 | The Ambitious Statesman, or the Loyal Favourite |  |
[Scene]
SCENE, His Apartment in the Louvre .Constable.
Yesterday charged to come no more to Council!
Last Night depriv'd of all my great Employments!
A soft dismission, stuft with downy words
Sent me to sleep upon! and sleep I may,
My Doors are quiet, and my Rooms are empty;
No Courtiers ruffle in my Anti-Chamber,
Waiting my Rising; no Petitioners
Attending in the Hall my coming down:
All full of melancholy death-like Silence.
Have I rul'd France ten flourishing years and more,
2
And shall I now be ruin'd by the Dauphin,
A proud rash Boy? Let the young Polypheme,
Devour the Calves of Court, I will outdo
Ulysses, I will kindle such a Fire,
Shall burn the Gyant, and his Den together.
Ho! There.
Enter Secretary.
Secret.
My Lord!
Const.
Are the Dispatches gone,
To Gascoin, Normandy, and Aquitain?
Secre.
They went above an hour ago.
Const.
That's well:
Those Provinces are ready for Rebellion.
[Aside.
And I have spurr'd 'em on; there shall be shortly
Such a strange thing, as Liberty in France.
I hope ere it be long, to hear in France
The English Drums, beat Freedom, Freedom.
I've sent a secret Invitation
To their brave fiery young King, Henry the 5th.
And I've enrag'd the Duke of Burgundy,
That he is enter'd into League with him.
And I'me preparing a Rebellion;
A noble Fire to warm him at his Landing,
From the cold moist Sea-Air.
Secre.
He's strangely troubled.
[Aside.
Const.
No Messenger this Morning from my Son?
Secre.
Not any yet, my Lord.
Const.
Where's the Gentleman,
Who came last Night?
Secre.
I do not know, my Lord.
Const.
What did he say? When will my Son be here?
Secre.
He said (my Lord) his Excellence, was resolv'd
To be at Court this Afternoon at farthest.
3
His Excellence! his Excellence is an Ass:
[Aside.
A Fellow full of Honesty, Morality,
Of Loyalty, Philosophy, and Foolery:
But I have laid a Bait to try his Morals.
Ha! Knocking.
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Count La Force, my Lord, desires
Admission to your Lordship.
Const.
Bring him in.
Enter La Force.
Const.
Friend, you astonish me! how dare you approach
The unhealthy shade of an old blasted Tree?
None come to me, but he who wants a Gibbet:
And fain would hang himself the decent'st way.
La For.
I was your Friend, my Lord, when you were honest,
No sordid Flatterer of Tyranny:
Before you climb'd the Mountains of Advancement,
To feed on Winds, as Spanish Horses do.
Const.
My Lord, you love those Winds as much as I do;
And hate the Fogs, that haunt the dirty Vales.
La For.
That Dirt is bred by Tempests from above,
From Clouds of Tyranny, where you have liv'd,
And torn the Kingdom by the thundring power
Of Constable of France.
Const.
You wou'd ha' mounted
To the same Clouds, and made a Marshal's Staff,
A Witches Staff, to carry you aloft,
Cou'd you ha' got one: but you were deni'd it.
The King might cheaper have burnt all his Forests,
Than sav'd that Staff: for you, and your good Friends.
Set in revenge the Kingdom in a Flame.
La For.
I made that Fire to melt down all our Chains,
4
Const.
Hence with dissembling, we know one another.
You and I wou'd not care our Countrymen
Were all to Horses turn'd, so we might ride 'em.
La For.
I do deny 't; I hate to ride my Country.
Const.
But I hate more my Country should be ridden
By Cowards in the Army, Fools in Council.
Who can endure to see the honest Industries
Of many scores of men plunder'd by Law,
To feed a Fool, who is not half a Man?
La For.
Well, is Brisac the Dauphin's Favourite,
To have your Offices?
Const.
So 'tis design'd.
La For.
Cannot your Son, the King's great Favourite,
Whom he created lately Duke of Vendosme,
Assist you?
Const.
He!—A studious, moral Fool,
A Moth, who has so long been fed on Books,
His Skin is Paper, and his Blood is Ink.
Insensible of all delights of Man.
La For.
Of all!
Const.
Almost of all.
La For.
What does he love?
Const.
Only his Book, his Friend, his Honesty.
And when the King, and Kingdom have occasion,
He love's his Sword; else it might rust for ever:
He would not draw it to procure himself
The Empire of the World; he says, He needs it not.
And he call's him a miserable Wretch,
Who needs the Universe to make him happy.
La For.
His temper differs much from yours.
Const.
From mine!
He walks directly backwards from my Steps.
I wonder in what posture I begot him:
Or in what humour: Surely I was thinking
Of something else; and if I was, I cannot
5
Like Alpheus through the Sea, and never season
Himself with any relish of my Nature.
La For.
Sure he rush'd from you in a mighty Torrent.
Const.
Rather I threw him from me with abhorrence.
La For.
Then you can hope for little aid from him.
Const.
Oh! Yes, I have observ'd in my Philosophy,
Nature, an Enemy to Tyranny,
Doe's alwaies leave some tender place unguarded
About unmatchable vast harnest Animals,
Where Death may give the World revenge and freedom.
So this proud Fellow's Spirit, more invincible
Than Whales, than Crocodiles, or Elephants,
Ha's a soft place, his Heart, which has been wounded
By the small Needles of a Woman's Eye.
La For.
Then doe's he love?
Const.
He does.
La For.
Whom, for Heaven's sake?
Const.
She whom all love, that wonder of the World
Madamoiselle de Guise.
La For.
that beautious Creature?
And what success ha's he?
Const.
They are contracted.
La For.
And no one hear of it?
Const.
He keep's it secret,
I know not why, but such ha's been his humour.
La For.
And what of this?
Const.
The Dauphin is his Rival.
La For.
Ha! Then is she the talk't of hidden Beauty,
The Dauphin make's secret addresses to?
Const.
The same.
La For.
Good Heaven! What doe's the Dauphin mean,
Is not the match with Burgundy concluded?
Const.
It is, and therefore is this kept so secret
By the King's strict Commands; who strove to break it,
But cou'd not.
6
How came you to find it out?
Const.
A Servant of my own happen'd to love
Madamoiselle's chief Woman, and sole Confident;
Whom I perceiving always vext and thoughtful
With a Face full of Guilt, strictly examin'd,
And got it out of him; and how his Mistriss
And he design'd to ruin my Son's Interest,
And raise their Fortunes by this greater Marriage.
La For.
Here was a Mine cut to your Hand already.
Const.
It was: I pardon'd him, bid him proceed,
Because he serv'd in it his Prince the Dauphin,
And I woul'd join with 'em. Whilst I was plotting;
Fortune which always take's into her Favour
A hundred Villains for one honest Man,
Gave my Design a noble rise: brought news
To Court, that whilst my Son quartered at Metz,
He and the fair young Princess of Lorrain,
Had charm'd each other.
La For.
This inconstancy,
Wou'd enrage Madamoiselle de Guise to madness,
For she is the haughtiest young Woman living.
Const.
Yes, had you seen her Letters you wou'd say so.
My Instrument, her Woman, always brought 'em to me,
I'de see if they were fit to go; at opening 'em
I thought I had untied a Witch's knot,
And let a Tempest out.
La For.
And you I warrant
Answer'd these Letters, in your Son's hand counterfeited.
Const.
Exactly guess'd: I stop't the good Fool's Letters,
Wherein the Wretch prov'd himself very innocent;
And in their room, I sent my forged ones to her;
Wherein I made my Son own the inconstancy;
Desire a mutual release of Vows.
He wou'd give her the Glories of the Dauphin,
If she'd give him the beauties of his Princess.
La For.
Did she not tear the Letters, and her Hair?
7
Yes, and her Flesh, and to compleat her madness,
I brib'd some cowardly Officers, my Son
Had thrown out of his Army, to attest
All my false Letters said; and more, how he
Spoke of her openly with much contempt.
La For.
Was ever a design manag'd like this?
The Dauphin after this, sure had small difficulty
To press her to accept his Love and Glory.
Const.
That you may guess.
La For.
What? are they married then?
Const.
They were the other night, in such great Privacy,
The King scarce know's it yet.
La Force.
But can the Dauphin's
Amour be wholly hidden from your Son?
Const.
No, but he nere distrusts his Mistriss's falshood;
He only think's her jealous; and sent Messengers
T'appease her anger, whom she wou'd not see.
La For.
Most excellent!
Const.
Now when my Son returns,
I will charge all my tricks upon the Dauphin;
Nay more, perhaps I'le say, he whore's the Lady.
And then the Dauphin envie's him, and hate's him,
For sawcily outshining him in Arms.
Fortune ha's had so very little manners
To slight the Dauphin, and attend my Son.
La For.
Here are most gallant hopes of a Rebellion.
Const.
Brave hopes!
For I have spread such lies against the Government,
Have frighted all the people from their Wits,
I doubt not but in little time to beg
The Kingdom for a Fool, and be its Guardian.
La For.
I have a mind to be a doing again,
Though I've estate enough.
Const.
Oh! damn Estate!
'Tis useless without power to a great Mind.
What? I may keep a Table, and be popular;
8
If I cou'd cram an Ox in a Rogue's Jaws,
It would not gag him from detracting from me.
But I may compass Women; what o' that?
If they be newly shell'd from hanging Sleeves,
They are so tender that they have no taste:
So ignorant, they know not what to do with you.
If ripe, they know too well then what to do with you.
In short, Power is my pleasure.
Five hundred thousand Livers yearly flow
Into my Coffers; I have Palaces
Exceed the King's; yet now thrown out of Power,
I think my self a miserable Wretch.
Come, bear me Company an hour or two,
And see how I will flounder in my shallows,
Like a great Whale, I'le make 'em glad to give me
Sea-room enough, or I'le oreset the Kingdom.
I'le seem religious to be damndly wicked,
I'le act all villany by holy shews,
And that for piety on fools impose,
Set up all Faiths, that so there may be none,
And make Religion throw Religion down.
I will seem Loyal, the more Rogue to be,
And ruine the King by his own authority:
Pretending men from Tyranny to save,
I will the foolish credulous World enslave.
Exit.
| The Ambitious Statesman, or the Loyal Favourite | |