 | The Tragedie of Charles Duke of Byron, Marshall of France |  |
ACTVS. 4.
SCEN. 1.
Byron. D' Avuergne.Byr.
O the most base fruites of a setled peace!
In men, I meane; worse then their durty fields,
Which they manure much better them-selues:
For them they plant, and sowe, and ere they grow,
Wee die, and choakt with thornes, they grub and proyne,
And make them better, then when cruell warre,
Frighted from thence the sweaty labourer:
But men them-selues, in steed of bearing fruites,
Growe rude, and foggie, ouer-growne with weedes,
Their spirits, and freedomes smootherd in their ease;
And as their tyrants and their ministers,
Growe wilde in prosecution of their lusts,
So they grow prostitute, and lye (like whores)
Downe and take vp, to their abhord dishonors:
The friendlesse may be iniur'd and opprest;
The guiltlesse lead to slaughter the deseruer
Giuen to the begger; right be wholy wrongd,
And wrong be onely honor'd; till the strings
Of euery mans heart, crack; and who will stirre,
To tell authority, that it doth erre.
All men cling to it, though they see their blouds
In their most deare associates and Allyes,
Pour'd into kennels by it: and who dares
But looke well in the breast, whom that impayres?
How all the Court now lookes askew on me?
Go by without saluting, shun my sight,
Which (like a march sunne) agues breeds in them,
From whence of late, 'twas health to haue a beame.
Now none will speake to vs, we thrust our selues
Into mens companies, and offer speech,
As if not made, for their diuerted eares.
Their backs turnd to vs, and their words to others.
And we must like obsequious Parasites,
Follow their faces, winde aboue their persons,
For lookes and answers: or be cast behinde,
No more viewd then the wallet of their faults.
Enter Soisson.
Byr.
Yet here's one views me, and I thinke will speake,
Soiss.
My Lord, if you respect your name and race,
The preseruation of your former honors,
Merites and vertues; humbly cast them all,
At the kings mercy; for beyond all doubt,
Your acts haue thether driuen them: he hath proofes
So pregnant, and so horride, that to heare them,
Would make your valure in your very lookes,
Giue vp your forces miserably guilty:
But he is most loth (for his ancient loue
To your rare vertues:) and in their empaire,
The full discouragement of all that liue,
To trust or fauour any gifts in Nature)
T'expose them to the light; when darknesse may
Couer her owne broode, and keepe still in day,
Nothing of you but that may brooke her brightnesse:
You know what horrors these high strokes do bring,
Raisd the arme of an incensed King.
Byr.
My Lord, be sure the King cannot complaine
Of any thing in me, but my true seruice,
Which in so many dangers of my death,
May so approoue my spotlesse loyaltie;
That those quite opposite horrors you assure,
Must looke out of his owne ingratitude;
Or the malignant enuies of my foes,
Who powre me out in such a Stygian flood,
To drowne me in my selfe, since their deserts
Are farre from such a deluge; and in me
Hid like so many riuers in the Sea.
You thinke I come to sound you, fare you wel,
Exit.
Enter Chancellor, Espernon, Ionin, Vidame, Vitry, Pralin, whisperinge by couples, &c.
D' Au:
See see, not one of them will cast a glaunce
At our eclipsed faces;
Byr:
They keepe all to cast in admiration on the King:
For from his face are all their faces moulded.
D' Au:
But when a change comes; we shall see them all
Chang'd into water, that will instantly
Giue looke for looke, as if it watcht to greete vs;
Or else for one, they'l giue vs twenty faces,
Like to the little specks on sides of glasses;
Byr:
Is't not an easie losse to lose theyr lookes,
Whose hearts so soone are melted?
D' Au:
But me thinks,
(Being Courtiers) they should cast best looks on men,
When they thought worst of them.
Byr:
O no my Lord,
They n'ere dissemble but for some aduantage;
They sell theyr looks, and shadowes; which they rate
After theyr markets, kept beneath the State;
Lord what foule weather theyr aspects do threaten?
See in how graue a Brake he sets his vizard:
Passion of nothing; See, an excellent Iesture:
Now Courtship goes a ditching in theyr fore-heads;
And we are falne into those dismall ditches;
Why euen thus dreadfully would they be rapt,
If the Kings butterd egges, were onely spilt.
Enter Henry.
Hen:
Lord Chancellor;
Cha:
I my Lord;
Hen:
And lord Vidame:
Exit.
Byr:
And not Byron? here's a prodigious change;
D' Au.
He cast no Beame on you;
Byr:
Why now you see
From whence theyr countenances were copyed.
D' Au.
See, here comes some newes, I beleeue my Lord.
Byr.
VVhat saies the honest captaine of my guard?
Cap.
I bring a letter from a friend of yours.
Byr.
Tis welcome then:
D' Au.
Haue we yet any friends?
Cap.
More then yee would I thinke: I neuer saw,
Men in their right mindes so vnrighteous
In their owne causes.
Byr.
See what thou hast brought,
Hee wills vs to retire our selues my Lord,
And makes as if it were almost too late,
What saies my captaine; shall we goe or no?
Cap.
I would your daggers point had kist my heart,
When you resolu'd to come.
Byr.
I pray the why?
Cap.
Yet, doth that sencelesse Apopelxy dull you?
The diuell or your wicked angell blinds you,
Bereauing all your reason of a man
And leaues you but the spirit of a horse,
In your brute nostrills: onely powre to dare.
Byr.
VVhy, dost thou think, my comming here hath brought me
To such an vnrecouerable danger?
Cap.
Iudge by the strange Ostents that haue succeeded,
Since your arriuall: the kinde fowle, the wilde duck,
That came into your cabinet, so beyond
The sight of all your seruants, or your selfe:
That flew about, and on your shoulder sat
And which you had so fed, and so attended;
For that dum loue she shew'd you; iust as soone,
As you were parted, on the sodaine died.
And to make this no lesse then an Oftent;
Another that hath fortun'd since, confirmes it:
Your goodly horse Pastrana, which the Archduke,
Gaue you at Bruxells; in the very houre,
You left your strength, fel-mad, and kild himselfe;
The like chanc't to the horse the great duke sent you:
And, with both these, the horse the duke of Lorraine,
Of some Ineuitable fate that toucht you,
Who like the other pin'd away and died,
Byr.
All these together are indeed ostentfull,
Which by another like, I can confirme:
The matchlesse Earle of Essex who some make,
(In their most sure diuinings of my death)
A parallell with me in life and fortune,
Had one horse like-wise that the very howre,
He sufferd death, (being well the night before)
Died in his pasture. Noble happy beasts,
That die, not hauing to their wills to liue:
They vse no deprecations, nor complaints.
Nor sute for mercy: amongst them the Lion,
Serues not the Lion; nor the horse the horse,
As man serues man: when men shew most their spirrits,
In valure and their vtmost dares to do;
They are compard to Lions, Woolues, and Bores,
But by conuersion; None will say a Lyon,
Fights as he had the Spirrit of a man.
Let me then in my danger now giue cause,
For all men to begin that Simile.
For all my huge engagement, I prouide me,
This short sword onely; which if I haue time,
To show my apprehendor, he shall vse,
Power of tenne Lions if I get not loose.
Enter Henry, Chancellor, Vidame, Ianin, Vitry, Pralin.
Hen.
What shall we doe with this vnthankefull man?
Would he (of one thing) but reueale the truth,
Which I haue proofe of, vnderneath his hand,
He should not tast my Iustice. I would giue,
Two hundred thousand crownes, that he would yeeld,
But such meanes for my pardon, as he should;
I neuer lou'd man like him: would haue trusted,
My Sonne in his protection, and my Realme:
He hath deseru'd my loue with worthy seruice,
Sau'd him from death: I drew him of the foe,
At Fountaine Francoise where he was engag'd,
So wounded and so much amazd with blowes,
That (as I playd the souldier in his rescue,)
I was enforc't to play the Marshall,
To order the retreat: because he said,
He was not fit to do it nor to serue me,
Cha.
Your maiesty hath vsd your vtmost meanes,
Both by your owne perswasions, and his friends
To bring him to submission, and confesse
(With some signe of repentance) his foule fault:
Yet still he stands prefract and insolent.
You haue in loue and care of his recouery
Beene halfe in labour to produce a course,
And resolution, what were fit for him.
And since so amply it concernes your crowne,
You must by law cut of, what by your grace,
You cannot bring into the state of safety,
Ian.
Begin at th'end my Lord and execute,
Like Alexander with Parmenio.
Princes (you knowe) are Maisters of their lawes,
And may resolue them to what forms they please,
So all conclude in iustice; in whose stroke,
There is one sort of manadge for the Great;
Another for inferiour: The great Mother,
Of all productions (graue Necessity)
Commands the variation: And the profit,
So certenly fore-seene, commends the example.
Hen.
I like not executions so informall,
For which my predecessors haue beene blam'd:
My Subiects and the world shall knowe; my powre,
And my authority by lawes vsuall course
Dares punish; not the deuilish heads of treason,
But there confederates be they nere so dreadfull,
The decent ceremonies of my lawes,
And their solemnities shall be obserued,
Wih all their St. menes and Seueritie.
Where will your highnes haue him apprehended?
Hen:
Not in the Castle (as some haue aduis'd)
But in his chamber;
Pral:
Rather in your owne,
Or comming out of it; for tis assur'd
That any other place of apprehension,
Will make the hard performance, end in blood.
Vit:
To shun this likely-hood, my Lord tis best
To make the apprehension neere your chamber;
For all respect and reuerence giuen the place,
More then is needfull, to chastice the person,
And saue the opening of to many veines;
Is vain and dangerous.
Hen:
Gather you your guard,
And I will finde fit time to giue the word,
When you shall seaze on him and on D' Avuergne;
Vit:
Wee will be readie to the death; (my Lord)
Exeunt.
Hen:
O thou that gouernst the keene swords of Kings,
Direct my arme in this important stroke,
Or hold it being aduanc't; the weight of blood,
Euen in the basest subiect, doth exact
Deepe consultation, in the highest King;
For in one subiect, deaths vniust affrights,
Passions, and paines, (though he be n'ere so poore)
Aske more remorse, then the voluptuous spleenes
Of all Kings in the world, deserue respect;
Hee should be borne grey-headed that will beare
The sword of Empire; Iudgement of the life,
Free state, and reputation of a man,
(If it be iust and worthy) dwells so darke
That it denies accesse to Sunne and Moone;
The soules eye sharpned with that sacred light,
Of whome the Sunne it selfe is but a beame,
Must onely giue that iudgement; O how much
Erre those Kings then, that play with life and death,
And nothing put into their serious States,
But humor and their lusts! For which alone
Men long for kingdomes; whose huge counterpoise
He would not be a King but would be wise;
Enter Byron talking with the Queene: Esp: D' Entragues, D' Av: with another Lady, others attending.
Hen:
Heere comes the man, with whose ambitious head
(Cast in the way of Treason) we must stay
His full chace of our ruine and our Realme;
This houre shall take vpon her shady winges
His latest liberty and life to Hell.
D' Av:
We are vndone?
Queene:
Whats that?
Byr:
I heard him not;
Hen:
Madam y'are honord much, that Duke Byron
Is so obseruant; Some, to cardes with him,
You foure, as now you come, sit to Primero;
And I will fight a battayle at the Chesse;
Byr.
A good safe fight beleeue me; Other warre
Thirsts blood, and wounds, and his thirst quencht, is thankles;
Esp:
Lift, and then cut;
Byr:
Tis right the end of lifting,
When men are lifted to their highest pitch,
They cut of those that lifted them so high.
Qu:
Apply you all these sports so seriously?
Byr:
They first were from our serious acts deuis'd,
The best of which, are to the best but sports;
(I meane by best, the greatest) for their ends,
In men that serue them best, are their owne pleasures.
Qu:
So, in those best mens seruices, their ends
Are their owne pleasures; passe.
Byr:
I vy't;
Hen:
I see't;
And wonder at his frontles impudence;
Exit Hen:
Chan:
How speedes your Maiestie?
Qu:
Well; the Duke instructs me
With such graue lessons of mortallitie
I cannot but speed well.
Byr.
Some idle talke,
For Courtship sake, you know does not amisse.
Chan.
Would we might heare some of it.
Byr.
That you shall,
I cast away a card now, makes me thinke,
Of the deceased worthy King of Spaine.
Chan.
What card was that?
Byr.
The King of hearts (my Lord)
Whose name yeelds well the memorie of that King,
Who was indeed the worthy King of hearts,
And had, both of his subiects hearts, and strangers,
Much more then all the Kings of Christendome.
Chan.
He wun them with his gold.
Byr.
He wun them chiefely,
With his so generall Pietie and Iustice:
And as the little, yet great Macedon,
Was sayd with his humane philosophy,
To teach the rapefull Hyrcaus, mariage;
And bring the barbarous Sogdians, to nourish,
Not kill their aged Parents; as before,
Th'incestuous Persians to reuerence
Their mothers, not to vse them as their wiues;
The Indians to adore the Grecian Gods,
The Scythians to inter, not eate their Parents;
So he, with his diuine Philosophy,
(Which I may call his, since he chiefely vsd it)
In Turky, India, and through all the world,
Expell'd prophane idolatry; and from earth,
Raisd temples to the highest: whom with the word,
He could not winne, he iustly put to sword,
Chan.
He sought for gold, and Empire.
Byr.
Twas Religion,
And her full propagation that he sought;
When he had fetcht it in so many fleetes:
Which he spent not on Median Luxurie,
Banquets, and women; Calidonian wine,
Nor deare Hyrcanian fishes, but emploid it,
To propagate his Empire; and his Empire
Desird t'extend so, that he might withall,
Extend Religion through it, and all nations,
Reduce to one firme constitution,
Of Pietie, Iustice, and one publique weale;
To which end he made all his matchles subiects
Make tents their castles, and their garisons;
True Catholikes contrimen; and their allies,
Heretikes, strangers, and their enemies.
There was in him the magnanimity.
Montig.
To temper your extreame applause (my Lord)
Shorten, and answere all things in a word,
The greatest commendation we can giue
To the remembrance of that King deceast;
Is, that he spar'd not his owne eldest sonne,
But put him iustly to a violent death,
Because, hee sought to trouble his estates.
Byr.
Ist so?
Chan.
That bit (my Lord) vpon my life,
Twas bitterly replied, and doth amaze him.
The King sodainely enters hauing determined what to doe.
Hen.
It is resolud,
A worke shall now be done,
Which, (while learnd Atlas shall with starres be crownd,
While th'Ocean walkes in stormes his wauy round,
While Moones at full, repaire their broken rings:
And Arctos stickes aboue the Earth vnmou'd,
Shall make my realme be blest, and me beloued;
Call in the count D' Auuergne.
Enter D' Au.
A word my Lord.
Will you become as wilfull as your friend?
And draw a mortall iustice on your heads,
That hangs so blacke and is so loth to strike?
If you would vtter what I knowe you knowe,
Of his inhumaine treason; on Stronge Barre,
Betwixt his will, and duty were dissolud.
For then I know he would submit himselfe;
Thinke you it not as stronge a point of faith,
To rectifie your loyalties to me,
As to be trusty in ech others wrong?
Trust that deceiues our selues in treachery,
And Truth that truth conceales an open lie;
D' Au.
My Lord if I could vtter any thought,
Instructed with disloyalty to you,
And might light any safty to my friend;
Though mine owne heart came after it should out;
Hen.
I knowe you may, and that your faith's affected
To one another, are so vaine and faulce,
That your owne Strengths will ruine you: ye contend,
To cast vp rampiers to you in the sea,
And striue to stop the waues that runne before you,
D' Au.
All this my Lord to me is misery.
Hen.
It is; Ile make it plaine enouge. Beleeue me.
Come my Lord Chancellor let vs end our mate.
Enter Varennes, whispering to Byron.
Var.
You are vndone my Lord;
Exit.
Byr.
Is it possible?
Que.
Play good my Lord: whom looke you for?
Esp.
Your mind,
Is not vpon your Game,
Byr.
Play, pray you play,
Hen.
Enough, tis late, and time to leaue our play,
Stay you with me; yet is your will resolued,
To dewty, and the maine bond of your life?
I sweare (of all th'Intrusions I haue made,
Vpon your owne good, and continew'd fortunes)
This is the last; informe me yet the truth,
And here I vow to you, (by all my loue;
By all meanes showne you, euen to this extreame,
When all men else forsake you) you are safe.
What passages haue slipt twixt count Fuentes,
You, and the Duke of Sauoye?
Byr.
Good my Lord.
This nayle is driuen already past the head,
You much haue ouerchargd, an honest man:
And I beseech you yee'd my Inocence iustice,
(But with my single valure) gainst them all,
That thus haue poisoned your opinion of me,
And let me take my vengeance by my sword:
For I protest, I neuer thought an Action,
More then my tongue hath vtterd.
Hen.
Would twere true.
And that your thoughts and deeds, had fell no fouler.
But you disdaine submission, not remembring,
That (in intentes vrdgd for the common good)
He that shall hould his peace being chardgd to speake:
Doth all the peace and nerues of Empire breake
Which on your conscience lie, adieu, good night.
Exit.
Byr.
Kings hate to heare what they command men speake,
Aske life, and to desert of death ye yeeld.
Where Medicins loath, it yrcks men to be heald,
Enter Vitry, with two or three of the Guard, Esper, Vidame, following Vytry layes hand on Pyrors sword.
Vyt.
Resigne your sword (my Lord) the King commands it,
Byr.
Me to resigne my sword? what king is he,
Ha'h vsd it better for the realme then I?
My sword, that all the warres within the length,
Breadth and the whole dimensions of great France,
Hath sheathd betwixt his hilt and horrid point?
My sword that neuer enimie could inforce,
Bereft me by my friendes? Now, good my Lord,
Beseech the King, I may resigne my sword,
To his hand onely.
Enter Ianin.
Ianin:
You must do your office,
The King commands you;
Vit:
Tis in vaine to striue,
For I must force it;
Byron:
Haue I n'ere a friend,
That beares another for me? All the Guard?
What will you kill me? will you smother here
His life that can command, and saue in field,
A hundred thousand liues? For man-hood sake;
Lend something to this poore forsaken hand;
For all my seruice, let me haue the honor
To dye defending of my innocent selfe,
And haue some little space to pray to God.
Enter Henry.
Hen.
Come, you are an Atheist Byron, and a Traytor,
Both foule and damnable; Thy innocent selfe?
No Leper is so buried quicke in vlcers
As thy corrupted soule: Thou end the war?
And settle peace in France? what war hath rag'd,
Into whose fury I haue not exposd,
My person; wich is as free a spirit as thine?
Thy worthy Father, and thy selfe, combinde,
And armd in all the merits or your valors;
(Your bodyes thrust amidst the thickest fight)
Neuer were bristeld with so many battayles.
Nor on the foe haue broke such woods of Launces
As grew vpon my thigh; and I haue Marshald;
I am asham'd to bragge thus; where enuy
And arrogance, their opposit Bulwarke raise;
Men are allowd to vse their proper praise;
Away with him;
Exit Henry:
Byr:
Away with him? liue I?
That euer the intelligensing lights
Betraid me to mens whorish fellowships;
To Princes Moorish slaueries; To be made
The Anuille, on which onely blowes, and woundes
Were made the seed, and wombs of others honors;
A property for a Tyrant, to set vp,
And puffe downe, with the vapour of his breath;
Will you not kill me?
Vit.
No; we will not hurt you,
We are commanded onely to conduct you
Into your lodging;
Byr:
To my lodging? where?
Vit:
Within the Cabynet of Aimes my Lord:
Byr:
What to a prison? Death; I will not go;
Vit:
Weele force you then;
Byr:
And take away my sword;
A proper point of force; ye had as good,
Haue rob'd me of my soule; Slaues of my Starrs,
Partiall and bloody; O that in mine eyes
Were all the Sorcerous poyson of my woes,
That I might witch ye headlong from your height,
And trample ou't, your excrable light.
Vit:
Come will you go my Lord? this rage is vaine;
Byr:
And so is all your graue authority;
And that all France shall feele before I Die;
Ye see all how they vse good Catholiques;
Esp.
Farewell for euer; so haue I desern'd
An exhalation that would be a Starre
Fall when the Sunne forsooke it, in a sincke.
Shooes euer ouerthrow that are too large,
And hugest canons, burst with ouercharge.
D' Avuergue, Pralin, following with a Guard.
Pra:
My Lord I haue commandment from the King,
To charge you go with me, and aske your sword;
D' Au:
My sword, who feares it? it was nere the death
Of any but wilde Bores; I prithee take it;
I had bene in my bed, and fast asleepe
Two houres a goe; lead; ile go where thou wilt:
Exit.
Vid:
See how he beares his crosse, with his small strength,
On easier shoulders then the other Atlas.
Esp:
Strength to aspire, is still accompanied
With weakenes to indure, All popular gifts,
Are coullors, it will beare no vineger;
And rather to aduerse affaires, betray;
Thine arme against them; his State still his best
That hath most inward worth; and that's best tryed,
That neither glories, nor is glorified.
| The Tragedie of Charles Duke of Byron, Marshall of France | |