University of Virginia Library

ACTUS SECUNDUS.

Enter Louize, and La Guard.
La Gua.
VVou'd I had never medled in this Business.

[Aside.
Lou.
Come's he to Court to Day?

La Gua.
The Duke of Vendosme—

Lou.
You might have answer'd me, without impertinently
Naming a Name so very unpleasing to me.

La Gua.
Ah! that's not true; that Name, if she were dead,
Call'd 'ore her Tomb, would raise her up to Life.—
[Aside.
Yes Madam, He does come.

Lou.
Oh! then will be—
[Aside.
The mighty parting pang; does he come married?
Not that I care, I ask for curiosity.

La Gu.
Ah! pride; her heart is breaking, tho she hide's it:
I know not Madam.

[Aside.
Lou.
Go, and ask your friend.

La Gu.
I was now talking with him.

Lou.
Call him hither.
La Guard brings in the Constable's Secretary.
Well, do you hear yet if the Duke of Vendosm.
Be married to the Princess of Lorraine?

Secre.
'Tis thought so Madam.

Lou.
Did you ever see her?

Sec.
Oft! I have oft describ'd her to you Madam.

Lou.
It may be so, I never think of her.
What, is she handsom?

Sec.
Judg'd by all, the greatest
Beauty in the whole world, next your Highness.

Lou.
How tall is she?

Sec.
She is—

Lou.
Well—'tis no matter.
Did you ever see the Duke and her together?

Sec.
Who rather ever saw'm asunder, Madam,
Since their acquaintance?

Lou.
And did you ever hear him
Make me the Subject of his campe-discourse?

Sec.
Only in wondring how he came deceiv'd
Into the opinion that you were fair.
Tis true, he said the Princess of Lorrain
Was so extravagantly beautiful
After the sight of her, no other woman
Could be endur'd; his cashier'd Officers
Can tell you more at large.

Lou.
Yes they have told me.
Leave me! here was the excellent Man pretended
Such virtue! How wou'd the Dissembler talk?
Talk like an Angel.

La Gu.
Yes, and look like an Angel.
He is the loveliest Man mine eyes er'e saw.

Lou.
Go burn his Picture—Ha! the Dauphin here.

Enter the Dauphin.
Daup.
Ha! Have I catch'd you again at your devotion
To your Soul's Idol? quickly give it me.

Lou.
Oh! You delight to shew the Giant strength
Of your young Conjugal authority,
What will the Monster do when grown?

Daup.
This Hercules
Shall strangle biggest Serpents in its Cradle.
The Picture, come!

Lou.
What Picture wou'd you have?
A Map of jealous Italy or Spain?
Look in your bosom, ther's a most exact one.

Daup.
Give over, its dangerous trifling with me.

Lou.
Nay, if you threaten, threaten those that fear,
Your threats are lost on me.

Daup.
Then I entreat.

Lou.
Then I do grant. There take the Picture, Sir.

La Gu.
Oh! she ha's given it him! Now all will out.

[Aside.
Daup.
What's this, The Sister of the Duke of Burgundy?

Lou.
I hate my self for this deceit, but more
[Aside.
The Man that make's me such an odious creature.

Daup.
Was this the cause of all your secret sorrows?

Lou.
Death wou'd be easier to me than lying,
[Aside
If I cou'd bear a mortal wound in honour.
Yes, there's the Princess, Sir, that has your love,
In me you married but your haughty Will,
Which madly drove, because it was oppos'd,
And now the brittle corner of your heart
Which kept some love for me is broke, and all
The Vapour fled, and now you see your errour.

La Gu.
Rarely come off!—

[Aside.
Daup.
And have I wrong'd thee so?
I am a Brute, and thou art a bright Angel:
No wonder Heaven has blasted the unnatural
And horrid mixture of a Brute and Angel.
Yet there is manhood in the ruines of me,
I was a Prince, before that dog, my Jealousie
Fastned upon me, and tore me into this shape.

Lou.
Oh! you wou'd hide your kindness for that Princess,
Under the Veil of Jealousie.

Daup.
I hide
My kindness for her? I'le proclaim my hate to her,
I'le pave the streets of Paris with her Pictures
The day I make my happy Nuptials publick:
Nor will I dart the thunder of my Vengeance
On a thin shadow only, and so lose it.
I will make Burgundy the seat of misery,
That Malefactors shall be banish't thither,
When they deserve worse punishment than Death.

Lou.
Oh! what a change is here? your Head will grow
Giddy I fear, with turning round so fast,
And you will fall again from this high Love.

Daup.
Oh! Never! Never!

Lou.
Yes, in little time
I shall be call'd the Helena of France,
Fatal Incendiary, inchanting Mischief,
That brings your Father's Curses on your head,
The Curses of all France.

Daup.
Thou art all Blessing!
And Heaven rain thee down upon my head,
Soft as a flake of snow, and full as cold,
But yet thy coldness sets my Blood a burning.

Lou.
This is a present humour put in motion,
Weak was the Philter from my eyes you drunk,
It only works, when some wild passion shakes you.

Daup.
No more, I love! and bow my knee for pardon.

Lou.
Rise Sir, and be assur'd, I will not, cannot
Make my self more unworthy of your Love,
Than by a Subjects birth I am already.

Daup.
Excellent Creature! thou wert never born,
But cam'st immediately from Heaven's hands.
Perfection cannot come from Imperfection.

Lo.
Wretch that I am! to hate a Prince who loves me,
[Aside.
And love a base false Subject who contemns me.

Exit.
Enter the King, attended.
A Gent.
The King Sir.

King.
In posture of devotion
To your fair Mistress?

Daup.
Sir, I love her well.

K.
Yes, I believe you do; you love her better
Than your obedience to your King and Father,
Or than the peace and welfare of your Country.

Dauph.
My Country's welfare! why shou'd Princes marry.
To make their Country happy? give themselves
Most cursed Nights, that Slaves may have good days?
Will any Subject marry a damn'd Wife
Only for Wealth, and give his King the Portion?
That match with Burgundy, was the advice
Of some old cowardly covetous Counsellors:
Who fear the Souldier, in few Months shou'd spend,
What they have all their Lives been cozoning for:
Or that their paltry issue shou'd be kill'd,
And n'ere enjoy their Father's Knavery.
For 'tis the constant Creed of most old Fools,
That they enjoy their Wealth when they are dead,
In the damn'd silly Persons of their Sons,
When the young Fools themselves do not enjoy it.
From all these Knaves I will defend your Honour.

K.
Win your self honour, you have now occasion;
I know you hear the King of England's landed.

Daup.
I am glad of it, 'tis Summer now in France.
Fear sinks the blood in your old Counsellors Veins,
As a cold hand does Water in a Weather-glass,
You cannot guess the Weather then by them.
Now frosty Peace is gone, the Weather's hot:
So hot 't shall scorch the English Troops, and make 'em
Sweat all their Souls away in bloody Baths.

K.
I doubt it, for I know 'em a brave Nation:
If we 'ere get the better it must be,
By fasting longer, and by hiding better
Behind thick Woods, and by broad Lakes and Rivers,
By trusting to our Trees, not to our Men;
To our cold Rivers, not to our hot Blood:
For if they ever come to blows, they beat us.

Daup.
These ate your Vendosm's cold Imaginations.

K.
He ha's a cooler Head, but hotter Heart,
Then thou hast; that brave youth thou enviest.

Daup.
I envy him! I scorn him, he's a Dutch-man;
He ha's no spark of the French fire in's nature,
No more true Conduct, than his Father Honesty,
I'le drive 'em both out of the Court and Army.

K.
I'le part with thee before the Duke of Vendosme.

Daup.
Value the the son of a Traytour above me?
I'le humble the proud slave when e're I see him.

Exit.
K.
'Tis very well: You king it, sir, betimes.

Enter a Gentleman.
Gent.
Sir, the Great Constable attends without.

K.
Let him attend, he has offended me.
Did not his Son's great merits plead for him
I'de ruine him; howe're I'le let him know
I understand his actions, and resent e'm.

Enter the Great Constable, La Marre, and other Courtiers, Rass by, and look scornfully upon him.
Const.
How many Ages will they make me wait?
Ha! Is it so indeed? And am I fallen
Into these wretches scorn? Nay then I know
How the wind blows. You sir, who like a fly
[to La Marre.
Are blind in Autumn, when the cold approaches
And the tall trees begin to shed their leaves.
And is it Autumn with me then indeed?
Do you not see me, Sir? Must I for ever
Attend here? ha!

La Ma.
My Lord, I cannot mind
All men's affairs and businesses, not I.

Const.
All men's affairs, Sir? do you level me
with all men?

La Ma.
I must wait on the King's business,
And the Kings business must be done, my Lord.

Const.
I prethee what's that business thou attendest on?
To carry Charcoale in to air his Shirt?
I know thee, thou wert once my menial Servant,
And I preferr'd thee to the place thou holdest.

La Ma.
'Tis true, my Lord, You laid an obligation on me,
But what then: I am now his Majesties,
And his Majesties business must be done.

Const.
His Majesties business—

La M.
Nay, my Lord, I fear you not,
I know what the King said of you just now,
And what the Dauphin said to me this morning.
You'l never come in play again I'me sure.
And so your Lordships servant.

Exit.
Const.
Villaine and Fool!
How such a Slave, like dirt, flies in his teeth
And dirties him who raises it from the Earth!

Enter La Force.
La For.
My Lord, the King has gotten Information
Of all your Plots; give 'em 'ore, they will ruine you;
Like Vipers they will tear their Mothers bowels
That gave 'em being.

Const.
Ha! got Information:
Then, like a whorish Woman, once discovered,
I will grow impudent; Lye in in publick
Of my Designs; I'le fling 'em in the World
As carelesly as Nature does all Monsters,
Never appointing certain times of Birth;
My Monsters shall be born with Teeth and Fangs too.

La For.
You will undo your self; take good advice,
And live at ease.

Const.
I cannot in disgrace.

La For.
You have a vast estate.

Const.
I am a Begger,
When I want all the Wealth I value, Power.

La For.
You have great Palaces:

Const.
Great Gaoles, great Dungeons,
Dark horrid Dungeons, now the light of all
My honour is gone out.

Enter the King attended.
La For.
See! See! the King!
Take good advice before you ruine all.

Const.
Ha! he regard's me not: Oh! torment! torment!
Sir, with your pardon; I must speak with you.
Are you resolv'd, Sir, on your own destruction?
For let me tell you, Sir, I am your Eyes;
And you let Traitors tear me from your Head,
And then conduct you blindfold to destruction.
You find it not, but, Sir, I do with Sorrow.

K.
Hence with thy Tears, they fall upon the Ground;
And there discover thy dissembling Face.
There is no Hell to thee, like a low Fortune;
And when thou art in Hell thou art a Devil:
Tormenting both thy self and all the World.
Rebellion first did light thee to the Court.
I have permitted so many to light
Themselves to greatness by that filthy Flambeau,
That all the Louvre's blackned with the smoke.
And all my Councils strongly smell of Knaves.
But I'le chace them, and that ill practice, from me.
In short, for thy Son's sake, I fully pardon
All thy past Faults; and give thee thy Estate.
Go home, and live in ease and honesty.
Be wise, accept this favour whilest 'tis offer'd.

La For.
Do, do, accept it.

[Aside
Const.
Peace, I will be damn'd first.
Sir, can I either live in ease or honesty
When by retiring I resign you up
To those who seek your Life?

K.
Ha!

Const.
Sir; 'Tis true.

K.
And who are those?

Const.
They are such whose impious hands
The tyes of nature (one wou'd think) shou'd hold
From deeds so horrid!

K.
Who dost mean? My Son.

La F.
Oh! have a care, retreate;
You'r on a Precipice.

[Aside.
Const.
Let me alone! [Aside]
We are told by Philosophers
The principles of Death spring from our Natures;
He who intends your Death sprung from your Loynes.

La For.
He will undoe himself.—

[Aside.
Const.
Sir, it is truth;
And his beloved Brisac, is his chief Counsellour.

K.
Know if each word thou saist, swell not with truth,
The breath of Plagues should be less fatal to thee
Then that that form'd and vented this foul Charge.

Const.
So! so; an honest man has great encouragement
To serve his Prince, 'tis well I have a Conscience.

Enter the Dauphin and Brisac.
K.
Here they are both; come answer for your selves,
The Constable accuses both of you
Of blackest Treasons.

Daup.
How! accuses me?

Const.
Yes, you Sir! Take my Head for speaking Truth,
I'le proudly suffer Martyrdome for Loyalty.
What dost thou charge me with?

Const.
With close Designs;
To get Brisac my Offices, that he
May assist you to get the King's great Office.

Daup.
Oh! Villaine! Villaine!

Const.
I can prove it, Sir.

Bris.
Oh! Sir, I kneel and call Heaven to my witness.

Const.
You may call long enough before he'l come.
Sir, to oppose this impious Design
Was that that made me bear th'uneasy Court
When it was grown such an unpleasant Clime,
I saw not in a year one summers day;
My Enemies were a perpetual storm,
And you permitted 'em to blow upon me:
Yet, for your safety I endur'd it all,
Not for the love of Greatness, Heaven knows.

Daup.
No! no! not you.

Const.
Sir, I was born with Greatness;
I've Honour's, Titles, Power, here within.
All vain external Greatness I contemn.
Am I the higher for supporting Mountains?
The taller for a Flatterers humble bowing?
Have I more room for being throng'd with followers?
The larger Soul for having all my Thoughts
Fill'd with the Lumber of the State Affairs?
Honours and Riches are all splendid Vanities;
They are of chiefest use to Fools and Knaves.
A Fool indeed, has great need of a Title.
It teaches men to call him Count and Duke,
And to forget his proper name of Fool.
Gold is of use to every sort of Knave;
It helps the ambitious Knave to Offices,
Th'unjust contentious Knave to others Right,
The lustful Knave to others Wives and Daughters;
Then strow'd on all the Blots of a mans Life,
It does not only cover 'em, but guild 'em,
But what's all this to a wise innocent Man?

Daup.
Ay! such another as your self, good Man.

Bris.
Sir, cou'd an Actor make himself a God
By flying o're a Stage on golden Wires,
Then might he make himself an Honest Man
By mounting high on rich and golden Words.
But dares he boast thus of his Innocence,
Whose Treasons are most visible to all?
Has he not fill'd all France with Factions?
Orespread the Kingdom, like an Indian Tree,
With mighty Forests sprung out of himself?

Const.
Why shoud'd I do this, Sir? I wou'd not break
My sleep to get your Crown, what shou'd I do with 't?
Palsies wou'd shortly shake it from my Head.
Nor wou'd I care to leave it to my Son;
'Twill be all one to me when I am dead.
If he be Crown'd or Victim'd on my Tomb.
If he be Crown'd, his Glory will not shine
Into my Grave and warm my dust to see it.
If he be Victim'd there, I shall not feel it.
'Twill be no more to me than if they pluck'd
Some pretty flower that grew out o' my dust.

Daup.
Oh! pretty words! fine phrases!

K.
Well, Brisac.
Accusing him, proves not your innocent,
You first shall come to trial.

Bris.
Sir, I beg it.

Const.
Yes; and I beg, Sir, he may be secur'd.

Bris.
Load me with Fetters, keep me in a Dungeon.

Const.
Yes, you shall be secur'd, whilst they suspect you
Honest, but when you shall appear
That useful thing, a Knave, Court Witch-craft then
Shall mount you o're all Scaffolds, and all Gibbets,
Out of the reach of Justice.

Daup.
There's no Trick
So base; I will not play in thy opinion.

Bris.
Then to prevent all hopes of my escape,
I humbly beg, that I may be his Prisoner.

Daup.
His Prisoner?

K.
You are too concern'd to speak,
It shall be so.

Daup.
Come then, I give him to thee.
But hark! I'le have him weigh'd, and if thou dost
Return him to me lighter by one grain,
Thy flesh shall fifty-fold repay the loss;
If he shall lose one hair, I'le have thy head.

Const.
Oh! these are equal doings, but no matter,
I shall return him heavier than I had him,
For I have weighty Witnesses,—here's one.—

La For.
Who I?—

[Aside.
Const.
You must be one.—
[Aside.
I will draw in
This wary fool.—

[Aside.
Daup.
How! thou a witness, Villain.

La For.
Villain!—
Nay then I'le own my self a Witness
[Aside.
Yes, I'me a Witness, Sir.

Daup.
Oh! lying Slave!

K.
Be gone! I'le bear no more outragious carriage.

Daup.
I will obey you, Sir, remember Constable.

Exit.
K.
Now I'le this minute seize on both your Fortunes,
I'le leave you no materials for bribes.

Exit.
La For.
How's this!—

Const.
Am I thus serv'd?

La For.
You have engag'd me
In a fine business.

Const.
I will make thy Bowels
Sow up this Breach.

Bris.
Wilt thou abuse me then?

Const.
Away with him.
A Guard carry out Brisac.
I'le make him own all I have charg'd him with,
Or I will let the Sun behold his Entrails.
I scorn their threats; My son return's to day
With a brave Army.

La For.
And a Troop of Virtues.

Const.
I'le thrust my Principles or dagger in him;
I love my Power and Honour above him;
I got him in one night, I did not get
Honour so fast, I toyl'd for that some years.

La For.
Hence with your damn'd designs, if they succeed
You will be call'd a false ungrateful Villain,
To seek the ruine of that King from whom
You have received so many Royal Favours.

Const.
Old Favours are Old Almanacks, ne'r lookt on;
Who minds what Weather 'twas a year ago?
The last years Sun ripen's not this year's Fruit.
Nor am I a False Man, in being Wise,
For as the Money's false that's mixt with Brass,
So he is a False Man, who is an Ass.

Exeunt.
Trumpets enter at one door, the King and Train, La Marre among the Train: At the other, the Duke of Vendosme, followed by Officers.
K.
The Duke of Vendosme come! Welcome my Friend;
More welcome than the Victories thou bringst.

Duke,
You owe 'em to your Cause and gallant Army.

K.
Thou art to all men Just, but to thy self.

Du.
I do not love, Sir, like too many Generals,
To steal Renown out of the Publick Baggage.

K.
In stead of that thou givest away thy own;
Praise is the only thing thou runn'st away from.

D.
I'me not ambitious much of any Kingdom,
But least of all to have one in the Air;
Where, let a man have ner'e such large Dominion,
A Hurry-cane will be a greater Prince.
The force of that can tear up Trees and Rocks:
But all the stormy Praise that all the Heroes
Can by their blustring Swords collect together,
Cannot pull up one Stoick by the roots,
Who stands in full defiance of their madness.
How fond is it to toyl in the World's Forrest,
In hewing down Mankind, only to hear
Some hollow hearts eccho our mighty blows?
But 'tis more foolish to toyl all one's life
That Fame may toss our Ashes when we're dead.
So we have no repose living or dead.
They who are gone to rest in Marble Beds,
Sleep fast enough, and need no Wind to rock 'em.

K.
I ner'e thought Fame a lawful cause of War.

D.
Wars are good Physick when the World is sick.
But he who cut's the Throats of Men for Glory,
Is a vain savage Fool; he strives to build
Immortal Honours upon man's mortality,
And glory on the shame of humane Nature,
To prove himself a man by Inhumanity.
He puts whole Kingdoms in a blaze of War,
Only to still mankind into a Vapour;
Empties the World to fill an idle Story.
In short, I know not why he shou'd be honour'd,
And they that murder men for money hang'd.

K.
Thy Sentiments are great, and worthy of thee.

D.
I hate these potent Mad-men, who keep all
Man-kind awake, whilst they by their great deeds
Are drumming hard upon this hollow World,
Only to make a sound to last for Ages.
Yet Flatterers call these Mighty mad-men, Heroes.

K.
Yes, and they honour 'em with publick Triumphs.

D.
They shame 'em rather; for to me a Triumph
Appears a publick sacrifice to Insolence;
Adoring Pride as they did Plagues and Feavers.
If ever I had seen a Roman Triumph,
I shou'd ha' pittied the poor Conquerour,
To see the tender man fallen so sick,
By the ill favours of a field of slaughter,
That he came home with his Head bound with Laurel,
Gasping in Chariots for the Peoples breath.

K.
For ever cou'd I hear thee thus discourse;
But I have business must divert our talk.

D.
Yes Sir, I hear the King of England's landed.

K.
He is.

D.
He leads a very gallant Nation.
I've tried 'em oft in Battels and in Sieges.
They despise Walls and Trenches, they are so us'd
To cross the Ocean, they laugh at Trenches.

K.
My Son despises 'em.

D.
He's too brave.
His too hot Martial Fires burn out the Eyes
Of his clear Understanding.

K.
His too hot
Amorous Fires have kindled this ill War.

D.
Now dare not I enquire into this Story.
[Aside.
For I've been Thunder-stricken with report.

K.
If he be married, as I fear he is,
A War is like to be his fair Wife's Portion.
And a rich Portion too in the esteem
Of him, and his licentious followers.

Du.
War is the harvest Sir, of all ill men,
In War they may be Brutes with reputation.

K.
Now let me whisper thee about thy Father.

La Mar.
This Duke here keep's a talking with the King,
He hopes to hold himself up with his Wit—
Pshaw!—Wit's a thing will never do at Court.—

K.
Now Sir's, I charge you all, do not report
Or think the Duke is shaken in my favour,
Because his Father's fallen; his Father, like
A heavy lumbring beam in a house-top
Did rather press him down than hold him up;
To honour the Dukes merit then, shall be
Esteem'd by me as merit; and so Sirs embrace him.

La Ma.
Oh! I am in a very fine condition,
Who have affronted and oppos'd his Father.
I thought their damn'd great Family was ruin'd!
Pox o' these Court intrigues! a man is trapt
And snapt, he knows not how to turn himself.
Why is the King so fond of this same Vendosme?
He is no dresser, do but see how awkardly
His damn'd Crevat is tyed? Were I a King
I'de hang a man shou'd come into my presence
With such a damn'd Crevat, and tyed so slovenly.
Then he is no Dancer neither: What's he good for?
Oh! he is a Wit forsooth! Hang all these Witts?
They are good for nothing but to jear and scribble.
This Vendosme must be lov'd because his tongue
Hangs well, I wou'd his neck were hung as well.
But 'tis in vain to mutter, I must flatter him.
My noble Lord, your Graces humble Servant.

Du.
Honest La Marre, how dost?

La Ma.
Ever in health,
And in good Fortune when your Grace is so.

Du.
I thank thee good La Marre.

La Ma.
My Lord, Im'e tyed
By most particular strong Obligations
To your Grace's Family, I owe my Fortunes
To your most noble Fathers Love and Bounty.

Du.
I will succeed him in his Love to thee.

La Ma.
So now my Interest which was off the Hinges
Is haild on fast again; but I will go
Shortly behind the Door, and clinch the Nail;
I'le make him a particular Address
At his own Lodgings, and then all is done.
Then I'le not fail to make my Court to him
Almost at all his Levyes and his Couchees.

K.
Come in with me, my Lord,
I must talke more with you.

Exeunt.
Du.
I will attend you sir, my soul is troubled,
Where e're I go, I meet a wandring rumour,
Louize is the Dauphins secret Mistress.
I heard it in the Army, but the sound
Was then as feeble as the distant Murmurs
Of a great River mingling with the Sea.
But now I am come near this Rivers fall,
'Tis louder than the Cataracts of Nile.
If this be true—
Doomesday is near, and all the Heavens are falling.
I know not what to think of it, for every where
I meet a choaking dust, such as is made
After removing all a Palace Furniture;
If she be gone, the World, in my esteem,
Is all bare Walls; nothing remains in it
But Dust and Feathers; Like a Turkish Inne,
And the fowl Steps where Plunderers have been.

Exit.