University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter King, Guise, Monsieur, Dutchess, Ladies, Gent. Guards.
King.
That I did pardon him, was at your Request,
How comes this suddain Revocation?

Mons.
I had not then consider'd on it Sir.

King.
Then I have now consider'd of it Brother,
And find the nature of his Quarrel Just. Admit him.
[Enter D'Amboise.
Stand up Count, and let your wary valour
[D'Amboise Kneels.
Henceforth show, that you deserve our Pardon.

Bussy.
Royal Sir,
I lothe as much a deed of unjust nature
As Law it self does, and to insult on others;
Because I have as little spirit to dare,
And power to do, as to be insulted on;
Yet thus low I must humbly beg your Majesty,
And hope it will be heard by your high Goodness,
That I may justly use what Law and Nature
Have given me for defence; since I am free,
Offending no Just Law, let no Law make
By any wrong it does, my Life her Slave:
But when I am wrong'd, this Law fails to right me,
Let me be King my self, as Man was made,
[Rises.
And do a Justice that exceeds the Law,
If my wrong pass the power of single Valour,
To right and expiate; you are still my King,
And can do right exceeding Law and Nature.
Who to himself is Law, no Law does need,
Offends no Law, and is a Man indeed.

King.
Brave Man, enjoy thy wish, I'le back it with my Powers.

Bussy.
The Life you give, Great Sir, is ever yours.

King.
Thy love speaks heartily, thy Impartial Words
Are like brave Faulcons, that dare truss a Fowl
Much greater than themselves; Flatterers are Kites
That prey on Sparrows. Thou shalt be my Eagle,
And bear my Thunder underneath thy Wings.

Buss.
Where e're I see a smooth Tongu'd Sycophant,
I hate him like the Devil, his dear Tutor.

King.
Fly at him, and his Brood: I cast thee off.
And once more give thee Sirname of my Eagle.

Buss.
I'le make you sport enough Sir, let me have
My Lucerns too, my Dogs Inur'd to hunt
Beasts of such Rapine, only to put 'em up;
And if I truss not then my Quarry, slight me.
Shew me a Clergy-Man that is in Voice
A Lark of Heaven, in Heart, a Mole of Earth;
That Morals reads, yet leads a wicked life,
Has a meek Look, but a luxurious Paunch;
And tho he preaches vertuous Continence,
Shall meet a flesh'd Whore in a Bawdy Corner,
And use her, tho the Consequence be Murder.
Let me but Hawk at him, and like a Fellon,
He shall confess all, and you then may hang him.
Shew me a Lawyer that turns Sacred Law,
The equal render of each Man his own.
The Sanctuary and Impregnable Defence
Of retir'd Learning, and distress'd Virtue,
Into a Harpy that all things devours,
That in a bad cause Bawls till his vile Ears
Are Deaf with the very Ecchoes of his Nonsense:
Yet in a good one, if the needy Client want
Gold to anoint, shall lose it for a Jest:
Let me but Hawk once at the Rogue, and then
He shall confess all too, and you may hang him.

Enter Mount Surry and Tamira.
[King and Mont. talk.
Guise.
Where would you seek such Game as you would hawk at.

Buss.
I'le Hawk about your House for one.

Guise.
Come y'are a Glorious Ruffian, and run Mad
With the Kings headlong Graces; stop your Breath,
Or by that poyson'd vapour, not himself,
Shall back your Murderous slander against me.

Buss.
Oh that the King would make his Presence free
But for one Brush betwixt us! By the Reverence
Due to the sacred space between Kings and Subjects,
Here would I make thee cast that that popular Purple
In which thy proud Soul sits and braves thy Sovereign.

Mons.
Peace, Peace, I prithee Peace.

Buss.
Let him peace first, that gave the first disturbance.

Mons.
He's the better Man.

Buss.
And therefore should do best.

Mons.
He has more Titles.

Buss.
So Hidra had more Heads.

Mons.
He's greater far.

Buss.
His greatness is the Peoples, mine's my own.

Mons.
He's nobly born.

Buss.
What then, so am I;
True Nobleness in Blood, has no gradation
But in our Merit.

Guise.
Thou'rt not nobly born,
But Bastard to the Cardinal of Amboise.

Buss.
Thou lyest proud Guiserd: Oh let me fly, Sir.

[To the King.
King.
Not in my Face, my Eagle.

Buss.
Still shall we rail and foam upon this Bitt?
Is the Guise only great in Faction?
Stands he not by himself? Holds he the Opinion
That Mens Souls are without 'em? Be a Duke,
And lead me to the Field.

Guise.
Come, follow me.

King.
Stay 'em, stay D'Amboise; Cozen Guise, I wonder
Your prudent Disposition brooks so ill;
A Man so good, that only would uphold
Man in his Native Nobleness, from whose fall
All our Dissentions rise; for 'tis most certain,
That the Bounteous and Impartial hand of Nature,
That all things gave in the Original,
Without the definite terms of Thine and Mine,
Had nere bin Ravish'd by the Hand of Fortune,
Had all preserv'd her in her prime, like D'Amboise.
Let my hand therefore be the Hermean Rod,
To part and reconcile, and so preserve you
As my combin'd Embracers and Supporters.

Buss.
My Lord, 'tis the Kings motion, and we shall not seem
Womanish to any, tho we change thus so soon,
Never so great Grudg for his greater pleasure.

Guise.
I seal to that, and so the Manly freedom
That you so much profess, hereafter prove not
A Bold and glorious License to desprave
To me his Hand, shall hold the Hermean Virtue,
To joyn all hearts, in which submissive sign,
On this his Sacred right hand, I lay mine.

Buss.
'Tis well my Lord, and so your worthy greatness
Incline not to the greater Insolence,
And make you think it a prerogative,
To rack Mens Freedom by your Dignity.
My hand stuck full of Lawrel, in true sign
'Tis wholly dedicate to Righteous Peace,
In all submission kisses t'other side.

King.
I thank ye both; and equally invite you
To a kind Banquet, where we'll sacrifice
Full Cups to Confirmation of our Loves.
At which, fair Ladies, I desire your Presence,
And hope you Madam, will take off one Glass
To the Reconcilement of your Lord and Servant.

Dutchess.
If I should fail it Sir, some other Lady
Would be found there to do that for my Servant.

Mons.
Any of these here?

Dutchess.
Nay, I know not that.

Buss.
Are you of that Opinion, pretty Lady?

Tam.
I think not on you Sir, y'are one I know not.

[Scornfully.
Bussy.
Cry ye Mercy Madam.

Mont.
Oh Sir, has she met with ye, ha, ha, ha.

Bussy.
'Tis still my Luck my Lord,

[Exeunt King, D'Amb. and Ladies.
Manent Guise, Monsieur and Mount Surry.
Mons.
What had my Bounty drunk, when it rais'd him?

Guise.
Y'have stuck up a very worthy Flag,
That takes more Wind, than we with all our Sails.

Mont.
Oh how he spreads and flourishes!

Guise.
He must down;
Upstarts should never perch too near a Crown.

Mons.
And as this doting hand
Even out of Earth, like Juno, struck this Giant,
So Jove's great Ordnance shall be here imploy'd
To strike him under th'Ætna of his Pride.
To which work, lend your hands. In my opinion
'Tis necessary then, that we attempt
The safest means to that discovery,
And court our greatest Ladies chiefest Women
With shews of Love, and liberal Promises.
I have one already, that I think I'm sure of;
'Tis but our Breath. If something given in hand
Sharpen their hopes of more, 'twill be well ventur'd.

Guise.
I'm of your Mind my Lord.

Mons.
I have broken
The Ice to it already with the Woman
Of your Chaste Lady, and conceive good hopes
Against we meet next.

Mont.
Ah! there's small hopes there.

Guis.
Very like—Lord, Lord, how credulous these Cuckcold's are?
[aside.
—Here, she comes and two of her Companions.

Enter Women.
Mons.
What starting back and from your Friend—

[Takes hold of Charlot.
Guise.
Nay, Faith you are engag'd—

[To Pero.
Pero.
Nay, Pray my Lord, forbear.
[Exit Pero.

Mont.
What, are you skittish?

[To Anable.
Ana.
No, my Lord, I have out liv'd that season long since.

Mons.

Now my dear Charlotte, hast thou remembred me for the discovery
I intreated thee to make of thy Mistriss? Come, speak boldly, and
be sure of all things that I have sworn to thee.

Charl.

Building on that assurance, my Lord, I may speak; and the rather,
because my Lady has not intrusted me with what I can tell you, for
now I dō not betray her.

Mons.

Whugh, that's all one; if thou didst so, we reach our aims; come,
prithee let's hear.

Charl.

To tell you the truth, my Lord, I have made a strange Discovery.

Mons.

Excellent Rogue! how thou revivest me? thou shalt be married
this Carnival, I'll make thee a Lady for't; I know a Coxombly Knight
of my Acquaintance will do't for a Words speaking.

Charl.
Well, really your Highness is so obliging, tis this
Then: Last Night my Lord lay out, and I,
Watching my Lady's sitting up, stole up at Midnight
From my bed, and having made a hole
Quite through the Walls and Arras to her inmost Chamber,
What do you think I saw?

Mons.
The Devil and she perhaps playing at Picket.

Charl.
'Twas one indeed, that you like as ill as the Devil.

Mons.
I like as ill—

Char.
To be brief, my Lord, I saw her and D'Ambois reading a Letter.

Mons.
D' Ambois!

Char.
Even he, my Lord.

Mons.
Dost thou not dream, Wench?

Charl.
I swear, he is the Man.

Mons.
The Devil indeed, and thy Lady is his Dam; why
This was the happiest shot that ever flew, the just
Plague of Hypocrisie levelled it. Oh the infinite
Regions betwixt a Woman's Tongue and her Heart!
Is this our Goddess of Chastity?—But sweet Charlot,
Who should she trust with this Conveyance? Or all
The doors being fast, how should his Conveyance be made?

Charl.
Nay, my Lord, that amazes me, I cannot by any
Study, so much as guess at it.

Mons.
Well, we'll forbear that a little—

Mont.
Prithee resolve me, the Duke will never
Think I am busie about his Wife—Has D'Ambois
Any privy Access to her?

Anab.
No my Lord, D'Ambois neglects her, and therefore
She is suspitious, that either your Lady or the Lady
Beaupre has closely entertin'd him.

Mont.
My Lady! ha, ha, that's a likely suspition indeed;
By Heaven, I dare trust her with a thousand of 'em.

Mons.
Come, we'll disguise all with seeming only to have courted.

Charl.
And will your Highness be sure to remember the Knight.

Mons.
I will, I will upon my Honour—

[Exeunt Women.
Guis.
I shall live to see thee laugh'd at e're it be long, ha, ha, ha.

Mons.

Well, my Lords, What fruit of our Inquisition? my Lord
Montsurry, find you nothing budding, yet?

Mont.
It makes me smile to think on't, mine suspects that.
Your Neice or my Wife closely entertains him!

Mons.
Your Wife, my Lord, think you that possible?

Mont.
Ridiculous! I know she flies him like her last hour.

Mons.
Her last hour, what! that comes upon her the more she flies it;
Does D' Ambois so? think ye.

Mont.
That's not worth answering—

Mons.

Well, more of this another time, I'll meet you at the Banquet,
and afterwards we'll consult.

[Exit Mons.

Guis.
'Tis miraculous to think, what Monsters
Womens Imaginations ingross, when they are once
Enamored, and what wonders they'll work for their
Satisfaction, they will make a Sheep valiant, a Lyon fearful.

Mont.
And an Ass confident—
[Aside.
Well, my Lord, more will out shortly; come let's to the Banquet.

[Exeunt.