University of Virginia Library

Actus primi

Scæna prima.

Enter Baligny, Renel.
Baligny.
To what will this declining Kingdome turne,
Swindging in euery license, as in this
Stupide permission of braue D'Ambois Murther?
Murther made paralell with Law? Murther vs'd
To serue the Kingdome, giuen by sute to men
For their aduancement? suffered scarcrow-like
To fright adulterie? what will policie
At length bring vnder his capacitie?

Rene.
All things: for as when the high births of Kings
Deliuerances, and Coronations,
We celebrate with all the Cities Bels
(Iangling together in vntun'd confusion:)
All order'd Clockes are tyed vp: so when Glory,
Flatterie, and smooth applauses of things ill,
Vphold th'mordinate swindge of downe-right power,
Iustice, and truth, that tell the bounded vse,
Vertuous, and well distinguisht formes of Time,
Are gag'd and tongue-tide, but wee haue obseru'd
Rule in more regular motion: things most lawfull
Were once most royall, Kings sought common good
Mens manly liberties, though ne'er so meane,
And had their owne swindge so: more free, and more,
But when pride enter'd them, and Rule by power,
All browes that smil'd beneath them, frown'd; hearts grieu'd,
By imitation; vertue quite was vanisht,
And all men studi'd selfe-loue, fraud, and vice,
Then no man could be good but he was punisht:
Tyrants being still more fearefull of the good
Then of the bad; their subiects vertues euer
Manag'd with curbs, and dangers, and esteem'd
As shadowes, and detractions to their owne.

Bal.
Now all is peace, no danger: now what followes?
Idlenesse rusts vs; since no vertuous labour
Ends ought rewarded: Ease, Securitie
Now all the Palme weares, wee made warre before
So to preuent warre, men with giuing gifts
More then receiuing, made our Countrey strong;
Our matchlesse race of Souldiers then would spend
In publike warres, not priuate brawles, their spirits;
In daring Enemies, arm'd with meanest armes;
Not courting strumpets, and consuming birth-rights
In Apishnesse, and enuy of attire.
No labour then was harsh, no way so deepe,
No rocke so steepe, but if a Bird could scale it,
Vp would our youth flie to. A Foe in armes
Stirr'd vp a much more lust of his encounter,
Then of a Mistresse neuer so be-painted:
Ambition then, was onely scaling walles;
And ouer-topping turrets: Fame was wealth;
Best parts, best deedes, were best Nobilitie;
Honour with worth; and wealth well got or none.
Countries we wonne with as few men as Countries.
Vertue subdu'd all.

Ren.
Iust: and then our Nobles
Lou'd vertue so, they prais'd and vs'd it to;
Had rather doe, then say; their owne deedes hearing
By others glorified, then be so barraine,
That their parts onely stood in praising others.

Bal.
Who could not doe, yet prais'd, and enui'd not;
Ciuile behauiour flourisht; Bountie flow'd,
Auarice to vpland Boores, slaues hang-men banisht.

Ren.
Tis now quite otherwise; but to note the cause
Of all these foule digressions, and reuolts
From our first natures, this tis in a word:
Since good Arts faile, crafts and deceits are vs'd:
Men ignorant are idle; idle men
Most practise what they most may doe with ease,
Fashion, and fauour; all their studies ayming
At getting money, which no wise man euer
Fed his desires with.

Bal.
Yet now none are wise
That thinke not heauens true foolish, weigh'd with that.
Well thou most worthy to be greatest Guise,
Make with thy greatnesse a new world arise.
Such deprest Nobles (followers of his)
As you, my selfe, my Lord will finde a time
When to reuenge your wrongs.

Ren.
I make no doubt:
In meane time, I could wish, the wrong were righted
Of your slaine Brother in law, braue Bussy D'Ambois.

Bal.
That one accident was made my charge.
My Brother Bussy's Sister (now my wife)
By no suite would consent to satisfie
My loue of her, with marriage, till I vow'd,
To vse my vtmost to reuenge my Brother:
But Clermont D'Ambois (Bussy's second Brother)
Had (since) his apparition, and excitement,
To suffer none but his hand in his wreake,
Which hee hath vow'd, and so will needes acquite
Me of my vow, made to my wife, his Sister,
And vndertake himselfe Bully's reuenge;
Yet loathing any way to giue it act,
But in the noblest and most manly course.
(If th'Earle dares take it) he resolues to send
A Challenge to him, and my selfe must beare it,
To which deliuerie I can vse no meanes;
He is so barricado'd in his house,
And arm'd with guard still.

Ren.
That meanes lay on mee,
Which I can strangely make. My last lands sale,
By his great suite, stands now on price with him,
And hee (as you know) passing couetous,
(With that blinde greedinesse that followes gaine)
Will cast no danger, where her sweet feete tread.
Besides, you know, his Lady by his suite,
(Wooing as freshly, as when first loue shot
His faultlesse arrowes from her rosie eyes)
Now liues with him againe, and shee, I know,
Will ioyne with all helps, in her friends reuenge.

Bal.
No doubt (my Lord) and therefore let me pray you
To vse all speede; for so on needels points
My wifes heart stands with haste of the reuenge:
Being (as you know) full of her brothers fire,
That shee imagines I neglect my vow;
Keepes off her kinde embraces, and still askes;
When, when, will this reuenge come? when perform'd
Will this dull vow be? And I vow to Heauen
So sternely, and so past her sexe she vrges
My vowes performance; that I almost feare
To see her, when I haue a while beene absent,
Not showing her before I speake, the bloud
She so much thirsts for, freckling hands and face,

Ren.
Get you the Challenge writ, and looke from me,
To heare your passage clear'd no long time after.

Exit Ren.
Bal.
All restitution to your worthiest Lordship,
Whose errand I must carrie to the King,
As hauing sworne my seruice in the search
Of all such Malecontents, and their designes,
By seeming one affected with their faction,
And discontented humours gainst the state:
Nor doth my brother Clermont scape my counsaile
Giuen to the King, about his Guisean greatnesse,
Which (as I spice it) hath possest the King
(Knowing his daring spirit) of much danger:
Charg'd in it to his person: though my conscience
Dare sweare him cleare of any power to be
Infected with the least dishonestie:
Yet that sinceritie, wee Politicians
Must say, growes out of enuie, since it cannot
Aspire to policies greatnesse: and the more
We worke on all respects of kinde, and vertue,
The more our seruice to the King seemes great,
In sparing no good that seemes bad to him:
And the more bad, we make the most of good,
The more our policie searcheth; and our seruice
Is wonder'd at for wisedome and sincerenesse.
Tis easie to make good suspected still,
Where good, and God, are made but cloakes for ill.
See Monsieur taking now his leaue for Brabant,
Enter Henry, Monsieur, Guise, Clerm Espernone, Foisson. Monsieur taking leaue of the King.
The Guise, & his deare Minion, Clermont D'Ambois,
Whispering together, not of state affaires
I durst lay wages, (though the Guise be now
In chiefe heate of his faction) but of some thing,
Sauouring of that which all men else despise,
How to be truely noble, truely wise.

Mors.
See how hee hangs vpon the eare of Guise,
Like to his Iewell.

Esper.
Hee's now whisp'ring in
Some doctrine of stabilitie, and freedome,
Contempt of outward greatnesse, and the guises
That vulgar great ones make their pride and zeale,
Being onely seruile traines, and sumptuous houses,
High places, offices.

Mons.
Contempt of these
Does he read to the Guise? Tis passing needfull,
And hee, I thinke, makes show t'affect his doctrine.

Esp.
Commends, admires it.

Mons.
And pursues another,
Tis fine hypocrisie, and cheape, and vulgar,
Knowne for a couert practise, yet beleeu'd
(By those abus'd soules, that they teach and gouerne)
No more then Wiues adulteries, by their Husbands,
They bearing it with so vnmou'd aspects,
Hot comming from it; as twere not all,
Or made by custome nothing. This same D'Ambois
Hath gotten such opinion of his vertues,
(Holding all learning but an Art to liue well,)
And showing hee hath learn'd it, in his life,
Being thereby strong in his perswading others;
That this ambitious Guise, embracing him,
Is thought t'mbrace his vertues.

Esp.
Yet in some
His vertues are held false for th'others vices:
For tis more cunning held, and much more common,
To suspect truth then falshood: and of both,
Truth still fares worse; as hardly being beleeu'd,
As tis vnvsuall, and rarely knowne.

Mons.
Ile part engendring vertue. Men affirme
Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois spirit,
And breathes his brothers valour; yet his temper
Is so much past his, that you cannot moue him:
Ile try that temper in him. Come, you two
Deuoure each other with your vertues zeale,
And leaue for other friends, no fragment of yee:
I wonder Guise, you will thus rauish him
Out of my bosome, that first gaue the life
His manhood breathes, spirit, and meanes and luster.
What doe men thinke of me, I pray thee Clermont?
Once giue me leaue (for tryall of that loue
That from thy brother Bussy thou inherit'st)
T'vnclaspe thy bosome.

Cler.
As how sir?

Mons.
Be a true glasse to mee, in which I may
Behold what thoughts the many headed-beast,
And thou thy selfe breathes out concerning me,
My ends, and new vpstarted state in Brabant,
For which I now am bound, my higher aymes,
Imagin'd here in France: speake man, and let
Thy words be borne as naked as thy thoughts:
O were braue Bussy liuing!

Cler.
Liuing my Lord?

Mons.
Tis true, thou art his brother, but durst thou
Haue brau'd the Guise: mauger his presence, courted
His wedded Lady; emptied euen the dregs
Of his worst thoughts of mee, euen to my teeth;
Discern'd not me his rising soueraigne
From any common groome: but let me heare
My grossest faults, as grosse-full as they were.
Durst thou doe this?

Cler.
I cannot tell: A man
Does neuer know the goodnesse of his stomacke
Till hee sees meate before him. Were I dar'd,
Perhaps as he was, I durst doe like him.

Mons.
Dare then to poure out here thy freest soule,
Of what I am.

Cler.
Tis stale, he tolde you it.

Mons.
He onely iested, spake of splene and enuie;
Thy soule more learn'd, is more ingenuous,
Searching, iudiciall; let me then from thee
Heare what I am.

Cler.
What but the sole support,
And most expectant hope of all our France,
The toward victor of the whole low Countryes?

Mons.
Tush, thou wilt sing Encomions of my praise.
Is this like D'Ambois? I must vexe the Guise,
Or neuer looke to heare free truth; tell me,
For Bussy liues not: hee durst anger mee,
Yet for my loue, would not haue fear'd to anger
The King himselfe. Thou vnderstand'st me, dost not?

Cler.
I shall my Lord, with studie.

Mons.
Dost vnderstand thyselfe? I pray thee tell me,
Dost neuer search thy thoughts, what my designe
Might be to entertaine thee and thy brother?
What turne I meant to serue with you?

Cler.
Euen what you please to thinke.

Mons.
But what thinkst thou?
Had I no end in't think'st?

Cler.
I thinke you had.

Mons.
When I tooke in such two as your two were,
A ragged couple of decaid Commanders,
When a French-crowne would plentifully serue
To buy you both to anything i'th' earth.

Cler.
So it would you:

Mons.
Nay bought you both out-right,
You and your Trunkes: I feare me, I offend thee.

Cler.
No not a iot.

Mons.
The most renowmed Souldier
Epaminondas (as good Authors say)
Had no more suites then backes, but you two shar'd
But one suite twixt you both, when both your studies
Were not what meate to dine with; if your Partridge,
Your Snipe, your Wood-cocke, Larke, or your red Hering,
But where to begge it, whether at my house,
Or at the Guises (for you know you were
Ambitious beggars,) or at some Cookes-shop,
T'eternize the Cookes trust, and score it vp.
Dost not offend thee?

Cler.
No sir. Pray proceede.

Mons.
As for thy Gentry, I dare boldly take
Thy honourable othe: and yet some say
Thou and thy most renowmed noble Brother,
Came to the Court first in a Keele of Sea-coale;
Dost not offend thee?

Cler.
Neuer doubt it, sir.

Mons.
Why doe I loue thee then? why haue I rak'd thee
Out of the dung-hill? cast my cast Ward-robe on thee?
Brought thee to Court to, as I did thy Brother?
Made yee my sawcy bon companions?
Taught yee to call our greatest Noble men
By the corruption of their names; Iack, Tom?
Haue I blowne both for nothing to this bubble?
Though thou art learn'd; thast no enchanting wit.
Or were thy wit good, am I therefore bound
To keepe thee for my Table?

Cler.
Well, Sir, 'twere
A good Knights place. Many a proud dubb'd Gallant
Seekes out a poore Knights liuing from such Emrods.
Or what vse else should I designe thee to?
Perhaps you'll answere me, to be my Pander.

Cler.
Perhaps I shall.

Mons.
Or did the slie Guise put thee
Into my bosome, t'vndermine my proiects?
I feare thee not; for though I be not sure
I haue thy heart, I know thy braine-pan yet
To be as emptie as dull piece of wainscot
As euer arm'd the scalpe of any Courtier;
A fellow onely that consists of sinewes;
Meere Swisser, apt for any execution.

Cler.
But killing of the King.

Mon.
Right: now I see
Thou vnderstand'st thy selfe.

Cler.
I, and you better.
You are a Kings sonne borne.

Mons.
Right.

Cler.
And a Kings brother.

Mons.
True.

Cler.
And might not any foole haue beene so too,
As well as you?

Mons.
A poxe vpon you.

Cler.
You did no Princely deedes
Ere you're borne (I take it) to deserue it;
Nor did you any since that I haue heard;
Nor will doe euer any, as all thinke.

Mons.
The Diuell take him. Ile no more of him.

Guise.
Nay: stay my Lord, and heare him answere you.

Mons.
No more I sweare. Farewell.

Ex. Mons. Esper. Sois.
Guise.
No more: Ill fortune.
I would haue giuen a million to haue heard
His scoffes retorted: and the insolence
Of his high birth and greatnesse (which were neuer
Effects of his deserts, but of his fortune)
Made show to his dull eyes, beneath the worth
That men aspire to by their knowing vertues,
Without which Greatnesse is a shade, a bubble.

Cler.
But what one great man dreames of that, but you?
All take their births and birth-rights left to them
(Acquir'd by others) for their owne worths purchase,
When many a foole in both, is great as they:
And who would thinke they could winne with their worths
Wealthy possessions, when wonne to their hands,
They neyther can iudge iustly of their value,
Nor know their vse; and therefore they are puft
With such proud tumours as this Monsieur is:
Enabled onely by the goods they haue,
To scorne all goodnesse: none great, fill their fortunes,
But as those men that make their houses greater,
Their housholds being lesse, so Fortune raises
Huge heapes of out-side in these mightie men,
And giues them nothing in them.

Guise.
True as truth:
And therefore they had rather drowne their substance
In superfluities of brickes and stones;
(Like Sysiphus, aduancing of them euer,
And euer pulling downe) then lay the cost
Of any sluttish corner, on a man,
Built with Gods finger, and enstil'd his Temple.

Bal.
Tis nobly said, my Lord.

Guise.
I would haue these things
Brought vpon Stages, to let mightie Misers
See all their graue and serious miseries, plaid,
As once they were in Athens, and olde Rome.

Cler.
Nay, we must now haue nothing brought on Stages,
But puppetry, and pide ridiculous Antickes:
Men thither come, to laugh, and feede foole-fat,
Checke at all goodnesse there, as being prophan'd:
When wheresoeuer goodnesse comes, shee makes
The place still sacred; though with other feete
Neuer so much tis scandal'd, and polluted.
Let me learne any thing that fits a man,
In any Stables showne, as well as Stages.

Bal.
Why? is not all the world esteem'd a Stage?

Cler.
Yes: and right worthily: and Stages too
Haue a respect due to them: if but onely,
For what the good Greeke Moralists sayes of them;
Is a man proud of greatnesse, or of riches?
Giue me an expert Actor; Ile shew all,
That can within his greatest glory fall.
Is a man fraid with pouertie and lownesse?
Giue me an Actor, Ile shew euery eye
What hee laments so, and so much doth flye,
The best and worst of both: if but for this then,
To make the proudest out-side that most swels,
With things without him, and aboue his worth,
See how small cause hee has to be so blowne vp;
And the most poore man, to be grieu'd with poorenesse,
Both being so easily borne by expert Actors.
The Stage and Actors are not so contemptfull,
As euery innouating Puritane,
And ignorant sweater out of zealous enuie,
Would haue the world imagine. And besides,
That all things haue beene likened to the mirth,
Vs'd vpon Stages, and for Stages fitted.
The splenatiue Philosopher that euer
Laught at them all, were worthy the enstaging:
All obiects, were they ne'er so full of teares,
He so conceited, that he could distill thence
Matter that still fed his ridiculous humour.
Heard he a Lawyer, neuer so vehement pleading,
Hee stood and laught. Heard hee a Trades-man swearing
Neuer so thriftily (selling of his wares;)
Hee stood and laught. Heard hee an holy brother,
For hollow ostentation at his prayers
Ne'er so impetuously; hee stood and laught.
Saw hee a great man neuer so insulting,
Seuerely inflicting, grauely giuing lawes,
Not for their good, but his; hee stood and laught.
Saw hee a youthful widow
Neuer so weeping, wringing of her hands,
For her lost Lord, still the Philosopher laught:
Now whether hee suppos'd all these presentments,
Were onely maskeries, and wore false faces:
Or else were simply vaine, I take no care,
But still hee laught, how graue soere they were.

Guise.
And might right well (my Glermont) and for this
Vertuous digression, wee vvill thanke the scoffes
Of vicious Monsieur. But now for the maine point
Of your late resolution for reuenge
Of your slaine friend.

Cler.
I haue here my Challenge,
Which I will pray my Brother Baligny
To beare the murtherous Earle.

Bal.
I haue prepar'd
Meanes for accesse to him, through all his Guard.

Guise.
About it then, my worthy Baligny,
And bring vs the successe.

Bal.
I will my Lord.

Exeunt.
Tamyra sola.
Tamy.
Reuenge, that euer red sitt'st in the eyes
Of iniur'd Ladies, till we crowne thy browes
With bloudy Lawrell; and receiue from thee
Iustice for all our humors iniurie,
Whose wings none flye, that Wrath or Tyrannie
Haue ruthlesse made, and bloudy. Enter here,
Enter, O enter: and, though length of time
Neuer lets any scape thy constant iustice,
Yet now preuent that length. Flye, flye, and here
Fixe thy steele foot-steps: Here, O here, where still
Earth (mou'd with pittie) yeelded and embrac'd
My Loues faire figure, drawne in his deare bloud,
And mark'd the place, to show thee where was done
The cruell'st murther that ere fled the Sunne.
O Earth! why keep'st thou not as well his spirit,
To giue his forme life? No, that was not earthly:
That (rarefying the thinne and yeelding ayre)
Flew sparkling vp into the Sphære of fire,
Whence endlesse flames it sheds in my desire:
Here be my daily pallet, here all nights
That can be wrested from thy riuals armes;
(O my deare Bussy) I will lye, and kisse
Spirit into thy bloud, or breathe out mine
In sighes, and kisses, and sad tunes to thine.

She sings.
Enter Mont sur.
Mont.
Still on this hant? Still shall adulterous bloud
Affect thy spirits? Thinke, for shame, but this,
This bloud that Cockatrice-like thus thou brood'st
To dry is to breede any quench to thine.
And therefore now (if onely for thy lust
A little couer'd with a vaile of shame)
Looke out for fresh life, rather then witch-like,
Learne to kisse horror, and with death engender.
Strange crosse in nature, purest virgine shame
Lies in the bloud, as lust lyes; and together
Many times mixe too: and in none more shamefull
Then in the shamefac't. Who can then distinguish
Twixt their affections; or tell when hee meetes
With one not common? Yet, as worthiest Poets
Shunne common and plebeian formes of speech,
Euery illiberall and affected-phrase
To clothe their matter: and together tye
Matter and forme, with Art and decencie.
So worthiest women should shunne vulgar guises,
And though they cannot but flye out for change,
Yet modestie, the matter of their liues,
Be it adulterate, should be painted true
With modest out-parts; what they should doe still
Grac'd with good show, though deedes be ne'er so ill.

Tamy.
That is so farre from all yee seeke of vs,
That (though your selues be common as the ayre)
We must not take the ayre, wee must not fit
Our actions to our owne affections:
But as Geometricians (you still say)
Teach that no lines, nor superficies,
Doe moue themselues, but still accompanie
The motions of their bodies; so poore wiues
Must not pursue, nor haue their owne affections,
But to their husbands earnests, and their iests,
To their austerities of lookes, and laughters,
(Though ne'er so foolish and iniurious)
Like Parasites and slaues, fit their disposures.

Mont.
I vsde thee as my soule, to moue, and rule me.

Tamy.
So said you, when you woo'd. So Souldiers tortur'd
With tedious sieges of some wel-wall'd Towne,
Propound conditions of most large contents,
Freedome of Lawes, all former gouernment;
But hauing once set foote within the Wals,
And got the reynes of power into their hands,
Then doe they tyrannize at their owne rude swindges,
Seaze all their goods, their liberties, and liues,
And make aduantage, and their lusts, their lawes.

Mons.
But loue me, and performe a Wifes part yet,
(With all my loue before) I sweare forgiuenesse.

Tamy.
Forgiuenesse! that grace you should seeke of mee:
These tortur'd fingers, and these stab'd-through armes
Keepe that law in their vvounds yet, vnobseru'd,
And euer shall.

Mons.
Remember their deserts.

Tam.
Those vvith faire warnings might haue beene reform'd,
Not these vnmanly rages. You haue heard
The fiction of the North winde and the Sunne,
Both vvorking on a Traueller, and contending
Which had most power to take his cloake from him:
Which when the Winde attempted, hee roar'd out
Outragious blasts at him to force it off,
That vvrapt it closer on. When the calme Sunne
(The Winde once leauing) charg'd him vvith still beames,
Quiet, and feruent, and therein was constant,
Which made him cast off both his cloake and coate:
Like vvhom should men doe. If yee vvish your Wiues
Should leaue dislik'd things, seeke it not vvith rage;
For that enrages: vvhat yee giue, yee haue:
But vse calme warnings, and kinde manly meanes,
And that in Wiues most prostitute will winne
Not onely sure amends; but make vs Wiues
Better then those that ne'er led faultie liues.

Enter a Souldier.
Sould.
My Lord.

Mons.
How now; vvould any speake with me?

Soul.
I, Sir.

Mons.
Peruerse, and traiterous miscreant:
Where are your other fellowes of my Guard?
Haue I not told you, I will speake with none,
But Lord Renel?

Sould.
And tis hee that stayes you.

Mons.
O, is it he? Tis well: attend him in.
I must be vigilant: the Furies haunt mee.
Doe you heare dame?

Enter Renel, with the Souldier.
Ren.
Be true now, for your Ladies iniur'd sake,
Whose bountie you haue so much cause to honour:
For her respect is chiefe in this designe,
And therefore serue it, call out of the vvay
All your confederate fellowes of his Guard,
Till Monsieur Baligny be enter'd here.

Sould.
Vpon your honour, my Lord shall be free
From any hurt you say.

Ren.
Free as my selfe. Watch then, and cleare his entrie.

Sould.
I will not faile, my Lord.

Exit Souldier.
Ren.
God saue your Lordship.

Mons.
My noblest Lord Renel! past all men welcome.
Wife, vvelcome is Lordship.

Osculatur.
Ren.
I much ioy in your returne here.

Tamy.
You doe more then I.

Mons.
Shee's passionate still, to thinke we euer parted,
By my too sterne iniurious Ielousie.

Ren.
Tis well your Lordship will confesse your errour
In so good time yet.

Enter Baligny with a Challenge.
Mons.
Death! Who haue wee here?
Ho! Guard! Villaines!

Bal.
Why exclaime you so.

Mons.
Negligent Trayters! Murther, murther, murther.

Bal.
Ye'are mad. Had mine entent beene so, like yours,
It had beene done ere this.

Ren.
Sir, your intent,
And action too, was rude to enter thus.

Bal.
Y'are a decaid Lord to tell me of rudenesse,
As much decaid in manners as in meanes.

Ren.
You talke of manners, that thus rudely thrust
Vpon a man that's busie with his Wife.

Bal.
And kept your Lordship then the dore.

Ren.
The dore?

Mont.
Sweet Lord forbeare. Show, show your purpose sir.
To moue such bold feete into others roofes.

Bal.
This is my purpose sir, from Clermont D'Ambois
I bring this Challenge.

Mon.
Challenge! Ile touch none.

Bal.
Ile leaue it here then.

Ren.
Thou shalt leaue thy life first.

Mont.
Murther, murther!

Ren.
Retire my Lord; get off.
Hold, or thy death shall hold thee. Hence my Lord.

Bal.
There lye the Chalenge.

They all fight and Bal. driues in Mont. Exit Mont.
Ren.
Was not this well handled?

Bal.
Nobly my Lord. All thankes.

Exit Bal.
Tamy.
Ile make him reade it.

Exit Tamy.
Ren.
This was a sleight well maskt. O what is man,
Vnlesse he be a Politician!

Exit.