 | The Tragedie of Charles Duke of Byron, Marshall of France |  |
ACTVS 3.
SCENA 1.
Enter Byron. D' Auer.Byr.
Deare friend, we must not be more true to kings,
Then Kings are to their subiects, there are schooles,
Now broken ope in all parts of the world,
First founded in ingenious Italy,
Where some conclusions of estate are held,
That for a day preserue a Prince, and euer,
Destroy him after: from thence men are taught,
To glyde into degrees of height by crafte,
And then lock in them-selues by villanie:
But God, who knowes kings are not made by art,
But right of Nature, nor by trechery propt,
But simple vertue, once let fall from heauen,
A branch of that greene tree, whose root is yet,
Fast fixt aboue the starrs: which sacred branch,
Wee well may liken to that Lawrell spray,
That from the heauenly Eagles golden seres,
Fell in the lap of great Augustus wife:
Which spray once set, grew vp into a tree,
Whereof were Girlonds made, and Emperors,
Had their estates and foreheads crownd with them:
And as the armes of that tree did decay,
The race of great, Augustus wore away,
Nero being last of that imperiall line,
The tree and Emperor together died.
Religion is a branch, first set and blest
By heauens highe finger in the hearts of kings,
Which whilelome grew into a goodly tree,
Bright Angels sat and sung vpon the twigs,
And royall branches for the heads of Kings,
Were twisted of them but since squint-ey'd enuye:
And pale suspicion, dasht the heads of kingdomes,
One gainst another: two abhorred twins,
With two foule tayles: sterne Warre and Libertie,
Entred the world. The tree that grew from heauen.
That heeretofore hath sounded out of it,
Beginnes to cease; and as she casts her leaues,
(By small degrees) the kingdomes of the earth
Decline and wither: and looke whensoeuer
That the pure sap in her, is dried vp quite;
The lamp of all authoritie goes out,
And all the blaze of Princes is extinkt;
Thus as the Poet sends a messenger
Out to the stage, to shew the summe of all,
That followes after: so are Kings reuolts,
And playing both waies with religion,
Fore-runners of afflictions imminent,
Which (like a Chorus) subiects must lament.
D' Au.
My Lord I stand not on these deepe discourses,
To settle my course to your fortunes; mine
Are freely and inseperable linckt:
And to your loue my life.
Byr.
Thankes Princely friend,
And whatsoeuer good shall come of me,
Pursu'd by al the Catholike Princes aydes
With whom I ioyne, and whose whole states proposde,
To winne my valure, promise me a throne:
All shall be equall with my selfe; thine owne.
La Brun.
My Lord there is D' escuris sent from the King,
Desires accesse to you.
Enter D' escuris.
Byr.
Attend him in.
Desc.
Helth to my Lord the Duke:
Byr.
Welcome D' escuris,
In what helth rests our royall Soueraigne.
Desc.
In good helth of his bodie, but his minde,
Is something troubled with the gathering stormes,
Of forreigne powres; that as he is inform'd
Addresse themselues into his frontier townes;
And therefore his intent, is to maintaine:
And yeeld their worthie conduct to your valure.
Byr.
From whence heares he that any stormes are rising?
D' esc.
From Italy; and his intelligence,
No doubt is certaine, that in all those partes
Leuies are hotly made; for which respect,
He sent to his Ambassador De Vic,
To make demand in Switzerland, for the raising
With vtmost dilligence of sixe thousand men;
All which shall bee commanded to attend,
On your direction; as the Constable
Your honord Gossip gaue him in aduice;
And hee sent you by wrighting: of which letters,
He would haue answere, and aduice from you
By your most speedie presence.
Byr.
This is strange,
That when the enimie is t'atempt his frontiers,
He calls me from the frontiers: does he thinke,
It is an action worthie of my valure
To turne my back, to an approching foe?
Desc.
The foe is not so nere, but you may come,
And take more strickt directions from his highnesse,
Then he thinkes fit his letters should containe,
Without the least attainture of your valure;
And therefore good my Lord, forbeare excuse
And beare your selfe on his direction;
Who well you know hath neuer made designe
For your most worthy seruice, where he saw
That any thing but honour could succede.
Byr.
I will not come I sweare:
Des.
I know your grace,
Will send no such vnsauorie replie.
Byr.
Tell him that I besecch his Maiesty,
To pardon my repaire till th'end be knowne
Of all these leuies now in Italie.
Des.
My Lord I know that tale will neuer please him;
And wish you as you loue his loue and pleasure
To satisfie his summons speedily:
Byr.
By heauen it is not fit: if all my seruice
Makes me know any thing: beseech him therefore,
To trust my iudgement in these doubtfull charges,
Since in assur'd assaults it hath not faild him.
Des.
I would your Lordship now, would trust his iudgement.
Byr.
Gods precious, y'are importunate past measure,
And (I know) further, then your charge extends,
Ile satisfie his highnesse, let that serue;
For by this flesh and bloud, you shall not beare,
Any replie to him, but this from me.
Des.
Tis nought to me my Lord, I wish your good,
And for that cause haue beene importunate.
Exit Desc:
Brunel.
By no meanes goe my Lord; but with distrust,
Of all that hath beene said or can be sent;
Collect your friends, and stand vpon your gard,
The Kings faire letters, and his messages
Are onely Golden Pills, and comprehend
Horrible purgatiues.
Byr.
I will not goe,
For now I see th instructions lately sent me,
That something is discouerd, are too true,
And my head rules none of those neighbor Nobles,
That euery Pursuant brings beneath the axe:
If they bring me out, they shall see ile hatch
Like to the Black-thorne, that puts forth his leafe,
Not with the golden fawnings of the Sunne,
But sharpest showers of haile, and blackest frosts:
Blowes, batteries, breaches, showers of steele and bloud,
Must be his doun-right messengers for me,
And not the missing breath of policie:
He, he himselfe, made passage to his Crowne
Through no more armies, battailes, massacres,
Then I will aske him to arriue at me;
He takes on him, my executions,
And on the demolitions, that this arme,
Hath shaken out of forts and Citadells,
Hath he aduanc't the Tropheys of his valor;
Where I, in those assumptions may skorne,
For any equal yet, I euer found;
And in my rising, not the Syrian Starre
That in the Lyons mouth, vndaunted shines,
And makes his braue ascension with the Sunne,
Was of th'Egiptians, with more zeale beheld,
And made a rule to know the circuite
And compasse of the yeare; then I was held
When I appeard from battaile; the whole sphere,
And full sustainer of the state we beare;
I haue Alcides-like gone vnder th'earth
And on these showlders borne the weight of France:
And (for the fortunes of the thankles King)
My father (all know) set him in his throne,
And if he vrge me, I may pluck him out.
Enter Mess:
Mes.
Here is the president Ianin, my Lord;
Sent from the King, and vrgeth quick accesse.
Byr.
Another Pursiuant? and one so quick?
He takes next course with me, to make him stay:
But, let him in, let's here what he importunes.
Enter Ianin.
Ianin.
Honor, and loyall hopes to Duke Byron.
Byr.
No other tooch me: say how fares the King?
Ian.
Farely my Lord; the cloud is yet farre off
That aimes at his obscuring, and his will,
Would gladly giue the motion to your powers
That should disperse it; but the meanes, himselfe,
Would personally relate in your direction.
Byr.
Still on that hante?
Ian.
Vpon my life, my Lord,
He much desires to see you, and your sight
Is now growne necessarie to suppresse
(As with the glorious splendor of the Sunne)
The rude windes that report breaths in his eares,
Endeuoring to blast your loialtie.
Byr.
Sir, if my loyaltie, stick in him no faster
But that the light breath of report may loose it,
(So I rest still vnmoou'd) let him be shaken.
Ian.
But these aloofe abodes, my Lord bewray,
Then in your heart; Truth is not made of glasse,
That with a small touch, it should feare to breake,
And therefore should not shunne it; beleeue me
His arme is long, and strong; and it can fetch
Any within his will, that will not come:
Not he that surfets in his mines of gold,
And for the pride thereof, compares with God,
Calling (with almost nothing different)
His powers inuincible, for omnipotent,
Can back your boldest Fort gainst his assaults;
It is his pride, and vaine ambition,
That hath but two staires in his high designes:
(The lowest enuie, and the highest bloud)
That doth abuse you; and giues mindes too high,
Rather a will by guiddinesse to fall,
Then to descend by iudgement.
Byr.
I relye
On no mans back nor belly; but the King
Must thinke that merit, by ingratitude crackt,
Requires a firmer sementing then words.
And he shall finde it a much harder worke
To soder broken hearts then shiuerd glasses.
Ian.
My Lord, 'tis better hold a Soueraignes loue
By bearing iniuries; then by laying out
Stirre his displeasure; Princes discontents
(Being once incenst) are like the flames of Ætna,
Not to be quencht, nor lessend: and be sure,
A subiects confidence in any merit,
Against his Soueraigne, that makes him presume
To flie too high; approoues him like a clowd,
That makes a show as it did hawlke at kingdomes,
And could command, all raisd beneath his vapor:
When sodainly, the Fowle that hawlkt so faire,
Stoopes in a puddle, or consumes in ayre.
Byr.
I flie with no such ayme, nor am opposde,
Against my Soueraigne; but the worthy height
I haue wrought by my seruice, I will hold,
For if the enimie should inuade the Frontier,
Whose charge to guard, is mine, with any spoile,
(Although the King in placing of another
Might well excuse me) Yet all forraine Kinges
That can take note of no such secret quittance,
Will lay the weakenesse here, vpon my wants;
And therefore my abode is resolute.
Ian:
I sorrow for your resolution,
And feare your dissolution, will succeed.
Byr:
I must indure it;
Ian:
Fare you well my Lord;
Byr:
Farewell to you;
Enter Brun.
Captaine what other newes?
Bru:
La Fin salutes you;
Byr:
Welcome good friend; I hope your wisht arriuall,
Will giue some certaine end to our disseignes;
Bru:
I know not that, my Lord; reports are rais'd so doubtfull
and so different, that the truth of any one can hardly be
assur'd.
Byr:
Good newes, D' Avuergne; our trusty friend La Fin,
Hath clear'd all scruple with his Maiestie,
And vtterd nothing but what seru'd to cleare
All bad Suggestions.
Bru:
So he sayes, my Lord
But others say, La Fins assurances
Are meere deceipts; and wish you to beleeue;
That when the Vidame, nephew to La Fin,
Met you at Autune, to assure your doubts,
His vncle had said nothing to the King
That might offend you; all the iournies charge,
The King defraid; besides, your truest friendes
Willd me to make you certaine that your place
Of gouernment is other wise dispos'd;
And all aduise you, for your latest hope,
To make retreat into the Franch County.
Byr:
I thanke them all, but they touch not the depth,
Of the affaires, betwixt La Fin and me.
Quite freed, of all displeasure or distrust;
And therefore, worthy friends wele now to Court.
D' Au.
My Lord, I like your other friends aduices,
Much better then Laffins; and on my life
You can not come to Court with any saftie.
Byr.
Who shall infringe it? I know, all the Court,
Haue better apprehension of my valure;
Then that they dare lay violent hands on mee;
If I haue onely meanes to drawe this sword,
I shall haue powre enough to set me free,
From seasure, by my proudest enemie.
Exit.
Espar: Vyt: Pral:
Esp.
He will not come I dare engage my hand.
Vyt.
He will be fetcht then, ile engage my head.
Pra.
Come, or be fetcht, he quite hath lost his honor,
In giuing these suspicions of reuolt
From his allegiance: that which he hath wunne,
With sundry wounds, and perrill of his life;
With wonder of his wisdome, and his valure,
He looseth with a most enchanted glorie:
And admiration of his pride, and folly.
Uit.
Why did you neuer see a fortunate man,
Sodainely rais'd to heapes of welth and honor?
Nor any rarely great in guifts of nature,
As valure, wit, and smooth vse of the tongue,
Set strangely to the pitch of populare likings?
But with as sodaine falls the rich and honord,
Were ouerwhelmd by pouertie, and shame
Or had no vse of both aboue the wretched.
Esp.
Men neuer are satisfi'd with that they haue;
But as a man, matcht with a louely wife,
When his most heauenly Theorye of her beauties,
Is duld and quite exhausted with his practise:
He brings her forth to feasts, where he ahlas,
Falls to his viends with no thought like others,
That thinke him blest in her, and they (poore men)
With their desires contention, breake their braines
For iests, and tales: sit mute, and loose their lookes,
(Far out of wit, and out of countenance)
So all men else, do what they haue transplant,
And place their welth in thirst of that they want.
Enter Henry, Chanc: Vyd: Desc: Ianin.
Hen.
He will not come; I must both grieue and wonder,
That all my care to winne my subiects loue
And in one cup of friendship to comix,
Our liues and fortunes: should leaue out so many
As giue a man (contemptuous of my loue,
And of his owne good, in the Kingdomes Peace)
Hope, in a continuance so vngratefull,
To beare out his designes in spight of me;
How should I better please all, then I do?
When they suppos'd, I would haue giuen some,
Insolent garisons; others Citadells,
And to all sorts, encrease of miseries;
Prouince by Prouince, I did visit all
Whom those iniurious rumors had diswaide;
And shew'd them how, I neuer sought to build,
More forts for me, then were within their hearts;
Nor vse more sterne constraints then their good wills,
To succor the necessities of my crowne,
That I desird to ad to their contents
By all occasions, rather then subtract;
Nor wisht I, that my treasury should flow,
With gold that swum in, in my subiects teares;
And then I found no man, that did not blesse,
My few yeares raigne, and their triumphant peace,
And do they now so soone, complaine of ease?
Hen.
He will not come?
Enter Byron, D' Avuergne; brother, with others.
Esp.
O madnesse? he is come.
Chan.
The duke is come my Lord:
Hen.
Oh Sir, y' are welcome,
Byr.
I must beseech your Maiesties excuse,
That (Ielouse of mine honor) I haue vsd,
Some of mine owne commandment in my stay,
And came not with your heighnesse soonest summons.
He:
The faithful I seruant right in holy writ;
That said he would not come and yet he came:
But come you hether; I must tell you now,
Not the contempt you stood to in your stay,
But the bad ground that bore vp your contempt,
Makes you arriue at no port, but repentance,
Despayre, and ruine,
Byr.
Be what port it will,
At which your will, will make me be ariued,
I am not come to iustifie my selfe,
To aske you pardon nor accuse my friends,
Hen.
I you conceale my enemies you are one,
And then my pardon shall be worth your asking,
Or else your head be worth my cutting of.
Byr.
Being friend and worthy fautor of my selfe,
I am no foe of yours, nor no empayrer,
Since he can no way worthely maintaine
His Princes honor that neglects his owne:
And if your wil haue beene to my true reason,
(Maintaining still the truth of loyalty)
A checke to my free nature and mine honor,
And that on your free iustice I presum'd
To crosse your will a little, I concerne,
You will not thinke this forsaite worth my head;
Hen.
Haue you maintaind your truth of loyalty?
When since I pardoned foule ententions,
Resoluing to forget eternally. What they apperd in,
And had welcomd you as the kind father doth his riotous son.
I can approue facts fowler then th'intents,
Of deepe disloyalty and highest treason;
Byr.
May this right hand be thunder to my brest,
If I stand guilty of the slendrest fact,
Wherein the lest of those two can be prooued,
At any such vnnaturall relaps;
I would not with this confidence haue runne,
Thus headlong in the furnace of a wrath,
Blowne, and thrice kindled: hauing way enough,
In my election both to shunne and sleight it.
Hen.
Y'are grosely and vain gloriously abus'd,
There is no way in Sauoy nor in Spaine,
To giue a foole that hope of your escape,
And had you not (euen when you did) arriued.
(With horror to the proudest hope you had)
I would haue fetcht you.
Byr.
You must then haue vs'd.
A power beyond my knowledge, and a will,
Beyond your iustice. For a little stay
More then I vsd would hardly haue beene worthy,
Of such an open expedition;
In which to all the censures of the world,
My faith and Innocence had beene fouly foyld;
Which (I protest) by heauens bright wittnesses
That shine farr, farr, from mixture with our feares.
Retaine as perfect roundnes as their spheares;
Hen.
Tis well my Lord, I thought I could haue frighted
Your firmest confidence: some other time,
We will (as now in priuate) sift your actions.
And poure more then you thinke into the fire,
Alwaies reseruing clemency and pardon
Vpon confession, be you nere so foule,
Come lets cleere vp our browes shall we to tennis.
Byr.
I my Lord if I may make the match.
The Duke Espernon and my selfe will play,
With you and Count Soissons;
Esp.
I know my Lord.
You play well but you make your matches ill.
Hen.
Come tis a match.
Exit.
Byr.
How like you my ariuall?
Esp.
Ile tell you as your friend in your eare.
You haue giuen more preferment to your courage,
D. Au.
I told him so my Lord, and much was grieu'd
To see his bold approach, so full of will.
Byr.
Well I must beare it now, though but with th'head,
The shoulders bearing nothing.
Esp.
By Saint Iohn,
Tis a good headlesse resolution.
Exeunt.
| The Tragedie of Charles Duke of Byron, Marshall of France | |