn on a globe, with a 
cup in her hand, wherein are hay-leaves, whereupon are written 
the lots. A train of ladies following with music, [The Princes,} 

Emp. To gratulate this unexpected peace, 
This glorious league confirmed against all hope, 
Jojrful Isabella doth present this show 
Of Fortune's triumph, as the custom is 
At coronation of our Emperors. ^ 


If therefore every party be well-pleas'd. 
And stand content with this arbitrament. 
Then deign to do as your progenitors, 
And draw in sequence lots for offices. 

Alp. This is an order here in Germany 10 

For princes to disport themselves withal, 
In sign their hearts so firmly are conjoin'd 
That they will bear all fortunes equally; 
And that the world may know I scorn no state 
Or course of life to do the Empire good, 15 

I take my chance : [Draws a loi\ 

My fortune is to be the Forester. 

Emp, If we want ven'son, either red or fallow. 
Wild boar or bear, you must be fin'd, my lord. 

Boh, [drawing a loi\ The Emperor's Taster 1 1 20 

Emp. Your Majesty hath been tasted to so oft 
That you have need of small instructions. 

Rich, [drawing a lof] 1 am the Boor ; sister, what is 

my charge ? 
Emp. Tir'd Uke a carter and a clownish boor. 
To bring a load of wood into the kitchen. 25 

Now for myself [drawing] : 'faith, I am Chambermaid I 
I know my charge ; proceed unto the next. 

Alp. Prince Edward standeth melancholy still ; 
Please it your Grace, my lord, to draw your lot. 

Emp. Nephew, you must be solemn with the sad, 30 

And given to mirth in sportful company. 
The German princes, when they will be lusty. 
Shake off all cares, and clowns and they are fellows, 
Ed. Sweet aunt, I do not know the country guise. 
Yet would be glad to learn all fashions : 35 

Since I am next, good fortune be my guide. [He draws] 
Bran. A most ingenuous countenance hath this Prince, 
Worthy to be the King of England's heir. 

Ed. Be it no disparagement to 3^ou, my lords, 
I am your Emperor 1 40 

Alp. Sound trumpets ; God save the Emperor I 
Col. [drawing] The world could never worse have fitted 
me ! 
I am not old enough to be the Cook. 

JBmp. If you be cook, there is no remedy. 
But you must dress one mess of meat yourself, 45 

Bran, [drawing] I am Physician. 


Tri, [dfawing\ I am Secretary. 

Men, [drawing] I am the Jester. 

Ed. O excellent 1 Is yofir Holiness ihe Vice ? 
Fortune hath fitted you, i' faith, my lord ; 
You'll play the Aml^dexter cunningly. 50 

Men. Your Highness is too bitter in your jests. 

Alp, Come hither, Alexander, to comfort thee 
After the death of thy beloved father. 
Whose life was dear unto his Emperor, 

Thou shalt make one in this solemnity ; 55 

Yet er6 thoa draw, myself will honour thee. 
And as the custom is, make thee a man. 
Stand stifi, sir boy, now com'st thou to thy trial I 
Take this, and that, and therewithal this sword. 

He gives Alexander a box an tike ear or two 
If, while thon live, thou ever take the like 60 

Of me, or any man, I here pronounce 
Thou art a schehn, otherwise a man. 
Now draw thy lot, and fortune be thy speed. 

Ed. Unde, I pray, why did he box the fellow ? 
Foul lubber as he is to take such blows. 65 

Rich. Thus do tiie princes make their pages men. 

Ed, But that is strange to make a man with blows. 
We say in England that he is a man 
That like a man dare meet his enemy. 
And in my judgment 'tis the sounder trial. 70 

Alex, [drawing] Fortune hath made me Marshal of the 

Alp. Now what remains ? 

Emp. That Fortune draw her lot. 

[Hedewick ^rato^,] opens it and gives it to the 
Empress to read 

Emp. Sound trumpets ; Fortune is your Emperess. 

Alp. This happens right, for Fortune will be queen. 
Now, Emperor, you must unmask her face, 75 

And tell us how you like your Emperess; 
In my opinion England breeds no fairer. 

[Edward unmasks her'\ 

Boh. Fair Hedewick, the Duke of Saxon's daughter I 
Young Prince of England, you are bravely match'd. 

Ed. Tell me, sweet aimt, is that this Saxon Princess, 8i> 
Whose beauty's fame made Edward cross the seas ? 

Emp. Nephew, it is ; hath fame been prodigal. 


Or ovexsparing In the Princess' praise ? 

Ed. Fame, I accuse thee, thou didst niggardize 
And faintly sound my love's perfections. 85 

Great lady Fortune and fair Emperess, 
Whom chance this day hath thrown into my arms. 
More welcome than the Roman Emperess. 

Edward kissss her 

Hed. Sieh dock, das ist hier kein gebrauch I 
Mein Gott, ist das die Englisch manier ? 90 

Doss dich I 

Ed. What meaneth this ? Why chafes my Emperess ? 

Alp. Now by my troth, I did expect this jest; 
Prince Edward us'd his country fashion. 

Ed, I am an Englishman, why should I not ? 95 

Emp. Fie nephew Edward, here in Germany 
To kiss a maid ! a fault intolerable. 

Ed, Why should not German maids be kissed as well 
as others ? 

Ric, Nephew, because you did not know the fashion. 
And want the language to excuse yourself, zoo 

I'll be your spokesman to your Emperess. 

Ed, Excuse it thus : I like the first so well 
That, tell her, she shall chide me twice as much 
For such another : nay, tell her more than so, 
I'll double kiss on kiss and give her leave 105 

To chide and brawl and cry ten thousand Doss dich I 
And make her weary of her fretting humour 
Cre I be weary of my kissing vein. 
Doss dich t A jungfrau angry for a kiss I 

Emp. Nephew, she thinks you mock her in [your] mirth, xio 

Ed. I think the Princes make a scorn of me; 
If any do, I'll prove it with my sword 
That English courtship leaves it from the world. 

Boh, The pleasant'st aqcident that I have seen. 

Bran. Mel^inks the Prince is chaf'd as well as she. 115 

Rich. Gnddiges FrduUin. 

Hed. Doss dich I nmslsl^ ich arme kind eu schand&n ge^ 
macht w&rden ? 

Ed. Doss dich ! I have kiss'd as good as you ; 
Pray, uncle, tell her, if she mislike the kiss 120 

I'll take it off again with such another. 

Rich, Ei, liebes Frdui&in, nim es all /iSr giUe ; es ist diie 
Englisch manier und gebrauch. 


Hed, Euet Gnaden weiss [e]s tvohl, es ist tnir ein grosse sckande. 

Ed, Good aunt, teach me so much Dutch to ask her 
pardon. 125 

Emp. Say so : Gnddiges Frdulein, vergebet mir's; ich will's 
nimmermehr thun ; then kiss your hand three times 
upsy Dutch. 

Ed, Ich wilVs nimmermehr thun ; if I understand it 
That's as much to say as I'll do so no more. 130 

Emp. True, nephew I 

Ed, Nay, aunt, pardon me, I pray ; 

I hope to kiss her many thousand times, 
And shall I go to her like a great boy. 
And say, I will do so no more ? 

Emp, I pray, cousin, say as I tell you. 135 

Ed, Gnddiges Frdulein, vergebet mir*s ; ich will's nimmer^ 
mehr thun. 

Alp. FUrwahr, hein schand, 

Hed, Gnddiger hochgeborner FUrst und Herr, wenn ich 
hSnnte so viel Englisch sprechen, ich wollt' Euer Gnctden 140 
fUrwahr ein fiU geben ; ich hoffe aber, ich soil einnuU 
so viel lemen, doss sie mich verstehen soil, 

Ed. What sa3rs she ? 

Alp. O excellent I Young Prince, look to yourself I 
She swears she'll learn some English for your sake, 14$ 

To make you understand her when she chides. 

Ed. I'll teach her English, she shall teach me Dutch ; 
Gnddiges Frdulein, etc. 

Boh. It is great pity that the Duke of Saxon 
Is absent at this J03rful accident ; 150 

I see no reason, if his Grace were here. 
But that the marriage might be solemniz'd ; ' . . 

I think the Prince of Wales were well content. 

Ed. I left sweet England to none other end. 
And though the Prince, her father, be not here, 155 

This royal presence knows his mind in this. 

Emp. Since you do come so roundly to the purpose, 
'Tis time for me to speak ; the maid is mine, 
Giv'n freely by her father unto me; 

And to the end these broils may have an end, 160 

I give the father's interest and mine own 
Unto my nephew, Edward, Prince of Wales. 

Ed, A jewel of incomparable price ^* ''.. ^ ^ 


Your Majesty hath here bestowed on me ; 

How shall I ask her if she be content ? 165 

Emp. Say thus : 1st Eu&r Gnaden wohl hiemii zufrieden ? 

Ed. 1st Euer Gnaden wohl hiemii lufrieden ? 

Hed, Was Ihre Durchlauchtigkeit will, das will mein 
Voter, und was mein Voter will, damit muss ich zufrieden 
sein, 170 

Alp, It is enough, she doth confirm the match ; 
We will despatch a post unto her father. 
On Sunday shall the revels and the wedding 
Be both solemnized with mutual joy. 

Sound trumpets, each one look unto his charge 175 

For preparation of the festivals. 

Exeunt. Manent Alphonsus and Alexander 
Come hither, Alexander, thy father's joy. 
If tears, and sighs, and deep-fetch'd deadly groans 
Could serve t'evert inexorable fate. 

Divine Lorenzo, whom in life my heart, 180 

In death my soul and better art adores, 
Had to thy comfort and his prince's honour 
Surviv'd, and drawn this day this breath of life. 

Alex, Dread Caesar, prostrate on my bended knee, 
I thank your Majesty for all favours shown 185 

To my deceased father and myself. 
I must confess, I spend but bootless tears, 
Yet cannot bridle nature : I must weep. 
Or heart will break with burden of my thoughts ; 
Nor am I yet so young or fond withal 190 

Causeless to spend my gall and fret my heart ; 
'Tis not that he is dead, for all must die. 
But that I live to hear his life's reproach. 
O sacred Emperor, these ears have heard 
What no son's ears can unrevenged hear ; 195 

The Princes, all of them, but specially 
The Prince Elector, Archbishop of Collen, 
Revil'd him by the names of murderer, 
Arch-viUain, robber of the Empire's fame. 
And Caesar's tutor in all wickedness, 200 

And with a general voice applaus'd his death 
As for a special good to Christendom. 

Alp. Have they not reason to applaud the deed 
Which they, themselves have plotted ? Ah, my boy. 
Thou art too young to dive into their drifts. 205 


Alex, Yet old enough, I hope, to be reveng'd. 

Alp, What wilt thou do» or whither wilt thou run ? 

Alex, Headlong to bring them death, then die myself. 

Alp, .First hear the reason why I do mistrust them. 

Alex, They had no reason for my father's death, . 210 

And I scorn reason till they all be dead. 

Alp, Thou wilt not scorn my counsel in revenge ? 

Alex, My rage admits no counsel but revenge. 

Alp, First let me tell thee whom I do mistrust. 

Alex, Your Highness said you did mistrust them all. 215 

Alp, Yea, Alexander, all of them, and more than sdl 
My most especial, nearest, dearest friends. 

Alex, All's one to me, for know thou. Emperor, 
Were it thy father, brother, or thine Empress, 
Yea, were't thyself that didst conspire his death, 220 

This fatal hand should take away thy life. 

Alp, Spoke like a son, worthy so dear a father ; 
Be still and hearken, I will tell thee all. 
The Duke of Saxon — 

Alex, O, I thought no lessl 

Alp, Suppress thy choler, hearken to the rest. 225 

Saxon, I say, so wrought with flattering Mentz, 
Mentz with Bohemia, Trier, and Brandenburg 
(For Collen and the Palsgrave of the Rhein 
Were principals with Saxon in the plot). 

That, ia a general meeting to that purpose, 2jo 

The seven selected Emperor's Electors 
Most heinously concluded of the murder. 
The reason why they doom'd him unto death 
Was his deep wisdom and sound policy. 

Knowing, while he did live, my state was firm, 235 

He being dead, my hope must die with him. 
Now, Alexander, wiU we be reveng'd 
Upon this wicked whore of Babylon, 
This hideous monster with the seven-fold head ; 
We must with cunning level at the heart, 240 

[Which] pierc'd and perish'd all the body dies, 
Or strike we ofi her heads by one and one ; 
Behooveth us to use dexterity. 
Lest she do trample us imder her feet 
And triumph in our honour's overthrow. 245 

Alex. Mad and amaz'd to hear this tragic doom 
I do subscribe unto your sound advice. 


Alp. Then hear the rest ; these seven gave but the sen- 
A nearer hand put it m execution, 

And, but I lov'd Lorenzo as my life, 350 

I never would betray my dearest wife. 

Alex. What, what ? The Empress accessary too ? 

Alp, What cannot kindred do ? Her brother Richard, 
Hoping thereby to be an Emperor, 
Gave her a dram that sent him to his grave. 255 

Alex, O my poor father, wert thou such an e3re-soi>e 
That nine the greatest princes of the earth . 
Must be confederate in thy tragedy ? 
But why do I respect their mightiness. 

Who did not once respect my father's life ? 260 

Your Majesty may take it as you please, 
I'll be reveng'd upon your Emperess, 
On English Richard, Saxon, and the Palsgrave, 
On Bohem, Collen, Mentz, Trier, and Brandenburg. 
If that the Pope of Rome himself were one 265 

In this confederacy, undauhted I 
Amidst the college of his cardinals 
Would press and stab him in St. Peter's chair, 
Though clad in ail his pontificalibus. 

Alp, Why, Alexander, dost thou speak to me 270 

As if thou didst mistrust my forwardness ? 
No, thou shalt know my love to him was such. 
And in my heart I have proscrib'd them iail 
That had to do in this conspiracy. 

The bands of wedlock shall not serve her turn, 275 

Her fatal lot is cast among the rest ; 
And, to conclude, my soul doth Uve in hell 
Till I have set my foot upon their necks. 
That gave this spur of sorrow to my heart ; 
But with advice it must be managed, . 280 

Not with a headlong rage as thou intend'st ; 
Nor in a moment can it be perform'd ; 
This work requires long time, dissembling looks, 
Commix'd with undermining actions. 

Watching advantages to execute. 285 

Our foes are mighty, and their number great ; 
It therefore follows that our stratagems 
Must branch forth into manifold deceits. 
Endless devices^ bottomless conclusions. 


^ AUx. What by your Majesty is prescrib'd to me zgo 

That wiU I execute, or die the death. 

I am content to suck my sorrows up, 

And with dull patience will attend the time. 

Gaping for every opportunity 

That may present the least occasion, 295 

Although each minute multiply mine anguish. 

And to my view present a 'ttiousand forms 

Of senseless bodies in my father's shape, 

Yelling with open throat for just revenge. 

Alp. Content thyself, he shall not cry in vain, 300 

I have already plotted Richard's death. 

Alex. That hath my father's sacred ghost inspir'd. 

tell me, shall I stab him suddenly ? 
The time seems long till I be set a-work. 

Alp» Thou knowest, in gripping at our lots to-day, 305 

It was Prince Richard's lot to be the Boor, 
So that his office is to drive the cart 
And bring a load of wood into the kitchen. 

Alex. O excellent ! Your Grace being Forester, 
As in the thicket he doth load the cart, 310 

May shoot him dead, as if he were a deer. 

Alp, No, Alexander, that device were shallow. 
Thus it must be : there are two very boors 
Appointed for to help him in the wood. 

These must be brib'd, or cunningly seduc'd, 315 

Instead of helping him to murder him. 

Alex. Verbum satis sapienii : it is enough. 
Forttme hath made me Marshal of the sports, 

1 hope to marshal them to th' devil's feast. 

Hot you the rest, this wiU I execute, 320 

Dutch boors [are] towsandt schehns and gold [doth] tempt 

Alp» 'Tis right ; about it then, but cunningly. 

Alex. Else let me lose that good opinion 
Which by your Highness I desire to hold. 
By letters which I'll strew within the wood 325 

I'll undermine the boors to murder him, 
Nor shall they know who set them so a-work ; 
Like a familiar will I fly about 
And nimbly haunt their ghosts in every nook. 

Exit [Alexander] Manet Alphonsus 

Alp» This one nail helps to drive the other out. 330 


I slew the jbther and bewitch the son 

With power of words to be the instrument • ^ 

To rid my foes with danger of his life. 

How easily can subtle age entice 

Such credulous young novices to their death ! 335 

Huge wonders will Alphonsus bring to pass 

By the mad mind of this enraged boy ; 

Even they which think themselves my greatest friends 

Shall fall by this deceit ; ysa, my arch-enemies 

Shall turn to be my chief confederates. 34^ 

My solitary walks may breed suspect; 

I'll therefore give myself to company. 

As I intended nothing but these sports, 

Yet hope to send most actors in this pageant 

To revel it with Rhadamant in hell. Exit 345 

[SCENE in 

A Wood near Frankfort] 

Enter Richard Earl of Cornwall, like a clown 

Rick. How far is Richard now unlike the man 
That cross'd the seas to win an empery I 
But as I plod it like a plumper boor 
To fetch in fuel for the kitchen fire, 

So every one in his vocation 5 

Labours to make the pastimes plausible ; 
My nephew Edward jets it through the court 
With princess Hedewick, Empress of his fortune ; 
The demi-Caesar, in his hunter's suit, 

Makes all the court to ring with horns and hounds ; 10 

CoUen, the Cook, bestirs him in the kitchen* 
But that which joys me most in all these sports 
Is Mentz, to see how he is made an ass. 
The common scorn and by-word of the court ; 
And every one, to be the same he seems, 15 

Seems to forget to be the same he is. 
Yet to my robes I cannot suit my mind, •*-:.!. 

Nor with my habit shake dishonour oS, 
The seven Electors promis'd me the Empire, 
The perjur'd Bishop Mentz did swear no less, 20 

Yet I have seen it shar'd before my face. 


While my best friends do hide their heads for shame ; 

I bear a show of ontward full content. 

But grief thereof hath almost kiU'd my hea|-t. 

Here rest thee, Richard; think upon a mean 2$ 

To end thy life, or to repair thine honour, 

And vow never to see fair England's bounds 

Till thou in Aix be crowned Emperor. 

Holla, mfttihinlnt there cometh company. 

The boors, I trow, ihat come to. hew the wood» 30 

Which I must carry to the kitchen fire ; 

I'll lie awhile and listen to their talk. [He teHresi 

Enter Hans and Jerick, (wo Dutch boors 

Jef» Komm hier, Hans, war bist duf Warum bist du 
so traurich t Bis frolick ! Kannst vel gelt verdienen, wir wUl 
ihn bet pots tausend tot schlagen, 35 

Hans. Lot mich die briefs sehen. 

Rich. Methinks they talk of murdering somebody ; 
I'll listen more. 

Jer, [Reads the letter] * Hans und Jerick, meine Hebe 
freunde, ich bitte, lasset es bei euch bleiben in geheim, und 40 
scMaget den Engelldnder eu tod,* 

Rich. What's that ? ' Hans and Jerick, my good friend[s], 
I pray be secret, and murder the Englishman.' 

/ar. Hdr' weiter : [reads] * denn er ist hein bauer nicht, 
er ist ein junker und hat viel geld und kleinodien bei sick.' 45 

Rich. * For he is no boor, but a gentieman, and hath store 
of gold and jewels by him.' 

Jer. Noch weiter : [reads] * ihr soUt solche gelegenheit nicht 
versdumen, und wenn ihr gethan habet, will ich euch sagen, was 
ich fiif ein guier k&rl bin, der euch rath gegeben habe.' 50 

Rich. * SHp not this opportunity, and when you have done 
I will discover who gave you the counsel.' 

Jer. Wat sagst du, wilt du es thun f 

Hans. Wat will ich nicht fik gelt thun / sieh, potg tausend, 
dor ist er I [Discovering Richard] 55 

Jer. J a, bei pots tausend sapperment, er isfs/ Holla, 
guten morgen, glOck zu, junker. 

Hans. Junker f Der dUvel, he is ein bauer. 

Rich. Du bist ein schelm, weich von mir. 

Jer. Holla, holla, bist du so hoffdrtig f Junker bamf^ 60 
komnU hier, od$r dieser und jener soil euch holen* 


Rich. Ick bin ein Ftirsi, berUhrt mich nichtf iht schshns^ ihr 

Bdh. Sla tau, sla tau^ wir wiU you fursUich tracHeven I 

Richard, having nothing in his hand but his whip, 
defends himself awhile and then falls down as 
if he were dead 
Rich, O Gottf nim meine Seele in deine Hdnde. 65 

Jer. O excellent, hurtich I He is tot, he is tot/ Lat uns 
see wot he hat for gelt bei sich. [Plunders the body.] Holla, hier 
is all enough, aU salt ; dor is for dich, und dor is for mich, und 
dit will ich dortau haben, 

Jerick puis the chain about his nech. 
Hans. How so, Hans Nafrhaie, gev mir die hette hier. 70 
Jer. J a, ein drech ; dit hett stehet hupsch um mein hols, dit 
will ich tragen. 

Hans. Dot dich Potz Velten leiden, dot soUu nimmermehr 
thun, du schelm. 
Jer. Wat, sollt du mich schelm heiten f Nim dot/ 75 

[Strihes him\ 
Hans. .Dot dich hundert tonnen dapels / Harr, ich will dich 

Jer. Wiltu hauen oder stechen f 
Hans. Ich will redHch hauen. 

Jer. Nun wohlan, dor ist mein rUch, sla taul &> 

They must have axes made for the nonce to fight 
withal, and while one strikes, the other holds his 
bach without defence. 
Hans. Nim du dot. [SttUies him\ Und dor hast mein 

Jer. Noch a mal. [Strikes him, Hans falls] excellent, 
ligst du dor! Nun will ich alles haben, gelt und hett, and alles 
mit einander. O hurHg, frisch^, lustig, nun bin ich ein 
hurtig junker 1 85 

Richard rises up again and snatcheth up the fellow's 
hatchet thai was slain 

Rich. Ne Hercules [quidem] contra duos : 
Yet policy hath gone beyond them both. 
Du hudler, schelm, morder, kehre dich, siehstu michf Gebe 
mir die hett und gelt wieder. 

Jer. Wat, bisiu wieder Ubendig worden, so muss ich mich 90 
wehren ; wat wiltu, stechen oder hauen f 

Rich. So will ich machen, du schelm. [Stfiies him downl 


Jet. U^ls.] Hofff harr t Bisiu ein redlich herl, so ficki 
redlich. O ich sterb, ich sterb^ lat mich leben/ 

Rich. Sagt mir dann, wer hat die brief e gesckrieben f Lie 95 
nichi^ sondem sagt die wahrheit, 

Jer, O mein frammer, guter, edler, gestrenger junker ^ dor 
ist das gelt und kett wieder, you soil alles haben, aber wer haU 
die brief e gesckrieben, dat weit ich bei tneiner seele nicht. 

Rich. Ldeg dor stUly still ich sag. 100 

The villain sweats and deeply doth protest 
He knows not who incited them to this. 
And, as it seems, the scroll imports no less. 
So stirb du mir, schelm I [Kills him] 

Jer. O ich sterb, awe^ awe, awe I Dat dich der dOvel hole i 105 

As Richard kills the Boor, emter Saxon and the 


Sax. Pfui dich an, loser schelm, hastu dein gesellen tot 
geschlagen f 

Pal. Lasst uns den schelmen angreifen. 

Rich. Call you me schelm ? How dare you then. 
Being princes, offer to lay hands on me ? no 

That is the hangman's- office here in Dutchland. 

Sax. But this is strange, our boors can speak no English ; 
What bistu more than a damn'd murderer ? 
That thou art so much we are witnesses. 

Rich. Can then this habit alter me so much T15 

That I am call'd a villain by my friends ? 
Or shall I dare once to suspect your Graces, 
That for you could not make me Emperor, 
Pitying my sorrow through mine honour lost» 
You set these slaves to rid me of my life ? 120 

Yet far be such a thought from Richard's heart. 

Pal. How now ? What, do I hear Prince Richard speak ? 

Rich. The same ; but wonder that he lives to speak. 
And had not policy help'd above strength 
These sturdy swains had rid me of my life. 125 

Sax. Far be it from your Grace for to suspect us. 

Rich. Alas I I know not whom I should suspect ; 
But yet my heart cannot misdoubt your Graces. 

Sax. How came your Highness into this apparel ? 

Rich. We, as the manner is, drew lots for offices, 130 

My hap was hardest, to be made a carter ; 
And by this letter which some viUain wrote 


I was betrayed here to be murdered ; 

But Heav'n, which doth defend the innocent, 

Arm'd me with strength and policy together, 135 

That I escap'd out of their treacherous snare. 

Pal. Were it well sounded, I dare lay my life 
The Spanish tyxant knew of this conspiracy ; 
Therefore the better to dive into the depth 
Of this most devilish murderous complo^ 140 

As also secretly to be beholders 
Of the long-wish'd-for wedding of your daughter, 
We will disrobe these boors of their apparel* 
Clapping their rustic cases on our backs, 
And help your Highness for to. drive the cart. 145 

'T may be the traitor that did write these lines> 
MistaJdng us for them, will show himself. 

Rich. Prince Palatine, this plot doth please me well ; 
I make no doubt, if we deal cunningly. 
But we shall find the writer of this scroll. 150 

Sax. And in that hope I will disrobe this slave ; 
Come, Princes, in the neighbouring thicket here 
We may disguise ourselves and talk at pleasure ; 
Fie on him, heavy lubber, how he weighs. 

[Dragging in Jerick] 

Rich, The sin of murder hangs upon his soul, 155 

It is no marvel, then, if he be heavy. 

Ex&unt [dragging in Hans] 

ACT in 

A . Room in the Cour^ 

Enter to the Revels Edward with an Imperial Crown ; Hedewick, 
the Empress ; Bohemia, the taster ; Alphonsus, the forester ; 
Mentz, the jester ; Empress, the chambermaid ; Brandenburg, 
the physician ; Trier, the secretary ; Alexander, the marshal, 
with his marshaPs Staff; and all the rest in their proper 
apparel f and Attendants and Pages 

Alex, Princes and princes' superiors, lords and lords' fel- 
lowsy gentlemen and gentlemen's masters, and all the rest of 
the states here assembled, as well masculine as feminine, be it 
known onto you by these^presents, that I, Alexander de Toledo^ 
Fortune's chief Marshal, do will and command you« by the 5 


anthority of my said office, to take your places in "v^^^f^r 
and form following : first, the Emperor and the Empress, tfaien 
the Taster, the Secretary, the Forester, the Physician ; as 
for the Chambermaid and m3rself we will take our places at 
the nether end ; the Jester is to wait up and live by the lo 
crumbs that fall from the Emperor's trencher. But now I 
have marshalled you to the tsLble, what remains ? 

Men, Every fool can tell that; when men are set to 
dinner they commonly expect meat. 

Ed. That's the best jest the Fool made since he came into 1 5 
his office. Marshal, walk into the kitchen and see how the 
Churfurst of Collen bestirs himself. Exitufus Alexander 

M&n. Shall I go with him too ? I love to be employed 
in the kitchen. 

Ed. I prithee go, that we may be rid of thy wicked Jests. 20 

Men. Have with thee, Marshal ; the Fool rides thee. 

Exit on Alexander's hack 

Alp. Now by mine honour, my lord of Mentz plays the 
fool the worst that I ever saw. 

Ed. He does all by conixaries, iar I am sure he played 
the wise man like a fool, and now he plays the fool wisely. as 

Alp. Princes and Churfursts, let us frolic now ; . 
This is a joyful day to Christendom, 
When Christian princes join in amity. 
Schinck bowls of RheiQpfal[z] and the purest wine ; 
We'll spend this evening lusty upsy Dutch 30 

In honour of this unexpected league. 

Emp. Nay, gentle Forester, there you range amiss ! 
His looks are fitly suited to his thoughts. 
His glorious Empress makes his heart triumph. 
And heart's triumphing makes his countenance staid 35 

In contemplation of his life's delight. 

Ed, Good aunt, let me excuse myself in this ; 
I am an Emperor but for a day. 
She Empress of my heart while life doth k^st ; 
Then give me leave to use imperial looks — 40 

Nay, if I be an Emperor I'll take leave — 
And here I do pronounce it openly. 
What I have lately whisper'd ia her ears, 
I love mine Empress more than empery, 
I love her looks above my fortune's hope. 45 

Alp. Saving your looks, dread Emperor, €S giU a bowl 
Unto the health of your fair bride and Empress. 


Ed, Sam GoU^ $s soil mir $in Hebe trunk sein / So much 
Dutch have I learned since I came into Germany. 

Bran, When yon have drunk a dozen of these bowls, 50 

So can your majesty with a full mouth 
TroU out high Dutch ; till then it sounds not right. 
Drauff es gilt nock eins, Ihr Majestdt, 

Edw, Sam Gott^ lass laufen. 

Boh, My Lord of Brandenburg, spoken like a good Dutch 
brother, 55 

But most unlike a good physician ; 
You should consider what he has to do, 
His bride will give you little thanks to-night. 

Alp, Ha, ha, my lord, now give me leave to laugh ; 
He need not therefore shun one beaker full. 60 

In Saxon land you know it is the use. 
That the first night the bridegroom spares the bride. 

Boh, 'Tis true, indeed ; that had I quite forgotten. 

Ed, How understand I that ? 

Alp, That the first night 

The bride and bridegroom never sleep together. 65 

Ed. That may well be, perchance they wake together. 

Boh, Nay, without fallace, they have several beds. 

Ed, Ay, in one chamber, that's most princely. 

Alp, Not only several beds, but several chambers, 
Lock'd soundly too with iron bolts and bars. 70 

Emp, Believe me, nephew, that's the custom here. 

Ed, O, my good aunt, the world is now grown new ; 
Old customs are but superstitions. 
I'm sure this day, this presence all can witness, 
The high and mighty I^ince th' Archbishop of CoUen, 75 

Who now ia busy in the scullery, 
Join'd us together in St. Peter's church. 
And he that would disjoin us two to-night, 
'Twixt jest and earnest be it proudly spoken. 
Shall eat a piece of ill-digesting iron. 80 

Bride, unit du dis nacht bet me schlapen ? 

Hed, Da behOU mich Gott far ; ich hoffe Eure Majestdt 
will's von mir nicht begehren, 

Ed, What says she ? BehOie mich GoU fOr ? 

Alp, She says God bless her from such a deed. 85 

Ed* Tush, Empress, clap thy hands upon thy head. 
And God wiU bless thee ; I have a Jacob's staff , 
Shall take the elevation of the pole; 

C.D.W. F F 


For I have heard it said« the Dutch north-star 

Is a degree or two higher than ours. 90 

Boh, Nay, though we talk, let's drink, and. Emperor, 
I'll tell you plainly what 3rou must trust unto ; 
Can they deceive you of your bride to-night. 
They'll surely do't, therefore look to yourself. 

Ed» If she deceive me not, let all do their worst. 95 

Alp, Assure you, Emperor, she'll do her best. 

Ed, 1 think the maids in Germany are mad ; 
Ere they be married they will not kiss, 
And, being married, will not go to bed. 

We'll drink about, let* s talk no more of this ; 100 

Well-wam'd half-arm'd, our English proverb say[s]. 

Enter Alexander 

Alp. Holla, Marshal, what says the Cook ? 
Belike he thinks we have fed so well already. 
That we disdain his simple cookery. 

Alex. 'Faith, the Cook says so, that his office was to dress 105 
a mess of meat with that wood which the English I^ince 
should bring in, but he hath neither seen Dutch wood nor 
EngUsh Prince, therefore he desires you hold him excused. 

Alp. I wonder where Prince Richard stays so long. 

Alex. An't please your Majesty, he's come at length, 1 10 

And with him has he brought a crew of boors 
A[nd] hupsch boor-maikins, fresh as flowers in May, 
With whom they mean to dance a Saxon round. 
In honour of the bridegroom and his bride. 

Ed. So has he made amends for his long tarrying ; 115 
I prithee marshal them into the presence. 

Alp, [aside to Alexander.] Lives Richard, then ? I'd 
thought thou'dst made him sure. 

Alex. O, I could tear my flesh to think upon't I 
He lives, and secretly hath brought with him 
The Palsgrave and the Duke of Saxony, 120 

Clad Uke two boors, ev'n in the same apparel 
That Hans and Jerick wore when they went out 
To murder him. 
It now behoves us to be circumspect. 

Alp. It likes me not. Away, Marshal, bring them ! 125 

Exit Alexander 
I long to see this sport's conclusion. 

Boh. Is't not a lovely sight to see this couple 


Sit swvefly billing, like two turtle-doves ? 

Alp. I promise you, it sets my teeth an edge. 
That I must take mine Empress in mine arms. 130 

Come hither, Isabel, though thy robes be homely. 
Thy face and countenance holds colour stilL 

Entsf Alexander, CoUen, Mentz, Richard, Saxon, Palsgrave, 
CoUenrooA, with a gammon of raw bacon, and links or 
puddings in a platter ; Richard, Palsgrave, Saxon, Mentz, 
like clownSf with each of them a mitre, with corances on 
their heads. 

Col. Dread Emperor and Emperess, for to-day, 
I, your appointed Cook until to-morrow. 
Have by the Marshal sent my just excuse, 135 

And hope your Highness is therewith content. 
Our Carter here, for whom I now do speak. 
Says that his axle-tree broke by the way ; 
That is his answer, and, for you shall not famish. 
He and his fellow boors of the next dorp, 140 

Have brought a schinke[n] of good raw bacon. 
And that's a common meat with us, unsod. 
Desiring you, you would not scorn the fare ; 
'Twill make a cup of wine taste nippitate. 
Ed. Welcome, good fellows, we thank you for your present 145 
Rich. So spiel fresh up, and let us rommer dantMen. 
Alex. Please it yoya Highness to dance with your bride ? 
Ed. Alas I I cannot dance your German dances. 
Boh. I do beseech your Highness mock us not ; 
We Germans have no changes in our dances, 150 

An Almain and an npspring, that is aU. 
So dance the princes, burghers, and the boors. 
Bran. So danc'd our ancestors for thousand years. 
Ed. It is a sign the Dutch are not new-fangled. 
I'U follow in the measure ; Marshal, lead \ 155 

Alexander and Mentz have the foredance, with 
each of them a glass of wine in their hands ; 
then Edward and Hedewick, Palsgrave and 
Empress, and two other couple, after drum 
and trumpet. The Palsgrave whispers with 
the Empress 
Alp. I think the boor is amorous of my Empress ; 
Fort, bauer, and Idffel morgen, when thou com'st to house. 


C<a. {To Prince Edward]. Now is yonr Grace's time to 
steal away ; 
Look to't, or dse you'll lie alone to-night. 

Edward steals away the Bride i6o 
Alex, {drinketh to the Palsgrave) 'S gilt, bourn. 
Pal. Sam Gott / 

The Palsgrave requests the Empress. 
Ey fungfraUf help mich doch / Ey pmgfrau^ trinh / [To 
Alphonsus] Es giU^ guier freund^ ein frohlichtn trunh. 
Alp. Sam Gottf mein freundt ich wHl gem bescheid th$m. 
Alphonsus takes the cup of the Pal3gEave and 
drinks to the King of Bohemia, and after he 
htUh drunk puis poison into H^e beaker 
Half this I drink unto your Highness' health ; 165 

It is the first since we were join'd in office. 
Boh. I ihank your Majesty, I'll pledge you half. 

As Bohemia is a-drinktng, ere he hath drunk it 
all out, Alphonsus pulls the beaker from his 
Alp. Hold, hold, yova Majesty, drink not too much. 
Boh. What means 3rour Highness ? 

Alp, Methinks that something grates between my teeth, 170 
Pray God there be not poison in the bowl I 
Boh. Marry, Grod forbid 1 

Alesf. So were I pepper'd. 

Alp. I highly do mistrust this schelmish boor ; 
Lay hands on him, I'll make him drink the rest. 
[Pal.} Was ist, was ist, wat will you mit me machen t 175 
Alp. Drink out, drink out, oder der diivel soil dith holen. 
Pal. Ey gebt you to frieden, ich will gem trinken. 
Sax. Drink not. Prince Palatine, throw it on the ground ; 
It is not good to trust his Spanish flies. 

[Tke Palsgrave spills the wine] 
Boh. Saxon and Palsgrave I This cannot be good. 180 

Alp. 'Twas not for nought my mind misgave me so ; 
This hath Prince Richard done t' entrap our hves. 
Ric. No, Alphonsus, I disdain to be a traitor. 

[They draw} 
Emp. O, sheathe your swords, forbear these needless 

Alp. Away, I do mistrust thee as the rest. 185 

Boh. Lords, hear me speak to pacify these broils, t 
For. my part I feel no distemperature. 


How do you fed youxsdf ? 

Alp, I cannot tell. 

Not ill, and y^ metMnks I am not well. 

Boh, Were it a poison, 'twould begin to work. 190 

Alp, Not so, all poisons do not work alike. 

Pal, If there were poison in, which God forbid. 
The Empress and myself and Alexander 
Have cause to fear as well as any other. 

Alp, Why didst thou throw tlus wine upon the earth ? 195 
Hadst thou but drunk, thou hadst satisfied our minds. 

Pal, I will not be enforc'd by Spanish hands. 

Alp, If all be well with us, that scuse shall serve $ 
If not, the Spaniard's blood will be reveng'd. 

Rich, Your Majesty is more afraid liiaa hurt. aoo 

Boh, For me, I do not fear myself a whit ; 
Let all be friends, and forward with our mirth. 

Enter Edward, in his night-gown and his shirt 

Rich, Nephew, how now ? Is all well with you ? 

Boh, I lay my life Hie Prince has lost his bride. 

Ed, I hope not so» she is but stray'd a little. 205 

Alp, . Your Grace must not be angry, though we laugh. 

Ed, If it had happen'd by default of mine. 
You oodght have worthily laugh'd me to scorn: 
But to be so deceived, so over-r^ich'd, 

Even as I meant to clasp her in mine arms, 210 

The grief is intolerable, not to be guess' d. 
Or comprehended by the th6ught of any. 
But by a man that hath been so deceived, 
And that's by no man living but myself. 

Sax, My princely son-in-law, God give you joy. 215 

Ed, Of what, my princely father ? 

Sax, C my daughter. 

Your new-betrothed wi& and bedfellow. 

Ed, 1 thank 3rou, father ; indeed, I must conies 
She is my wife, but not my bedfellow. 

Sax. How so, 3roung prince? I saw 3rou steal her faencot 220 
And, as me thought, she went full willingly. 

Ed. 'Tis true, I stole her finely from amongst yoii» 
And, by the Archbishop of CoUen's help,. 
Got her alone into ihe bride^chamber, 

Where having lock'd the doon tfaoiightall was well. 205 

I could not speak, but pointed to €he bed ; 


She answer'd Ja and gan for to unlace her ; 

I, seeing that, suspected no deceit. 

But straight untruss'd my points, uncas'd m3rself. 

And in a moment slipp'd between the sheets: 230 

There lying in deep contemplation. 

The Princess of herdelf drew near to me. 

Gave me her hand, spake prettily in Dutch, 

I know not what, and kiss'd me lovingly. 

And, as I shrank out of my lukewarm place 235 

To make her room, she clapp'd thrice with her feet. 

And through a trap-door sunk out of my sight. 

Knew I but her confederates in the deed — 

I say no more. 

Emp, Tush, cousin, be content ; 

So many lands, so many fashions ; 240 

It is the German use, be not impatient. 
She will be so much welcomer to-morrow. 

Rich, Come, nephew, we'll be bedfellows to-night. 

Ed, Nay, if I find her not, I'll he alone ; 
I have good hope to ferret out her bed, 245 

And so good-night, sweet Princes, all at once. 

Alp. Good-night to all ; Marshal, discharge the train* 

AUx. To bed, to bed, ^ Marshal cries 'tis time. 

Flourish of comets, ExeuiU 
[Alexander conceals himself behind the arras] 

Manent Saxon, Richard, Palsgrave, CoUen, Empress 

Sax. Now, Princes, it is time that we advise ; 
Now we are all fast in the fowler's gin, 250 

Not to escape his subtle snares alive. 
Unless by force we break the nets asunder. 
When he begins to cavil and pick quarrels, 
I wiU not trust him in the least degree. 

Emp. It may beseem me evil to mistrust 255 

My lord and Emperor of so foul a fact ; 
But love unto his honour and your hves 
Makes me with tears entreat your Excellencies 
To fly with speed out of his dangerous reach. 
His cloudy brow foretells a sudden storm 260 

Of blood, not natural, but prodigious. 

Rich. The castle-gates are shut, how should we fly ? 
But were they open I would lose my life. 
Ere I would leave my nqphew to the slaughter % 


He and his bride were sure to bear the brunt. 265 

Sax. Could I get out of doors I'd venture that, 
And 3ret I hold their persons dear enough. 
I would not doubt but ere the morning sun 
Should half-way run his course into the south. 
To compass and begirt him in his fort, 270 

With Saxon lansknights and brunt-bearing Switzeis, 
Who lie in ambuscado not &r hence. 
That he should come to composition. 
And with safe conduct bring into our tents 
Both bride and bridegroom and all other friends. 275 

Emp, My chamber-window stands upon the wall. 
And thence with ease you may escape away. 

Sax. Prince Richard, 3rou will bear me company ? 

Rich. I will, my lord. 

Sax. And you. Prince Palatine ? 

Pal. The Spanish t3rrant hath me in suspect 280 

Of poisoning him, I'll therefore stay it out ; 
To fly upon 't were to accuse m3^self. 

Emp. If need require, I'll hide the Palatine 
UntQ to-morrow, if 3rou stay no longer. 

Sax. If God be with us, ere to-morrow noon 285 

We'll be with ensigns spread before the walls ; 
We leave dear pledges of our quick return. 

Emp. May the heavens prosper your just intents I 


[Alex, coming forward.] This dangerous plot was happily 
Here didst thou listen in a blessed hour. 290 


Enter Alphonsus 

[Alp.] Alexander, where dost thou hide thyself ? 
I've sought thee in each comer of the court, ' 

And now or never must thou play the man. 

Alex. And now or never must your Highness stir ; 
Treason hath round encompassed 3rour life. 295 

Alp. I have no leisure now to hear thy talk: 
Seest thou this key ? 

Alex. Intends your Majesty 

That I should steal into the Princes' chambers, 
And sleeping stab them in their beds to-night ? 
That cannot be. 

Alp. Wilt thou not hear me speak ? 300 


Alex. The Prince of England, Saxon, and of CoUen, 
Are in the Empress' chamber privily. 

Alp» All this is nothing, they would murder me, 
I come not there to-night ; seest thou this key ? 

Alex. They mean to fly out at the chamber-mndow, 305 
And raise an army to besiege your Grace ; 
Now may your Highness take them with the deed. 

Alp. The Prince of Wales, I hope, is none of them. 

Alex. Him and his bride by force they will recover. 

Alp. What makes the cursed Palsgrave of the Rhein ? 310 

Alex. Him hath the Empress taken to her charge 
And in her closet means to hide him safe. 

Alp. To hide him in her closet ? Of bold deeds 
The dearest charge that e'er she undertook. 
Well, let them bring their complots to an end, 315 

I'll undermine to meet them in their works. 

Alex. WiU not 3rour Grace surprise them ere they fly ? 

Alp. No, let them bring their purpose to eflect, 
I'll fall upon them at my best advantage. 
Seest thou this key ? There, take it, Alexander, 320 

Yet take it not, unless thou be resolv'd — 
Tush, I am fond to make a doubt of thee 1 
Take it, I say, it doth command all doors, 
And will make open way to dire revenge. 

Alex, I know not what your Majesty doth mean. 325 

Alp. Hie thee with speed into the inner chamber 
Next to the chapel, and there shalt thou And 
The dainty trembling bride couch'd in her bed, 
Having beguil'd her bridegroom of his hopes. 
Taking her feurewell of virginity, 330 

Which she to-morrow night expects to lose. 
By night all cats are grey, and in tiie dark 
She will embrace thee for the Prince of Wales, 
Thinking that he hath found her chamber out; 
Fall to thy business and make few words, 335 

And having pleas'd tiiy senses with delight. 
And flll'd thy beating veins with stealing joy. 
Make thence again before the break of day. 
What stiange events will follow this device 
We need not study on; our foes shall find. 340 

How now, — how stand'st thou ? — ^hast thou not the heart ? 

Alex. Should I not have the heart to do this deed, 
I were a bastard villain, and no man ; 


Her sweetness and the sweetness of revenge 

Tickles my senses in a double sense, 345 

And so I wish your Majesty good night. 

Alp. Goodnight. Sweet Venus prosper thy attempt I 

Alex, Sweet Venus and grim Ate I implore, 
Stand both of you to me auspicious. Exit Alexander' 

Alp, It had been pity of his father's hie, 350 

Whose death hath made him such a perfect villain. 
What murder, wrack, and causeless enmity 
'Twixt dearest friends, that are my strongest foes. 
Will foUow suddenly upon this rape 

I hope to live to see and lang^ thereat. 355 

And yet this piece of practice is not all ; 
The King of Bohem, though he little feel it. 
Because in twenty hours it wiU not work. 
Hath from my knife's point sucked his deadly bane. 
Whereof I will be least of all suspected, 360 

For I will feign myself as sick as he. 
And blind mine enemies' tye^ with deadly groans. 
Upon the Palsgrave and mine Emperess . 
Heavy suspect shall light to bruise their bones ; 
Though Saxon would not sujBEer him to taste 365 

The deadly potion provided for him, 
He cannot save him from the sword of justice, 
When all the world shall think that like a villain 
He hath poison'd two great Emperors with one draught. 
That deed is done, and by this time I hope 370 

The other is a-doing ; Alexander, 
I doubt it not, will do it thoroughly. 
While these things are a-brewing I'll not sleep. 
But suddenly break ope the dhamber-doors 
And rush upon my Empress and the I^Jsgrave. 375 

Holla 1 Where's the captain of the guard ? 

EnUr Captain and Soldiers 

Cap, What would your Majesty ? 

Alp. Take six tra;yants well arm'd and follow« 

They break with violence into the chamber, and 
Alphoasus trails the Empress by the. hair 

Enter Alphonsus, Empress, Soldiers, etc. 

Alp. Come forth, thou damned witch, adulterous whore ! 
Foul scandal to thy name, thy sex, thy blood I 380 


Emp, O Emperor, gentle husband, pity me I 

Alp, Canst 1±ioa deny thou wert confederate 
With my arch-enemies that sought my blood ? 
And like a strumpet, through thy chamber-window. 
Hast with thine own hands help'd to let them down, 385 

With an intent that they should gather arms. 
Besiege my court, and take away my life ? 

Emp. Ah, my Alphonsus I 

Alp, Thy Alphonsus, whore ! 

Emp, O pierce my heart, trail me not by my hair ; 
What I have done, I did it for the best. 390 

Alp, So for the best advantage of thy lust 
Hast thou in secret, Q3rtemne8tra-like, 
Hid thy ^gisthus, thy adulterous love. 

Emp. Heav'n be the record 'twixt my lord and me. 
How pure and sacred I do hold thy bed. 395 

Alp, Art thou so impudent to belie the deed ? 
Is not the Palsgrave hidden in thy chamber ? 

Emp, That I have hid the P^grave I confess. 
But to no ill intent, your conscience knows. 

APp, Thy treasons, murdeis, incests, sorceries, 400 

Are all committed to a good intent ; 
Thou know'st he was my deadly enemy. 

Emp, By this device I hop'd to make 3^u Mends. 

Alp, Then bring him forth, we'U reconcile ourselves. 

Emp, Should I betray so great a prince's life ? 405 

Alp, Thou hold'st his life far dearer than thy lord's. 
This very night hast thou betray'd my blood. 
But thus, and thus, will I revenge myself. 

ITrailing her by the hair\ 
And but thou speedily deliver him, 

I'll trail thee through the kennels of the street, 410 

And cut the nose from thy bewitching face. 
And into England send thee like a strumpet. 

Emp, Pull every hair from ofi my head. 
Drag me at horses' tails, cut oQ my nose. 
My princely tongue shall not betray a prince. 415 

Alp, That will I try {Sinkes hef\. 

Emp. O Heav'n, revenge my shame ! 

Enter Palsgrave 
Pal. Is Caesar now become a torturer, , . • :,i 


A hangman of his wife, tum'd murderer ? 
Here is the Palatine, what woiddst thou more ? 

Alp, Upon him, soldiers, strike him to the ground ! 420 
I Emp. Ah, soldiers, spare the princely Palatine ! 

Alp. Down with the damn'd adulterous murderer 1 
Kill him, I say ; his blood be on my head. 

They kUl the Palatine 
Run to the tow'r and ring the larum bell, 
That fore the world I may excuse m3rself, 425 

And tell the reason of this bloody deed. 

Enter Edward in his nighl-goxan and shirt 

Ed, How now ? What means this sudden, strange alarm ? 
What wretched dame is this with blubber'd cheeks, 
And rent, dishevelled hair ? 

Emp, O my dear nephew^ 

Fly, fly the shambles, for thy turn is next. 430 

Ed, What, my imperial aunt ? Then break my heart I 

Alp, Brave I^rince« be still ; as I am nobly bom. 
There is no ill intended to thy person. 

Enter Mentz, Trier, Brandenburg, Bohemia 

Men, Where is my page ? Bring me my two-hand 
sword I 

Tri* What is the matter ? Is the Court a-flre ? 435 

Bran, Who's that ? The Emperor with his weapon 
drawn ? 

Boh. Though deadly sick, yet am I forc'd to rise. 
To know the reason of this hurly-burly. 

Alp. Princes be silent ; I will tell the cause, 
Though suddenly a griping at my heart 440 

Forbids my tongue his wonted course of speech. 
See you this harlot traitress to my hfe. 
See you this murderer, stain to mine honour ? 
These twain I found together in my bed, 
Shamefully committing lewd adultery, 445 

And heinously conspiring all your deaths, 
I mean your deaths that are not dead already ; 
As for the King of Bohem and myself. 
We are not of this world, we have our transports 
Giv'n in the bowl by this adulterous Prince ; .450 

And lest the poison work too strong with me. 
Before that I have wam'd you of your harms. 


I will be brief in the relation. 

That he hath stain'd my bed, these eyes have Seen ; 

That he hath murder'd two imperial kings, 455 

Our Speedy deaths will be too sudden proof ; 

That he and she have bought and sold your lives 

To Saxon, Collen, and the English Prince, 

Their ensigns, spread before the walls to-morrow, 

Will all too suddenly bid you defiance. 460 

Now tell me, Princes, have I not just cause 

To slay the murderer of so many souls ? 

And have not aQ cause to applaud the deed ? 

More would I utter, but the poison's force 

Forbids my speech ; you can conceive the rest. 465 

Boh. Your Majesty, reach me your dying hand 
With thousand thanks for this so just revenge ! 
O, how the poison's force begins to work 1 

Men. The world- may pity and applaud the deed. 

Bran, I>id never age bring forth such heinous acts. 470 

Ed, My senses are Confounded and amaz'd. 

Emp, The God of Heav'n knows my linguiltiness. 

Enter Messenger 

Mes, Arm, arm, my lords, we have descried afar 
An army of ten thousand men-at-arms. 

Alp. Some run unto the walls, some draw up the sluice, 475 
Some 'Speedily let the portcullis down. 

Men. Now may we see the Emperor's words are true ; 
To prison with the wicked murderous whore. Exeunt 



Before the Walls] 
Enter Saxon and Richard with Soldiers 

Sax. My Lord of Cornwall, let us march before 
To speedy rescue of our dearest friends ; 
The rearward with the 'armed legions. 
Committed to the Prince of CoUen's charge, 
Cannot so lightly pass the mountain tops. 5 

Rich, Lef s summon suddenly unto a parley ; 
I do not doubt but et^ we need their helps, 
Collen with all his forces wiU be here. 


£11^ Collen with Drums and an Army 

Your Holiness hath made good baste to-day. 

And like a beaten soldier lead yonr troops. 10 

Col. In time of peace I am an Arcbbisbop, 
And, like a chnrcbman, can both sing and say ; 
But when the innocent do snffer wrong, 
I cast my rochet off upon the altar, 
And, like a prince, betake myself to arms. 15 

Enter above Mentz, Trier, and Brandenburg 

Men. Great Prince of Saxony, what mean these arma ? 
Richard of Cornwall, what may this intend ? 
Brother of CoUen, no more churchman now ? 
Instead of mitre and a crozier stafi 

Have 3rou beta'en you to your helm and targe ? 20 

Were you so merry yesterday as friends, 
Qoaking your treason in your clown's attire ? 

Sax. Mentz, we return the traitor in thy face. 
To save oar lives, and to release our friends 
Out of the Spaniard's deadly trapping snares, . 25 

Without intent of ill, this power is rais'd, 
Therefore, grave Prince, Marquess of Brandenburg, 
My loving cousin, as indifferent judge. 
To you, an aged peace-maker, we speak ; 
Deliver with sale-conduct in our tents 30 

Prince Edward and his bride, the Palatine, 
With every one of high or low degree 
That are suspicions of tiie King of Spain, 
So shall you see, that in the self-same hour 
We marched to the walls with colours spread, 35 

We will cashier our troops, and part good friends. 

Bran. Alas, my lord, crave you the Palatine ? 

Rich. If craving will not serve, we will commaaid. 

Bran. Ah me, since your departure, good my lords. 
Strange accidents of blood and death are happened* ' 40 

Sax. My mind misgave a massacre this night. 

Rich. How does Prince Edward then ? 

Sax. How does my daughter ? 

Col. How goes it with the Palsgrave of. the Rhein ? 

Bran. Prince Edward and his bride do live in health. 
And shall be brought unto you when you please. 4$ 

Sax, Let them be presently dellver'd. 

Col. Lives not the Palsgrave too ? 


Men, In heaven or hell 

He lives, and reaps the merit of his deeds. 

CoL What damned hand hath butchered the Prince ? 

Sax. O that demand is needless ; who but he 50 

That seeks to be the butcher of us all ? 
But vengeance and revenge shall light on him. 

Bran, Be patient, noble Princes, hear the rest. 
The two great Kings of Bohem and Castile — 
God comfort them — ^lie now at point of death, 55 

Both poison'd by the Palsgrave j^esterday. 

Rich, How is that possible ? So must my sister. 
The Palatine himself, and Alexander, 
Who drunk out of the bowl, be poisoned too. 

Men. Nor is that heinous deed alone the cause, 60 

Though cause enough to ruin monarchies ; 
He hath defil'd with lust th' imperial bed. 
And by the Emperor in the fact was slain. 

Col, O worthy, guiltless Prince ! O, had he fled I 

Rich, But say, where is the Empress, where's my sister ? 65 

Men, Not burnt to ashes yet, but shall be shortly. 

Rich, I hope her Majesty will live to see 
A hundred thousand flattering turn-coat slaves. 
Such as your Holiness, die a shameful death. 

Bran, She is in prison, and attends her trial. 70 

Sax, O stiange, heart-breaking, mischievous intents I 
Give me my children, if you love yom: lives ! 
No safety is in this enchanted fort. 
O see, in happy hour, there comes my daughter 
And loving son, scap'd from the massacre. 75 

Enter [below] Edward and Hedewick 

Ed, My body lives, although my heart be slain. 
O Princes, this hath been the dismall'st night 
That ever eye of sorrow did behold ! ' : 

Here lay the Palsgrave, welt'ring in his blood, 
D3dng Alphonsus standing over him ; 80 

Upon the other hand the King of Bohem, 
Still looking when his poison'd bulk would break ; 
But that which pierc'd my soul with nature's touch» 
Was my tormented aunt, with blubber'd cheeks. 
Torn, bloody garments, and dishevell'd hair, 85 

Waiting for death — deservedly or no. 


That knows the Searcher of all human thoughts. 
For these devices are beyond my reach. 

Sax. Sag dochf Hebe tochter^ wo worst du dieselbe nachi f 

Hed. A Is wo, wo soUV ich sein? Ich war im bette. 90 

Sax. Warst du aUein, so warsi du gar verschrochen, 

Hed. Ich hob nichi anders gemeint, denn dass ich wollf allein 
geschlafen haben, aber um mittemachi kam mein bridegroom 
und schlafet bei mir, bis wir mit dem getUmmel erwacht waren. 

Ed. What says she ? Came her bridegroom to her at mid- 95 
ni^t ? 

Rich. Nephew, I see you were not overreach'd ; 
Although she sHpp'd out of your arms at first, 
You seiz'd her surely, ere you left the chase. 

Sax. But left your Grace your bride alone in bed ? 
Or did she nm together in the larum ? 100 

Ed. Alas, my lords, this is no time to jest 1 
I lay full sadly in my bed alone. 
Not able for my life to sleep a wink. 
Till that the larum-bell began to ring. 
And then I started from my weary couch. X05 

Sax. How now ? This rhymes not with my daughter's 
speech ; 
She says you found her bed, and lay with her. 

Ed. Not I, 3rour Highness did mistake her words. 

Col. Deny it not. Prince Edward ; 'tis an honour. 

Ed. My lords, I know no reason to deny it ; no 

T' have found her bed, I would have given a million. 

Sax. Hedewick, der Fikrst sagt, er hat nicht bei dir geschlafen. 

Hed. Es gefdllt ihm also zu sagen, aber ich hob es wohl gefMlet* 

Rich. She says, you are disposed to jest with her. 
But yesternight she felt it in good earnest. X15 

Ed. Uncle, these jests are too unsavoury. 
Ill-suited to these times, and please me not. 
Hab ich bei you geschlapen yesternight P 

Hed. Ei, lief, warum sollt ihr's fragen ? 

Sax. Edward, I tell thee, 'tis no jesting matter, 120 

Say plainly, wast thou by her, ay or no ? 

Ed. As I am Prince, true heir to England's crown, 
I never touch'd her body in a bed. 

Hed. Das hastu gethan, oder hole mich der dikuel. 

Rich. Nephew, take heed, you hear the Princess' words. 125 

Ed. It is not she, nor you, nor all the world. 
Shall make me say I did another's deed. 


Sax* Another's deed ? What, think'st thou her a whore ? 

Saxon strikes Edward 

Ed. She may be whore» and thou a villain too ; 
Struck me the Emperor, I will strike again. 130 

Col. Content you. Princes ; bufitet not like bo3ns. 

Rich. Hold you the one, and I will hold the other. 

Hed. OHerr Goti, help, help / Oich armes kind I 

Sax. Soldiers, lay hands upon the Prince of Wales, 
Convey him speedily into a prison, 135 

And load his legs with grievous bolts of iron ; 
Some bring: the whore my daughter from my sight. 
And thou, smooth Engli^man, to thee I speak, 

\Jo Richi(rd] 
My hate extends to all ihy nation. 

Pack thee out of my sight, and that with speed* 140 

Your English practices have all too long 
Muffled our German e3res — pack, pack, I say I 

Rich. Although your Grace have reason for your rage. 
Yet be not like a madman to. your friends. 

Sax. My friends ? I scorn the friendship of such mates 145 
That seek my daughter's spoil, and my dishonour ; 
But I will teach the boy another lesson. 
His head shall pay the ransom of his fault. 

Rich. His head ? 

Sax. And thy head too 1 O, how my heart doth swell ! 150 
Was there no : other prince to mock but me ? 
First woo, thisn marry her, Hien lie with her. 
And; having had the pleasure of her bed. 
Call her a whore in open audience ! 

None but. a Villain and a slave would do it. 155 

My lords of Mentz, of Trier, and Brandenburg, 
Make ope the gates, receive me as a friend, 
I'll be a scourge unto the English nation. 

Men. Your Grace shall be the welcom'st guest ahve. 

Col. None but a madman would do such a deed. 160 

Sax. Then, Collen, count me mad, f ot I will do it ; 
I'll set my life and land upon the hazard. 
But I will thoroughly sound this deceit. 
What, will your Grace leave me or follow me ? 

Col. No, Saxon, know I will not follow thee, 165 

Aivl. leave Prince Richard in so great extremes. 

Sax. Then I defy you both, and so farewelL 

Rich. Yet, Saxon, hear me speak before thou go : 


Look to the Prince's lile as to thine own ; 

Each perish'd hair that falleth from his head 170 

By thy default shall cost a Saxon city ; 

Henry of England will not lose his heir ; 

And so farewell and think upon my words. 

Sax, Away, I do disdain to answer thee ! 
Pack thee with shame again into thy country; 175 

I'll have a cock-boat at my proper charge. 
And send th' imperial crown which thou hast won 
To England by Prince Edward after thee. 

Exettnt [Saxon and the others] 

Manent Rkshard €md Collen 

CoL Answer liim not. Prince Richard ; he is mad ; 
Choler and grief have robb'd him of his senses. 180 

Like accident to. this was never heard. 

Rich. Break, heart, and die ; fly hence, my troubled spirit ; 
I am not able for to unde^bear 
The weight of sorrow which doth bruise my soul. 
P Edward, O swe^t Edward, O my life I 185 

6 noble Collen, last of all my hopes. 
The only friend in my extcemities, ^ 

If thou dost love me^as I k;nQw thou dost. 
Unsheathe thy sword and rid me of this sorrow. 

Col, Away with abject thoughts ! Fie, princely Richard ; 19Q 
Rouse up th3^self, and call thy senses home ; 
Shake off this base pusillanimity, 
And cast ^.bout to remedy these wrongs. 

Rich. Alas, I see no inean^ pf remedy! 

Col, Then hearken to my counsel and advice. 195 

We will intrench ourselves not far from hence. 
With those smajl pow'rs we have, and send for more. 
If they do make assault, we will defend ; 
If violence be offer'd to the Prince, 

We'U rescue him with venture of our lives ; 200 

Let us with patience attend advantage, 
Time may reveal the author, of these treasons. 
For why, undoubtedly the sweet young Princess, 
Foully beguil'd by night with cunning :show, . . 

Hath to some villain lost her maidenhead. ; 205 

Ric. O, that I knew the foul incestuous wretch 1 ^* 

Thus would I tear him with my teeth and ludJa. • hA 

Had ..Saxon sense, he would conceive so much, 

C.D.W. G G 


And not revenge on guiltless Edward's Hie. 

* CoL Persuade yourself, he will be twice advis'd, 210 

Before he offer wrong unto the Prince. 

Rich. In that good hope I will have patiance. 
Come» gentle Prince, whose pity to a stranger 
Is rare and admirable, not to be spoken ; 
England cannot requite this gentleness. 215 

Col. Tush, talk not of requital, let us go 
To fortify ourselves witiiin our trench. Exnmt 


A Roam in ike Couv(\ 

Enter Alphonsus, carried in the Couch ; Saxo^, Mentz, Trier, 

Brandenburg, Alexander 

Alp. O most excessive pain, O raging fire ! 
Is burning Cancer, or the Scorpion, 
Descended from the heavenly zodiac. 
To parch mine entraUs with a quenchless flame ? 
Drink, drink, I say, give drink, or I shaU diel 5 

Fill a thousand bowls of wine ! Water, I say. 
Water from forth the cold Tartarian hills t 
I feel th' ascending flame lick up my blood ; 
Mine entrails shrink together like a scroll 
Of burning parchment, and my marrow fries. 10 

Bring hugy cakes of ice and flakes of snow. 
That I may drink of them being dissolved. 

Sax. We do beseech your Blajesty, have patience. 

Alp. Had I but drunk an ordinary poison. 
The sight of thee, great Duke of Saxony, 15 

My friend in death, in life my greatest foe. 
Might both allay the venom and the torment; 
But that adulterous Palsgrave and my wife. 
Upon whose life and soul I vengeance cry. 
Gave me a mineral not to be digested, . 20 

Which burning, eats, and eating, bums my heart. 
My Lord of Trier, run to the King of Bohem, 
Commend me to him, ask' him how he fares; 
None but myself can rightly pity him, 

For none but we have sympathy of pains. 25 

Tell him when he is dead, my time's not long. 
And when I die, bid him prepare to follow. 

Exit Trier 


Now, now it works airesh ; are you my friends ? 

Then throw me on the cold, swift-running Rhein 

And let me bathe there for an hour or two, 30 

I cannot bear, this pain. 

Men, O, would th' unpartial Fates afflict on me 
These deadly pains, and ease my Emperor, 
How willing would I bear them for his sake. 

Alp, O Mentz, I would not wish unto a dog 35 

The least of thousand torments that afflict me. 
Much less unto 3rour princely Holiness.- 
See, see, my Lord of Mentz, he points at you. 

Men, It is your fantasy, and nothing else ; 
But were Death here, I would dispute with him, 40 

And tell him to his teeth he doth injustice. 
To take your Majesty in the prime of youth ; 
Such wither'd, rotten branches as myself 
Should first be lopp'd, had he not partial hands ; 
And here I do pro^t upon my knee 45 

I would as willingly now leave my life. 
To save my King and Emperor alive. 
As erst my mother brought me to the world. 

Bran, My Lord of Mentz, this flattery is too gross ; 
A prince of your experience and calling 50 

Should not so fondly call the heavens to witness. 

Men. Think you, my lord, I would not hold my word ? 

Bran, You know, my lord, Death is a bitter guest. 

Men, To ease his pain and save my Emperor, 
I sweetly would embrace that bitterness. 55 

Alex, [aside'\ If I were Death, I knew what I would do. 

Men, But see, his Majesty is fall'n asleep ; 
Ah me ! I fear it is a dying slumber. 

Alp, \waking\. My Lord of Saxony, do you hear this jest? 

Scus. What shoiQd I hear, my lord ? 60 

Alp, Do you not hear. 

How loudly Death proclaims it in mine ears. 
Swearing by trophies, tombs, and dead men's graves. 
If I have any friend so dear to me 
That to excuse my life wiU lose his own, 
I shall be presen^y restored to health. 65 

Enter Trier 

Men, I would he durst make good his promises. 
Alp. My Lord of Trier, how fares my fellow Emperor ? 



Trt. His Majesty is eas'd of all his pains. 

Alp, O happy news ! Now have I hope of health. 

Men. My joyiul heart doth spring within my body 70 

iTo hear these words ; 
Comfort your Majesty, I wiU excuse you. 
Or, at the least, will bear you company. 

Alp, yty hope is vain ,■ now, now my heart will break ! 
My Lord of Trier, you did but flatter me ; 75 

Tell me the truth, how fares his Majesty ? 

Tfi. I told your Highness, eas'd of all his pain. 

Alp, I understand thee now ; he's eas'd by death. 
And now I feel an alteration. 

Farewell, sweet lords ; farewell, my Lord of Mentz, 80 

The truest friend that ever earth did bear. 
Live long in happiness to revenge my death 
Upon my wife and all the English brood. 
My Lord of Saxony, your Grace hath cause — 

Men, I dare thee. Death, to take away my life. 85 

Some charitable hand that loves his Prince 
And hath the heart. 
Draw forth his sword and rid me of my life. 

A Ux, \dfaw%n^'\ I love my Prince, and have the heart to 
do it. 

Men. O, stay awhile I 

Al$x, Nay, now .it is too late. 90 

[Stabs him\ 

Bran. Villain, what hast thou done ? Th'ast slain a prince I 

Alex, I did no more than he entreated me. 
' Alp. [rising as if restored to life] How now, what make 

I in my couch so late ? 
Princes, why stand you so gazing about me ? 
Or who is that lies slain before my face ? 95 

O, I have wrong, my soul was half in heaven ; 
His Holiness did know the jo}^ above. 
And therefore is ascended in my stead. 
Come, Princes, let us bear the body hence ; 
I'll spend a million to embalm the same. loo 

Let all the bells within the Empire ring. 
Let mass be said in every church and chapel. 
And that I may perform my latest vow, 
I will procure so much by gold or friends. 
That my sweet Mentz shall be canonized 105 

And number'd in the bead-roll of the saints. 


I hope the Pope will not deny it me ; 

I'll build a church in honour of thy name 

Within the ancient, famous city Mentz, 

Fairer than any one in Germany. . no 

There shalt thou be interred with kingly pomp. 

Over thy tomb shall hang a sacred lamp, 

Which tOl the day of doom shall ever bum ; 

Yea, after-ages shall speak of thy renown, . . 

And go a-pilgrimage to thy sacred tomb. -HIS 

Grief stops my voice ; who loves his Emperor, 

Lay to his helping hand and bear him hence. 

Sweet father and redeemer of my life. 

Exeunt [bearing off MenU] 

Manet Alexander 

Alex. Now is my lord sole Emperor of Rome, 

And three conspirators of my father's death . 120 

Are cunningly sent unto heaven or hell ; 

Like subtlety to this was never seen. 

Alas, poor Mentz ! I, pitying thy prayers, 

Could do no less than lend a helping hand ; 

Thou wert a famous flatterer in thy life, 125 

And now hast reap'd the fruits thereof in death. 

But thou shalt be rewarded, like a saint, 

V^th masses, bells, dirges, and burning lamps ; 

'Tis good, I envy not thy happiness : 

But, ah 1 the sweet remembrance of that night, 130 

That night, I mean, of sweetness and of stealth. 

When, for a Prince, a Princess did embrace me. 

Paying the first fruits of her marriage-bed, 

MaJces me forget all other accidents. 

O Saxon, I would willingly forgive 135 

The deadly trespass of my father's death. 

So I might have thy daughter to my wife ; 

And, to be plain, I have best right unto her. 

And love her best and have deserv'd her best. 

But thou art fond to think on such a match, 140 

Thou must imagine nothing but revenge ; 

And if my computation fail me not, 

£re long I shall be thoroughly reveng'd. E:^i 



Tha Courtyard of ike Palace] 
Enter the Duke of Saxon, and Hedewick with the Child 

Sax. Come forth, thou perfect map of misery. 
Desolate daughter and distressed mother, 
In whom the father and the son are curs'd. 
Thus once again we will assay the Prince. 
'T may be the sight of his own flesh and Uood 5 

Will now at last pierce his obdurate heart. 
Jailor, how fares it with thy prisoner ? 
Let him appear upon the battlements. 

Hed, O mein dear voter ^ ich habe in dis lang, lang [viereig] 
weeken^ welche mich dunket sein vierzig jaht gewesen^ ein 10 
latt Englisch gelemet, und ich hope, he will me verstahn, and 
show me a liUte pity. 

Enter Edward on the walls, and Jailor 

Sax. Good morrow to your Grace, Edward of Wales, 
Son and immediate heir to Henry the Third, 
King of England and Lord of Ireland, 15 

Thy father's comfort and the people's hope. 
'Tis not in mockage, nor at unawares, 
That I am ceremonious to repeat 
Thy high descent, join'd with thy kin^y might. 
But therewithal to intimate unto thee 20 

What God expecteth from the higher powers. 
Justice and mercy, truth, sobriety. 
Relenting hearts, hands innocent of blood. 
Princes are God's chief substitutes on earth. 
And should be lamps unto the conmion sort. 25 

BVit, 3rou wiU say, I am become a preacher ; 
No, Prince, I am an humble suppliant. 
And to prepare thine ears make this exordium. 
To pierce thine eyes and heart, behold this spectacle : 
Three generations of the Saxon blood, [Kneeling] 50 

Descended lineaUy from forth my loins, 
Kneeling and crying to thy mightiness. 
First look on me, and think what I have been, — 
For now I think myself of no account — 
Next Caesar greatest man in Germany, 35 

Nearly allied and ever friend to England. 


Bat woman's sighs move more in manly hearts ; 

0» see the hands she elevates to heaven. 

Behold ihose eyes that whilom were thy joys, 

Uttering dumb eloquence in crystal tears. 40 

If these exclaims and sights be ordinary. 

Then look .with pity on thy other sell : 

This is thy flesh and blood, bone of thy bone, 

A goodly boy, the image of his sire. 

Tum'st thou away ? O, were thy father here, 45 

He would, as I do, take him in his arms, 

And sweetly kiss bis grandchild in the face. 

O Edward, too young in experience, 

That canst not look into the grievous wrack 

Ensuing this thy obstinate denial ; 50 

O, Edward, too young in experience. 

That canst not see into the future good 

Ensuing thy most just acknowledgment ; 

Hear me, thy truest friend, I will repeat ihem : 

For good thou hast an heir indubitate, 55 

Whose eyes already sparkle majesty, 

Bom in true wedlock of a princely mother. 

And all the German princes to thy friends ; 

Where, on the contrary, thine eyes shall see 

The speedy tragedy of thee and thine. 60 

Like Athamas first will I seize upon 

Thy young unchristen'd and despised son 

And with his guiltless brains bepaint the stones ; 

Then, like Virginius, will I kill my child. 

Unto thine eyes a pleasing spectacle ; 65 

Yet shall it be a momentary pleasure ; 

Henry of England shall mourn with me, 

Fot thou thyself, Edward, shalt make the third. 

And be an actor in this blqody scene 

Hed. Ach nmn sAsae Edua/rt^ nrnn her skin, mmn scherxkint 70 
mein hernges, Hniges hersy mein alUrlievest husband, I preedee, 
nrnn lief, see me freindlich an ; good s*eetheart, tell de trut : 
and at least to me and dein dUerlievest child show pity I denn ich 
bin dein, und du bist mein, du hast me geven ein kindelein ; 
O Eduart, sAsse Eduart, erbarmet sein/ 75 

Ed. O Hedewicky peace 1 Thy speeches pierce my soul. 

Hed. Hedewich f do yowr excellency hight me Hedewieh f 
Lieve Eduart, you weit ich bin your dUetlieveste wife. 

Ed. The priest» I must confess, made thee my wife ; 


Curs'd be the damned villainous adulterer, 80 

That with so foul a blot divoro'd our love. 

Hed. O tnein alUrlievestar, highbom Furst und Herr, dink, 
dai unser Herr GoU sits in Himmelstron$, Mtd sees dot heart, 
und will my cause wohl rdchen. 

Sax. Edward, hold me not up v^ith. long delaySg B5 

But quickly say, wilt thou confess the truth ? 

Ed. As true as I am bom of kingly lineage, 
And am the best Flantagenet next my falser, 
I never carnally did touch her body.' 

Sax. Edward, this answer had we long ago; 90 

See'st thou this brat ? [Seuting the ^ild.] Speak quickly, 
or he dies. 

Ed. His death will be more piercing to thine eyes 
Than unto mine ; he is not of my kin. 

Hed. O Father, O mein Vater, spare mein Kindt O 
Eduart, O Prince Eduart, speah now Oder nimntermehr / de 95 
Kind ist mein, it soil nicht sterben / 

Sax. Have I dishonoured myself so much, 
To bow my knee to thee, which never bow'd 
But to my God, and ain I thus rewarded ? 
Is he not thine ? Speak, murderous-minded Prince I 100 

Ed. O Saxon, Saxon, mitigate thy rage. 
First thy exceeding great humility. 
When to thy captive prisoner thou didst kneel. 
Had almost made my lying tongue confess 
The deed, which I protest I never did ; T05 

But thy not causeless, furious, madding humotir, 
Together with thy daughter's piteous cries^ 
Whom as my life and soul I dbarly love. 
Had thoroughly almost peisuaded me 

To save her honour and bdie m3^self ; no 

And were I not a prince of so 2:dgfa blood. 
And bastards have no sceptre-bearing hands, 
I would in silence smother up this Mot, 
And, in compassion of thy daughter's wrong. 
Be counted father to another's child ; zi5 

For why, my soul knows her unguxltiness. 

Sax. Smooth words in bitter sense ; is [this] thine answer? 

Hed. Ei Vater, gehe mir mein Kind, de Kind ist mein. 

Sax. Gas weiss ich wohl ; er sagt, e$ ist nicht sein, therefore 
it dies* ^ I90 

He dashes out th4 ckiUPi brdins 


Hed. O Gott in seinem Trone / O metii Kind, mein Kind/ 

Sax, There, murderer, take his head and breathless 
limbs I 
There's flesh enough, bury it in thy bowels. 
Eat that, or die for hunger ; I protest 

Thou gefst no other food till that be spent. 125 

And now to thee, lewd whore, dishonour'd strumpet. 
Thy turn is next ; therefore prepare to die. 

Ed» O mighty Duke of Saxon, spare thy child. 

Sax. She is thy wife . Edward, and thou shouldst spare her ; 
One gracious word of thine will save her life. 130 

Ed. I do confess, Saxon, she is mine own. 
As I have married her I will live with her, 
Comfoft thyself, sweet Hedewick and sweet wife. 

Hed. Ach, ach und wehe, warum sagt your excellence nicht 
so before, now tst too late, unser arme Kind is kilt. 135 

Ed. Though thou be mine, and I do pity thee, 
I would not nurse a bastard for a son. 

Hed. O Eduart, now ich mark your meaning ;ich should be 
your whore ; mein Vater, ich begehr upon meine knee, lass 
mich lieb&r sterben. Ade, false Eduart, false Prince, ich 140 
begehr's nicht. 

Sax. Unprincely thoughts do hammer in thy head ; 
Is't not enough that thou hast sham'd her once. 
And seen the bastard torn before thy face ; 
But thou wouldst get more brats for butchery ? 145 

No, Hedewick, thou shalt not live the day. 

Hed, O Herr Gott, nim meine Seele in deine Hdnde. 

Sax. It is thy hand that gives this deadly stroke. 

[Stabs her] 

Hed, O Herr Sabaot, doss mein unschuld an tag kommen 
mdcht* / 1 50 

Ed. Her blood be on that wretched villain's head 
That is the cause of all this misery. 

Sax. Now, murderous-minded f^nce, hast thou beheld 
Upon my child and child's child thy desire ; 
Swear to thyself, that here I firmly swear, 155 

That thou shalt surely follow her to-morrow. 
In company of thy adulterous aunt. 
Jailor, convey him to his dungeon. 
If he be hungry, I have thrown him meat. 
If thirsty, let him suck the newly bom limbs. 160 

Ed, O heavens and heavenly powers, if yon be just. 


Reward the autiior of this wickedness. 

Exit Edward and Jailor 

Enter Alexander 

AUx. To arms, great Duke of Saxony, to arms I 
My Lord of Collen and the Earl of Cornwall, 
In rescue of Prince Edward and the Empress, 165 

Have levied fresh supplies, and presently 
Will bid you battle in the open field. 

Sax, They never could have come in fitter time ; 
Thirst they for blood ? And they shall quench their thirst. 

AUx, O piteous spectacle ! Poor Princess Hedewick 1 170 

Sax. Stand not to pity, lend a helping hand. 

Alex. What slave hath murdered this guiltless child ? 

Sax, What, dar'st thou call me slave unto my face ? 
I tell thee, villain, I have done this deed, 
And seeing the father and the grandsire's heart 175 

Can give consent and execute their own. 
Wherefore should such a rascal as thyself 
Presume to pity them, whom we have slain ? 

Alex. Pardon me ; if it be presumption 
To pity them, I will presume no more. 180 

Sax. Then help, I long to be amidst my foes. 

Exeunt Ibearing off the dead bodies] 



A Field without the WaUs\ 

Alarum and retreat. Enter Richard and Collen, with drums and 


Rich. What means your Excellence to sound retreat ? 
This is the day of doom unto our friends ; 
Before sun set my sister and my nephew, 
Unless we rescue them, must lose their lives ; 
The cause admits no dalliance nor delay ; 5 

He that so tyrant-Uke hath slain his own, 
WiIL take no pity on a stranger's blood. 

Col. At my entreaty, ere we strike the battle. 
Let* s summon out our enemies to a parle : 
Words spoken in time have virtue, power, and price, zo 

And mildness may prevail and take efieot. 
When dint of sword perhaps will aggravate* 


Rich. Then sound a parley to fulfil your mind. 
Although I know no good can follow it. A pofley 

Enter Alphonsus, Empress, Saxon, Edward prisoner^ Trier, 
Brandenburg, Alexander, and Soldiers 

Alp, Why, how now. Emperor that should have been, 15 
Are these the English general's bravadoes ? 
Make you assault so hotly at the first. 
And in the self-same moment sound retreat ? 
To let you know that neither war nor words 
Have^power for to divert their fatal doom, 20 

Thus are we both resolv'd : if we triumph. 
And by the right and justice of our cause 
Obtain the victory, as I doubt it not. 
Then both of you shall bear them company, 
And ere sun set we will perform our oaths, 25 

With just effusion of their guilty bloods ; 
If you be conquerors, and we overcome, 
Carry not that conceit to rescue them, 
M3rself will be the executioner. 

And with these poniards frustrate all your hopes, 30 

Making 3rou triumph in a bloody field. 

Sax. To put you out of doubt that we intend it. 
Please it 3rour Majesty to take your seat. 
And make a demonstration of 3rour meaning. 

[Alphonsus takes his seaf\ 

Alp. First on my right hand bind the English whore, 35 

That venomous serpent, nurs'd within my breast. 
To suck the vital blood out of my veins ; 
My Empress must have some pre-eminence, 
Especially at such a bloody banquet ; 

Her state and love to me deserves no less. 40 

[Soldiers bind the Empress to a chair} 

Sax. That to Prince Edward I may show my love. 
And do the latest honour to his state, 
These hands of mine that never chained any. 
Shall fasten him in fetters to the chair. 

[Saxon bifHls Edward] 
Now, Princes, are you ready for the battle ? 45 

Col. Now art thou right the picture of thyself. 
Seated in height of all thy tyranny ; 
But tell 08, what intends this spectacle ? 

Alp. To make the certainty of their deaths more plain. 


And cancel all your hopes to save their lives ; 50 

While Saxon leads the troops into the field. 

Thus win I vex their souls with sight of death. 

Loudly exclaiming in their half-dead ears. 

That if we win they shall have company, 

Videlicet the English Emperor, 55 

And you, my lord Archbishop of CoUen ; 

If we be vanquished then they must expect 

Speedy dispatch from these two daggers' points. 

Col. What canst thou, tyrant, then expect but deatii ? 

Alp. Tush, hear me out ; that hand which shed their 
blood 60 

Can do the like to rid me out of bonds. 

Rich. But that's a damned resolution. 

Alp. So must this desperate disease be cur'd. 

Rtch. O Saxon, I'll yield myself and all my power 
To save my nephew, though my sister die. 65 

Sax, Thy brother's kingdom shall not save his life. 

Ed. Uncle, you see these savage-minded men 
Will have no other ransom but my blood ; 
England hath heirs, though I be never king, 
And hearts and hands to scourge tiiis tyranny ; 70 

And so farewell f 

Emp. A thousand times farewell. 

Sweet brother Richard and brave Prince of CoUen 1 

Sax. What, Richard, hath this object pierc'd thy heart ? 
By this imagine how it went with me 
When yesterday I slew my children. 75 

Rich. O Saxon, I entreat thee on my knefes. 

Sax. Thou shalt obtain like mercy with thy kneeling 
As lately I obtain'd at Edward's hands. 

Ric. Pity the tears I pour before thy feet. 

Sax. Fity those tears ? Why, I shed bloody tears. 80 

Rich. I'll do the like to save Prince Edward's life. 

Sax. Then like a warrior spill it in the field ; 
My griefiul anger cannot be appeas'd 
By sacrifice of any but himself ; 

Thou hast dishonour'd me, and thou shalt die ! 85 

Therefore alarum, alarum to the fight 
That thousands more may bear thee company! 

Rich. Nephew and sister, now farewell for ever! 

Ed. Heaven and the right prevail, and let me die ! 
Uncle, farewell I <iO 


Emp, Brother, farewell* until we meet in heaven ! Exeunt 

Manent Alphonsus, Edward, Empress, Alexander 

Alp, Here's farewell, brother, nephew, uncle, aunt» 
As if in thousand years 3rou should not meet. 
Good nephew an4 good aunt, content yourselves. 
The sword of Saxon and these daggers' points, 95 

Before the evening-star doth show itself. 
Will take sufficient order for your meeting. 
But Alexander, my trusty Alexander, 
Run to the watch-tow 'r as I pointed thee. 
And by thy life I charge thee, look unto it, 100 

Thou be the first to bring me certain word 
If we be conquerors, or conquered. 

A lex. With careful speed I will perform this charge. Exit 

Alp, Now have I leisure yet to talk with you. 
Fair Isabel, the Palsgrave's paramour, 105 

Wherein was he a better man than I ? 
Or wherefore should thy love to him effect 
Such deadly hate unto thy Emperor ? 
Yet well fare wenches that can love good fellows 
And not mix murder with adultery. no 

Emp, Great Emperor, I dare not call you husband. 
Your conscience knows my heart's unguiltiness. 

Alp. Didst thou not poison, or consent to poison us ? 

Emp. Should any but your Highness tell me so, 
I should forget my patience at my death, 115 

And call him villain, liar, murderer. 

Alp. She that doth so miscall me at her end, 
Edward, I prithee, speak thy conscience, 
Think'st thou not that in her prosperity 
Sh'ath vex'd my soul with bitter words and deeds ? I30 

O Prince of England, I do count thee wise. 
That thou wilt not be cumber'd with a wife. 
When thou hadst stol'n her dainty rose-corance. 
And pluck'd the flow'r of her virginity. 

Ed. Tyrant of Spain, thou liest in thy throat 1 125 

Alp. Good words ! Thou seest thy life is in our hands. 

Ed. 1 see thou art become a common hangman. 
An office far more fitting to thy mind 
Than princely to the imperial dignity. 

Alp, I do not exercise on common persons ; 130 

Your Highness is a Prince, and she an Empress, 


I therefore count not of a dignity. {Noise of ba$(le within^ 

Hark, Edward, how they labour aU in vain, 

With loss of many a valiant soldier's life. 

To rescue them whom Heaven and we have doom'd ; 135 

Dost thou not tremble when thou think'st upon't ? 

Ed. Let guilty minds tremble at sight of death. 
My heart is of tiie nature of the palm. 
Not to be broken, till the highest bud 

Be bent and tied unto the lowest root. 140 

I rather wonder that thy tjrrant's heart 
Can give consent, that those liiy butcherous hands 
Should offer violence to thy flesh and blood. 
See, how her guiltless innocence doth plead 
In silent oratory of her chastest tears. 145 

A Ip, Those tears proceed from fury and curst heart ; 
I know the stomach of your English dames. 

Emp. No, Emperor, tiiese tears proceed from grief. 

Alp, Grief that thou canst not be reveng'd of us. 

Emp, Grief that your Highness is so ill advis'd 150 

To offer violence to my nephew Edward. 
Since then there must be sacrifice of blood. 
Let my heart-blood save both your bloods unspilt. 
For of his death thy heart must pay the guilt. 

Ed, No, aunt, I will not buy my life so dear; 155 

Therefore, Alphonso, if thou beest a man. 
Shed manly blood and let me end this strife. 

Alp. Here's straining court'sy at a bitter feast I 
Content thee, Empress, for thou art my wife. 
Thou shalt obtain thy boon and die the death, 160 

And, for it were unprincely to deny 
So slight request unto so great a lord, 
Edward shall bear thee company in death. A retreat 

But hark, the heat of battle hath an end. 
One side or other hath the victory ; 165 

Enter Alexander 

And see where Alexander sweating comes I 

Speak, man, what news ? Speak, shall I die or live ? 

Shall I stab sure, or else prolong their lives 

To grievous torments ? Speak, am I conqueror ? 

What, hath thy haste bereft thee of thy speech ? 170 

Hast thou not breath to speak one syllable ? 

O speak, thy dalliance kills me ; won or lost ? 


Alex. Lost I 

Alp. Ah me, my senses fail, my sight is gone I 

Amated, lets fall the daggers 

Alex. Will not your Grace dispatch the strumpet Queen ? 175 
Shall she then live, and we be doom'd to deatii ? 
Is your heart faint, or is your hand too weak ? 
Shall servile fear break your so sacred oaths ? 
Methinks an Emperor should hold his word. 
Give me the weapons, I will soon dispatch them, 180 

My father's yelling ghost cries for revenge ; 
His blood within my veins boils for revenge ; 
O, give me leave, Caesar, to take revenge 1 

Alp. Upon condition that thou wilt protest 
To take revenge upon the murtherers, 185 

Without respect of dignity or state, 
AfSict[mg] speedy, pitiless revenge, 
I will commit this dagger to thy trust. 
And give thee leave to execute thy will. 

Alex. What need I here reiterate the deeds 190 

Which deadly sorrow made me perpetrate ? 
How near did I entrap Prince Richard's life I 
How sure set I the knife to Mentz his heart I 
How cunningly was Palsgrave doom'd to death I 
How subtilely was Bohem poisoned I 195 

How slyly did I satisfy my lust. 
Commixing dulcet love with deadly hate. 
When Princess Hedewick lost her maidenhead. 
Sweetly embracing me for England's heir! 

Ed. O execrable deeds I 

Emp. O savage mind I 200 

Alex. Edward, I give thee leave to hear of this. 
But will forbid the blabbing of your tongue. 
Now, gracious lord and sacred Emperor, 
Your Highness knowing these and many more, 
Which fearless pregnancy hath wrought in me, 205 

You do me wrong to doubt, that I will dive 
Into their hearts, that have not spar'd their betters ; 
Be therefore sudden lest we die ourselves, 
I know the conqueror hastes to rescue them. 

Alp. Thy reasons are effectual, take this dagger; 210 

Yet pause awlnle. 

Emp. Sweet nephew, now farewell I 

Alp. They are most dear to me, whom thou must kin. 


Ed. Hark, aunt, he now begins to pity you. 

Alex. But they consented to my father's death. 

Alp, More than consented, they did execute. 215 

Emp. I will not make his Majesty a liar; 
I kill'd thy father, therefore let me die. 
But save the life of this unguilty Prince. 

Ed, I kill'd thy father, therefore let me die. 
But save the life of this unguilty Empress. 220 

Alp, Hark thou to me. and think their words as wind. 
I kill'd thy father, therefore let me die. 
And save the lives of these two guiltless Princes. 
Art thou amaz'd to hear what I have said ? 
There, take the weapon, now revenge at full 225 

Thy father's death and those jny dire deceits, 
That made thee murtherer of so many souls. 

Alex, O Emperor, how cunningly wouldst thou entrap 
My simple youl^ to credit fictions 1 

Thou kill my father ? No, no. Emperor, 230 

Caesar did love Lorenzo bH too dearly : 
Seeing thy forces now are vanquished. 
Frustrate thy hopes, thy Highness like to fall 
Into the cruel and revengeful, hands 

Of merciless, incensed enemies, 235 

Like Caius Cassius weary of thy life, 
Now wouldst thou make thy page an instrument 
By sudden stroke to rid thee of thy bonds. 

Alp, Hast thou forgotten, how that very iiight 
Thy father died I took the master-key« 240 

And with a lighted torch walk'd through the court ? 

Alex, I must remember that, for to my death 
I never shall forget the slightest deed. 
Which on that dismal night or day I did. 

Alp, Thou wast no sooner in thy restful bed, 245 

But I disturb'd thy father of his rest. 
And to be short, not that I hated him. 
But for he knew my deepest secrets. 
With cunning poison I did end his Ufe. 

Art thou his son ? Express it with a stab, 250 

And make account, if I had prospered. 
Thy date was out, thou wast already doom'd ; 
Thou knew'st too much of me to live with me. 

Alex. What wonders do I hear, great Emperor 1 
Not that I do steadfastly. believe 255 


That thou did'st murder my beloved father. 

But in mere pity of thy vanquished state 

I undertake this execution : 

Yet for I fear the sparkling majesty. 

Which issues from lliy most imperial eyes, 260 

May strike relenting passion to my heart, 

And, after wound received from fainting hand. 

Thou fall half-dead among thine enemies, 

I crave thy Highness leave to bind thee fixst. 

Alp. Then bind me quickly, use me as thou please. 265 

Emp. O villain, wilt thou kill thy sovereign ? 

Alex, Your Highness sees that I am forc'd unto it. 

[Binds Alphonsus to his chair] 

Alp. Fair Empress, I shame to ask thee pardon, 
Whom I have wrong'd so many thousand ways. 

Emp. Dread lord and husband, leave these desperate 
thoughts, 270 

Doubt not the Princes may be reconcil'd. 

Alex. T may be the Princes will be reconcil'd, 
But what is that to me ? All potentates on earth 
Can never reconcile my grieved soul. 

Thou slew'st my father, thou didst make this hand 275 

Mad with revenge to murther innocents ; 
Now hear how in the height of all thy pride 
The rightful gods have pour'd their justful wrath 
Upon thy tyrant's head, devil as thou art, 
And sav'd by miracles these Princes' lives. 280 

For know, thy side hath got the victory, 
Saxon triumphs over his dearest friends ; 
Richard and CoUen both are prisoners. 
And everything hath sorted to thy wish ; 
Only hath Heaven put it in my mind 285 

(For He alone directed then my thoughts. 
Although my meaning was most mischievous) 
To tell thee thou hadst lost, in certain hope 
That suddenly thou wouldst have slain them both ; 
For if the Princes came to talk about it, 290 

I greatly fear'd their lives might be prolong'd. 
Art thou not mad to think on this deceit ? 
I'll make thee madder with tormenting thee. 
I teU thee, arch-thief, villain, murtherer, 

Thy forces have obtain'd the victory, 295 

Victory leads thy foes in captive bands; 

C.D.W. H H 


This victory hath crown'd thee Emperor, 
Only myself have vanqoish'd victory 
And triumph in the victor's overthrow. 

Alp, O, Alexander, spare thy Prince's Hie I 300 

Alex, Even now thou didst entreat the contrary. 

Alp, Think what I am that b^ my lifo of thee. 

Alex, Think what he was whom thou hast doom'd to 
But lest the Princes do surprise us here. 
Before I have performed my strange revenge, 305 

I will be sadden in the execution. 

Alp, I will accept any condition. 

Alex, Then in the presence of the Emperess, 
The captive Prince of England, and mysc^. 
Forswear the joys of Heaven, the sight of God, 310 

Thy soul's salvation, and thy Saviour Christ, 
Danming thy soul to endless pains of hell: 
Do this, or die upon my rapier's point. 

Emp, Sweet lord and husband, spit in's face I 
Die like a man, and live not like a devil. 313 

Alex, What 1 'WAt thou save thy life, and danm thy soul ? 

Alp, O, hold thy hand, Alphonsus doth renounce— 

Ed, Aunt, stop your eaiB, hear not this blasphemy. 

Emp, Sweet husband, think that Christ did die for thee. 

Alp, Alphonsus doth renounce the joys of Heaven, 320 
The sight of angels and his Saviour's blood. 
And gives his soul unto the devil's power. 

Alex, Thus will I make delivery of the deed, 
Die and be damn'd 1 Now am I satisfied \ {KiUs him\ 

Ed, O damned miscreant, what hast thou done ? 325 

Alex, When I have leisure I will answer thee ; 
Meanwhile Til take my heels and save myself. 
If I be ever call'd in question, 
I hope your Majesties will save my life. 

You have so happily preserved yours ; 330 

Did I not think it, both of you should die. Exit Alexander 

Enter Saxon, Brandenburg, Trier ; Richard and CoUen as 

prisoners, and Soldiers 

Sax, Bring forth these daring champions to the block I 
Comfort yourselves, you shall have company* 
Great Emperor — ^Where is his Majesty ? 
What bloody spectacle do I behold ? 333 


Emp, Revenge, revenge, O Saxon, Biandenbuxg I 
My lord is aLain, Caesar is doomed to death. 

Ed. Princes, make haste, follow the mnrtherer I 

Siuf. Is Caesar slain ? 

Ed, Follow the murtherer ! 

Emp. Why stand yon gazing on another thus ? 340 

Follow the murtherer 1 

Seuc. What murtherer ? 

Ed. The villain Alexander hath slain his lord I 
Make after him with speed, so shall you hear 
Such villany as you have never heard. 

Bran. My Lord of Trier, we both with our light horse 345 
Will scour the coasts and quickly bring him in. 

Sax. That can your Excellence alone perform ; 

[Exit Brandenburg] 
Stay you, my lord, and guard the prisoners, 
While I, alas I unhappiest prince alive. 

Over his trunk consume myself in tears. 350 

Hath Alexander done this damned deed ? 
That cannot be, why should he slay his lord ? 
O cruel fate t O miserable me I ^ 

Methinks I now present Mark Antony, 

Folding dead Julius Caesar in mine arms. 355 

No, no, I rather will present Achilles 
And on Patroclus' tomb do sacrifice. 
Let me be spum'd and hated as a dog^ 
But I perform more direful, bloody rites 
Than Thetis' son for Menoetiades. 360 

Ed. Leave mourning for thy foes, pity thy friends. 

Siix. Friends have I none, and that which grieves my soul 
Is want of foes to work my wreak upon ; 
But were 3rou traitors four, four hundred thousand. 
Then might I satisfy m3melf with blood. 365 

Enter Brandenburg, Alexander, and Soldiers 

Sax. See, Alexander, where Caesar lieth slain, 
The guilt whereof the traitors cast on thee ; 
Speak, canst thou tell who slew thy sovereign ? 

AUx. Why, who but I ? How should I curse myself, 
If any but myself had done this deed ! 370 

This happy hand — bless'd be my hand therefore 1 — 
Reveng'd my father's death upon his soul : 
And, Saxon, thou hast cause to curse and ban ., 


That he is dead, before thou didst inflict 

Torments on him that so hath torn thy heart. 375 

Sax. What mysteries are these ? 

Bran. Princes, can you inform us of the truth ? 

Ed. The deed's so heinous that my faltering tongue 
Abhors the utterance. Yet I must tell it. 

Alex. Your Highness shall not need to take the pains ; 380 
What you abhor to tell, I joy to tell. 
Therefore be silent and give audience. 
You mighty men and rulers of the earth. 
Prepare your ears to hear of stratagems 

Whose dire effects have gall'd your princely hearts, 383 

Confounded your conceits, muffled your eyes. 
First, to begin, this villanous flend of hell 
Murther'd my father, sleeping in his chair ; 
The reason why, because he only knew 

All plots and complots of his villany ; 390 

His death was made the basis and the ground 
Of every mischief that hath troubled you. 

Sax. If thou, thy father, and thy progeny 
Were hang'd and burnt, and broken on the wheel. 
How could their deaths heap mischief on our heads ? 395 

Alex. And if you will not hear the reason— choose 1 
I tell thee, I have slain an Emperor, 
And thereby think myself as good a man 
As thou, or any man in Christendom ; 
Thou shalt entreat me, ere I tell thee more. 400 

Brand. Proceed ! 

Alex. Not 1 1 

Sax^ I prithee now {proceed ! 

Alex. Since you entreat me, then, I will proceed. 
This murtherous devil, having slain my father, 
Buzz'd cunningly into my credulous ears. 
That by a general council of the States, 405 

And, as it were, by Act of Parliament, 
The seven Electors had set down his death, 
And made the Empress executioner. 
Transferring all the guilt from him to you. 
This I believ'd, and first did set upon 410 

The life of princely Richard by the boors 
But how my purpose fail'd in that, his Grace best knows ; 
Next, by a double intricate deceit, 
Midst all his mirth, was Bohem poisoned. 


And good old Mentz to save Alphonso^ life 415 

(Who at that instant was in perfect health), 

'Twixt jest and earnest was made a sacrifice ; 

As for the Palatine, your Graces knew 

His Highness' and the Queen's unguiltmeBS ; 

But now, my Lord of Saxon, hark to me, 420 

Father of Saxon should I rather call you, 

'Twas I that made your Grace a grandfather. 

Prince Edward plough'd the ground, I sow'd the seed ; 

Poor Hedewick bore the most unhappy fruit, 

Created in a most unlucky hour, 425 

To a most violent and untimely death. 

Sax. O loathsome villain ! O detested deeds i 
O guiltless Prince ! O me most miserable I 

Brand. But tell us who reveal'd to thee at last 
This shameful guilt and our unguiltiness ? 430 

Alex. Why, that's the wonder, lords, and thus it was : 
When like a tyrant he had ta'en his seat. 
And that the fury of the fight began. 
Upon the highest watch-towY of the fort 
It was my office to behold aloft 435 

The war's event ; and having seen the end, 
T saw how victory, with equal vrings. 
Hang hovering 'twixt the battles here and there. 
Till at last the English lions fled. 

And Saxon's side obtain'd the victory; 440 

Which seen, I posted from the turret's top 
More furiously than e'er Laocoon ran, 
When Trojan hands drew in Troy's overthrow. 
But yet as fataUy as he or any. 

The t3nrant, seeing me, star'd in my face, 445 

And suddenly demanded what's the news ; 
I, as the Fates would have it, hoping that he 
Even in a twinkling would have slain 'em both, 
For so he swore before the fight began. 

Cried bitterly that he had lost the day ; 450 

The sound whereof did kill his dastard heart. 
And made the villain desperately confess 
The murther of my father, praying me 
"^th dire revenge to rid him of his life. 

Short tale to make, I bound him cunningly, 455 

Told him of the deceit, triumphing over 
And lastly with my rapier slew him dead. 


SoM. O, heavens. Justly- have you ta'en revenge I 
But fhou, thou murtherous, adulterous slave. 
What bull of Phalaris, what stiange device 460 

Shall we invent to take away thy life ? 

Alex. If Edward and the Empress, whom I sav'd. 
Will not requite it now, and save my life. 
Then let me die : contentedly I die. 
Having at last reveng'd my father's death. 465 

Sax, Villain, not all the world shall save thy life. 

Ed, Hadst thou not been author of my Hedewick's death, 
I would have certainly sav'd thee from death ; 
But if my sentence now may take efiect, 
I would adjudge the villain to be hang'd 470 

As here the Jews are hang'd in Germany. 

Sax. Young Prince, it shall be so ; go, drag the slave 
Unto the place of execution ! 
There let the Judas, on a Jewish gallows. 
Hang by the heels between two English mafrtiiffis ; 475 

There feed on dogs, let dogs there feed on thee. 
And by all means prolong his misery. 

Alex. O, might thyself, and all these English cats. 
Instead of mastifE-dogs, hang by my side. 
How sweetly would I tug upon your flesh. 480 

Sax. Away with him, suffer him not to speak. 

Exit Alexander [guardedl 
And now, my lords, CoUen, Trier, and Brandenburg, 
Whose hearts are bruis'd to think upon these woes. 
Though no man hath such reason as myself, 
We of the seven Electors that remain 485 

After so many bloody massacres. 
Kneeling upon our knees, humbly entreat 
Your Excellence to be our Emperor. 
The royalties of the coronation 
Shall be, at Aix, shortly solemnized. 4QO 

Col. Brave princely Richard, now refuse it not. 
Though the election be made in tears, 
Joy shall attend thy coronation. 

Rich. It stands not with mine honour to deny it, 
Yet, by mine honour, fain I would refuse it. 495 

Ed. Unde, the weight of all these miseriew 
Maketh my heart as heavy as your own, 
But an imperial crown would lighten it; 
Let this one reason make you take the crown. 


Rich. What's that, sweet nephew ? 

Ed, Sweet uncle, this it is ; 500 

Was never Englishman yet Emperor, 
Therefore to honour England and yourself. 
Let private sorrow yield to public fame. 
That once an Englishman bare Caesar's name. 

Rich. Nephew, thou hast prevail'd ; Princes, stand up ; 505 
We humbly do accept your sacred ofEer. 

Col. Then sound the trumpets, and cry, Vivai Casar I 

AU. Vivai Casar I 

Col. Richardus, Dei GraHa Romanorum Imperator, semper 
Augustus, Comes Comubiis. 510 

Rich. Sweet sister, now let Caesar comfort you ; 
And all the rest that yet are comfortless. 
Let them expect from English Caesar's hands 
Fteace and abundance of all earthly joy I 




Revenge for Honour 


Almanzor, Caliph of Arabia 
Abilqualit, his eldest son 
Abrahen his son by a second 

wife, brother to Abilqualit 
Tarifa, an old General, con- 

queror of Spain, tutor to 

Mora, a rough lord, a soldier, 

hinsman by his mother to 

Simanthes, a court lord, allied 

to Abrahen 

Selinthus, an honest, merry 
court lord 

Mesithes, a court eunuch, attend- 
ant on Abilqualit 

Osmaa, a captain to Tarifa 

Gaselles, another captain 

Caropia, wife to Mura, first 
beloved of Abrahen, then of 

Perilinda, her woman 

Soldiers, Mutes, Guard, Attend^ 



Our author thinks 'tis not i' th' power of wit. 

Invention, art, nor industry, to fit 

The several fantasies which in this age. 

With a predominant humour, rule the stage. 

Some men cry out for satire, others choose 5 

Merely to story to confine each Muse ; 

Most like no play but such as gives large birth 

To that which they judiciously term mirth, 

Nor will the best works with their liking crown, 

Except 't be graced with part of fool or clown. 10 

Hard and severe the task is then to write, 

So as may please each various appetite. 

Our author hopes well, though, that in this play. 

He has endeavour'd so he justiy may 

Gain liking from you all, unless those few 15 

Who wiU dislike, be't ne'er so good, so new ; 

The rather, gentlemen, he hopes, 'cause I 

Am a maia actor ia this tragedy : 

You've grac'd me sometimes in another sphere, 

And I do hope you'U not dislike me here. 20 

[A Room in the Courf] 

Enter Selinthus, Gaselles, and Osman. 

Set, No murmurings, noble Captains 1 

Gas, Murmurings, cousin ? 

This peace is worse to men of war and action 
Than fasting in the face o' th' foe, or lodging 
On the cold earth. Give me the camp, say I, 
Where in the sutier's palace on pay-day 5 

We may the precious liquor quaff, and kiss 
His buzom wife; who though she be not dad 



In Persian silks or costly Tyrian purples 

Has a clean skin, soft thighs, and wholesome corps. 

Fit for the trailer of the puissant pike lo 

To solace in delight with. 

Os, Here in your lewd city 

The harlots do avoid us sons o' th' sword 
Worse than a severe officer. Besides, 
Here men o' th' shop can gorge their musty maws 
With the delicious capon, and fat limbs 13 

Of mutton large enough to be held shoulders 
O' th' Ram [among] the twelve signs ; while for pure want 
Your soldier oft dines at the charge o' th' dead, 
'Mong tombs in the great mosque. 

Sel. 'Tis believ'd, coz. 

And by the wisest few too, that i' th' camp 20 

You do not feed on pleasant poults ; a salaid. 
And without oil or vinegar, appeases 
Sometimes your guts, although they keep more noise 
Than a large pool full of engend'ring frogs. 
Then for accoutrements you wear the buff, 25 

As you believ'd it heresy to change 
For linen : surely most of yours is spent 
In lint to make long tents for your green wounds 
After an onslaught. 

Gas. Coz, these are sad truths, 

Incident to frail mortals. 

Sel. You yet cry 30 

Out with more eagerness still for new wars 
Than women for new fashions. 

Os. 'Tis confess'd : 

Peace is more opposite to my nature than 
The running ache in the rich usurer's feet. 
When he roars out as if he were in hell 35 

Before his time. Why, I love mischief, coz, 
When one may do't securely ; to cut throats 
With a licentious pleasure, when good men 
And true o' th* jury with their frosty beards 
Shall not have power to give the noble weasand, 40 

Which has the steel defied, to th' hanging mercy 
Of the imgracious cord. 

Sel, Gentlemen both, 

And cousins mine, I do believe't much pity 
To strive to reconvert you from the faith 


You have been bred in : though your large discourse 45 

And praise, wherein you magnify your unstress 

War, shall scarce drive me from my quiet sheets. 

To sleep upon a turf. But pray say, cousins, 

How do you like your general. Prince [Abilqualit]» 

Is he a right Mars ? 

Gas, As if his nurse had lapp'd him 50 

In swaddling clouts of steel, a very Hector 
And Alcibiades. 

Sel. It seems he does not relish 

These boasted sweets of war ; for all his triumphs. 
He is reported melancholy. 

Os. Wont of exercise 

Renders all men of actions dull as dormice ; 55 

Your soldier only can dance to the drum. 
And sing a hymn of joy to the sweet trumpet : 
There's no music like it. 

Entar Abrahen, Mura, and Simanthes 

Abr. I'll know the cause, , 

He shall deny me hardly else. 

Mur. His melancholy 

Known whence it rises once, 't may much conduce 60 

To help our purpose. 

Gas. Pray, coz, what lords are these ? 

They seem as full of plot as generals 
Are in siege ; they're very serious. 

Sel, That young stripling 

Is our great Emperor's son by his last wife ; 
That in the rich embroidery's the Court Hermes,, 65 

One that has hatch'd more projects than the ovens 
In Egypt chickens ; the other, though they call 
Friends, his mere opposite planet. Mars, 
One that does put on a reserv'd gravity, 
Which some call wisdom, the rough soldier Mura, 70 

Governor i' th' Moroccos. 

Os. Him we've heard of 

Before ; but, cousin, shall that man of trust, 
Thy tailor, furnish us with new accoutrements ? 
Hast thou ta'en order for them ? 

Sel, Yes, yes, you shall 

Flourish in fresh habiliments ; but you must 75 

Promise me not to engage your corporal oaths 
You will see't satisfied at the next press, 


Out of the profits that arise from ransom 

Of those rich yeomans' heirs that dare not look 

The fierce foe in the feu:e. 

Gas. Doubt not our truths ; 80 

Though we be given much to contradictions. 
We will not pawn oaths of that nature. 

Sel. WeU then. 

This note does fetch the garments : meet me, cousins, 
Anon, at supper. 

Os. Honourable coz, 

We will come give our thanks. Exeunt Gaselles, Osman 

Enter Abilqualit 

Abr. My gracious brother, 8$ 

Make us not such a stranger to your thoughts, 
To consume all your honours in close retirements ; 
Perhaps since you from Spain retum'd a victor, 
With the world's conqueror, Alexander, you grieve 
Nature ordain'd no otiier earths to vanquish; 90 

If't be so, princely brother, we'll bear part 
In your heroic melancholy. 

AbiL Gentle youth. 

Press me no farther; I still hold my temper 
Free and unshaken ; only some fond thoughts 
Of trivial moment call my faculties 95 

To private meditations. 

Sim. Howsoe'er your Highness 

Does please to term them, 'tis mere melancholy. 
Which next to sin is the greatest malady 
That can oppress man's soul. 

Sel. They say right : 

And that your Grace may see what a mere madness, 100 

A very midsummer frenzy, 'tis to be 
Melancholy, for any man that wants no money, 
I, with your pardon, will discuss unto you 
All sorts, all sizes, persons, and conditions. 
That are infected with it, and the reasons 105 

Why it in each arises. 

Abr. Learned Selinthus, 

Let's taste of thy philosophy. 

Mur. Pish, 'tis unwelcome 

To any [man] of judgment, this fond prate : 
I marvel that our Emperor does permit » • ' 


Fools to abound 1' th' Court I 

Sel, What makes your grave lordship no 

In it, I do beseech you ? But, sir, mark me. 
The kernel of the text enucleated, 
I shall confute, refute, repel, refel, 
Explode, exterminate, expimge, extinguish 
LikiD a rush-candle, this same heresy, 115 

That is shot up like a pernicious mushroom 
To poison true humanity. 

[Abilqualit going i$ detained by Abrahen] 

Abr, You shall stay 

And hear a lecture read on your disease ; 
You shall, as I love virtue. 

Sel. Fust, the cause, then. 

From whence this flatus hypochondnacus, 120 

This glimmering of the gizzard (for in wildfowl 
'Tis term'd so by Hippocrates) arises. 
Is, as Averroes and Avicen, 
With Aben[h]u[a]car, Baruch, and Abo[la]fi, 
And all the Arabic writers have affirm'd, 125 

A mere defect, that is, as we interpret, 
A want of 

Abil. Of what, Selinthus ? 

Sel. Of wit, and please your Highness ; 

That is the cause in gen'ral ; for particular 
And special causes, they are all deriv'd 130 

From several wants ; yet they must be considered. 
Pondered, perpended, or premeditated. 

Sim. My lord, y'ad best be brief, your patient 
Will be weary else. 

Sel. 1 cannot play 

The fool rightly, I mean the ph3^cian, 135 

Without I have licence to [expatiate] 
On the disease. But, my good lord, more Imefly, 
I shall declare to you like a man of wisdom 
And no physician, who deal all in simples. 
Why men are melancholy. First, for your courtier — 140 

Sim. It concerns us all to be attentive, sir. 

Sel. Your sage and serious courtier, who does walk 
With a state face, as he had dress'd himself 
I' th' Emperor's glass, and had his beard tum'd up 
By the irons royal, he wiU be as pensive 145 

As stallion after [coition], when he wants 



Suits, begging suits, I mean. [To Simanthes] MetMob, 

my lord. 
You are grown something solemn on the sudden. 
Since your monopolies and patents, which 
Made your purse swell like a wet sponge, have been- 150 

Reduc'd to th' last gasp. Troth, it is far better 
To confess here than in a worser place. 
Is it not so indeed ? 

Abil. Whate'er he does 

By mine, I'm sure h'as hit the cause from whence 
Your grief springs. Lord Simanthes. 

SeL No Egyptian soothsayer 155 

Has truer inspirations than your small courtier's 
From causes and wants manifold ; as when 
The Emperor's count'nance with propitious noise 
Does not cry chink in pocket, no repute is 
With mercer, nor with tailor; nay, sometimes, too, 160 

The humour's pregnant in him when repulse 
Is given him by a beauty ; I can speak this, 
Though from no Memphian priest or sage Chaldean, 
From the best mistress, gentlemen, Experience. 
Last night I had a mind t'a comely seamstress, 165 

Who did refuse me, and behold ere since 
How like an ass I look. 

Entsr Tarifa 

Tar, What, at your counsels, lords ? The great Almanzor 
Requires your presence, Mura ; has decreed 
The war for Persia. You, my graicious lord, -1*70 

Prince AbilquaUt, are appointed chief ; 
And you, brave spirited Abrahen, an assistant 
To your victorious brother ; you. Lord Mura, 
Destin'd Lieutenant-General. 

Abil. And must 

I march against the foe, without thy company ? 175 

I relish not th' employment. 

Tar. Alas, my lord I 

Tarifa's head's grown white beneath his helmet ; 
And your good father thought it charity 
To spare mine age from travel : though this ease 
Will be more irksome to me than the toil iSo 

Of war in a sharp winter. 


Abr. [aside]. It arrives 

Just to our wish. — My gracious brother, I 
Anon shall wait on you : meantime, valiant Mura, 
Let us attend my father. 

Exeunt Abrahen, Mura, Simanthes. 

Ahih Good Selinthus, 

Vouchsafe awhile your absence, I shall have 185 

Employment shortly for your trust. 

S$l, Your Grace 

Shall have as much power to command Selinthus 
As his best fancied mistress. 
I am your creature. Exit 

Tar, Now, my lord, I hope 

Y'are cloth'd with all those resolutions 190 

That usher glorious minds to brave achievements. 
The happy Genius on your youth attendant 
Declares it built for victories and triumphs ; 
And the proud Persian monarchy, the sole 
Emulous opposer of the Arabic greatness, 195 

Courts, like a fair bride, your imperial arms. 
Waiting t'invest you sovereign of her beauties. 
Why are you dull, my lord ? Your cheerful looks 
Should with a prosperous augury presage 
A certain victory ; when you droop already, 200 

As if the foe had ravish'd from your crest 
The noble palm. For shame, sir 1 Be more sprightly ; 
Your sad appearance, should they thus behold you. 
Would half unsoul your army. 

Ahil. 'Tis no matter. 

Such looks best suit my fortune. Know, Tarifa, 205 

I'm undispos'd to manage this great voyage. 
And must not undertake it. 

Tar, Must not, sir 1 

Is't possible a lovensick youth, whose hopes 
Are fix'd on marriage, on his bridal night 
Should in soft slumbers languish, that your arms 210 

Should rust in ease, now when you hear the charge, 
And see before you the triumphant prize 
Destin'd t'adom your valour ? You should rather 
Be fumish'd with a power above these passions. 
And being invok'd by the mighty charm of honour, 215 

Fly to achieve this war, not undertake it. 
I'd rather you had said Tarifa lied, 

r.p. n 


Than utter'd such a sound, harsh and unwelcome. 

Abil, I know thou lov'st me truly, and durst I 
To any bom of woman speak my mtentions, 220 

The fatal cause which does withdraw my courage 
From this emplo3mient, which like health I covet. 
Thou shouldst enjoy it fully. But, Tarifa, 
The sad discovery of it is not fit 

For me to utter, much less for thy virtue 225 

To be acquainted with. 

Tar, Why, my lord ? 

My loyaity can merit no suspicion 
From you of falsehood : whatsoe'er the cause be. 
Or good or wicked, 't meets a trusty silence. 
And my best care and honest counsel shall 230 

Endeavour to reclaim (or to assist you 
If it be good), if ill, from your bad purpose. 

Abil. Why, that I know, Tarifa. 'Tis the love 
Thou bear'st to honour renders thee unapt 
To be partaker of those resolutions 235 

That by compulsion keep me from this voyage : 
For they with such iuevitable sweetness 
Invade my sense that, though in their performance 
My fame and virtue even to death do languish, 
I must attempt, and bring them unto act, 240 

Or perish i' th' pursuance. 

Tar, Heaven avert 

A mischief so prodigious I Though I wotdd not 
With over-saucy boldness press your counsels ; 
Yet pardon, sir, my loyalty which, timorous 
Of your lov'd welfare, must entreat, beseech you 245 

Wiii ardent love and reverence, to disclose 
The hidden cause that can estrange your courage 
From its own Mars, withhold you from this action 
So much allied to honour. Pray reveal it : 
By all your hopes of what you hold most precious, 250 

I do implore it ; for my faith in breeding 
Your youth in war's great rudiments, relieve 
Tarifa's fears, that wander into strange 
Unwelcome doubts lest some ambitious frenzy 
Gainst your imperial father's dignity 255 

Has late seduc'd your goodness. 

Abil, No, Tarifa, 

I ne'er durst aim at that unholy height 

' T 


In viperons wickedness ; a sin less, harmless, ' 

(If 't can be truly term'd one) 'tis my soul 

Labours even to despair with : 't fain would out, 260 

Did not my blushes interdict my languaige : 

'Tis unchaste love, Tarifa (nay, take't aU, 

And when thou hast it, pity my misfortunes) » 

To fair Caropia, the chaste, virtuous wife 

To surly Mura. 

Tw, What a fool desire is 1 265 

With giant strengths it makes us court the knowledge 
Of hidden mysteries, which once reveal'd. 
Far more inconstant than the air it fleets 
Into new wishes that the coveted secret 
Had slept still in oblivion. 

Ahil, I was certain 270 

'Twould fright thy innocence, and look to be 
Besieged with strong dissuasions from my purpose ; 
But be assured that I have tir'd my thoughts 
With all the rules that teach men moral goodness. 
So to reclaim them from this love-sick looseness ; 275 

But they (like wholesome medicines misapplied) 
Fac'd their best operation, fond and fruitiess. 
Though I as well may hope to kiss the sunbeams 
'Cause they shine on me, as from her to gain 
One glance of comfort, yet my mind, that pities 280 

Itself with constant tenderness, must needs 
Revolve the cause of its calamity. 
And melt i' th' pleasure of so sweet a sadness. 

Tear. Then y'are undone for ever, sir, undone 
Beyond the help of counsel or repentance. . 285 

'Tis most ignoble that a mind, unshaken 
By fear, should by a vain desire be broken. 
Or that those powers no labour e'er could vanquish. 
Should be o'ercome and thrall'd by sordid pleasuxe. 
Pray, sir, consider, that in glorious war, 290 

Which makes ambition (by base men termed sin) 
A big and gallant virtue, y'ave been nurs'd, 
Lull'd, as it were, into your infant sleeps 
By th' surly noise o' th' trumpet, which now summons 
Yon to victorious use of your endowments : 295 

And shall a mistress stay you ? Such a one too. 
As to attempt than war ilself 's more daogeroua 1 • • 

Ahil. All these persuasions are to as much purpose^ 


As you should strive to reinvest with peace, 

And all the jo3r8 of health and life, a soul 300 

Condenin'd to perpetuity ol torments. 

No, my Tarifa, though through all disgraces, 

Loss of my honour, fame, nay, hope for empire, 

I should be forc'd to wade to obtain her love. 

Those seas of mischief would be pleasing streams 505 

Which I would haste to bathe ia, and pass through them 

With that delight thou wouldst to victory. 

Or slaves longK^hain'd to th' oar to sudden freedom. 

Tar, Were you not Abilqualit, from this time then 
Our friendships (like two rivers from one head 310 

Rising) should wander a dissever'd course, 
And never meet again, unless to quarrel. 
Nay, old and stiff now as my iron garments. 
Were you my son, my sword should teach your wildness 
A swift way to repentance. Y'are my Prince, 315 

On whom all hopes depend ; think on your father. 
That lively image of majestic goodness. 
Who never yet wrong'd matron ia his lust. 
Or man ia his displeasure. Pray conjecture 
Your father, country, army, by my mouth 320 

Beseech your piety to an early pity 
Of your yet unslain innocence. No attention ? 
Farewell ; my prayers shall wait you, though my counsels 
Be thus despis'd. Farewell, Prince 1 Exit 

Abil, 'Las, good man, he weeps ! 

Such tears I've seen fall from his manly eyes 325 

Once when [h]e lost a battle. Why should I 
Put off my reason, valour, honour, virtue. 
In hopes to gain a beauty, whose possession 
Renders me more uncapable of peace 

Than I am now I want it ? Like a sweet, 330 

Much coveted banquet, 'tis no sooner tasted 
But its delicious luxury's forgotten ; 
Besides, it is unlawful. Idle fool, 
There is no law but what's prescribed by love, 
Nature's first moving organ ; nor can aught 335 

What Nature dictates to us be held vicious. 
On then, my soul, and destitute of feais. 
Like an adventurous mariner that knows 
Storms must attend him, yet daies court his peril. 
Strive to obtain this happy port. Mesithes, 340 


Love's cunning advocate, does for me besiege 

With gifts and vows her chastity. She is 

Compass'd with flesh that's not invuhierable. 

And may by love's sharp darts be pierc'd. They stand 

Firm whom no art can bring to love's command. 345 

Enter Abrahen 

Abr. My gracious brother t 

Abil, Dearest Abrahen, welcome I 

'Tis certainly decreed by our dread father, 
We must both march against th' insulting foe. 
How does thy youth, yet uninur'd to travel, 
Relish the emplo3rment ? 

Abr, War is sweet to those 350 

That never have experienc'd it. My youth 
Cannot desire in that big art a nobler 
Tutor than you, my brother : like an eaglet 
Following her dam, I shall your honour'd steps 
Trace through all dangers, and be proud to borrow 355 

A branch, when your head's covered o'er with laurel. 
To deck my humbler temples. 

Abil. I do know thee 

Of valiant, active soul ; and though a youth. 
Thy forward spirit merits the command 

Of chief, rather than second in an army. 360 

Would heaven our royal father had bestow'd 
On thee the charge of general. 

Abr, On me, sir I 

Alas, 'tis fit I first should know those arts 
That do distinguish valour from wild rashnesa 
A general, brother, must have abler nerves 365 

Of judgment than in my youth can be hop'd for. 
Yourself, already like a flourishing spring 
Teeming with early victories, the soldier 
Expects should lead them to new triumphs, as 
If you had vanquish'd fortune. 

Abil. I am not so 370 

Ambitious, Abrahen, of particular glories. 
But I would have those whom I love partake them. 
This Persian war, the last of the whole East, 
Left to be managed, if I can persuade 

The gxeat Almanzor, shall be the trophy 375 

Of thy yet maiden valour. I have done 


Enough already to ixiform succession 

That Abilqualit durst on fiercest foes 

Run to fetch conquest home, and would have thy name 

As great as mine in arms, that history 380 

Might register our family abounded 

With heroes bom for victory. 

Abr, 'Tis an honour 

Which, though it be above my powers, committed 
To my direction, I would seek to manage 
With care above my years, and courage equal 385 

To his that dares the horrid'st face of danger : 
But 'tis your noble courtesy would thrust 
This masc'line honour (far above his merits) 
On your regardless brother : for n^y father, 
He has no thought tending to your intentions ; 390 

Nor, though your goodness should desire, would hardly 
Be won to yield consent to them. 

AhiL Why, my Abrahen, 

We're both his sons, and should be botii alike 
Dear to's afiections ; and though birth hath giyen me 
The larger hopes and tities, 'twere unnatural, 395 

Should he not strive t' endow thee with a portion 
Apted to the magnificence of his ofispring. 
But thou perhaps art timorous lest thy ^ first 
£;ssa3rs of valour should meet fate disastrous. 
The bold are Fortune's darlings. If thou hast 400 

Courage to venture on this great employment. 
Doubt not I shall prevail upon our father 
T' ordain thee chief in this brave, hopeful voyage. 

Ahr, You imagine me 
Beyond all thought of gratitude, and doubt not 405 

That I'll deceiye your trust. The glorious ensigns 
Waving i' th' air once, like so many comets, 
Shall speak the Persians' funerals, on whose ruins 
We'll build to Fame and Victory new temples^ 
Which shall like pyramids preserve our memories 4x0 

When we are chang'd to ashes. 

Ahil. r. Be sure, continue 

In this brave mind ; I'll instantly solicit 
Our father to confirm thee in the charge 
Of general. I'll about it. Exit 

Ahr. Farewell, gracious brother I 

This haps above my hopes. 'Las, good dull fool, 415 


I see through thy intents, clear as thy soul 

Were as transparent as thin air or crystal. 

He would have me remov'd, march with the army. 

That he meantime might make a sure defeat 

On our aged lather's life and empire : 't must 420 

Be certain as the light. Why should not his. 

With equal heat, be, like my thoughts, ambitious ? 

Be they as harmless as the pray'rs of virgins, 

I'll work his ruin out of his intentions. 

He like a thick cloud stands 'twixt me and greatness, 425 

Greatness, the wise man's true felicity. 

Honour's direct inheritance. My youth 

Will quit suspicion of my subtle practice ; 

Then have I surly Mura and Simanthes, 

My allies by my dead mother's blood, my assistants, 430 

His eunuch too, Mesithes, at my service. 

Simanthes shaU inform the King the people 

Desire Prince Abilqualit's stay ; and Mura, 

Whose blunt demeanour renders him oraculous. 

Make a shrewd inference out of it. He is my half brother 435 

Th' other's my father ; names, mere airy titles 1 

Sovereignty's only sacred ; greatness goodness ; 

True self-aifiEection justice ; everything 

Righteous that's helpful to create a King. 

Ent&r Mura, Simanthes 

My trusty friends, y'are welcome ; 440 

Our fate's above our wishes ; AMlqualit, 
By whatsoe'er pow'r mov'd to his own ruin. 
Would fain enforce his charge of general on me, 
And stay at home. 

Sim. Why, how can this conduce 

T'advance our purpose ? 445 

Abr. ^Tis the mainest engine 

Could ever move to ruin him. Simanthes, 
You shall inform our father 'tis the people 
Out of their tender love desires his stay. 
You, Mura, shall infer my brother's greatness 
With [the] people out of it, how nice it is and dangerous. 450 
The air is open here ; come, we'll discourse 
'Wiih more secure privacy our purpose. 
Nothing's unjust, unsacred, tends to advance 
Us to a kingdom ; that's the height of chance. 



[A Room in the Couri] 

Enter Almanzor, Mura, and Simaathes 

Aim. How ? Not go, Simanthes ? 

Sim. My dread Sovereign, 

I speak but what the well-afiected people 
Out of their loyal care and pious duty 
Enjoin'd me utter ; they do look upon him 
As on your eldest son and next successor, 5 

And would be loth the Persian war should rob 
Their eyes of light, their souls of joy and comfort, 
This flourishing empire leave as it were widow'd 
Of its lov'd spouse : they humbly do beseech 
Your Majesty would therefore destine some 10 

More fitting general, whose loss (as Heaven 
Avert such a misfortune 1), should it happen, 
Might less concern the state. 

Aim. 'Tis not the least 

Among the blessings Heaven has shower'd upon us. 
That we are happy in such loving subjects, 15 

To govern whom, when we in peace are ashes, 
We leave them a successor whom they truly reverence. 
A loving people and a loving sovereign 
Makes kingdoms truly fortunate and flourishing. 
But I believe, Simanthes, their intents, 20 

Though we confirm them, will scarce take effect : 
My Abilqualit (like a princely lion. 
In view of's prey) will scarcely be o'ercome 
To leave the honour of the Persian war, 

In's hopes already vanquished by his valour, 35 

And rest in lazy quiet, while that triumph 
Is ravish'd by another. 

Sim. With the pardon 

Of your most sacred Majesty, 'tis fit then 
Your great commands forbid the Prince's voyage : 
Boldness enforces youth to hard achievements 30 

Before their time, makes them run forth like lapwings 
From their warm nest, part of the shell yet sticking 
Unto their downy heads. Sir, good success 


Is oft more fatal far than bad ; one wiiming 

Cast from a flattering die tempting a gamester 35 

To hazard his whole fortunes. 

Mur. This is dull. 

Fruitless philosophy; he that falls nobly 
Wins as much honour by his loss as conquest. 

Sim. This rule may hold well among common men, 
But not 'mong princes. Such a prince as ours is, 40 

Who knows as well to conquer men's aflections 
As he does enemies, should not be exposed 
To every new cause, honourable danger. 
Prince Abilquaht's fair and winning carriage 
Has stol'n possession of the people's hearts ; 45 

They dote on him since his late Spanish conquest. 
As new-made brides on their much-coveted husbands ; 
And they would pine like melancholy turtles. 
Should they so soon lose the unvalued object 
Both of their love and reverence : howsoe'er, 50 

Whatever your awful will, sir, shall determine, 
As Heaven, is by their strict obedience 
Held sacred and religious. 

Aim. Good Simanthes, 

Let them receive our thanks for their true care 
Of our dear Abilquaht. We'll consider 55 

Of their request, say. 

Sim. Your Highness' humblest creature I Exit 

Mur, I do not like this. 

Aim. Like what, valiant Mura ? 

We know thy counsels so supremely wise, 
And thy true heart so excellently faithful. 
That whatsoe'er displeases thy sage judgment 60 

Almanzor's wisdom must account distasteful. 
What is't dislikes thee ? 

Mur. Your Majesty knows me 

A downright soldier, I afEect not words ; 
But to be brief, I relish not your son 

Should (as if you were in your tomb already) 65 

Engross so much the giddy people's favours. 
'Tis neither fit for him, nor safe for you 
To suffer it. 

Aim. Why, how can they, Mura, 

Give a more serious testimony of reverence 
To me than by conferring their afEections, 70 


Their pious wishes, zealous contemplations. 
On him that sits the nearest to my heart. 
My Abilqualit, in whose hopeful virtues 
My age more glor[ies] than in all my conquests ? 

Mur, May you prove fortunate in your pious care 73 

Of the Prince AbUqualit. But, my lord, 
Mura is not so prone to idle language 
(The parasite's best ornament) to utter 
Aught but what, if you'll please to give him audience. 
He'll show you a blunt reason for. 

Aim, Come, I see 80 

Into thy thoughts, good Mura ; too much care 
Of us informs thy loyal soul with fears 
The Prince's too much popularity 
May breed our danger : banish those suspicions ; 
Neither dare they who under my long reign 85 

Have been triumphant in so many blessings, 
Have the least thought may tend to disobedience ; 
Or if they had, my Abilqualit's goodness 
Would ne'er consent with them to become impious. 

Mur, 'Tis too secure a confidence betrays 90 

Minds valiant to irreparable dangers. 
Not that I dare invade with a foul thought 
The noble Prince's loyalty ; but, my lord, 
When this same many-headed beast, the people, 
Violent, and so not constant in affections, 95 

Subject to love of novelty (the sickness 
Proper fall human, specially light natures), 
Do magnify with too immoderate praises 
The Prince's actions, dote upon his presence, 
Nay, chain their souls to th' shadow of his footsteps ; 100 
As all excesses ought to be held dangerous, 
Especially when they do aim at sceptres. 
Their too much dotage speaks you in their wishes 
Are dead already, that their darling hope 
The Prince might have the throne once. 

Aim. 'Tis confess'd, 105 

All this a serious truth. 

Mur, Their mad applauses 

O' th' noble Prince, though he be truly virtuous. 
May force ambition into him, a mischief 
Seizing the soul with too much craft and sweetness, 
^. pride or lust does minds unstaid and wanton : no 


'T makes men like poison'd rats, which when they've 

The pleasing bane, rest not until they drink, 
And can rest then much less, imtil they buxBt with't. 

Aim, Thy words are still oraculous. 

Mur, Pray then ithink 

^th what an easy toil the haughty Prince, 115 

A demigod by th' popular acclamations. 
Nay, the world's sovereign in the vulgar wishes. 
Had he a resolution to be wicked, 
Might snatch this diadem from your aged temples ? 
What law so holy, tie of blood. so mighty, 120 

Which, for a crown, minds sanctified and religious 
Have not presum'd to violate ? How much more then 
May the soul-dazzling glories of a sceptre 
Work in his youth, whose constitution's fiery 
As overheated air, and has, to fan it 125 

Into a flame, the breath of love and praises 
Blown by strong thought of his own worth and actions. 

Aim. No more of this, good Murai. 

Mur, They dare already limit your intentions ; . 
Demand, as 'twere, with cunning zeal (which, rightly 130 

Interpreted, is insolence), the Prince's 
Abode at home. I will not say it is. 
But I guess 't may be their subtle purpose 
While we abroad fight for new kingdoms' purchase, 
Depriv'd by that means of our faithful succouiB, 135- 

They may deprive you of this crown, enforce 
Upon the Prince this diadem ; which however 
He may be loath t'accept, being once possess'd of 't. 
And tasted the delights of supreme greatness. 
He'll be more loath to part with. To prevent this, 140 

Not that I think it will, but that may happen, 
'Tis fit the Prince march. I've observed in him, too. 
Of late a sullen melancholy, whence rising 
I'll not conjecture ; only I should grieve, sir. 
Beyond a moderate sorrow, traitorous practice 145' 

Should take that from you, which with loyal blood • / 

Ours and your own victorious arms have purchas'di 
And now I have discharg'd my honest conscience, , ' 

Censure on't as you please ; henceforth I'm silent. . ; ' 

A Im. Would l^ou hadst been so now 1 Thy loyal feaiv 1 50 
Have made me see how miserable a king is 


Whose rule depends cm the vain people's sufErage. 

Black now and horrid as the face of storms 

Appears all Abilqualit's lovely virtues 

Because to me they only make him dangerous, 155 

And with great terror shall behold those actiofis 

Which with delight before we view'd, and dotage ; 

Like mariners that bless the peaceful seas. 

Which, when suspected to grow up tempestuous. 

They tremble at. Though he may still be virtuous, 160 

'Tis wisdom in us, to him no injustice. 

To keep a vigilant eye o'er his proceedings 

And the wild people's purposes. 

EnUr AbOquaht 

Abilqualit ! 
Come to take your leave, I do conjecture. 

AM. Rather, sir, to beg 165 

Your gracious licence I may still at home 
Attend your dread commands, and that you'd please 
To nominate my hopeful brother Abrahen 
(In lieu of me) chief of your now raised forces 
For th' Pexsian expedition. 170 

Aim. Dare you, sir. 

Presume to make this suit to us ? 

Abil, Why, my royal lord, 

I hope this cannot pull your anger on 
Your most obedient son ; a true afiEection 
To the young Prince, my brother, did beget 
This my request ; I willingly would have 175 

His youth adom'd with glory of this conquest. 
No tiree bears fruit in autumn, 'less it blossom 
First in the spring ; 'tis fit he were acquainted 
In these soft yeaiB with mihtary action. 

That when grown perfect man, he may grow up too 180 

Perfect in warlike discipline. 

Aim. Hereafter 

We shall by your appointment guide our counsels. 
Why do you not intreat me to resign 
My crown, that you, the people's much-lov'd minion, 
May with't impale your glorious brow ? Sir, h^icefortii, 185 
Or know your duty better, or your pride 
Shall meet our just-wak'd anger. To your charge, 
And march with speed, or you shall Imow what 'tis 


To disobey our pleasure. When y'are king. 

Learn to command your subjects ; I will mine, sir. 190 

You know your charge, perform it. 

Exit Almanzor and Mura 

AbiL I have done. 

Our hopes, I see, resemble much the sun. 
That rismg and declining cast[s] large shadows; 
But when his beams are dress'd in*s midday brightness, 
Yields none at all : when they are farthest fr(»n 195 

Success, their gilt reflection does display 
The largest shows of events fair and prosperous. 
With what a settled confidence did I promise 
Myself my stay here, Mura's wish'd departure I 
When 'stead of these, I find my father's wrath ' 200 

Destroying mine intentions. Such a fool 
Is self-compassion, soothing us to faith 
Of what we wish should hap, while vain desire 
Of things we have not, makes us quite forget 
Those we're possess'd of. 

EnUr Abrahen 

Abr. [aside] Alone the engine works 205 

Beyond or hope or credit. How I hug 
With vast delight, beyond that of stolen pleasures 
Forbidden lovers taste, my darling mistress. 
My active brain 1 If I can be thus subtle 
While a young serpent, when grown up a dragon 210 

How glorious shall I be in cunning practice 1 — 
My gracious brother I 

AbiL Gentle Abrahen, I 

Am griev'd my power cannot comply my promise ; 
My father's so averse from granting my 

Request concerning thee, that with angry frowns 2x5 

He did express rather a passionate rage 
Than a refusal civil, or accustom'd 
To his indulgent disposition. 

Abr, He's our father. 

And so the tyrant custom doth enforce us 
To yield him that which fools call natural, 220 

When wise men know 'tis more than servile duty, 
A slavish, blind dbedience to his pleasure. 
Be it nor just, nor honourable. 


Abil, O my Abrahen, 

These sounds are nnharmonious, as unlook'd-for 
From thy unblemished innocence ; though he could 225 

Put ofE paternal piety, 't gives no privilege 
For us to wander from our filial duty ; 
Though harsh, and to our natures much unwelcome 
Be his decrees, like those of Heaven, we must not 
Presume to question them. 

Abr. Not if they concern 230 

Our lives and fortunes ? 'Tis not for myself 
I urge these doubts ; but 'tis for you, who are 
My brother; and^ I hope, must be my sovereign, 
My fears grow on me almost to distraction ; 
Our father's age betrays him to a dotage 235 

Which may be dang'rous to your future safety ; 
He does suspect your loyalty. 

AbiL How, Abrahenl 

Abr. 1 knew 'twould start your innocence ; but 'tis truth, 
A sad and serious truth ; nay, his suspicion 
Almost arriv'd into a settled faith 240 

That y'are ambitious. 

AbiL *Tis impossible ! 

. Abr, The glorious shine of your illustrious virtues 
Are grown too bright and dazzling for his eyes 
To look on, as he ought, with admiration ; 
And he with fear beholds them, as it were, 245 

Through a perspective where each brave action 
Of yours survey'd though at remotest distance. 
Appears far greater than it is. In brief. 
That love which you have purchas'd from the people, 
That sing glad hymns to your victorious fortunes, 250 

Betrays you to his hate ; and in this voyage. 
Which he enforces you to undertake, 
Jf,p has set spies upon you. 

Abil. 'Tis so; afiSlictions 

Do fall like hailstones, one no sooner drops, 
But a whole shower does follow. I observ'd 255 

Indeed, my Abrahen, that his looks and language 
Was dress'd in unaccustom'd clouds, but did not 
Imagine they'd presaged so fierce a tempest. 
Ye gods ! why do you give us gifts and graces. 
Share your own attributes with men, your virtues, . 260 

When they betray them to' worse hate than vices ? 


Bat. Abrahen, prithee reconfirm my fears 

By testimonial how this can be truth ; 

For yet my innocence with too credulous trust 

Soothes up my soul, our father should not thus 265 

Put that ofi which does make him so, his sweetness, 

To feed the irregular flames of false suspicions 

And soul-tormenting jealousies. 

Ahr, Why, to me. 

To me, my lord, he did with strong injunctions 
Give a solicitous charge to overlook your actions. -270 

' My Abrahen/ quoth he, ' I'm not so unhappy 
That like thy brother thou shouldst be ambitious. 
Who does afiect, 'fore thy ag'd father's ashes. 
With greedy lust my Empire. Have a strict 
And cautious diligence to observe his carriage; 275 

'Twill be a pious care.' Mov'd with the base 
Indignity that he on me should force 
The office of a spy, — ^your spy, my noble 
And much-lov'd brother 1 — ^my best manhood scarce 
Could keep my angry tears in ; I resolv'd 2S0 

I was in duty boimd to give you early 
Intelligence of his unjust intentions. 
That you in wisdom might prevent all dangers 
Might fall upon you from them like swift lightning. 
Killing 'cause they invade with sudden fierceness. . 295 

AhiL In afflicting me misery is grown witty. 

Abr. Nay, besides, sir, 

The sullen Mura has the self-same charge too 
Consign'd and settled on him ; which his blind 
Duty will execute. O brother, your 

Soft passive nature does, like jet on fire 290 

When oil's cast on't, extinguish : otherwise . 
This base suspicion would inflame your suflerance, 
Nay, make the purest loyalty rebellious. 
However, though your too religious piety 
Forces you 'ndure this foul disgrace with patience, 295 

Look to your safety, brother, that dear safety 
Which is not only yours, but your whole Empire's : 
For my part, if a faithful brother's service 
May aught avail you, though against our father, 
Since he can be so unnaturally suspicious, 300 

As your own thoughts command it. 


EnUr SelinthuB and 

Ssl. Come, I know. 

Although th'ast lost some implements of manhood 
liay make thee gracious in the sight of woman. 
Yet th'ast a little engine call'd a tongue. 
By which thou canst overcome the nicest female 305 

In the behalf of friend. In sooth, you eunuchs 
May well be styl'd pimps-royal for the skill 
You have in quaint procurement. 

Mas, Your lordship's merry. 

And would enforce on me what has been your office 
Far oftener than the cunning'st squire belonging 310 

To the smock transitory. May't please your Highness — 

[Whispers to Abilqualit] 

Abil, Ha, Mesithes t 

Abr. [iiside] His countenance varies strangely, some affair 
The eunuch gives him notice of, 't should seem. 
Begets much pleasure in him. 

Abil, Is this truth ? 315 

Mes. Else let me taste your anger. 

Abil. My dear Abrahen, 

We'll march to-night, prithee give speedy notice 
To our Ueutenant Mura to collect 
The forces from their several quarters and 
Draw them into battalia on the plain 320 

Behind the city ; lay a strict command 
He stir not from the ensigns till ourself 
Arrive in person there. Be speedy, brother, 
A Uttle hasty business craves our presence, 
We will anon be with you, my Mesithes. 325 

Exeunt Abilqualit and Mesithes 

Sel. Can your Grace imagine 
Wh[i]ther his Highness goes now ? 

Abr. No, Selinthus ; 

Canst thou conjecture at the eunuch's business ? 
Whate'er it was, his countenance seem'd much alter'd : 
I'd give a talent to have certain knowledge 330 

What was Mesithes' message. 

Sel. I'll inform you 

At a far easier rate. Mesithes' business 
Certes concem'd a limber petticoat, 
And the smock soft and slippery ; on my honour. 
Has been providing for the Prince some female, 335 


That he takes his leave of ladies' flesh 
Ere his departure. 

Ahr. Not improbable. 

It may be so. 

Sel, Nay, certain, air, it is so: 

And I believe your little body earns 

After the same sport. You were once reported 340 

A wag would have had business of engendering 
With surly Mura's lady ; and men may 
Conjecture y'are no chaster than a vot'ry : 
Yet, though she would not solace your desires. 
There are as handsome ladies will be proud 345 

To have your Grace inoculate their stocks 
With your graft-royal. 

Ahr. Thou art Selinthus still, 

And wilt not change thy humour. I must go 
And find our Mura ; so farewell, Selinthus ; 
Thou art not for these wars, I know. Exit 

Sel. . No, truly, 350 

Nor yet for any other, 'less 't be on 
A naked yielding enemy ; though there may 
Be as hot service upon such a foe 
As on those clad in steel : the little squadron 
We civil men assault body to body, 355 

Oft carry wild-fire about them privately. 
That singes us i' th' service from the crown 
Even to the sole, nay, sometimes hair and all ofl. 
But these are transitory perils. 

Enter Gaselles, Osman 

I thought you had been dancing to the drum ; 360 

Your General has given order for a march 
This night, I can assure you. 

Gas. It is, cousin. 

Something of the soonest ; but we are prepared 
At an times for the journey. 

Ssl, To-morrow morning 

May serve the turn though. Hark you, cousins mine ; 365 
If in this Persian war you chance to take a 
Handsome she-captive, pray you be not unmindful 
Of us your friends at home ; I will disburse 
Her ransom, cousins, for I've a month's mind 

CD.W. X K 


To try if strange flesh, or that of our own conntry, 370 

Has the completer relish. 

Os, We will accomplish 

Thy pleasure, noble cousin. 

Sel. But pray do not 

Take the first say of her yourselves. I do not 
Love to walk after any of my kindred 
I' th' path of copulation. 

Gas, The first fruits 375 

Shall be thy own, dear coz. But shall we part 
(Never perhaps to meet again) with dry 
Lips, my right honour'd coz ? 

Sel By no means, 

Though by the Alkoran wine be forbidden. 
You soldiers, in that case, make't not your faith. 380 

Drink water in the camp, when you can purchase 
No other liquor ; here you shall have plenty 
Of wine, old and delicious. I'll be your leader. 
And bring you on, let who will bring you off. 
To the encounter, come, let us march, cousins. 385 

Exeunt omnes 

[A Room in the House of Mura] 

Enter Abilqualit, Caropia, and Mesithes, Perilinda 

Car, No more, my gracious lord, where real love is. 
Needless are all expressions ceremonious : 
The amorous turtles, that at first acquaintance 
Strive to express in murmuring notes their loves. 
Do when agreed on their affections change 5 

Their chirps to billing. 

AM, And in feather'd arms 

Incompass mutually their gaudy necks. 

[Embracing Caropia] 

Mes, How do you like 
These love tricks, Perilinda ? 

Per. Very well ; 

But one may sooner hope from a dead man xo 

To receive kindness, than from thee» an eunuch* 


Yoa are the coldest creatures in the bodies ; ... 
No snow-balls like yon.' 

Mes, We must needs, who have not 

That which like fire should warm our constitutions* 
The instruments of copulation, girl, 15 

Our toys to please the ladies. 

Ahil. Caropia, in your weU-becoming pity 
Of my extreme afGUctions and stem sufEerings 
You've shown that excellent mercy as must render 
Whatever action you can fix on virtuous. 20 

But, lady, I till now have been your tempter. 
One that desir'd, hearing the brave resistsince 
You made my brother when he woo'd your love. 
Only to boast the glory of a conquest 

Which seem'd impossible ; now I have gain'd it, 25 

By being vanquisher I myself am vanquish'd, 
Your everlasting captive. 

Car, Then the thraldom 

Will be as prosperous as the pleasing bondage 
Of palms that flourish most when bow'd down fastest. 
Constraint makes sweet and easy things laborious, 30 

When love makes greatest miseries seem pleasures. 
Yet 'twas ambition, sir, join'd with affection. 
That gave me up a spoil to your temptations. 
I was resolv'd if ever I did make 

A breach on matrimonial faith, 't should be 35 

With him that was the darling of kind Fortune 
As well as liberal Nature, who possess'd 
The height of greatness to adorn his beauty; 
Which since they both conspire to make you happy, 
I thought 'twould be a greater sin to suffer 40 

Your hopeful person, bom to sway this Empire, 
In love's hot flames to languish by refusal 
To a consuming fever than t' infringe 
A vow which ne'er proceeded from my heart •• 

When I unwillingly made it. 

Abil. And may break it 45 

With confidence, secure from the least guilt, 
As if t had only in an idle dream 
Been by your fancy ;^hted. Madam,: there 
Can be no greater misery in love 

Than separation from the object which 50 

We affect; and such is our misfortune, we 


Most i' th' infancy of our desires 
Breathe at unwelcome distance ; i' th' meantime 
Let's make good nse of the most precious minutes 
We have to spend together. 

Car. . Else we were 55 

Unworthy to be titled lovers ; but 
I fear loath'd Mura may with swift approach 
Disturb our happiness. 

Ahil, By my command 

He's must'ring up our forces. Yet, Mesithes, 
Go you to Abrahen, and with intimations 60 

From us, strengthen our charge. Come, my Caropia, 
Love's wars are harmless, for whoe'er does yield 
Gains as much honour as who wins the field. 


[Anoth&r Room in the House of Mura] 

Enter Abilqualit and Caropia, as rising from bed ; Abrahen without, 


Abr, [withouf]. Open the door I I must and will have 
Unto the Prince, my brother. As you love 
Your life and safety and that lady's honour. 
Whom you are lodg'd in amorous twines with, do not 
Deny me entrance to you. I am Abrahen, 5 

Your loyal brother Abrahen. 

Abil. 'Tis his voice. 

And there can be no danger in't, Caropia. 
Be not dismay'd, though we're to hini discover'd. 
Your fame shall taste no blemish by't. [Enter Abrahen] 

Now, brother, 
'Tis something rude in you thus violently 10 

To press upon our privacies. 

Abr. My affection 

Shall be my advocate, and plead my care 
Of your lov'd welfare ; as you love your honour. 
Haste from this place, or you'll betray the lady 
To ruin most inevitable. Her husband 13 

Has notice of your being here, and's coming 


On wings of jealousy and desperate rage 

To intercept yon in your close delights. 

In brief, I overheard a trusty servant 

Of his i' th' pamp come and declare your Highness 90 

Was private with Caropia ; at which tidings 

The sea with greater haste when vex'd with tempests, 

Sudden and boisterous, flies not towards the shore, 

Than he intended homewards. He by this 

Needs must have gain'd the city ; for with all my power 25 

I hasted hitherward, that by your absence 

You might prevent his view of you. 

AbiL Why ? The slave 

Dare not invade my person, had he found me 
In fair Caropia's arms : 'twould be ignoble, 
Now I have caus'd her danger, should I not V9 

Defend her from his violence. I'll stay 
Though he come arm'd with thunder. 

Abr. That will bo 

A certain means to ruin her : to me 
[Commit] that cure, I'll stand between the lady 
And Mura's fury, when your very sight, 35 

Qiving fresh fire to th' injury, will incense him 
Gainst her beyond. all palience. 

Car. Nay, besides. 

His violent wrath, breaking through his allegianoe. 
May riot on your peison. Dear my lord, 
Withdraw yourself ; there may be some -excuse, 40 

When you are absent, thought on to take ofi 
Mura's suspudon : by our loves, depart, 
I do beseech you. Hapless I was bom 
To be most miserable. 

AbiL You shall overrule me. 

Better it is for him with unhallowed hands 45 

To act a sacrilege on our Prophet's tomb 
Than to profane this purity with the least 
Offer of injury : be careful, Abrahen, 
To thee I leave my heart. Farewell, Caropia, 
Your tears enfiozce my absence. Exit Abilqualit 

Abr, Pray haste*, my lord, 50 

Lest you should meet the enrag'd Mura. Now, madam, - 
Where are the boasted glories of that virtue. 
Which like a faithful fort withstood my batt'ries ? 
Demolished no^^ and ruin'd they appear. 


Like a fair building tottered from its base 55 

By an unruly whirlwind, and are now 
Instead of love the objects of my pity. 

Car. I'm1>ound to thank you, sir ; yet credit me, 
My sin's so pleasing 't cannot meet repentance. 
Were Mura here, and arm'd with all the horrozB 60 

Rage could invest his powers with, not forgiv^i 
Hermits with greater peace shall haste to death. 
Than I to be the mart3n: of this cause. 
Which I so love and reverence. 

Ahf, 'Tis a nobie 

And well'-becoming constancy, and merits 65 

A lover of those supreme eminent graces, 
That do like full winds swell the glorious sails 
Of Abilqualit's dignity and beauty ! 
Yet, madam, let me tell you, though I could not 
Envy my brother's happiness, if he 70 

Could have enjoy 'd your priceless love with safety 
Free from discovery, I am afflicted 
Beyond a moderate sorrow, that my youth 
Which with as true a zeal, courted your love» 
Should appear so contemptible to receive 75 

A killing scorn from you : yet I forgive you. 
And do so much respect your peace, I wish 
You had not. sinn'd so carelessly to be 
Betray'd i' th' first fruitions of your wishes 
To your suspicious husband. 

Car, 'Tis a fate, sir, 80 

Which I must stand, though it come dress'd in fJaineB, 
Killing as circular fire, and as prodigious 
As death-presaging comets : there's that strength 
In love, can change the pitchy face of dangers 
To pleasing forms, make ghastly fears seem beauteous. 85 

And I'm resolv'd, since the sweet Prince is free 
From Mura's anger which might have been fatal 
If he should here have found him, unresistless 
I dare his utmost fury. 

Ahr, 'Twill bring death with't. 

Sure as stifling damp ; and 'twere much pity 90 

So sweet a beauty should unpitied fall, 
Betray'd to endless infamy ; your husband 
Knows only that my brother in your chamber 
Was entertained ; the servant that betray'd yoa» 


Curse on his diligence ! could not affirm 95 

He saw you twin'd together : yet it is 
Death by the law, you know, for any lady 
At such an hour, and in her husband's absence. 
To entertain a stranger. 

Car, 'Tis considered, sir; 

And since I cannot live to enjoy his love, 100 

I'll meet my death as willingly as I 
Met Abilqualit's dear embraces. 

Abr. That 

Were too severe a cruelty. Live, Caropia, 
Till the kind destinies take the loath'd Miira 
To their eternal niansions, till he fall 105 

Either in war a sacrifice to Fortune, 
Or else by stratagem take his destruction 
From angry Abilqualit, whose fair Empress 
You were created for : there is a mean yet 
To save th' opinion of your honour spotless no 

As that of virgin innocence, nay, to preserve 
(Though he doth know, as certainly he must do, 
My brother have enjoy'd thee), thee still precious 
In his deluding fancy. 

Car. Let me adore you 

If you can give effect to your good purpose : 115 

But 'tis impossible. 

Abr. With as secure an ease 

'T shall be accomplished as the blest desires 
Of uncrossed lovers ; you shall with one breath 
Dissolve these mists that with contagious darkness 
Threaten the lights both of your life and honour. ' 120 

Affirm my brother ravish'd you. 

Car. How, my lord I 

Abr. Obtained by violence entry into your chamber. 
Where his big lust, seconded by force, 
Despite of yours and your maid's weak resistance 
Surprised your honour ; when't shall come to question, 125 
My brother cannot so put off the truth. 
He owes his own affection and your whiteness. 
But to acknowledge it a rape. 

Car. And so 

By saving mine, betray his fame and safety 
To the law's danger and your father's justice, 130 

Which with impartial doom will most severely 
Sentence the Prince, although his soni 


Ahr. Your fears 

And too affectionate tenderness will ruin 
All that my care has builded. — [Aside\ Sure, Mesithes 
Has (as my charge enjoin'd him) made relation 135 

To him of Abilqaalit's action.--{Enl0r Mnra] See your 

husband 1 
Resolve on't, or y'are miserable. 

Mftr. Furies I 

Where is this lustful prince, and this lascivious 
Strumpet ? Ha, Abrahen here 1 

Abr. Good cousm Mura, 

Be not so passionate, it is your Prince 140 

Has wrought your injury ; resolve to bear 
Your crosses like a man : the great'st afflictions 
Should have the greatest fortitude in their sufi'rings 
From minds resolv'd and noble. 'Las poor lady 1 
'Twas not her fault ; his too unruly lust 145 

'Tis, has destro3r*d her purity. 

Mur. Ha, in tears 1 

Are these the livery of your feais and penitence. 
Or of your sorrows, minion, for being robb'd 
So soon of your adulterer ? 

Ahr, Fie, your passion 

Is too unmannerly ; you look upon her 150 

With eyes of rage, when you with grief and pity 
Ought to survey her innocence. My brother, 
Degenerate as he is from worth, and merely 
The beast of lust, what fiends would fear to violate 
Has with rude insolence destroyed, her honour, 155 

By him inhuman ravished. 

Car. Good sir, be 

So merciful as to set free a wretch 
From loath'd mortality, whose life's so great 
And hateful burden now sh'as lost her honour; 
'Twill be a friendly charity to deliver 160 

Her from the torment of it. 

Muf. That I could 

Contract the soul of universal rage 
Into this swelling heart, that it might be 
As full of poisonous anger as a dragon's 

When in a toil ensnar'd. Caropia ravished t 165 

Methinks the horror of the sound should fright 
To everlasting ruin the whole world. 


Start Nature's Genius. 

Abr. Gentle madam, pray 

Withdraw yourself ; your sight, till I have wrought 
A cure upon his temper, will but add 170 

To his aflUction. 

Car, You're as my good angel : 

I'll follow your directions. Exit 

Abr, Cousin Mura, 

I thought a person of your mascaUne temper. 
In dangers foster'd, where perpetual terroxs 
Have been your playfellows, would not have resented 175 

With such effeminate passion a disgrace. 
Though ne'er so huge and hideous. 

Mur. I am tame. 

Collected now in all my feiculties. 
Which are so much opp ress'd with injuries, 
They've lost the anguish of them ; can you think, sir, 180 

When all the winds fight, the enrag'd billows 
That use to imprint on the black lips of clouds 
A|thousand briny kisses, can lie still 
As in a lethargy ; that when baths of oil 
Are pour'd upon the wild, irregular flames 185 

In populous cities, that they'll then extinguish ? 
Your mitigations add but seas to seas. 
Give matter to my fires to increase their burning. 
And I ere long ei^hten'd by my anger 
Shall be my own pile, and consume to ashes. igo 

Abr, Why, then I see indeed your injuries 
Have ravished hence your reason and discourse, 
And left you the mere prostitute of passion. 
Can you repair the ruins you lament so 
With these eacdaims ? Was ever dead man call'd 195 

To life again by fruitful sighs, or can 
Your rage re-edify Caropia's honour. 
Slain and betray'd by his foul lust ? Your manhood. 
That heretofore has thrown 3rou on all dangers, 
Methinks should prompt you to a noble vengeance, 200 

Which you may safely prosecute with justice ; 
To which this crime, although he be a Prince, 
Renders him liable. 

Mur. Yes, I'll have justice ; 

Or I'll awake the sleepy deities. 
Or like the ambitious giants wage nsw wars 205 


With heaven itself ; my wrongs shall steel my courage ; 

And on this vicious Prince, like a fierce sea-breach, 

My just-wak'd rage shall riot till it sink 

In tiie remorseless eddy, sink where Time 

Shall never find his name but with disgrace 210 

To taint his hateful memory. 

Abr, This wildness 

Neither befits your wisdom nor your courage, 
Which should with settled and collected thoughts, 
Walk on to noble vengeance. He before 
Was by our plots proscrib'd to death and ruin 215 

To advance me to the Empire ; now with ease 
We may accomplish our designs. 

Mur, Would heaven 

I ne'er had given consent, o'ercome by love 
To you, to have made a forfeit on my allegiance ; 
'Tis a just punishment, I by him am wrong'd, 220 

Whom, for your sake, I fearless sought to ruin. 

Abr, Are you repentant grown, Mura ? This softness 
111 suits a person of your great resolves. 
On whom my fortunes have such firm dependence. 
Come, let Cairopia's fate invoke thy vengeance 225 

To gain full mast'ry o'er all other passions ; 
Leave not a comer in thy spacious heart 
Unfumish'd of a noble rage, which now 
Will be an attribute of glorious ju^ce : 

The law, you know, with loss xyf sight doih punish 230 

All rapes, though on mean persons ; and our father 
Is so severe a justicer, not blood 
Can make a breach upon his faith to justice. 
Besides we have already made him dangerous 
In great Almanzor's thoughts, and being delinquent, 235 

He needs must suffer what the meanest ofiender 
Merits for such a trespass. 

Mur, I'm awake now ; 

The lethargy of horror and amaze 
That did obscure my reason, like those dull 
And lazy vapours that o'eishade the sun, 240 

Vanish, and it resumes its native brightness. 
And now I would not but this devil Prince 
Had done this act upon Caropia's whiteness, 
Since't 3rields you free access imto the empire ; 
The deprival ofs sight does render him incapable 245 

Of future sovereignty. 


Ahr. Thou'rt in the right. 

And hast put on manly considerations : 
Caropia (since she's in her will untainted) 
Has not foregone her honour ; he dispatch'd onoe» 
As we will have him shortly ('t shall go hard els^ 250 

A tenant to his marble, thou again 
Wedded in peace may'st be to her pure virtues, 
And live their happy owner. 

Mur, I'll repair 

To great Almanzor instantly, and if 

His partial piety do descend to pity, 255 

I will awake the executioner 
Of justice, Death, although in sleep more heavy 
Than he can borrow from his natural coldness ; 
On this good sword I'll wear my cause's justice 
Till he do fall its sacrifice. 

Ahr, But be sure 260 

You do't with cunning secrecy ; perhaps, 
Should he have notice of your just intentions, 
He would repair to th' army, from which safeguard 
Our best force could not pluck him without danger 
To the whole Empire. 

Mur, Doubt not but I'll manage » 265 

With a discreet severity my vengeance. 
Invoke Almanzor's equity with sudden 
And private haste. 

Ahr, Meantime 

I will go put a new design in practice 

That may be much conducing to our purpose. • 270 

Like clocks, one wheel another on must drive, 
Afiairs by diligent labour only thrive. Exeunt 

[The Camp, outside the city] 
Enter Selinthus, Gaselles, Osman, and Soldiers 

Set. No quarrelling, good cousins, les[s] it be 
With the glass, 'cause 'tis not of size sufficient 
To give you a magnificent draught. You will 1 ; 
Have fighting work enough when you're i' th' wars ; 
Do not fall out. among yourselves. 

Os. • Not pledge 5 


My peeiless mistress' health ? Soldier, thou'rt mortal. 
If thou refuse it. 

Gas. Come, come, he shall pledge it. 

And 'twere a ton. Why, we're all as dull 
As dormice in our liquor. Here's a health 
To the Prince Abilqualit. 

Soldier, Let go round I lo 

I'd drink't, were it an ocean of warm blood 
Flowing from th' enemy. Pray, good my lord. 
What news is stirring ? 

SeL It should seem, soldier. 

Thou canst not read ; otherwise the leam'd pamphlets 
That fly about the streets, would satisfy 15 

Thy curiosity with news ; they're true ones, 
Full of discreet inteUigence. 

Os, Cousins, shall 's have a song ? Here is a soldier 
In's time hath sung a dirge unto the foe 
Oft in the field. 

Soldier, Captain, I have a new one, 3o 

The ' Soldier's Joy ' 'tis caU'd. 

Sel, That is an harlot ; 

Prithee be musical, and let us taste 
The sweetness of thy voice. A song 

Gas, Whist, give attention I 

Soldier. How does your lordship like it ? 

Sel, Very well. 

And so here's to thee 1 There's no drum beats yet, 25 

And 'tis clear day ; some hour hence 'tvrill be 
Time to break up the watch. Enter Abrahen, Mesithes 

Ha, young Lord Abrahen, 
And trim Mesithes with him I What the devil 
Does he make up so early ? He has been 
A bat-fowling all night after those birds, 30 

Those lady-birds term'd wagtails. What strange business 
Can he have here, trow ? 

Abr, 'Twas well done, Mesithes I 

And trust me, I shall find an apt reward. 
Both for thy care and cunning. Prithee haste 
To Lord Simanthes, and deliver this 35 

Note to him with best diligence, my dear eimuch ; 
Thou'rt half the soul of Abrahen. 

Mes. 1 was bom 

To be intituled your meet humble vassal ; 


I'll haste to the Lord Simaathes. Esfit 

Sel. How he cringes 1 

These youths that want the instruments of manhood 40 

Are very supple in the hams. 

Abr, Gk)od morrow 

To noble Lord Selinthus. What companions 
Have you got here thus early ? 

Sel, Blades of metal. 

Tall men of war, and't please your Grace, of my 
Own blood and family, men who [have] gather'd 45 

A salad on the enemy's ground, and eaten it 
In bold defiance of faim ; 
And not a soldier here bufs an Achilles, 
Valiant as stoutest M3ninidon. 

Abr, And they 

Never had juster cause to show their valour ; 50 

The Prince, my dearest brother, their Lord General's 
Become a forfeit to the stem law's rigour ; 
And 'tis imagin'd our impartial father 
ynJl sentence him to lose his eyes. 

Gas, Marry, Heaven 

Defend 1 For what, and't like your Grace ? 

Abr, For a fact 55 

Which the severe law punishes with loss 
Of nature's precious lights, my tears will scarce 
Permit me utter't, for a rape committed 
On the fair wife of Mura. 

Os, Was it for nothing else, and please your Grace ? 60 

Ere he shall lose an eye for such a trifle. 
Or have a hair dimioish'd, we will lose 
Our heads ; what, hoodwink men like sullen hawks 
For doing deeds of nature I I'm asham'd 
The law is such an ass. 

Sel. Some eunuch judge, 65 

That could not be acquainted with the sweets 
Due to concupiscential parts, invented 
This law, I'll be hang'd else 1 'Slife, a prince, 
And such a hopeful one, to lose his eyes, 
For satisfying the hunger of the stomach 70 

Beneath tiie waist, is cruelty prodigious. 
Not to be sufEer'd in a commonwealth 
Of ought but geldings. 

Abr, 'Tis vain to soothe 


Our hopes with these delusicHis ; he will suffer. 

Less he be rescued. I would have you, therefore, 75 

II you owe any service to ihe Prince, 

My much lamented brother, to attend 

Without least tumult 'bout the Court, and if 

There be necessity of your aid, I'll give you 

Notice when to employ it. 

Sel, Sweet Prince, we'll swim 80 

In blood to do thee or thy brother service : 
Each man provide their weapons. 

Abr. You will win 

My brother's love for ever ; nay, my father, 
Though he'll seem angry to behold his justice 
Deluded, afterwards when his rage is past, S5 

Will thank you for your loyalties. Pray be there 
With all speed possible ; by this my brother's 
Commandoi 'fore my father. I'll go learn 
The truth, and give you notice; pray be secret 
And firm to your resolves. Exit 

Sel, For him that flinches 90 

In such a cause^ I'll have no more mercy on him. 

Enter Tarifa and Mura 

Here's Tarifa, 

The Prince's sometimes tutor, Mura with him, 

A-walking towards the Court ; let's take no notice 

Of them, lest they discover our intentions 95 

By our grim looks. March fair and softly, cousins, 

We'll be at Court before them. 

[Exeunt Selinthus, Gaselles, Odman and Sc^diers] 
Tar, You will not do this, Mura I 
Mur. How, Tarifa ? 

Will you defend him in an act so impious ? 

Is't fit the drum should cease his suiiy language 100 

When the bold soldier marches, or that I 

Should pass o'er this affront in quiet silence. 

Which gods and men invoke to speedy vengeance ? 

Which I will have, or manhood shall be tame 

As cowardice. 

Tar. It was a deed so barbarous, 105 

That truth itself blushes as well as justice 

To hear it mention'd : but consider, Mura, 

He is our Prince, the Empire's hope, and pillar 


Of great Almanzor's age. How far a public 

Regard should be preferr'd before your private no 

Desire of vengeance ! which if you do purchase 

From our impartial Emperor's equity, 

His loss of sight, and so of the succession. 

Will not restore Caropia to the honour 

He ravish'd from her. But so foul the cause is, 115 

I rather should lament the Prince's folly 

Than plead in his behalf. 

Mur. 'Tis but vain ; 

There is your warrant, as you are High Marshal, 
To summon him to make his speedy appearance 
'Fore the tribunal of Almanzor ; so pray 120 

You execute your office. Exit 

Tar. How one vice 

Can like a small cloud when 't breaks forth in showers. 
Black the whole heaven of virtues I 

Enter Abilqualit [with] Mutes, whispering, seem to make 
protestoHtms, Exeunt [Mutes] 

O my lord, 
That face of yours which once with angel brightness 
Cheer'd my faint sight, like a grim apparition 125 

Frights it with ghastly terror : you have done 
A deed that startles virtue till it shakes 
As it got a palsy. I'm commanded 
To summon you before your father, and 
Hope you'll obey his mandate. 

Abil Willingly! 130 

What's my offence, Tarifa ? 

Tar, Would you knew not I 

I did presage your too unruly passions 
Would hurry you to some disastrous act. 
But ne'er imagin'd you'd have been so lost 
To masculine honour to commit a rape 135 

On that unhappy object of your love, 
Whom now y'ave made the spoil of your foul lust. 
The much wrong'd wife of Mura. 

Ahil, Why, does Mura 

Charge me with his Caropia's rape ? 

Tar, This warrant* 

Sent by your angry father, testifies 14O 

He means to appeach you of it. • 


Abil. [aside] "Us my forttme. 

All natural motions when they approach tiieir end. 
Haste to draw to't with [un]acci]stom'd swiftness. 
Rivers with greedier speed run near their out-falls 
Than at their springs. But I'm resolv'd, let what 145 

Happen that will, I'll stand it, and defend 
Caropia's honour, though mine own t ruin ; 
Who dares not die to justify liis love. 
Deserves not to enjoy her. Come, Taiifa, 
Whatever befall, I'm resolute. He dies 150 

Glorious, that falls Love's innocent sacrifice. Exeunt 


[A Room in the Couri] 

Enter Almanzor, Abilqualit, Tarifa, and Mura 

Aim, No more, Tarifa ; you'll provoke our anger 
If you appear in this cause so solicitous ; 
The act is too apparent : nor shall you 
Need, injur'd Mura, to implore our justice. 
Which with impartial doom shall fall on him S 

More rigorously than on a strange offender. 
O Abilqualit, (for the name of son. 
When thou forsook'st thy native virtue, left thee ;) 
Were all thy blood, thy youth and fortune's glories 
Of no more value than to be expos'd 10 

To ruin for one vice; at whose name only 
The Furies start, and bashful-fronted Justice 
Hides her amaz'd head ? But it is now bootiess 
To show a father's pity in my grief 

For thy amiss. As I'm to be thy judge, 15 

Be resolute I'll take as little notice 
Thou art my ofispring, as the wandering clouds 
Do of the showers, which when they've bred to ripeness, 
They straight disperse through the vast earth forgotten. 

Abil, I'm sorry, sir, that my unhappy chance 20 

Should draw your anger on me; my long silence 
Declares I have on that excelling sweetness. 
That unexampled pattern of chaste goodness, 
Caropia, acted violence. I confess 


I lov'd the lady, and when no persuasions ^5 

Serv'd to prev^ on her too stubborn, incens'd. 

By force I sought my purpose and obtained it ;. 

Nor do I yet (so much I pruce the sweetness 

Of that unvalued purchase) find repentance 

In any abject thought ; whate'er falls on> me 30 

Prom your stem rigonr in a cause so precious, 

WUl be a pleasing punishment. 

Aim, You are grown 

A glorious malefactor, that dare biave thus 
The awful rod of justice f Loat young man» 
For thou'rt no child of mine» dost not oosisider 35 

To what a state of desperate' destruction 
Thy wild lust haa betray'd tiiee ? What rich blessin^B 
(That I may make thee sensible of thy flin» 
By showing thee thy sufEering) hast thon lost 
By thy irregular foitty ! First my love, 40 

Which never more most meet thee, scarce in pity ; 
The glory flowing from, thy .tettner actiocis 
Stopp'd up for ever ; sold' those lustful eyes 
(By whose deprival thou'rt deprived of being 
Capable of this Empire) to the law, 45 

Which will exact them, forfeited. Call in there 
A surgeon and our Mutes to execute this act 

Enter Surgeon, Itfutes -; •'; ,! 

Of justice on the unworthy traitor, upon whom 

My just wak'd wrath sludl have no more compassion 

Than the incens'd flames have on perishing wretches 50 

That wilfully leap into tham. 

Tar. O my Lord, 

That which on others would be fitting justice. 
On him your hopeful, though oflending, son. 
Will be exemplar cruelty ; his youth, sir, 
That hath abounded with so many virtues, 55 

Is an excuse sufficient for one vice : 
He is not yours only, he's your. Empire's, 
Destin'd by nature and succession's privilege,. 
When you in peace are shrouded in your marble. 
To widd this sceptre after you. O do not, 60 

By putting out his eyes deprive your subjects 
Of light, and leave them to dull mournful darkness. 

Aim, 'Tis but in vaixi^ I am* inexorable.. 

C.D.W. L L 


If those on which his eyes hang were my heart-strings, 

I'd cut them out rather than wound my justice : 65 

Nor does't befit thy virtue intercede 

For him in this cause horrid and prodigious : 

The crime 'gainst me was acted ; 'twas a rape 

Upon my honour more than on her whiteness ; 

His was from mine derivative, as each stream 70 

Is from its spring ; so that he has polluted 

By his foul fact, my fame, my truth, my goodness ; 

Strucken through my dignity by his violence ; 

Nay, started in their peaceful urns the ashes 

Of all my glorious ancestors ; defil'd 75 

The memory of their still descendent virtues ; 

Nay with a killing frost nipp'd the fair blossoms 

That did presage such goodly fruit arising 

From his own hopeful youth. 

Mur, I ask but justice ; 

Those eyes that led him to unlawful objects, 80 

'Tis fit should sufiEer for't a lasting blindness; 
The Sun himself, when he darts rays lascivious. 
Such as engender by too piercing fervenoe 
Intemperate and infectious heats, straight wears 
Obscurity from the clouds his own beams raises. 85 

I have been your soldier, sir, and fought your battles ; 
For all my services I beg but justice, 
Which is the subject's best prerogative. 
The prince's greatest attribute ; and for a fact. 
Than which none can be held more black and hideous, 90 

Which has betray'd to an eclipse the brightest 
Star in th' heaven of virtues : the just law 
Does for't ordain a punishment, which I hope 
You, the law's righteous guider, win according '' 
To equity see executed. 

Tar. Why, that law 95 

Was only made for common malefactors, 
But has no force to extend unto the Prince, 
To whom the law itself must become subject. 
This hopeful Prince, look on him, great Almanzor; 
And in his eyes (those volumes of all graces, 100 

Which you like erring meteors would extinguish) 
Read your own lively figure, the best story 
Of your youth's noblest vigour ; let not wrath, sir, ^ . 

Overcome your piety, nay, jrour human pity. 


'T!s in yoor breast, my lord, yet to show mercy, 105 

That precious attribute of heaven's true goodness, 

Even to yourself, your son 1 Methinks that name 

Should have a power to interdict your justice , , 

In its too rigorous progress. 1 

Abil. Dear Tarifa, 

I'm more afflicted at th[y] intercessions no 

Than at the view of my approaching torments. 
Which I will meet with fortitude and boldness ; 
Twere base to shake now at one personal danger. 
When I've encounter'd thousand perils fearless ; 
Nor do I blame my gracious father's justice, 115 

Though it precede his nature. I'd not have him 
(For my sake) forfeit that for which he's famous. 
His uncormpted equity; nor repine ' : ^ ; • 

I at my destiny ; my eyes have had , . . 

Delights sufficient in Cauropia's beauties, ; 120 

To serve my thoughts for after contemplations ; 
Nor can I ever covet a new object. 
Since they can ne'er hope to encounter any 
Of equal worth and sweetness. 

[Aside to Tarifa] Yet hark, Tarifa, to thy secrecy 125 

I will impart my dearest, inmost counsels : 
If I should perish, as 'tis probable > 

I may, under the hands of these tonnentors. 
Thou mayst unto succession show my innocence ; 
Caropia 3delded without least constraint, 130 

And I enjoy'd her freely. 

Tar, How, my lord ! 

Abil, No words on't, 
As you respect my honour 1 I'd not lose 
The glory I shall gain by these my sufierings ; 
Come, grim furies, 135 

And execute your office ; I will stand you, 
Unmov'd as IhUs at whirlwinds, and amidst 
The torments you inflict retain my courage. 

Aim, Be speedy, villains I 

[The Mutes seize Abilqualit] 

Tar. O stay your cruel hands. 

You dumb ministers of injur'd justice, 140 

And let me speak his innocence ere you further 
Afflict his precious eye-sight. 

Aim, What does this mean, Tarifa ? 


Tar. O my lord, 

The too much bravery of the Prince's spirit 
'Tis has undone his fame, and pull'd upon him 145 

This fatal punishment ; 'twas but to save 
The lady's honour that he has assum'd 
Her rape upon him. when with her consent 
The de^ of shame wa« acted. 

Muf. 'Tis his feai3 

Makes him traduce her innocence ; he who did not 150 

Stick to commit a riot on her person, 
Can make no conscience to destroy her &me 
By his untrue suggestions. 

Aim, Tis a baseness 

Beyond thy other villany (had she yielded) 
Thus to betray, for transitory torture, 155 

Her honour, which thou wert engag'd to safeguard 
Even with thy life. A son of mine could never 
Show this ignoble cowardice : proceed 
To execution, I'll not hear him speak ; 
He is made up of treacheries and falsehoods. 160 

Taf, Will you then 
Be to the Prince so tyrannous ? Why, to me 
Just now he did confess his only motive 
To undergo this torment was to save 
Caropia's honour blameless. 

Ahil, I am more 165 

Troubled, sir, with his untimely frenzy 
Than with my punishment ; his too much love 
To me has spoil'd his temperate reason. I 
Confess Caropia jdelded I Not the light 

Is half so innocent as her spotless virtue. 170 

{Aside to Tarifa] 'Twas not well done, Tarifii, to betray 
The secret of your friend thus ; though she 3ridded, 
The terror of ten thousand deaths shall never 
Force me to confess it. 

Tar. Again, my lord, even now 

He does confess she jdelded, and protests 175 

That death shall never make him say she's guilty : 
The breath scarce passM his lips yet. 

Ahil. Hapless man; 

To run into this lunacy 1 [Aside to Tarifa] Fie, Tarifa< 
So treacherous to your friend 1 

Tar, AgBatL, agaiar 


Will no man >give .me credit ? 180 

Enter Abrahen 

Abr, Where is our royal father ? Where our brother ? 
As you respect your life and Empire's safety, 
Dismiss these tyrannous instruments of death 
And cruelty unexempMed. O brother, 

That I should ever live to enjoy my eyesight, 185 

And see one half of your dear lights endangered. 
My lord, you've done an act which my just fears 
Tells me will shake your sceptre 1 O for heaven's sake. 
Look to your future safety ; the rough soldier 
Hearing their much-lov'd General, my good brother, 190 

Was by the law betray'd to some sad danger, 
Have in their piety beset the palace. 
Think on some means to appease them, ere their fury 
Grow to its fuU unbridled height; they threaten 
Your life, great sir : pray send my brother to them ; 195 

His sight can only pacify them. 

Aim. [To Abilqualit] Have you your champions ? 

We will prevent their insolence ; you shedl not 
Boast you have .got the Empire by our ruin : 
Mutes, strangle him immediately! 

Abr. .Avert 

Such a prodigious mischief, heaven 1 Hark, hark I 200 

ICries without] Enter, Enter. 
lAbrJ] They're enter'd into th' Court; [to the Mutes] desist, 

you monsters 1 
My life shall stand betwisct his and this violence. 
Or I with him will perish. [Calling to those withouf}. 

Faithful soldiers, 
Haste to defend your Prince, curse on your slowness 1 

[AbilquaUt falls.] 
[Aside] He's dead ; my father's turn is next. — O horror, 205 
Would I might sink into f orgetf ulness 1 
What has your fury urg'd you to ? 

Aim. To that 

Which whoso murmurs at, is a faithless traitor 
To om tranquillity. [Enter Simanthes]. Now, sir, your 
business ? 

Stiff. My lord, the city 210 

Is up in arms in rescue of the Prince ; 
The whole Court throngs with soldiers. 


Aim. 'Twas high time 

To cut this viper ofi, that would have eat his passage 
Through our very bowels to our Empire. 

Nay, we will stand their furies, and with terror 215 

Of majesty strike dead these insurrections. 

Enter [Osman and] Soldiers 

Traitors, what means this violence ? 

Abr, O, dear soldiers. 

Your honest love's in vain ; my brother's dead. 
Strangled by great Almanzor's dire command 
Ere your arrival. [Aside] I do hope they'll kill him 220 
In their hot zeal. 

Aim. Why do you stare so, traitors ? 

'Twas I, your Emp'ror, that have done this act. 
Which who repines at, treads the self-same steps 
Of death that he has done. Withdraw and leave us, 
We'd be alone. No motion ? Are you statues ? 225 

Stay you, Tarifa, here. For your part, Mura, 
You cannot now complain but you have justice ; 
So quit our presence. 
Os. Faces about, gentlemen I 

Exeunt [Osman and Soldiers] 
Abr. [aside to Simanthes] It has happen'd 
Above our wishes, we shall have no need now 230 

To employ your handkercher. Yet give it me. 
You're sure 'tis right, Simanthes ? 

[Drops the handkerchief on Abilqualit's body 
and exit with Mutes, Simanthes, and Mura] 
Aim. Tarifa, 

I know the love thou bear'st Prince Abilqualit 
Makes thy big heart swell as 't had drunk the foam 
Of angry dragons. Speak thy free intentions ; 235 

Deserv'd he not this fate ? 

Tof. No ; you're a tyrant. 

One that delights to feed on your own bowels. 
And were not worthy of a son so virtuous. [Kneeiing] 
Now you have ta'en his, add to your injustice 
And take Tarifa's life, who in his death, 240 

Should it come flying on the wings of torments. 
Would speak it out as an apparent truth 
The Prince to me declar'd his innocence. 
And that Caropia jdelded. 


Aim. Rise, Tarifa ; 

We do command thee rise. A sadden chiUness, 245 

Such as the hand of winter casts on brooks. 
Thrills our ag'd heart. I'll not have thee engross 
Sorrow alone for Abilqnalit's death ; 
I lov'd the boy well, and though his ambition 
And popularity did make him dangerous, 250 

I do repent my fury, and will vie 
With thee in sorrow. How he makes death lovely ! 
Shall we fix here, and weep till we be statues ? 

Tar, Till we grow stiff as the cold alabasters 
Must be erected over us. Your rashness 255 

Has robb'd the Empire ol the greatest hope 
It ere shall boast again. Would I were ashes I 

Aim. He breathes, methinks ; the over-hasty soul 
Was too discourteous to forsake so fair 

A lodging, without taking solemn leave 260 

First of the owner. Ha, his handkercher 1 
Thou'rt lib'ral to thy father even in death, 
Leav'st him a legacy to dry his tears. 
Which are too slow ; they should create a deluge. 

my dear Abilqualit 1 [Falling on the body] 265 
Tar. You exceed now 

As much in grief as you did then in rage : 
One drop of this pious paternal softness 
Had ransom'd him from ruin. Dear sir, rise; 
My griefs divided, and I know not whether 

1 should lament you living, or him dead. 270 
Good sir, erect your looks^ Not stir ? His sorrow 

Makes him insensible. Ha, there's no motion 

Left in his vital spirits ; the excess 

Of grief has stifled up his pow'rs, and crack'd, 

I tear, his ag'd heart's cordage. Help, the Emperor, 275 

The Emperor's dead I Help, help 1 

[Enter] Abrahen, Simanthes, Mesithes, Mutes 

Abr. What dismal ooicry's this ? 

Our royal father dead 1 
[Aside] The handkercher has wrought, I see. 

Tar. Yes, his big heart 

Vanquish'd with sorrow, that in's violent rage 
He doom'd his much4ov'd son to timeless death, 280 

Could not endure longer on its weak strings. 


Bat crack'd with weight of sonow. Their two spirits 
By this are met in their ddightful passage 
To the blest shades ; <we in oar teais aze boQud 
To call yon oar diead Sovereign. 

Omnes. Jjoog live Abraben. 2S5 

Great Caliph of Arabia! 

Abr, 'Tis a title 

We cannot covet, lords ; it comes attended 
With so great cares and troubles that our youth 
Starts at the thou^it of them, even in our sorrows 
Which are so mighty on us ; onr weak spirits 290 

Are ready to relinquish the possession 
They've of mortality, and taJce swift flight 
After our royal friinids. Simancthes^ be it 
Your charge to see all fitting .piepaiakton 
Provided for the funerals. 295 

Enter Selinthus 

Sel. Where's great Almanzor ? 

Abr, O, Selinthas, this 

Day is the hour of funeral's grief ; for his 
Cruelty to my brother has translated him 
To immortality. 

Sel, He'll have attendants 

To wait on him to our great Prophet's paradise, 500 

Ere he be ready for his grave. The soldiers. 
All mad with rage for the Prince's slaughter, 
Have vow'd by all oaths soldiers can invent 
(And that's no small store) with desitkk and destruction 
To pursue sullen Mora. 

Abr. TrntifA, 305 

Use your authority to keep their violence 
In due obedience. We're so fraught with grief. 
We have no room for any other passion 
In our distracted bosom. Take these ro3ral bodies 
And place them on that couch ; here where 1±tey fell, 310 

They shall be embalmM. Yet put them out of our sight. 
Their views draw fresh drops from our lieait. Anon 
We'll show ourselves to cheer the a£9ioted cubjcct. 

A shout 

Omnes. Long live Abrahen, great Caliph of Arabia ! 

Exeunt \aU but Abrahen] 

Abr, And who can say now Abrahen is a villain ? 315 


I am saluted King with acclamations 
That deaf the heavens to hear, with as muoh joy 
Ab if I had achiev'd this sceptre by 
Means fair and virtuous. 'Twas this handkercher 
That did to death Almanzor, so infected 320 

Its least, insensible, vapour has full power. 
Applied to th' eye or any other organ 
Can drink its poison in, to vanquish nature, 
Though ne'er so strong and youthful. 'Twas Simanthes 
Devis'd it for my brother, and my cunning 325 

Transferred it to Almanzor; 'tis no matter. 
My worst impiety is held now religious. 
'Twixt kings and their inferiors there's this odds. 
These are mere men ; we men, yet earthly gods. Exii 

AM. ^sing], 'Twas well the Mutes prov'd faithful, 
otherwise 330 

I'd lost my breath with as much speed and silence 
As those who do expire in dreams, their healtii 
Seeming no whit abated. But 'twas wisely 
Consider'd of me, to prepare those sure 

Instruments of destruction : the suspicion 335 

I had by Abrahen of my father's fears 
Of my unthought ambition, did instruct me 
By making them mine to secure my safety. 
Would the inhuman surgeon had ta'en these 
Blessed lights from me ; that I had Hv'd for ever 340 

Doom'd to perpetual darkness, rather than 
Tarifa's feazB had so appeach'd her honour. 
Well, villain brother, I have found that, by 
My seeming death, which by my life's best arts 
I ne'er should have had knowledge of. Dear father, 345 

Though thou to me wcrt pitiless, my heart 
Weeps tears of blood, to see thy age ^us like 
A lofty pine fall, eaten through by th' gin. 
From its own stock descending. He has agents 
In his ungradons wickedness; Simanthes 350 

He has discover'd. Were they multitudes 
As numerous as collected sands, and mighty 
In force as mischief, they should from my justice 
Meet their due punishment. Abrahen by this 
Is proclaim'd Caliph, yet my undoubted right 555 

When't shall appear I'm living, will reduce 
The people to my part; the army's mine. 


Whither I must withdraw tmseen ; the night 

Will best secure me. What a strange chimera 

Of thought possesses my dull brain ! Caropia, 360 

Thou hast a share in them ; Fate, to thy mercy 

I do commit m3rself ; who scapes the snare 

Once, has a certain caution to beware. Exit 


[A Room in the House of Mura] 
Enter Caropia and Perilinda 

Car. Your lord is not retum'd yet ? 

Per. No, good madam. 

Pray do not thus torment yourself, the Prince 
(I warrant you) will have no injury 
By saving of your honour ; do you think 
His father will be so extreme outrageous 5 

For such a trifle as to force a woman 
With her good liking ? 

Car. My ill-boding soul 

Beats with presages ominous. Would heaven 
I'd stood the hazard of my incens'd lord's fury 
Rather than he had run this inumnent danger. 10 

Could you ne'er learn, which of the slaves it was 
Betray'd our close loves to loath'd Mura's notice ? 

Per, No, indeed could I not ; but here's my lord ; 
Pray, madam, do not grieve so I 

Enter Mura {exit Perilinda] 

Mur, My Caropia, 

Dress up thy looks in their aocnstom'd beauties ; is 

Call bade the constant spring into thy cheeks, 
That droop like lovely violets o'ercharg'd 
With too much morning's dew ; shoot from thy eyes 
A thousand flames of joy. The lustful Prince, 
That like a foid thief robb'd thee of thy honour 20 

By his ungracious violence, has met 
EQs ro3ral father's justice. 

Car, Now my fears 

Carry too sure an augury 1 You would fain 
Sootiie me, my lord, out of my flood of sorrows ; 


What reparation can that make my honour, 25 

Though he have tasted punishment ? 

Muf. His life 

Is fall'n the [off'ring] of thy chastity. 
Which his hot lust polluted : nay, Caropia, 
To save himself when he but felt the torment 
Applied to his lascivious eyes, although 30 

At first he did with impudence acknowledge 
Thy rape, he did invade thy spotless virtue ; 
Protested only 'twas to save thy honour 
He took on him thy rape, when with consent 
And not constrained, thou yielded'st to the looseness 33 

Of his wild, vicious flames. 

Car, Could he be so 

Unjust, my lord ? 

Mut, He was, and he has paid for't : 

The malicious soldier, while he was a-losing 
His eyes, made violent head to bring him rescue. 
Which pull'd his ruin on him. But no more 40 

Of such a prodigy ; may his black memory 
Perish even with his ashes ! My Caropia, 
The flourishing trees, widow'd by winter's violence 
Of their fair ornaments, when 'tis expir'd once. 
Put forth again with new and virgin freshness, 45 

Their bushy beauties ; it should be thy emblem. 
Display again those chaste, immaculate glories, 
Which the harsh winter of his lust had wither'd ; 
And I'll again be wedded to thy virtues, 
With as much joy, as when thou first enrich'd me 50 

With their pure maiden beauties. Thou art duU, 
And dost not gratulate with happy welcomes 
The triumphs of thy vengeance. 

Cat, Are you sure, my lord. 

The Prince is dead ? 

Mut, Pish, I beheld him breathless! 

Take comfort, best Caropia, thy disgrace 55 

Did with his loath'd breath v^iish. 

Car, I could wish though. 

That he had fall'n by your particular vengeance. 
Rather than by th' law's rigour : you're a soldier 
Of glory, great in war for brave perfonnance ; 
Methinks 't had been far nobler had you call'd him 60 

To personal satisfaction : had I been 


Your husband, you my wife, and laviah'd by him. 

My resolution would have arm'd my courage 

To 've stroke him thus. The dead Prince sends you that I 

Stabs him 

Mur. O, I am slain I 

Car, Would it were possible 65 

To kill even thy eternity 1 Sweet Prince, 
How shall I satisfy thy unhappy ruins ! 
Ha, not yet breathless P To increase thy anguish 
Even to despair, know Abilqualit was 

More dear to me than thy foul self was odious, 70 

And did enjoy me freely. 

Mur, That I had 

But breath enough to blast thee. 

Car. 'Twas his brother 

(Curse on his art 1) seduc'd me to accuse 
Him of my rape. Do you groan, prodigy ? 
Take this as my last bounty. Stabs again 

Enter Perilinda 

Per. O madam, madam, 75 

What shall we do ? the house is round beset 
With soldiers ; madam, they do swear they'll tear 
My lord, for the sweet Prince's death, in pieces. 

Car, This hand has sav'd 
Their fury that just labour : yet I'll make 80 

Use of their malice. Help to convey him 
Into's chamber. [They put Mura's body behind the arras] 

Enter Osman, Gaselles, SoldieiB 

Gas, Where is this villain, this traitor Mura ? 

Car. Heaven knows what violence 
Their fury may assault me with ; be't death, 
'T shall be as welcome as sound healthful sleeps 85 

To men oppress'd with sickness. What's the matter ? 
What means this outrage ? 

Os. Marry, lady gay, 

We're come to cut your little throat ; pox on you. 
And all your sex; you've caus'd the noble Prince's 
Death ; wildfire take you for't 1 We'll talk with you 90 

At better leisure : you junst needs 'be ravished 
And could not, like an honest woman, take 
The courtesy in friendly sort I 


Gas. We trifle : 

Her husband may escape us. Say, where is he ? 
Or you shall die, ere you can pray. 

Soldiers, [discovering Mura's body] Here, here! 95 

I have found the villain ! What, do you sleep so soundly ? 
Ne'er wake more. This for the Prince, you rogue ! 
Lef s tear him piecemeal 1 Do you take your death 
In silence, dog 1 

Car. You appear endow'd with some humanity ; 100 

You have ta'en his life ; let not your hate last after death : 
Let me embalm his body with my tears. 
Or kill me with him. 

Os. Now you've said the word; 

We care not if we do. [S&ixing Caropia] 

Enter Tarifa^ 

Tar. Slaves, unhand 

The lady ; who dares o£Fer her least violence; 105 

From this hand meets his punishment. Gaselles, 
Osman, I thought you had been better tempered 
Than thus to raise up mutinies. In the name 
Of Abrahen, our now Caliph, I command you 
Desist from these rebellious practices, no 

And quietly retire into the camp. 
And there expect his pleasure. 

Gas. Abrahen Caliph I 

There is some hopes, then, we shall gain our pardons. 
Long live great Abrahen 1 Soldiers, slink away ; 
Our vow is consummate. 

Car. [Throws hsrself on the body] O my dear Lord ! 115 

Tar. Be gonet 

Os. Yes, as quietly 

As if we were in flight before the foe ; 
The general pardon at Iflie coronatiQii 
Will bring us off, Fm sure. 

Tar. Alas, good madam 1 

I'm sorry that these miseries have faU'n 120 

With so much rigour on you ; pray take comfort : 
Your husband prosecuted with too much violence 
Prince Abilqualit's ruin. 

Car. It appealed so 1 

What worlds of woe have hapless £ giutti' life to. 
And yet survive 


Tar. Do not with such fury 125 

Torment your innocent self. I'm sure the Emperor 
Abrahen will number 't 'mongst his greatest sorrows 
That he has lost your husband. I must give him 
Notice of these proceedings. Best peace keep you. 
And settle your distractions. \Exii Tarifa] 

Car. Not until 130 

I'm settled in my peaceful urn. This is yet 
Some comfort to me» 'midst the floods of woes. 
That do overwhelm me for the Prince's death. 
That I reveng'd it safely ; though I prize 
My life at no more value than a foolish 135 

Ignorant Indian does a diamond. 
Which for a bead of jet or glass he changes : 
Nor would I keep it, were it not with fuller. 
More noble bravery, to take revenge 

For my Lord Abilqualit's timeless slaughter. 140 

I must use craft and mystery. Dissembling 
Is held the natural quality of our sex, 
Nor will't be hard to practise. This same Abrahen, 
That by his brother's ruin wields the sceptre. 
Whether out of his innocence or malice, 145 

'Twas that persuaded me to accuse him of 
My rape. The die is cast, I am resolv'd : 
To thee, my Abilqualit, I will come ; 
A death for love's no death, but majiyrdom. - Exit 

[TA^ Camp, (mtside the city] 

Enter Abilqualit, Selinthus, Gaselles, Osman, Soldiers, and Mutes 

AM, No more, good faithful soldiers : thank the powers 
Divine, has brought me back to you in safety. 
The traitorous practices against our life, 
And our dear father's, poison'd by our brother. 
We have discover'd, and shall take just vengeance 5 

On the unnatural parricide. Retire 
Into your tents, and peacefully expect 
The event of things ; you, Osman and Gaselles, 
Shall into th' dty with me* ' 

0$. We will maish 


Through the world with thee, dear Sovereign, 10 

Great Abilqualit. 

Abil. Selinthus, 

Give you our dear Tarifa speedy notice 
We are agam among the living ; pray him 
To let our loyal subjects in the city 

Have sure intelligence of our escape ; 15 

And, dearest friends and fellows, let not your 
Too loud expressions of your joy for our 
Unlook'd-for welfare subject to discovery 
Our unexpected safety. 

Sel, Never fear : 

They're trusty Myrmidons, and will stick close 20 

To you, their dear Achillea ; but, my lord. 
The wisest may imagine it were safer 
For you to rest here 'mong your armed legions 
Than to intrust your person in the city. 

Where, as it seems by the past story, you'll 25 

Not know friends from enemies. 

Abil, Selinthus, 

Thy honest care declares the zealous duty 
Thou ow'st thy Sovereign : but what danger can 
Assault us there, where there is none suspects 
We are alive ? We'll go survey the state 30 

Of things ; i' th' morning we will seize the palace, 
And then proclaim our right. Come, valiant captains. 
You shall be our companions. 

Gas, And we'll guard you 

Safe, as you were encompass'd with an army. 

Sel, You guard your own fools' heads 1 Is't fit his safety, 35 
On which our lives and fortunes have dependence. 
Should be expos'd unto your single valour ? [To Abilqualit] 
Pray once let your friends rule you, that you may 
Rule them hereafter. Your good brother Abrahen 
Has a strong faction, it should seem, 1' th' Court : 40 

And though these bloodhounds foUow'd the scent hotly 
Till they had worried Mura, he has other 
Allies of no mean consequence, your eunuch, 
Mesithes, his chief favourite, and Simanthes. 

Abil, It was tiiat villain that betray'd my love 45 

To him and slaughter'd Mura. 

Sel, Very likely. 

An arranter, falser parasite never was 


Cut like a colt. Pray, sir, be wise this once 

At my entreaties ; and for ever after 

Use your discretion as you please : these night-works 50 

I do not like ; yet ere the morning I 

Will bring Tanfa to you. 

AbiL You shall o'errule us. Poor Caropia, these 
Thoughts are thy vot'ries ; Love, thy active fire, 
Flames out when present, absent in desire. Exmnt 55 


[A Room in the Couri] 
Enter Abrahen and Simanthes 

Ahr, What state and dignitjr's like that of soeptns ? 
With what an awful majesty resembles it 
The powers above ? The ii^bitairts of that 
Superior world are not more subject 

To them than these to us ; they can* but txcmbk 5 

When they do speak in thunder; at our frowns 
These shake like lambs at lightning. Can it be 
Impiety by any means to purchase 
This earthly deity. Sovereignty ? I did* sieep 
This night with as secure and calm a> peace 10 

As in my former innocence. Conscience, 
Thou'rt but a terror, fiiBt devis'd by th' fears 
Of cowardice, a sad and fond remembrance. 
Which men should shun, as elephants clear springs. 
Lest they behold their own deformities, 15 

And start at their grim shadows. 

Entef Mesithes 

Ha» Mesithes I 

Mes, JSLy royal lord I 

Ahr. Call me ttij friend, Mesithes.; 

Thou equally dost share our heart, best eunuch. 
There is not in the stock of earthly blessings 
Another I could wish to make my state 20 

Completely fortunate, but one ; and to 
Achieve possession of that bliss, thy diligence 
Must be the fortunate instrument. 

Mes, Be it dangovovs 

As the afitrights seamen do feign, in tempests, 
I'll undertake it for my gracious Sovereign, 25 

And perish, but effect it. 


Abr. No, there is 

Not the least show of peril in't ; 'tis the want 
Of fair Caropia's long-coveted beauties, 
That doth afOict thy Abrahen. Love. Mesitiies, 
Is a most stubborn malady, not cor'd 36 

With that felicity i&at are other pasaioiis, 
And creeps upon us by those acmbushes 
That we perceive ourselvtes sooner in loiw 
Than we can think upoti tlie way of loving. 
The old flames break more brighrtly from tt* atbes 35 

Where they have long lain hid, ttke the young ph^senix 
That from her spicy pile revives more glorious. 
Nor can I now extinguisht; it has pass'd 
The limits of my reason, and intend[s3 

My will, where like a fix'd star 't settles, 40 

Never to be removed thence. 

Mes, Cease your fears ; 

I that could win her for your brother, who 
Could not boast half your masculine perfections. 
For you will vanquish her. 

Enter Simanthes 

Sim. My lord, the widow 

Of slaughtered Mura, fair Caropia, does 4$ 

Humbly entreat access to your dread presence ; 
Shall we permit her entrance ? 

Abr, Wth all freedom 

And best regard! Mesithes, this arrives 
Beyond our wish, m try my eloquence 
In my own cause ; and if I fail, thou then 50 

Shalt be my advocate. 

Mes, Your humblest vassal ! 

Abr, Withdraw and leave us. 
And give strict order none approach our presence 
Till we do call. It is not fit her sorrows 
Should be surveyed by common eye. 

Enter Caropia. 55 

Caropia, welcome ; 
And would we cotdd as easily give thee comfort 
As we allow thee more than moderate pity. 
In tears those eyes caist forth a greater lustre 
Than sparkling rocks of diamonds enclos'd 
In swelling seas of pearl. 

C.D.W. M M 


Cor. Your Majesty 60 

Is pleased to wanton with my miseries. 
Which truly you, if you have nature in you. 
Ought to bear equal part in : your dear brother's 
Untimely loss, occasion'd by my falsehood 
And your improvident counsel, 'tis that calls 65 

These hearty sorrows up ; I am his murd'ress. 

Ahr, 'Twas his own destiny, not oor bad intentioQS 
Took him away from earth ; he was too heavenly. 
Fit only for th' society of angels, 

'Mongst whom he sings glad hymns to thy perfections, 70 

Celebrating with such eloquence thy beauties 
That those immortal essences forget 
To love each other by intelligence, 
And dote on the idea of thy sweetness. 

Car. [fKide] These gentle blandishments, and his innocent 75 
Had I as much of malice as a tigress 
Robb'd of her young, would melt me into meekness ; 
But I'll not be a woman. 

Abr, Sing out, angel. 

And charm the world, were it at mortal difference. 
To peace with thine enchantments. What soft murmurs 80 
Are those that steal through those pure rosy organs. 
Like aromatic west-winds, when they fly 
Through fruitful mists of fragrant morning's dew. 
To get the Spring with child of flowers and spices ? 
Disperse these clouds that like the veil of night 85 

With unbecoming darkness shade thy beauties ; 
And strike a new day from those orient eyes. 
To gild the world with brightness. 

Car, Sir, these flatteries 

Neither befit the ears of my true sorrows. 
Nor yet the utt'rance of that real sadness 90 

Should dwell in you. Are these the fun'ral rites 
You pay the memory of your royal father. 
And much lamented brother ? 

Ahr. They were mortal ; 

And to lament them, were to show I envied 
Th' immortal jo3rs of that true happiness 95 

Their glorious souls (disfranchis'd from their flesh) 
Possess to perpetuity and fulness. 
Besides, Caropia, I have other griefs 


More near my heart, that drcle't with a sickness 

Will shortly number me among their fellowship, 100 

If speedier remedy be not applied 

To my most desp'rate malady. 

Car, [aside] I shall 

(If my hand fail not my determined courage) 
Send you to their society far sooner 

Than you expect or covet. — ^Why, great sir, 105 

What grief, unless your sorrow for their loss, 
Is't can afflict you, that command all blessings 
Men witty in ambition of excess 
Can wish to please their fancies ? 

Abr. The want only 

Of that which I've so long desir'd, thy love; no 

Thy love, Caropia, without which my Empire, 
And all the pleasures flowing from its greatness, 
Will be but burdens, soul-tormenting troubles. 
There's not a beam shot from those ghef-drown'd comets 
But (like the sun's, when they break forth of showers) 115 
Dart flames more hot and piercing. Had I never 
Doted before on thy divine perfections. 
Viewing thy beauty thus adom'd by sadness, 
My heart, though marble, actuated to softness, 
Would bum like sacred incense, itself being 120 

The altar, priest, and sacrifice. 

Car, This is 

As unexpected as unwelcome, sir. 
Howe'er you're pleased to mock me and my griefs 
With these impertinent, unmeant discourses, 
I cannot have so prodigal a faith, 125 

To give them the least credit ; and it is 
Unkindly done, thus to deride my sorrows. 
The virgin turtles hate to join their pureness 
With widow'd mates : my lord, you are a prince, 
And such as much detest to utter falsehoods, 130 

As saints do perjuries ; why should you strive then 
To lay a bait to captivate my affections 
When your greatness conjoin'd with your youth's masculine 

Are to a woman's frailty strong temptations ? 
You know the story too of my misfortunes, 135 

That your dead brother did with vicious looseness 
Corrupt the chaste streams of my spotless virtues. 


And left me floiled like a long-phick'di rose. 

Whose leaves dissevered have foregone tiieir sweetness. 

Abf, Thou hast not, my Caropta; thon to me 140 

Art for thy scent still fragrant, axid ^as precioas 
As the prime virgins of the spring, the violets. 
When they do first display their early beauties, 
Till all the winds in love do grow oontentioiis 
Which from their lips should ravish the first kisses. 145 

Caropia, think'st thou I should fear the nuptials 
Of this great Empire, 'cause it was my brcrther's ? 
As I succeeded him in all his gknies, 
'Tis fit I do succeed him in his \ove. 

'Tis true, I know thy fame fell by his practice, 150 

Which had he liVd, he'd have restored by marriage. 
By it repair'd thy injur'd honour's ruins. 
I'm bound to do it in religious consdenoe ; 
It is a debt his incens'd ghost would quarrel 
Me living Ux, should I not pa3r't with fulness. 155 

Car. Of what fraU temper is a woman's weakness 1 
Words writ in waters have more lasting essence 
Than our determinations. 

Ahf, Come, I know. 

Thou must be gentle; I perceive a combat 
In thy soft heart by th' intervening blushes 160 

That strive to adorn thy cheek with purple beauties. 
And drive the lovely livery of thy sorrows. 
The ivory paleness, out of them. Think, Caropia, 
With what a settled, unrevolting trutii 

I have affected thee, with what heat, what pureness ; 165 

And when, upon mature considerations, 
I found I was unworthy to enjoy 
A treasure of such excellent grace and goodness, 
I did desist, smothering my love in anguish. 
Anguish, to which the soul of human torments 170 

Compared, were pains, not easy, but delicious ; 
Yet still the secret flames of my affections. 
Like hidden virtues in some bashful man. 
Grew great and f erventer by those suppressions. 
Thou wert created only for an Empress ; 175 

Despise not then thy destiny, now greatness. 
Love, empire, and whate'er may be held glorious. 
Court thy aoceptance, like obedient vassals. 

Cof, [asidM\ I have oonBidcr'd, and my serioaB th oa g ta t s 


Tell me, 'tis folly to xefuse tfaeae profifeis, 180. 

To* put ofE my mortality, the pleatuiea 

Of life, which like foil atzaaiiis, do flowr from ftfiatOMSb 

To wander i' th' mpeopled aij; to keep 

Society with ghastly apparitions, 

Where's neither voice of friends, nor visiting suitors' 185 

Breaths to delight our ears ; and all this lor 

The fame of a fell muvdcfess* I have blood 

Enough already on my soul, moos thaar 

My tears can e'er wash offi — My imyal lord. 

If you can be so meitifQl aad grack>ii8, xgo 

To take a woman laden with afflictions, 

Big with true sorrow, and rehgious penitence 

For her amiss, her life and after actions 

Shall study to deserve }Ponr love. Bat sareiy 

This is not serioii& 

Abr, liol the vows which vot'nes 195 

Make to the powers above, can be mcnre fraught 
With binding sanctity. This holy kiss 
Confirms our miotual vows; never ttll now 
Was I true Caliph of Ax&bta. 

[Cries within] Enter, Enter. Enter 

Ha, what tumult's that ? 

[EfUer Abilqualit, Tarifa, Selintinis, and Soldien] 

Be you all furies, and thou the greaf st of devils, 200 

Abrahen will stand you all, unmov'd aa mountains. 

This good sword. 

If you be air, shall disenchant yaoi from 

Your borrow'd figures. 

AbiL No, iU-natur'd monster. 

We're all corporeal, and survive to take 105 

Revenge on thy inhuman acts, at name 
Of which the bashful elements do shake 
As if they teem'd with prodigies. Dost not tremble 
At thy inhumaa villaaies ? Dear Caropia, 
Quit the infectious viper, lest his touch axp 

Poison thee past recovery, 

Abr. No, she shaU not ; ISsinng Caropia} 

Nor you, until this body be <me wound. 
Lay a rude hand upon me t AbUqualit, 


Howe'er thou scap[ed]st my practices with life 

I am not now to question ; we were both 215 

Sons to one father, whom, for love of empire. 

When I believ'd thee strangled by those Mutes, 

I sent to his eternal rest : nor do I 

Repent the fact yet; I have been titled Caliph 

A day, which is to my ambitious thoughts 220 

Honour enough to eternize my big name 

To all posterity. I know thou art 

Of valiant, noble soul ; let not thy brother 

Fall by ignoble hands, oppress'd by number ; 

Draw thy bright weapon ; as thou art in empire, 225 

Thou art my rival in this lady's love, 

Whom I esteem above all joys of life : 

For her and for this monarchy let* s try 

Our strengths and [fortunes] : the impartial Fates 

To him who has the better cause, in justice 230 

Must needs design the victory. 

AbiL In this offer. 

Though it proceed from desperateness, not valour, 
Thou show'st a masculine courage, and we will not 
Render our cause so abject as to doubt 

But our just arm has strength to punish thy 235 

Most unheard-of treacheries. 

Tar. But you shall not 

Be so unjust to us and to your right 
To try your cause's most undoubted justice 
Gainst the despairing ruffian ; soldiers, puU 
The lady from him, and disarm himl 

Abil, Stay ! 240 

Though he doth merit muHitudes of death, 
We would not murder his eternity 
By sudden execution ; yield yourself. 
And we'U allow you liberty of life. 

Till by repentance you have purg'd your sin, 245 

And so, if possible, redeem your soul 
From future punishment. 

Abr, Pish, tell fools of souls, 

And those effeminate cowards that do dream 
Of those fantastic other worlds ! There is 
Not such a thing in nature ; all the soul 250 

Of men is resolution, which expires 
Never from valiant men till their last breathy 


And then with it, like to a flame extinguish'd 

For want of matter, 't does not die, but rather 

Ceases to live. Enjoy in peace yonr Empire, 255 

And as a legacy of Abrahen's love. 

Take this fair lady to your bride I Stabs her 

Abil. Inhuman butcher 1 

Has slain the lady. Look up, best Caropia. 
Run for our surgeons 1 I'll give half my Empire 
To save her precious life. 

Abr, She has enough, 260 

Or mine aim fail'd me, to procure her passage 
To the eternal dwellings : nor is this 
Cruelty in me ; I alone was worthy 
To have enjoy'd her beauties. Make good haste, 
Caropia, or my soul, if I have any, 265 

Will hover for thee in the clouds. [Showing the handkerchief] 

This was 
The fatal engine which betray'd our father 
To his untimely death, made by Simanthes 
For your use, Abilqualit ; and who has this 
About him, and would be a slave to your base mercy, 270 

Deserved death more than by daily tortures ; 
And thus I kiss'd my last breath. Blast you all 1 Dies 

Tar. Damn'd desperate villain ! 

Abil. O my dear Caropia, 

My Empire now will be unpleasant to me 
Since 1 must lose thy company. This surgeon ; 275 

Where's this surgeon ? 

Set, Drunk, perhaps I 

Car, 'Tis but needless. 

No human help can save me : yet methinks 
I feel a kind of pleasing ease in your 
Embraces. I should utter something. 

And I have s lren g U i enough, I hope, left yet 280 

To efEect my purpose. In revenge for your 
Suppos'd death, my lov'd lord, I slew my husband — 

A bil. I'm sorry thou hast that sin to charge thy soul with ; 
'Twas rumour'd by the soldiers. 

Sel, Cousins mine. 

Your necks are safe again now. 

Car. And came hither 283 

V^th an intent to have for your sake slain your brother 


Had not his courtesy aAd wimung carriage 

Altered my resolution^ with this poniard 

I'd struck him here about the heart. Siabs Abilqoalit 

Abil, O I am slain, Carc^ia, 

And by tby hand. Heavens. 3roa ars just ; this is 290 

Revenge ior tiby daar honour, which I murder'd. 
Though thou wert consenting to it. 

Car, True, I was so» 

And not repent it yet ; my sole ambition 
Was to have liv'd an Emprcas; tirliich since Fate 
Would not allow, I was resolv'd bo vtoman 295 

After myself should e'er enjoy that glory 
[With] you, dear Abilqualit ; which since my 
Weak strength has serv'd me to perfonn, I die 
WOlingly as an infant. Oh now I faint 1 
Life's death to those that keep it by coDstraint. Dies 300 

Tar. My dear lord, 
Is there no hopes of life ? Must we be wretdied ? 

Abil. Happier, my Tarifa, by my death : 
But yesterday I play'd the paxt in jest 

Which I now act in earnest. My Tarifa, 305 

The Empire's thine, I'm sure thou'It rvle't with justice. 
And make the subject happy. Thou bast a soit 
Of hopeful growing virtues to succeed thee ; 
Commend me to him, and from me entreat him 
To shun the temptings of lasdvious glances. 310 

SeL 'Las, good Prince I 
He'll die indeed, I fear, he is so full 
Of serious thoughts and counsels. 

Abil. For this slaughter'd body. 

Let it have decent burial witii sljaift Mura's; 
But let not Abrahen's coipse have so OMicfa honour 315 

To come i' th' royal monumusnt ; lay mine 
By my dear father's : for that treacbecous e«iiiid^ 
And Lord Simanthes, use them as thy justice 
Tells thee they huve meriiled ; for Loid Selinthus, 
Advance him, my Tari^ he's d laithlttl 320 

And weU-deserving virtues. 

SeL So I am, 

I thought 'twould come to me aao». Poor Prince, 
I e'en could die with him. 

Abil. And for those soldiers, and those our most faitiifal 
Mutes, that my life once sav'd, let them be well 325 


Rewarded ; Death and I are almost now 

At unity. Farewell I Dies 

Tar. Sure I shall not 

Survive these sorrows long. Mutes, take those traitors 
To prison ; we will shortly pass their sentence. 
Which shall be death inevitable. Take up 330 

That fatal instrument of poisonous mischief. 
And see it bum'd, Gaselles. Gentlemen, 
Fate has made us your king against our wishes. 

SeL Long live Tarifa, Caliph of Arabia ! 

Tor. We have no time now for your acclamations ; 335 

These are black Sorrow's festivals. Bear ofE 
In state that royal body ; for the other. 
Since 'twas his will, let them have burial. 
But in obscurity. By this it may. 

As by an ev'dent rule, be understood, 340 

They're only truly great wh' are truly good. 

Recorders, Flourish. Exeunt amnes 



I'm much displeas'd the poet has made me 

The Epilogue to his sad tragedy. 

Would I had died honestly amongst the rest, 

Rather than Uve to th' last, now to be press'd 

To death by your hard censures. Pray you say 5 

What is it you dislike so in this play. 

That none applauds ? Believe it, I should faint, 

Did not some smile, and keep me by constraint 

From the sad qualm. What pow'r is in your breath. 

That you can save alive, and doom to death, 10 

Even whom you please ? Thus are your judgments free ; 

Most of the rest are slain, you may save me. 

But if death be the word, I pray bestow it 

Where it best fits : hang up the poet. 




Bussy D'Afkbois, Chapman's most famous play, is the first in date of 
his surviving tragedies. It was entered in the Stationers* Registers, June 
3, 1607, and was published in the same year with the following title- 
page : Bussy D'Ambois : A Tragedie : As it hath "been often presented 
at Paules, London. P^rinted for Wflliam Aspley, 1607. A reissue in 
1608 differs, so far as I have noted, only in the date upon the title- 
page. The second quarto, published in 1641, with the foUowing title- 
page : Bussy D*Ambois : A Tragedie : As it hath been often Acted with 
great Applause. Being much corrected and emended by the Author before 
his death. London. Fainted by A. N. for Robert Lunne, 1 641 , presents, 
however, a thorough revision of the pJay. 

The date of composition of Bussy has been a matter of considerable 
dispute. For a detailed statement of my view on this matter and 
an exhibition of the evidence on which it is based I must refer the 
reader to an article in The Modern Language Review for January, 
1 908. Here I may be permitted merely to restate my conclusions. Bussy 
was, I take it, composed for the Children of the Chapel shortly after the 
death of Elizabeth, and in 1603 or 1604 was earned over in MS. — 
perhaps before it had been acted — to the rival company of boy actors, 
the Children of Paul's, by whom it was, as the titie-page of the first 
edition tells us, ' often presented '. It was revised, probably for a new 
production at Whitefriars by Nat. Field, about 16 10, and this revised 
form was transferred by him in MS. to the King's Men, Shakespeare's 
old Company, by whom it was performed at Court so late as 1634, 
about a month before Chapman's death. As the Prologue to the 
second quarto shows, another company had also performed the play, 
but the King's Men were by no means disposed to relinquish their 
claim, and revived it with Ilyard Swanston in the title-r61e. It 
remained in their possession till just before the closing of the theatres 
in 1642, when they allowed it to be printed. 

The career of Bussy upon the stage did not come to an end with 
the closing of the theatres. It was brought upon the boards again 
after the Restoration. Mrs. Pepys saw it on December 30, i6i3i ; 
but her report does not seem to have inspired the diarist with 
curiosity enough to attend a performance, sdthough on November 
15 of the following year he bought a copy, read part of it, and pro- 
nounced it a good play. Severer critics like Dryden ^ condemned 
it as a ' hideous mingle of false poetry and true nonsense '; but the 
performance of the part of Bussy by ' that eternally renowned and 
best of actors ', Charles Hart, ' so attracted the town in general that 
they were obliged to pass by and excuse the gross errors in writing, 
and allow it amongst the rank of the Topping Tragedies of that time '. * 

1 Se6 the DOicoHon of The Spameh Friof, i68z. 

* See D'Urfey, Dedication of Bussy D'Ambois or The Husband^s Reeemge. 



After Hart's death in 1683 the play seems to have been laid aside for 
a time, until it was revived in D'Urfey's adaptation, Bussy D'Ambois 
or The Husband's Revenge, at the Theatre Rojral in 169 1. Scandalous 
as was D'Urfey's distortion of the old play, it was apparentiy well re- 
ceived by the audience, ' whose applause ' says D'Urfey ' declared 
their satisfaction '. This was due, no doubt, in great part to the acting, 
for some of the best players of the time took part in the performance. 
The iU'fated Mountf ort played Bussy ; Kynaston, the last of the old 
boy-actors, took the part of Guise ; Powell played Montsurry ; CoUey 
Cibber, then at the beginning of his career, had the nine-line part of 
Pyrrot, and the beautiful Mrs. Bracegirdle took the part of Tamyra. 
Only one performance of D'Urfey's travesty, however, is recorded by 
Genest, and it may well be that, in spite of the acting, the satisfaction 
of the audience was hardly so complete as D'Urfey would have us 

The exact source of Chapman's play has not yet been discovered. 
De Thou's Historiae Sui Temporis has been named as a source by Lang- 
baine and others, but as Koeppel has shown 1 the portion of De Thou's 
work published before 1607 only comes down to the year 1574, whereas 
Hussy's death occurred in 1579. De Thou's account of this incident 
appears for the first time, according to Boas,9 in the edition published 
at Geneva in 1620, Liber Ixviii., 9. No account of Bussy 's love and 
death has yet been found in print prior to the appearance of Chapman's 
play, and it must, therefore, be left undecided whether Chapman derived 
his materials from some source now lost or simply from the conmion 
knowledge of the day. The latter, though less likely, is by no means 
impossible, for Bussy was a figure of no inconsiderable importance 
in his time. He was the favourite of Monsieur, then heir-apparent 
to the throne of France, the lover of Marguerite of Valois, wife of 
Henry IV, and a personage famous even at the Court of Henry IH 
for his amours, his insolence, and his fiery courage. He was men- 
tioned in contemporary despatches by the agents of Venice and Florence 
at the Court of France, by Brantome, Pierre de I'Estoile, De Thou, 
D'Aubign6, Marguerite de Valois — ^in short by all the historians 
and memoir writers of that age. Chapman may, I think, have known 
quite enough of the life of such a personage to compose his drama 
without having had recourse to any printed documents. 

A brief sketch of Bussy's life, founded in the main upon Joubert's 
monograph will put the reader, in whom Chapman's knowledge can 
hardly be presupposed, in possession of the main facts. Louis de 
Clermont d'Amboise, Seigneur de Bussy, was bom in 1 549. Like)most 
young noblemen of his time he followed the wars, and at the early 
age of eighteen was commander of a company. During the massacre 
of St. Biartholomew he murdered his cousin, Antoine de Qermont, 
Marquis de Renel, a Huguenot, with whom he had been engaged in 
a law-suit. He was repeatedly wounded in the wars that followed 
the massacre, and in 1575 was appointed a colonel in the service of 
Monsieur, for whom he left the service of the King. He distinguished 

^ QueUen und Forschungen: QueUen-siudien su den Dramen Ckapmans, 

* Bussy D*AfHbois, edited by F. S. Boas, 1905, p. xvii. 

' Louis de Clermont, Siewr de Bussy d^Amboise, Andr6 Joubert, Angers et 

Paris* Z885. 


himself at Court, particularly by his ungovernable temper and his 
quarrels with the King's minions, and even became involved in a 
dispute with the great Duke of Guise. Monsieur appointed him 
Governor of his province of Anjou in 1575, and it was here, apparently, 
that he first met the lady who was to be the cause of his tragic death. 

Fran9oise de Maridort, widow of the Baron de Luc6, married as her 
second husband Charles de Chambes, Comte de Monsoreau, Chapman's 
Mootsurry. Monsoreau held at this time the post of Grand Huntsman 
to Monsieur, to which he seems to have been appointed by Bussy's 
influence. Bussy piusued his passion for the Countess with all the 
ardour of a Frenchman of the Renaissance, but, if the account of 
Rosset ^ may be trusted, without success. He finally, however, pre- 
vailed upon the lady to promise him an assignation, whereupon he 
wrote in high glee to Monsieur that he had trapped ' la biche du grand 
veneur'. Monsieur, either carelessly or weary of Bussy's wayward 
insolence, showed tiie letter to the King, who heartily detested his 
brother's favourite. Henry retained the letter, showed it at the first 
opportunity to Monsoreau, and advised him to have a care to his 
honour. Monsoreau returned at once to his chateau, La Coutancidre, 
held a pistol to his wife's head, and farced her to invite Bussy to the 
chateau on the night of Au^st 15, 1 579. When Bussy came, unarmed 
and with but one compamon, he was set upon by Monsoreau and a 
band of bravoes. He made a desperate defence, but was finally over- 
powered and slain while attempting to leap from the window. Accord- 
mg to RoGset's account which Dumas has followed in his famous 
novel. La Dame de Monsoreau, Bussy sprang from the window, but was 
impaled on an iron railing and despatched by the murderers. 
The news of his death was carried to Monsieur in London where he 
was courting Queen Elizabeth, but affected him so little that he was 
gravely suspected of having been privy to the murder. At Court, 
however, Bussy was moum^, according to the letter of Saracini, to 
the Grand Duke of Florence, even by his enemies, who attributed to 
him, besides his excellence in arms, a singular degree of culture, grace, 
and courtesy. 

Chapman, the reader of the play will have noticed, has departed 
in one material incident from the historic account of Bussy's death. 
Curiously enough Dumas makes the same alteration of facts. Both 
the English poet and the French novelist make Monsieur, not the King, 
the direct informant of Monsoreau, and both attribute Monsieur's 
wrath against his old favourite to his discovery of the fact that Bussy 
had outstripped him in the race for the favours of Monsoreau 's wife. 
It is most unhkely that this common departure from history should 
be a mere coincidence, and it is quite incredible that Dumas, or the 
collaborator who supplied him with the materials for La Dame de 
Monsoreau, should have been acquainted with Chapman's play. It 
seems probable, theref<ve, that there should have been some common 
source as yet unknown. If any account of Bussy should be hereafter 
discovered which attributes his death to Monsieur's jealousy and 
thwarted passion for Monsoreau's wife, we may at once accept it as 
the direct source of the romance of Dumas and as representing, at least, 
a tradition familiar to Chapman. 

"^ Les Histoires Tragiques de Nosire Temps : De la mart pUoyMe du valeuf- 
eux Lysis, 1615. 


In the matter of construction Bussy D'Ambois is Chapman's msster- 
piece in tragedy. Mr. Boas rightly caBs attention to ' the ingenuity 
and skill with which he has woven into the texture of his drama a 
number of varied threads '. The numerous incidents of Bussy 's adven- 
turous career are brought into one focus, and so arranged as to lead 
on step by step from his first appearance as a poor s<ddier to his rise 
to the position of the Kmg's prime favourite, and again to his fall 
and death at the hands of Monsieur, Guise, and Montsunry. There' 
is in the aivangement and cambinatiaa of these incidents a complete 
departure from the old-fashioned mmc method of dramatizing a hero's 
life. Chapman here reveals himself for what he was, a careful student 
of classical, especially of Senecan, tragedy, the worthy peer in this 
field of Ben Jonson in the realm of comedy. And the mflnenoe of 
Seneca is shown not alone in the oondoisatian and interlinking of 
the incidents, but in various devices, faniiliai' to aU stvdents of EHsa- 
bethan drama as signs of Senecan dominance, in the sententious pro- 
logue, in the substitution of the stately rhetoric of the Nuntius ior 
the actual representation of such an incident as the dud, in the intro- 
duction of ghostly and supernatural agencies to add awe and dignity 
to the action. Yet Chapman is no blind follower of Seneca; his 
long experience as a hack-writer for Henslowe's company, his intimacy 
wititi such an actor as Field, had taught him something of the popular 
requirenients in a tragedy. In Bussy he submits more readily than 
elsewhere to the popular demand, and by tins very submission imparts 
to this j>lay a realism and sense of vigorous hie, which is noticeably 
absent m much of his graver work. The vivid realism of the Court 
scenes, especially of Bussy's quarrel with the minions and with Guise, 
the satiric humour of such dialogues as those between Bussy and ttie 
vain and greedy steward, Mafi^, and between Maff6 and his terrified 
niaster, the invocation of the Devil, couched in the manner of Mar- 
lowe, and, above all, the scenes of torture, of combat, and of murd^ 
in the last act, bear convincing witness to the ^t that Chapman, 
in this play at least, was no clo^t dramatist. 

The special glory of the Elizabethan drama is its power of char- 
acterization. Not only Shakespeare, but some even of the least dis- 
tinguished of his fellows, possessed the Promethean heat that kmdles 
into life the creations of the mind. Chapman, however, had 
less of this genuine creative power than many a meaner poet. With 
one or two exceptions the figures in Bussy, as in most of his tragedies, 
are stock figures, types, rather than strongly realized individuals. 
In the figure of the King, for example, there is not only no effort to 
realize the strange c(»npound of sensualism, superstition, cowardice, 
and ferocity which characterized the last of the Valois, but there is 
apparently no effort to present any personaJity whatsoever. Henry 
is simply the King qita King, a mouthpiece for arave and lofty senti- 
ments such as befit the mouth of a monarch. In the same way the 
Guise and Monsieur are only types, the first of the great noble offended 
by the upstart favourite, the second of the ambitious and villainous 
intriguer. And there is one scene, at least, the second of the fifth act, 
where even this pretence at characterization disappears, and Monsieur 
and the Guise become mere figures of a chorus to moralize and philoso- 
phize over the impending fate of Bussy. Yet there are touches even 
m these minor figures, such as the blending in Monsieur of iear and 
hatred of Bussy, or the revulsion of outraged love to savage cruelty 


in Montsurry, which show plainly enough that Chapman did not wholly 
lack the Elizabethan gift of character divinati<Hi and the power of 
character portrayal, obscured and interrupted as these were in him 
by other and, in his judgment, higher qualities. 

The full-length portraits of the play are those of Bussy himself and 
his mistress Tamyra, In the latter Chapman has set himself one of 
the most difficult of tasks, the portrajral of a woman, not naturally 
vicious, but overcome by a sudden and irresistible passion, striving to 
the last to keep up appearances, and yet torn inwardly by the struggle 
between her passion and the sense of guilt. Such a character is by no 
means inconceivable, but to realize it within the limits of the drama 
would tax the powers of Shakespeare himself, and not the most enthu- 
siastic of Chapman's admirers would claim that ^e has wholly succeeded 
in his task. A close study of the play wiU reveal touch after touch 
by which Chapman has striven to give reality to his conception, and 
•it is, perhaps, impossible to point out a single flaw or inconsistency in 
the character ; but it is laboriously composed rather than created. 
In the slang phrase of criticism it is not ' convincing '. Nor is it sympa- 
thetic, for the reader, who is attracted by the romantic passion of 
Tamyra, is repelled by her hypocritical insistence upon the proprieties 
and the cool effrontery of her denial of guilt. The truth seems to be 
tliat such a character as Chapman had conceived is wholly out of place 
in romantic tragedy. 

It is otherwise with the figure of Bussy. The long and successful 
career of this play upon the stage is convincing proof of the sympathetic 
and dramatically efiecttve character of the hero, for,^from the point 
of view of the acting drama, Bussy is the whole play. His long tirades 
in Chapman's finest style of impassioned rhetoric must have furnished 
a splendid opportunity to an actor of the old declamatory school; 
and even after the Elizabethan delight in passionate and ornate speech 
had died out, the character of Bussy, as D'Urfey's testimony proves, 
continued to fascinate the house, mainly, we may believe, by its fiery 
energy of action. 

This, indeed, is the first and most striking characteristic of Bussy. 
He is primarily a figure of the school of Msurlowe : one of the Titan 
brood of Elizabethsm drama, ' a spirit beyond the reach of fear ', a 
character of unrestrained will and boundless ambition. There is, to 
be sure, no definite goal indicated for his ambition as in Tambuflaine 
or Dr, Faustus, The passion that dominates him is a desire for self- 
fulfilment, a lust to realize himself in and work his will upon the world 
in which he lives. And this passionate desire is attended by a self- 
confidence which, in the hero's mind, is the surest guarantee of success. 
Bussy is no man of doubts and scruples. Obstacles confront him 
only to be surmounted. If he meets an enemy, he must slay him ; 
if he loves a woman, he must seize upon her. Conventions and moral 
laws alike go down before him. 

It is this self-confidence which enables Bussy to run his brief but 
splendid career so triumphantly, to brave the Guise, to browbeat the 
heir to the throne, to confront the spirit of evil himself, and at the 
last, when trapped by treachery, to die like a Roman emperor, con- 
senting rather than yielding to death. 

If we look below the surface for the ground of Bussy's self-confidence, 
we come at once upon an element in his character which sharply dis- 
tinguishes him from the Titanic, but simple, heroes of Marlowe. Bussy 

C.D.W. N N 


is not a mere bustling man of action, much less a braggart or miles 
gloriosus. Rather he is the embodiment of an idea which Chapman 
derived from the Stoics, that of the self-sufficiency, the all-sufficiency, 
of the virtuous man. Bussy, it is true, is far from virtuous in our 
modem sense of the word, but he is the very incarnation of virius, as 
the Romans understood it, ' the sum of aU the bodily and mental 
excellences of man '. His bitterest enemy pronounces him ' young, 
learned, valiant, virtuous, and fuU-mann'd . It is his firm retiance 
upon virtue so understood, that gives Bussy his unquenchable setf- 
oonfidence. He knows that 

Who to himself is Utw, no Utm doth need, 
. Offends no law, and is a hing indeed. 

It is not by chance, nor as a mere Uterary ornament, that Chapman, 
as Mr. Boas ^ has shown, puts into the mouth of the dying Bussy lines 
borrowed from the death-scene of the Senecan Hercules. Like Her- 
cules, Chapman's Bussy has been the self-reliant hero who pitted his 
own strength and ' virtue ' against a hostile world, and like Hercules 
he falls at last a victim to inevitable, because unsuspected, fate. It 
is this philosophic conception of the ' noblesse ' of man — ^to use a 
favourite term of Chapman's — ^that has transformed the splendid 
swashbuckler of the French court into a type of man at war with the 
world. That is the true theme of the tragedy of Bussy D'Ambois^ 
not the hero's passion for Tamyra and its fotal consequences, for the 
amour is plainly enough only an incident in Bossy's career, but the 
struggle of such a character with his environment, the combat of the 
individualist against the world, and his fall — ^not so much at the hands 
of Guise and Monsieur, as of Death and Destiny. And the tragic 
lesson of the play is summed up in the last words of Bussy: 

O frail condition of strength, valour, virtue. 
In me (like warning fire upon the top 
Of some steep beacon on a steeper Ml) 
Made to express it : like a falling star 
SilenUy glanced, that lihe a thunderboU 
Looh'd to have stuck arui shook the firmament. 

^ Boas, pp. xviii-zix. 



Pioloffae. The Prologue does not u>pear in the Qq. of 2607 or 1608, and was 
in all probability composed not by Chapman at the time of his revision of 
the play, but by another writer for a late revival of the play by the King's 

The occasion of this revival seems to have been the performance of Bussy 
by another company than the King's Men. The latter, miwilling to quit 
their claim upon the play, brought it once more upon the stage, although, as 
is evident from the closing lines of the Prologue, they were uncertain whether 
the present impersonator of the hero would be able to maintain the traditions 
set by Field, and by ' one who came the nearest to him '. This latter actor, 
now too old to take the part of Bussy (11. X6-9), has not been identified ; 
but the ' third man ' (1. 21 h i.e. the present actor of the part, has been plausibly 
identified by Fleay {Biog. Chron, vol. i, p. 60), with Ilyard, or Elliard, Swanston, 
a member of the King's Men from 1625-42 (Fleay, Biog. Chron. vol. i. p. 
60), whose performance of Bussy is alluded to by Edmund Gayton in 1654 

iPUasant Notes on Don guixoUj p. 25). Swanston's ' Richard ' (1. 23), may 
lave been the part of Ricardo m Massinger's The Picture (which he is known 
to have played m 1629, licensed by Herbert, June 8, 1629 ; see Malone-Boswell, 
Shakespewe, vol. iii, p. 230), or possibly that of Shakespeare's Richard III. 
Bussy D*Ambois was periormed at Court, in the cockpit at Whitehall, by 
the King's Men on Easter Monday night, i.e.j April 7, 1634 {HerherVs Accounts, 
in the Malone-Boswell, Shakespeare, vol. iii, p. 227). It may have been for 
this performance that the Prologue was written ; the phrase ' gracious and 
noble friends' (1. 8) would be particularly appropriate to an audience at 

Dramatis Persona 

Mondeiir, the familiar title of the next younger brother of the King of 
France. This was Francois, Duke of Alen9on, and later of Anjou, the youngest 
son of Catherine de Medici, best known to English readers as the suitor of 
Queen Elizabeth. 

The Duke of GidBO, Henri le Balafr6, the great leader of the Catholics in the 
Civil Wars, the assassin of Coligny, himself murdered by order of Henri III 
at Blois in 1588. 

Montinmr. This is Chapman's curt English form for Charles de Chambes, 
Comte de Monsoreau, Grand Huntsman to Monsieur ; the Monsorellus of De 
Thou's Historiae Sui Temporis. 

Oomotot Chapman may have taken this name, which he uses throughout 
in the first edition of the play (Qq. 1607, x6o8] instead of ' Friar \ from the 
historical Father Commolet, an acoomplioe before the fact in the murder of 
Henry Illjof France.* 

TamjnL Chapman's name for Fran90ise de Maridort* wife of the Comte 
de Monsoreau. 

^ The tlloBloa to Field in I. 15 shoivt that it was oompoted after hia departure from the 
King't Men aome tf™** before 1625. 
"See Gztmetton, Generai Inventory, edition of x6xx« p. 879. 




h U Aittr Bmy • . . poor. This descriptioa may have been suggested to 

Chapman by a well-known anecdote of Bussy's appearance at Court in a 
simple dress, followed b^ six pages in cloth of gold. See Pieire de L'Estofle, 
Memoir$s-JoumauXf edition 1 875-96, vol. i, p. 239. If so. Chapman can only 
have had a confused remembrance of it ; his presentati<xi of Buasy as a ^oor 
gentleman brought to Court by the favour of Monsiexxr is quite unhistoncaL 
I, i« 2. Honour on his head: upside down. The same phrase occurs in 
Chapman's poem, A Coronet for his Mistress Philosophy , 1595 : 

Th* inverted world thai goes upon her head. 

U 7. Unskilful statuaries, Cf. Byron's Conspiracy, iv, i, 179 ssq. 

ii^, A torch ... a shadow. The first of these phrases has a parallel 

in Chapman's Hymn to Christ upon the Cross, 1612 : b^ore the wind a 

fume {Poems, p. 147) ; the seoond is the famous phrase of Pindar, (nrt«f 

ivap lv»im909. Pythia viii, 96-7. 
I, i, tt. To put a gifdle round about the world, Cf . Midsummer Nighfs Dream, 

II, i, 175-6: 

ru put a prdle round about the earth 
In forty mtnutes. 

This well-known phrase was probably suggested to Shakespeare by a 
device in Whitney's A Choice of Emblems (Leyden, 1586, p. 203), celebrating 
DraJce's navigation of the world in the years 1577-80. It depicts the hand 
of Providence issuing from a cloud and holding a girdle which encom- 
passes a globe. The other end of the girdle is attached to the bow of a 
ship which rests upon the globe, and the superimposed motto is Auxilio 
divino. The device was doubtless well known, and the phrase became a 
common one in Shakespeare's time. It is found not only in Shakespeare 
and Chapman, but in Massinger, The Maid of Honour, I, i, and in Shirley, 
The Humorous Courtier, I, i. Whitney's device is reproduced by H. Green, 
Shakespeare and the Emblem Writers, p. 413. 

I, i, 88. The simile of a shipwreck in the haven seems to have been a favourite 
with Chapman. It occurs in Monsieur D* Olive, I, i, 175, in The Tear^ 
of Peace {Poems, p. 133)1 ^^d in A Justification of Perseus and Andromeda. 

I, i, 10. ' Impressions to serve as a precedent for the actions of inferior persons '. 

^ i* 60. To bear state : to bear himself i)roudly. 

It if 67-81. This 8i>eech affords a striking example of one of Chapman's 
methods of composition with which a careful student of his work becomes 
increasingly familiar. It is a mere mosaic of ideas, examples, figures 
even, taken directly from one of Chapman's favourite classic authocs, 
Plutarch. The theme of this speech is the duty of public life and 
service, and the source is Plutarch's essay on this theme known as De 
Latenter Vivendo, Here we may find (I, i). the ' gourmandist ' Gnatho, 
and the references to Themistodes, CanuUus, and Epaminondas— the 
statement as to the dictatorships and triumphs of Camillus comes 
from the first lines of Plutarch's life of that hero. The simile of the 
bumish'd steel, U. 75-6, is adapted from a quotation from Sophocles 
which appears in IV, 5, of Plutarch's essay, and 11. 76-81 are an expansion 
of a sentiment more briefly expressed by Plutarch in IV, 4. 

Numerous instances of this method will occur hereafter, and in each 
case the passage in Chapman is so close to its original as to suggest that 
he composed it with the classic author open before him, or — ^more pro- 
bably — that, like his friend Jonson, he kept a commonplace book into 
wluc^ he translated favourite bits and on which he drew at will when 

'^ composing his plays and poems. 

I, i, 80-7. Set my looks . . . brake, A brake is a vice. The phrase means 
to keep a steady, unmoved face. A parallel occurs in Byron's Tragedy, 

- IV,i.84: 

Su in how grave a brake he sets his vixard. 

I, i, 80-90. There seems to be some reference in these lines to an old riddle 
such as schoolmistresses might ask their pupils, but I have not succeeded 
in identifying it. 

NOTES 549 

I, i, lOlMI. Bussy insinuates that a courtier draws evil out of good. When 
he hears a sermon preached against certain vices, all that he learns from 
it is to practise those vices in such a way as to show their characteristic 
qualities, f unfold their art. 

I, i, 118-4. I have not been able to trace any reference to such a representa- 
tion of Fortune. 

I, i, 124. UnsweaHng thrift : cc^d-blooded economy, or calculation. 

I, i 189. When it cries clinh : when the hour strikes ; cf. U, 134-5* 

It U 178. There is a play on the word commanded. Maff6 uses it in the 
sense of ' to hold conmiand \ as of a body of troops ; Bussy in the sense 
of ' to order ', as, for example, a dinner. 

I, i, 187. I am a poet. Joubert, Bussy D'Amboise, pp. 305-9, prints a 
poem of Bussy's. 

I, i, 188. Fair great noses. This is no chance allusion. Monsieur's nose 
was a mark for the satirists of the time. Pierre de L'Estoile {Journal 
de Henri IT I, p. 250, edition Petitot) cites a quatrain composed at the 
time of Monsieur*s attempt on Antwerp, 1583 : 

Flamands ne soyes Stonnes 
Si a Frangois voyez deux tUx : 
Car par droits raison, ei usage, 
Faut deux rUs d double visage. 

To this quatrain Petitot adds a note : ' La petite v^ole avoit extr&nent 
maltraite le visage de ce prince, qui paroissait avoir deux nez.' Elsewhere 
L'Estoile remarks that Monsieur was afiOlcted with a double nose, ' the 
sign of a traitor ', in this case a most appropriate sign. 

It it 19476. Your chain and velvet jacket : the S3anbols of his office as steward; 
cf . Sir Toby's advice to MalvoUo : Go rub your chain with crumbs, Twelfth 
Night, II, iii, 128-9. The velvet jacket seems also to have been part of 
the costume o! the steward, or gentleman usher ; cf. A Mad World, My 
Masters, III, iii, 60-62 (Middleton, Bullen's edition). 

I, i, 807. His wooden dagger. This stock property of the Vice in the old 
Moralities was sometimes carried by the Elizabethan fool or jester. Maff6 
who mistakes Bussy for a new jester engaged by Monsieur, consequently 
speaks of him as possessing this tool of his Ixade. 

I, ii. Pyra. This character appears here and in two other scenes, II, ii, 
and IV, i, but has not a single speech assigned her. This is one of several 
instances of Chapman's fondness for crowding the stage with insignificant 

I, ii, 8. That English virgin : * apparently Annable, who is the Duchess of 
Guise's lady in waiting (cf. Ill, u, 234-40) '. — Boas. 

^ ii, 44. Chapman plays m this line on the two meanings, ' travail ' and 
• journey *, 

I, ii, 82. The allusion to leap-year in this line serves to fix the date of 
the play. It cannot refer to the actual year of Bussy's presentation at 
Court, 1569, which was not a leap-year and which, in all probability, 
was quite unknown to Chapman. The passage is a ' gag ', not of the 
cleanest, and is one of the anachronisms with which all students of Eliza- 
bethan dtama are familiar. Since the allusion to a knight of the new 
edition in 11. 140-1 is evidently to James I's wholesale creation of knights 
immediately after his accession in 1603, the play must have been written 
after that date. And since it vyas printed in 1607 the only leap year 
that suits the dates is 1604. See further the article already cited in Modem 
Language Review, January, 1908. 

^ ii, 97. Turn the ladder : probably ' turn off the ladder ', ' be hanged to 

I, i£ 101. Gfoom-porfers. The Groom-porter was an officer of the English 
Royal Household, whose chief function was to regulate all matters con- 
nected with gaming within the Court, to decide disputes at play, etc. 
The office is mentioned as early as 1502 in the Privy Purse Expenses of 
Elizabeth of York, and was not abolished till the time of George III. 


It hf 112. The Guisard. This word has troubled the editors. Dilke suggests 
that it may be ' a jingling allusion to goose herd or gozzard ' ; Boas thinks 
it may be a variant ot * gizsard ' ' in which case it would mean the Duke's 
throat *. It seems to me plain that the word means nothing more or less 
than a partisan of Guise, and is here applied contemptuously to the great 
Duke hunself. Bussy addresses him in the same way in III, ii, 80. 

I, il, 118-9. Aedus Navius : or Attus Navius, the legendary Roman augur 
who at the command of Tarquin cut through a whetstone with a razor. 
See Livy, i, 36. 

I» ii, 184. Dramatic literature of the first decade of the seventeenth century 
is full of satirical allusions to the ' knights of the new edition ', i.e. the 
lOiights so lavi^y created by James I in the early years of his reign. 
A notable instance of this occurs in Eastward Ho, IV, 1, 213-4* where the 
rascally Sir Petronel Flash is spoken of as one of the King's ' thirty- 
pound knights '. 

It Ii* 185. The hmghfs ward was a part of the Counter, a London prison 
where debtors were confined ; cf . Eastward Ho, V, 2, 54. There is here 
a contemptuous allusion to Bussy's former poverty. 

I, il, 146. OiU 0* th* presence : beyond the limits of the Court, within which 
specially severe penalties were inflicted for brawline. Readers of Soott 
will remember the punishment that threatened Nigel Olifaunt for striking 
Lord Dalgamo within the limits of St. James's Park. 

I, II, m. In Blisabethan and Jacobean times the floors even of palaces 
were strewn with rushes. There are countless allusions to this practice 
in Blisabethan drama. Perhaps the best known is Shakespeare's 

Let wantons light of heart 
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels. 

Romeo and Juliet, I, iv, 35-^. 

Compare also the comic scene in The Gentleman Usher, II, i, where Bassiolo 
teaches Vincentio how to strew the floor. 

I, il, l(Nm. Of the place the divers frames : I take frames to denote the 
conformation of the ocean bed, the place, which contributes to making 
the sea bristled with surges, 

I, II, 178. New denizened: newly naturalized. The allusion is, of course, 
to tile Scotch lords and genUemen who flocked to London upon the acces- 
sion of James I, and were not unnaturally regarded by the English as 
intruders. The question of the union of the kingdoms and, in particular, 
of the naturalization of the Scotch in England excited much attention 
in the|first years of J ames's reign, and was stubbornly opposed by the popular 
. partv in Parliament. 

I, Ii, 180-8. A reference to Aesop's fable of the ass in the lion's skin ; no, 
333i Teubner edition. 

It ii, 187. Carry tt off : get the better of the quarreL 

I, IL 808-10. Descants . . . ground, Bussy plays on the technical and 
the ordinary senses of these words. A ' descant ' in music was the ' melo- 
dious accompaniment to a simple theme ', i.e., ' ihe ground ' ; but it also 
means a conmient, or observation on some topic. Cf. Richard III, III, 
vii, 49 : On that ground TU make a holy decani. Ground, of course, 
means ' basis ' or ' subject ' as well as ' a musical theme '. 

^ II, 288. Musk cats : the perfumed courtiers with whom Bussy has been 
quarrelling. Cf. As You Like It, III, ii, 65-6, where Corin speaks of 
the courtier's hands perfumed with civet. 

It lit 888. This priviledge : the Court limits. See note on I, ii, 146 above. 

0^ I, 5-10. With this coinparison of Envy to the kite feeding on carrion 
compare a passage in Chabot, IV, i, 14-6, and the note thereon. In 
The Tears of Peace {Poems, p. 117) Chapman compares idle men to kites 
who stoop at scraps and garbage. 

IL If 18-8. Bruits it. , . , Being sound and healthful Boas paraphrases 
this passage ; ' proclaims it through the world to be sound and whol^me ' . 
But I think it is better to take the participial clause as modifying ihs. 

NOTES 551 

i.e., Envy, in 1. zx, who leasts soundly and healthfully on the evil that she 
finds in men, but sickens {surfeits, 1. 15) at the taste ox good. 

n* i, Ifr-?. There is an almost verbal parallel to these lines in Chapman's 
Invective aeainst Jonsani Poems, -o, 433). 

n* i, 85 ssq. The account of the duel between Bussy and his two friends on 
the one side and the three courtiers on the other was probably suggested 
to Chapman by some report of the famous duel fought by three of Henry 
II Fs minions, Quelus, Maugiron, and Livarot, with three partisans of 
the Duke of Guise, D'Entragues, Rib^ac, and Schomberg, on April 27, 
1578. Maugiron and Schomberg were slain on the spot ; Rib6rac was 
mortally wounded and died the next day ; Quelus, who had received 
nineteen wounds, lingered for a month and then died ; and Livarot was 
confined to his bed for six weeks. D'Entragues alone survived unhurt 
(as Bussy does here), escaping with a mere scratch. Dumas, whose 
romance, La Dame de Monsoreau, touches Chapman's play at nxany 
points, also gives in the last chapter of that work a narrative founded 
upon this famous duel. According to Dumas Bussy was to have taken part 
in the duel, but was assassinated on the evening before by Monsoreau. See 
Brantome {Sur les Duels, p. 3x2, edition of Soci6t6 de L'Histoire de France) 
and Pierre de L'Estoile {Journal de Henri ///, p. 167, edition Petitot). 

IL if 51* Pyrrho : or rather Pyrrhon, a Greek philosopher of the time of 
Alexander the Great. He was one of the early sceptics and taught that 
since we can know nothing of the realities of things we should be indifferent 
to all things. See Cicero. Fin. ii, 13, 43. An anecdote in Montaigne gives 
a characteristic view of his attitude toward death. 

' Pirro, the Philosopher, finding himselfe upon a very tempestuous 
day in a boat, shewed them whom he perceived to be most affrighted 
through feare, and encouraged them by the example of an hog that was 
amongst them, and seemed to take no care at all for the storme.' 

Montaigne I, 40 (Florio's translation*!. 

0^ U 54-8. The reference is to the Iliad, not, as Mr. Boas says» to the seventh 
book, but to the third, 11. 76-83. 

' His amendsful words did Hector hiehfy please. 
Who rush'd between the fighting hosts and made ^ Trojans cease 
By holding up in midst his lanu. 

Chapman's Iliad, 

0^ i, 60. Ripped up the quarrel : discussed the cause of the quarrel. Or> 
continuing the simile of Hector in U. 54-8, it may mean, separated the 

0^ i, 78-80. Lamb, Specimens of the English Dramatic Poets, says : ' One 
can hardly believe but that these lines were written after Milton had 
described his warring angels.^ Cf. Paradise Lost, VI, 11. 330-1 and IL 
344-9. Milton and Chapman, of course, go back to a common origin, 
the mediaeval conception of spiritual bodies. 

I^ i, 84-90. The confusion of personal pronouns makes this passage some- 
what difficult ; A« in 1. 84 is Bussy ; him and himself in 1. 85 refer to Barri- 
r sor; A« in U. 86 and 87 refers agam to Bussy ; his, 1. 90, to Barrisor. 

n, !• 92. Redoubled in his danger: 'thrusting himself a second time into 
danger '. — Boas. Cf . the use of redoubled in 1. 190 below. 

0^ i, 04. Arden : the forest of romance par excellence in Elizabethan litera- 
ture. It is mentioned by Spenser, Astrophel, and Lodge, Rosalynde, as 
well as by Shakespeare and Chapman. 

n, 1, 94-101. With the simile in these lines compare the well known passage 
in the JBneid, ti, 626-63 : 

Ac veluH summis antiauam in montibus omum 
Cum ferro accisam creorisque bipennibus instant 
Eruere agricolae certatim, ilia usque minatur 
Et tretnefacta comam concusso vertice nutat, 
Volneribus donee pauUOim evicta sufremmm 
Congemuit Praxitque fugis avolsa rmnam. 


' Even as when on the height of the mountains, labourers press on 
with rival zeal to cut down from the roots an ancient ash, hewn around 
with the steel and with repeated blows of the hatchet ; it ever threatens 
to fall, and <)uivering npds the foliage on its tossing top, until by degrees 

guite vanquished by blows, it heaves aloud its last groan, and torn away 
:om the crag, brings down a ruinous mass.' 

Translation of Lonsdale and Lee. 
We have here an instance where Chapman is not so much paraphrasing 
a passage from a classical author as writing under the inspiration of a 
reminiscence. One or two of his phrases In these lines seem directly 
suggested by Virgil. 
n, i, 104. Navarre ; Henry of Navarre, at