 | The Noble Gentleman |  |
Actus Tertius.
Enter Cousen and Iaques.Cous.
Shall I beleeve thee Iaques.
35
Sir you may.
Cous.
Didst thou not dreame?
Ja.
I did not.
Coz.
Nor imagine?
Ja.
Neither of both: I saw him great and mighty,
I saw the Monsieurs bow, and heard them cry
Good health and fortune to my Lord the Duke.
Cous.
A Duke art sure? a Duke?
Ja.
I am sure a Duke,
And so sure as I know my selfe for Jaques.
Cous.
Yet the sun may dazell? Jaques, was it not
Some leane Commander of an angry Block-house
To keep the sleamish Eele-boats from invasion,
Or some bold Baron able to dispend
His fifty pounds a yeare, and meet the foe
Upon the Kings command in gilded canvas,
And do his deeds of worth? or was it not
Some place of gaine, as Clerk to the great Band
Of maribones, that people call the Switzers?
Men made of beufe, and sarcenet?
Ja.
Is a Duke his chamber hung with Nobles like a presence?
Cous.
I am something wavering in my faith;
Would you would settle me, and sweare 'tis so,
Is he a Duke indeed?
Ja.
I sweare he is.
Cous.
I am satisfied, he is my Kinsman-Jaques,
And I his poor unworthy Couzen.
Ja.
True Sir.
Cous.
I might have been a Duke too, I had meanes,
A wife as faire as his, and as wise as his;
And could have brookt the Court as well as his,
And laid about her for her husbands honour:
O Jaques had I ever dreamt of this,
I had prevented him.
Ja.
Faith Sir it came
Above our expectation, we were wise
Only in seeking to undoe this honour,
Which shewed our dung-hill breeding and our durt.
Cous.
But tell me Iaques,
Why could we not perceive? what dull Divell
Wrought us to crosse this noble course, perswading
'Twould be his overthrow? for me a Courtier
Is he that knows all, Iaques, and does all,
'Tis as his noble Grace hath often said,
And very wisely, Jaques, we are fooles,
And understand just nothing.
Ia.
I, as we were, I confesse it.
But rising with our great Master,
We shall be call'd to knowledge with our places,
'Tis nothing to be wise, not thus much there,
Ther's not the least of the billet dealers,
Nor any of the Pastry, or the Kitchin,
But have it in measure delicate.
Coz.
Me thinks this greatness of the Dukes my Couzens
(I aske you mercy, Iaques, that near name
Is too familiar for me) should give promise
Of some great benefits to his attendants.
Ja.
I have a suite my selfe, and it is sure,
Or I mistake my ends much.
Cous.
What is't Iaques,
May I not crave the place?
Ja.
Yes Sir you shall,
'Tis to be but his Graces Secretary,
Which is my little all, and my ambition,
Till my known worth shall take me by the hand
And set me higher; how the fates may do
In this poor threed of life is yet uncertaine;
I was not born I take it for a trencher,
Nor to espouse my Mistris Dairy-maid.
Cous.
I am resolv'd my wife shall up to Court;
I'le furnish her, that is a speeding course,
And cannot chuse but breed a mighty fortune;
What a fine youth was I, to let him start,
And get the rise before me? I'le dispatch
And put my selfe in moneys.
Ja.
Masse 'tis true,
And now you talke of money, Sir my businesse
For taking those Crowns must be dispatcht;
This litle plot in the Countrey lies most fit
To do his Grace such serviceable uses,
I must about it.
Cous.
Yet before you goe
Give me your hand, and bear my humble service
To the great Duke your Master, and his Duchesse,
And live your selfe in favour: say my wife
Shall there attend them shortly, so farewell.
Ja.
I'le see you mounted Sir.
Cous.
It may not be,
Your place is far above it, spare your selfe,
And know I am your servant, fare ye well.
Exit Cousen.
Ja.
Sir I shall rest to be commanded by you;
This place of Secretary will not content me,
I must be more and greater, let me see,
To be a Baron is no such great matter
As people take it: for say I were a Count,
I am still an under person to this Duke,
Which me thinks sounds but harshly: but a Duke?
O I am strangely taken, 'tis a Duke
Or nothing, I'le advise upont, and see
What may be done by wit and industry.
Exit.
Enter Wife, Longoveil, Bewford, Servants.
Wife.
It must be carried closely with a care
That no man speak unto him, or come near him
Without our private knowledge, or be made
Afore-hand to our practice:
My good husband
I shall entreat you now to stay a while,
And prove a noble coxcomb:
Gentlemen,
Your counsell and advice about this carriage.
Ser.
Alas good man, I do begin to mourn
His dire massacre: what a persecution
Is pouring down upon him? sure he is sinfull.
Long.
Let him be kept in's chamber under shew
Of state and dignity, and no man sufferd
To see his noble face, or have accesse,
But we that are Conspirators.
Bew.
Or else down with him into the countrey amongst his Tenants,
There he may live far longer in his greatnesse,
And play the foole in pomp amongst his fellows.
Wife.
No, he shall play the foole in the City, and stay
I will not loose the greatnesse of this jest
That shal be given to my wit for the whole revenues.
Ser.
Then thus wee'l have a guard about his person,
That no man come too neare him, and ourselves
Alwayes in company; have him into the City
To see his face swell; whilst in divers corners,
Some of our own appointing shall be ready
To cry heaven blesse your Grace, long live your Grace.
Wife.
Servant, your counsells excellent good,
And shall be followed, twill be rarely strange
To see him stated thus, as though he went
A shroving through the City, or intended
To set up some new stake:
I shall not hold
From open laughter when I heare him crye
36
Thy gracious lips: for this will be his phrases?
I feare me nothing but his legs will breake
Under his mighty weight of such a greatnesse.
Bew.
Now me thinks dearest Lady you are too cruell;
His very heart will freeze in knowing this.
Wife.
No, no, the man was never of such deepnesse
To make conceite his Master: Sir I'le assure ye
He will out-live twenty such pageants.
Were he but my Cozen or my Brother,
And such a desperate killer of his fortune,
In this beliefe he should dye, though it cost me
A thousand crowns a day to hold it up;
Or were I not known his wife, and so to have
An equall feeling of this ill he suffers,
He should be thus till all the boyes i'th Towne
Made sute to weare his badges in their hats,
And walke before his Grace with sticks and nose-gayes,
We married women hold—
Ser.
'Tis well, no more.
The Duke is entring, set your faces right,
And bow like Countrey prologues: here he comes.
Make roome afore, the Duke is entring.
Enter Duke.
Long.
The choicest fortunes waite upon our Duke,
Ser.
And give him all content and happinesse.
Bew.
Let his great name live to the end of time.
Duke.
We thank you, and are pleas'd to give you notice
We shall at fitter times wait on your Loves,
Till when, be neare Us.
Long.
'Tis a valiant purge, and works extreamly;
'T as delivered him
Of all Right worshipfull and gentle humours,
And left his belly full of noblenesse.
Du.
It pleased the King my Master
For sundry vertues not unknown to him,
And the all-seeing state, to lend his hand
And raise me to this Emminence, how this
May seeme to other men, or stir the mindes
Of such as are my fellow Peers, I know not,
I would desire their loves in just designes.
Wife.
Now by my faith he does well, very well:
Beshrew my heart I have not seen a better
Of a raw fellow, that before this day
Never rehearst his state: 'tis marvellous well.
Ser.
Is he not Duke indeed, see how he lookes
As if his spirit were a last, or two
Above his veines, and stretcht his noble hide.
Long.
Hee's high brac't like a drum, pray God he breake not.
Bew.
Why let him break, ther's but a Calves-skin lost.
Long.
May it please your Grace to see the City,
Twill be to the minds and much contentment
Of the doubtfull people.
Du.
I am determin'd so, till my returne
I leave my honoured Dutchesse to her chamber.
Be carefull of your health, I pray you be so.
Ser.
Your grace shall suffer us your humble servants
To give attendance fit so great a person
Upon your body.
Duke.
I am pleased so.
Long.
Away good Bewford, raise a guard sufficient
To keep him from the reach of tongues, be quicke;
And do you heare, remember how the streets
Must be dispos'd with for cryes, and salutations.
Your grace determines not to see the King—
Du.
Not yet, I shall be ready ten dayes hence
To kisse his highnesse hand, and give him thanks,
As it is fit I should for his great bounty
Set forward Goentlemen.
Groom.
Room for the Duke there.
Exeunt Duke & traine.
Wife.
'Tis fit he should have room to shew his mightinesse,
He swels so with his poyson,
'Tis better to reclaim ye thus, then make
A sheeps-head of you, It had been but your due;
But I have mercy Sir, and mean to reclaim you
By a directer course.
That woman is not worthy of a soule
That has the soveraign power to rule her husband,
And gives her title up, so long provided
As there be faire play, and his state not wrongd.
Enter Shattillion.
Shat.
I would be glad to know whence this new Duke springs,
The people buz abroad, or by what title
He received his dignity, 'tis very strange
There should be such close jugling in the State,
But I am tyed to silence, yet a day
May come, and soone to perfect all these doubts.
Wife.
It is the mad Shattillion by my soule
I suffer much for this poor Gentleman;
I'le speake to him, may be he yet knows me
Monsieur Shattillion.
Shat.
Can you give me reason from whence
This great Duke sprang that walkes abroad?
Wife.
Even from the King himselfe.
Shat.
As you are a woman, I think you may be coverd
Yet your prayer would do no harm good woman.
Wife.
God preserve him.
Enter Shattillions Love.
Shat.
I say Amen, and so say all good subjects.
Love.
Lady as ever you have lov'd, or shall,
As you have hope of heaven lend your hand,
And wit to draw this poore distracted man
Under your roofe from the broad eyes of people,
And wonder of the streets.
Wife.
With all my heart;
My feeling of his griefe and losse is much.
Love.
Sir now you are come so neare the prison, wil ye
Goe in, and visit your fair Love: poore soule
She would be glad to see you.
Shat.
This same Duke is but
Apocryphall, there's no creation
That can stand where titles are not right.
Love.
'Tis true Sir.
Shat.
This is another draught upon my life;
Let me examine well the words I spake.
The words I spake were, that this novell Duke
Is not ot'h true making, 'tis to me most certaine.
Wife.
You are as right Sir as you went by line.
Shat.
And to the griefe of many thousands more.
Wife.
If there be any such, God comfort them.
Shat.
Whose mouths may open when the time shall please;
I'me betraid, commend me to the King,
And tell him I am sound, and crave but justice;
You shall not need to have your guard upon me,
Which I am sure are plac'd for my attachment;
Lead on; I'm obedient to my bonds.
Love.
Good Sir be not displeased with us;
We are but servants to his highnesse will,
To make that good.
Shat.
I doe forgive you even with my heart;
Shall I entreat a favour?
Wife.
Any thing.
Shat.
To see my love before that fatall stroake,
And publish to the world my christian death,
And true obedience to the Crown of France.
Love.
I hope it shall not need Sir, for there is mercy
37
Exeunt.
Enter three Gentlemen.
1 Gen.
Every man take his corner, here am I,
You there, and you in that place, so be perfect,
Have a great care your cryes be loud; and faces
Full of dejected feare and humblenesse.
He comes.
Enter Jaques.
Ja.
Fye how these streets are charg'd and swell'd
With these fame rascally people? give more room,
Or I shall have occasion to distribute
A martial almes amongst you; as I am a Gentleman
I have not seen such rude disorder,
They follow him like a prize, there's no true gaper
Like to your Citizen, he will be sure
The beares shall not passe by his door in peace,
But he and all his family will follow.
Roome there afore? Sound?
Enter Duke and his company.
Ja.
Give roome, and keep your places
And you may see enough; keep your places.
Long.
These people are too far unmanner'd, thus
To stop your Graces way with multitudes.
Du.
Rebuke them not good Monsieur 'tis their loves
Which I will answer, if it please my stars
To spare me life and health.
2 Gen.
Blesse your Grace.
Du.
And you with all my heart.
1 Gen.
Now heaven preserve your happy days:
Du.
I thank you too.
3 Gen.
Now heaven save your Grace;
Du.
I thanke you all.
Bew.
On there before.
Du.
Stand Gentlemen, stay yet a while,
For I am minded to impart my love
To these good people, and my friends
Whose love and prayers for my greatnesse,
Are equall in abundance, note me well,
And with my words; my heart? for as the tree—
Long.
Your Grace had best beware, 'twill be inform'd
Your greatnesse with the people.
Duke.
I had more
My honest and ingenious people.—But
The weight of businesse hath prevented me.
I am call'd from you: but this tree I spake of
Shall bring forth fruit I hope to your content,
And so I share my bowels amongst you all.
Omnes.
A noble Duke, a very noble Duke.
Enter a Gentleman.
Ser.
Afore there Gentlemen.
Gen.
You'r faithfully met good Monsieur Mount Matine.
Ser.
Be advis'd, the time is alter'd.
Gen.
Is he not the same man he was afore?
Duke.
Still the same man to you Sir.
Long.
You have received mighty grace, be thankfull.
Gen.
Let me not dye in ignorance;
Long.
You shall not.
Then know the King out of his loue hath pleased
To stile him Duke of Burgundy.
Gen.
O great Duke,
Thus low, I plead for pardon, and desire
To be enrol'd amongst your poorest slaves.
Du.
Sir you have mercy, and withall my hand,
From henceforth let me call you one of mine.
Ser.
Make room afore there, and dismisse the people.
Du.
Every man to his house in peace and quiet.
Peop.
Now heaven preserve the Duke, heaven blesse the Duke.
Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Wife.
Wife.
This letter came this morn from my Cozen
To the great Lady, high and mighty Duchesse
Of Burgundy, be these delivered. O,
For a stronger lace to keep my breath
That I may laugh the nine dayes till the wonder
Fall to an ebb: the high and mighty Duchesse?
The high and mighty God what a stile is this?
Methinks it goes like a Duchy lope-man,
A ladder of 100 rounds will faile.
To reach the top on't, well my Gentle Cozen
I know by these contents your itch of honour;
You must to the Court, you say, and very shortly:
You shall be welcome; and if your wife have wit
I'le put her in a thriving course, if not
Her own sin on her owne head, not ablot
Shall staine my reputation, only this
I must for healths sake sometimes
Make an asse of the tame moyle my husband;
'Twill do him good, and give him fresher brains,
Me fresher blood.
Now for the noble Duke, I heare him comming.
Enter Duke, his traine.
Your Grace is well return'd.
Du.
As well as may be:
Never in younger health, never more able:
I meane to be your bed-fellow this night,
Let me have good encounter.
Bew.
Blesse the heaven
What a hot meat this greatnesse is?
Long.
It may be so,
For I'le be sworn he hath not got a snap
This two months on my knowledge, or her woman
Is damd for swearing it.
Du.
I thank you Gentlemen for your attendance
And also your great paines, pray know my lodgings
Better and oftner, do so Gentlemen.
Now by my honour, as I am a Prince,
I speake sincerely, know my lodgings better,
And bends strangers, I shall see your service
And your deservings, when you least expect.
Om.
We humbly thank your Grace for this great favor.
Du.
Jaques?
Ja.
Your Grace.
Du.
Be ready for the Countrey,
And let my Tenants know the Kings great love:
Say I would see them, but the waight at Court
Lyes heavy on my shoulders: let them know
I do expect their duties in attendance
Against the next feast, wait for my comming
To take up post horse, and be full of speed.
Exit Jaques
Wife.
I would desire your Grace—
Du.
You shall desire, and have your
Full desire, sweet Duchesse speak.
Wife.
To have some conference with a Gentleman
That seems not altogether void of reason;
He talks of titles, and things neare the Crown,
And knowing none so sit as your good Grace,
To give the difference in such points of State—
Du.
What is he? If he be noble, or have any part
That's worthy our converse, We do accept him.
Wife.
I can assure your Grace his straine is noble,
But he's very subtle.
Duke.
Let him be so.
Let him have all the braines, I shall demonstrate
How this most Christian Crown of France can beare
No other shew of title then the Kings.
I will goe in and meditate for halfe an houre,
38
I will convert him quickly or confound him.
Ser.
Is mad Shattillion here?
Wife.
Is here, and's Lady,
I prethee servant fetch him hither.
Ser.
Why, what do you meane to put him to?
Wife.
To chat with the mad lad my husband;
'Twill be brave to heare them speake, babl,
Stare, and prate.
Bew.
But what shall be the end of all this, Lady?
Enter Shattillion, and Servant.
Wife.
Leave that to me, now for the grand dispute,
For see here comes Shattillion: as I live me thinks
All France should beare part of his griefes.
Long.
I'le fetch my Lord the Duke.
Shat.
Where am I now, or whether will you lead me?
To my death? I crave my priviledge,
I must not dye but by just course of law.
Ser.
His Majesty hath sent by me your pardon,
He meant not you should dye but would intreate you
To lay the full state of your Title open,
Unto a grave and noble Gentleman.
Enter Duke and Longovile.
The Duke of Burgundy who here doth come,
Who either by his wisedome will confute you,
Or else informe and satisfie the King.
Bew.
May't please your grace, this is the Gentleman.
Duke.
Is this he that chops Logicke with my liege?
Shat.
D'ee mocke me? you are great, the time will come
When you shall be as much contemned as I,
Where are the ancient complements of France,
That upstarts brave the Princes of the bloud?
Duke.
Your title Sir, in short.
Shat.
He must Sir,
Be a better states man then your selfe, that can
Trip me in any thing, I will not speake
Before these witnesses.
Duke.
Depart the roome, for none shall stay,
No not my dearest Dutches.
Wife.
Wee'le stand behind the Arras & heare all.
Exeunt.
Duke.
In that chaire take your place, I in this,
Discourse your title now.
Shat.
Sir you shall know,
My loves true title, mine by marriage,
Setting aside the first race of French Kings
Which will not here concerne us, as Pharamond,
With Clotian, Meron, and Chilperik,
And to come downe unto the second race,
Which we will likewise slip—
Duke.
But take me with you.
Shat.
I pray you give me leave, of Martell Charles,
The Father of King Pippin, who was, Sir,
To Charles the great and famous Charlemaine.
And to come to the third race of French Kings,
Which will not be greatly pertinent in this cause,
Betwixt the King and me, of which you know
Hvgh Capet was the first,
Next his Sonne Robert, Henry then, and Phillip
With Lewis, and his Sonne a Lewis too,
And of that name the seventy, but all this
Springs from a female as it shall appeare.
Duke.
Now give me leave, I grant you this your title
At the first sight carryes some shew of truth;
But if ye weigh it well ye shall finde light.
Is not his Majestie possest in peace,
And justice executed in his name,
And can you thinke the most Christian King
Would do this if he saw not reason for it?
Shat.
But had not the tenth Lewis a sole daughter?
Duke.
I cannot tell.
Shat.
But answer me directly.
Duke.
It is a most seditious question.
Shat.
Is this your justice?
Duke.
I stand for my King.
Shat.
Was ever heire apparant thus abus'd?
I'le have your head for this.
Duke.
Why, do your worst.
Shat.
Will no one stir to apprehend this traytor?
A guard about my person will? none come?
Must my owne royall hands performe the deede?
Then thus I do arrest you.
Duke.
Treason, help.
Enter Wife, Long, and Bew, and Servant.
Wife.
Help, help, my Lord and husband.
Duke.
Help thy Duke.
Long.
Forbeare his graces person.
Shat.
Forbeare you to touch him that,
Your heire apparant weds,
But by this hand I will have all your heads.
Exit.
Ser.
How doth your grace?
Duke.
Why? well.
Ser.
How do you finde his title?
Duke.
'Tis a dangerous one,
As can come by a female.
Ser.
I't is true,
But the law Salicke, cuts him off from all.
Long.
I do beseech your grace how stands his title?
Duke.
Pew, nothing, the law Shallicke cuts him off from all.
Wife.
My gracious husband you must now prepare,
In all your graces pomp to entertaine
Your cozen, who is now a convertite,
And followes here, this night he will be here.
Duke.
Be ready all in hast, I do intend,
To shew before my cozens wondring face
(Exeunt omnes.
The greatnesse of my pomp, and of my place.
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