THE REVENGE OF Bussy D'Ambois. A tragedy. As it hath been often presented at the private Playhouse in the Whitefriars. Written By GEORGE CHAPMAN, Gentleman.  
LONDON: Printed by T. S. and are to be sold by JOHN helm, at his Shop in S. Dunston's Churchyard, in Fleetstreet. 1613.   

TO THE RIGHT virtuous, AND truly Noble Knight, Sr. Thomas Howard. etc.  
Sir,  
SInce Works of this kind have been lately esteemed worthy the Patronage of some of our worthiest Nobles, I have made no doubt to prefer this of mine to your undoubted Virtue, and exceeding true Noblesse: as containing matter no less deserving your reading, and excitation to Heroical life, than any such late Dedication. Nor have the greatest Princes of italy, and other Countries, conceived it any least diminution to their greatness, to have their Names winged with these Tragic Plumes, and dispersed by way of Patronage, through the most Noble Notices of Europe.  
Howsoever therefore in the Scaenical presentation, it might meet with some maligners, yet considering, even therein, it passed with approbation of more worthy judgements; the Balance of their side (especially being held by your impartial hand) I hope will to no grain abide the outweighing. And for the authentical truth of either person or action, who (worth the respecting) will expect it in a Poem, whose subject is not truth, but things like truth? Poor envious souls they are that cavil at truths want in these natural fictions: material instruction, elegant and sententious excitation to Virtue, and deflection from her contrary; being the soul, limbs, and limits of an authentical Tragedy. But whatsoever merit of your full countenance and favour suffers defect in this, I shall soon supply with some other of more general account: wherein your right virtuous Name made famous and preserved to posterity, your future comfort and honour in your present acceptation, and love of all virtuous and divine expression; may be so much passed others of your Rank increased, as they are short of your judicial Ingenuity, in their due estimation.  
For, howsoever those Ignoble and sowrebrowed Worldlings are careless of whatsoever future, or present opinion spreads of them; yet (with the most divine Philosopher, if Scripture did not confirm it) I make it matter of my Faith; that we truly retain an intellectual feeling of Good or Bad after this life; proportionably answerable to the love or neglect we bear here to all Virtue, and truly-humane Instruction: In whose favour and honour I wish you most eminent; And rest ever.  
Your true Virtues most true observer, Geo. Chapman.   

The Actors names.  

HEnry, the King.  
Monsieur, his Brother.  
Guise. D.  
Renel, a marquis.  
Mont sureau, an Earl.  
Baligny, Lord Lieutenant.  
Clermont, D' Ambois. 

captains.  
Maillard.  
Challon.  
Aumal.    
Espernone.  
Soissone.  
Perricot.  
The Guard.  
soldiers.  
servants. 

The ghost of  
Bussy.  
Monsieur.  
Guise.  
Card Guise.  
Shattilion.     

Countess of Cambray.  
Tamyra, wife to Mont sureau.  
Charlotte, wife to Baligny.  
Riova, a Servant.    
THE REVENGE OF Bussy D'Ambois. A tragedy.  

Actus primi  
Scaena prima.  Enter Baligny, Renel. Baligny. 
TO what will this declining Kingdom turn,  
swingeing in every licence, as in this  
Stupid permission of brave D' Ambois Murder?  
Murder made parallel with Law? Murder used  
To serve the Kingdom, given by suit to men  
For their advancement? suffered scarecrow-like  
To fright adultery? what will policy  
At length bring under his capacity?  Rene. 
All things: for as when the high births of king's  
Deliverances, and Coronations,  
We celebrate with all the City's Bells  
(jangling together in untuned confusion:)  
All ordered Clocks are tied up: so when Glory,  
Flattery, and smooth applauses of things ill,  
Uphold th'inordinate swinge of downright power,  
justice, and truth, that tell the bounded use,  
Virtuous, and well distinguished forms of Time,  
Are gauged and tongue-tied, but we have observed  
Rule in more regular motion: things most lawful  
Were once most royal, Kings sought common good  
Men's manly liberties, though ne'er so mean,  
And had their own swinge so: more free, and more,  
But when pride entered them, and Rule by power,  
All brows that smiled beneath them, frowned; hearts grieved,  
By imitation; virtue quite was vanished,  
And all men studied self-love, fraud, and vice,  
Then no man could be good but he was punished:  
Tyrants being still more fearful of the good  
Then of the bad; their subjects virtues ever  
Managed with curbs, and dangers, and esteemed  
As shadows, and detractions to their own.  Bal. 
Now all is peace, no danger: now what follows?  
Idleness rusts us; since no virtuous labour  
Ends aught rewarded: Ease, Security  
Now all the Palm wears, we made war before  
So to prevent war, men with giving gifts  
More than receiving, made our Country strong;  
Our matchless race of Soldiers then would spend  
In public wars, not private brawls, their spirits;  
In daring Enemies, armed with meanest arms;  
Not courting strumpets, and consuming birthrights  
In Apishness, and envy of attire.  
No labour then was harsh, no way so deep,  
No rock so steep, but if a Bird could scale it,  
Up would our youth fly to. A Foe in arms  
Stirred up a much more lust of his encounter,  
Then of a Mistress never so bepainted:  
Ambition then, was only scaling walls;  
And overtopping turrets: Fame was wealth;  
Best parts, best deeds, were best Nobility;  
Honour with worth; and wealth well got or none.  
Countries we won with as few men as Countries.  
Virtue subdued all.  Ren. 
Just: and then our Nobles  
Loved virtue so, they praised and used it to;  
Had rather do, then say; their own deeds hearing  
By others glorified, then be so barren,  
That their parts only stood in praising others.  Bal. 
Who could not do, yet praised, and envied not;  
Civil behaviour flourished; Bounty flowed,  
Avarice to upland Boors, slaves hangmen banished.  Ren. 
'tis now quite otherwise; but to note the cause  
Of all these foul digressions, and revolts  
From our first natures, this 'tis in a word:  
Since good Arts fail, crafts and deceits are used:  
Men ignorant are idle; idle men  
Most practise what they most may do with ease,  
Fashion, and favour; all their studies aiming  
At getting money, which no wise man ever  
Fed his desires with.  Bal. 
Yet now none are wise  
That think not heavens true foolish, weighed with that.  
Well thou most worthy to be greatest Guise,  
Make with thy greatness a new world arise.  
Such depressed Nobles (followers of his)  
As you, myself, my Lord will find a time  
When to revenge your wrongs.  Ren. 
I make no doubt:  
In mean time, I could wish, the wrong were righted  
Of your slain Brother in law, brave Bussy D' Ambois.  Bal. 
That one accident was made my charge.  
My Brother Bussy's Sister (now my wife)  
By no suit would consent to satisfy  
My love of her, with marriage, till I vowed,  
To use my utmost to revenge my Brother:  
But Clermont D' Ambois (Bussy's second Brother)  
Had (since) his apparition, and excitement,  
To suffer none but his hand in his wreak,  
Which he hath vowed, and so will needs acquit  
Me of my vow, made to my wife, his Sister,  
And undertake himself Bussy's revenge;  
Yet loathing any way to give it act,  
But in the noblest and most manly course.  
(If th'earl dares take it) he resolves to send  
A Challenge to him, and myself must bear it,  
To which delivery I can use no means;  
He is so barricadoed in his house,  
And armed with guard still.  Ren. 
That means lay on me,  
Which I can strangely make. My last lands sale,  
By his great suit, stands now on price with him,  
And he (as you know) passing covetous,  
(With that blind greediness that follows gain)  
Will cast no danger, where her sweet feet tread.  
Besides, you know, his Lady by his suit,  
(Wooing as freshly, as when first love shot  
His faultless arrows from her rosy eyes)  
Now lives with him again, and she, I know,  
Will join with all helps, in her friend's revenge.  Bal. 
No doubt (my Lord) and therefore let me pray you  
To use all speed; for so on needle's points  
My wife's heart stands with haste of the revenge:  
Being (as you know) full of her brother's fire,  
That she imagines I neglect my vow;  
Keeps off her kind embraces, and still asks;  
When, when, will this revenge come? when performed  
Will this dull vow be? And I vow to Heaven  
So sternly, and so past her sex she urges  
My vows performance; that I almost fear  
To see her, when I have a while been absent,  
Not showing her before I speak, the blood  
She so much thirsts for, freckling hands and face,  Ren. 
Get you the Challenge writ, and look from me,  
To hear your passage cleared no long time after.  Exit Ren. Bal. 
All restitution to your worthiest Lordship,  
Whose errand I must carry to the King,  
As having sworn my service in the search  
Of all such malcontents, and their designs,  
By seeming one affected with their faction,  
And discontented humours 'gainst the state:  
Nor doth my brother Clermont scape my counsel  
Given to the King, about his Guisean greatness,  
Which (as I spice it) hath possessed the King  
(Knowing his daring spirit) of much danger:  
Charged in it to his person: though my conscience  
Dare swear him clear of any power to be  
Infected with the least dishonesty:  
Yet that sincerity, we Politicians  
Must say, grows out of envy, since it cannot  
Aspire to policy's greatness: and the more  
We work on all respects of kind, and virtue,  
The more our service to the King seems great,  
In sparing no good that seems bad to him:  
And the more bad, we make the most of good,  
The more our policy searcheth; and our service  
Is wondered at for wisdom and sincereness.  
'tis easy to make good suspected still,  
Where good, and God, are made but cloaks for ill.  Enter Henry, Monsieur, Guise, Clerm Espernone, Foisson, Monsieur taking leave of the King. 
See Monsieur taking now his leave for Brabant,  
The Guise, & his dear Minion, Clermont D'Ambois,  
Whispering together, not of state affairs  
I durst lay wagers, (though the Guise be now  
In chief heat of his faction) but of some thing,  
Savouring of that which all men else despise,  
How to be truly noble, truly wise.  Mors. 
See how he hangs upon the ear of Guise,  
Like to his jewel.  Esper. 
he's now whispering in  
Some doctrine of stability, and freedom,  
Contempt of outward greatness, and the guises  
That vulgar great ones make their pride and zeal,  
Being only servile trains, and sumptuous houses,  
High places, offices.  Mons. 
Contempt of these  
Does he read to the Guise? 'tis passing needful,  
And he, I think, makes show t'affect his doctrine.  Esp. 
Commends, admires it.  Mons. 
And pursues another,  
'tis fine hypocrisy, and cheap, and vulgar,  
Known for a covert practice, yet believed  
(By those abused souls, that they teach and govern)  
No more than Wives adulteries, by their Husbands,  
They bearing it with so unmoved aspects,  
Hot coming from it; as 'twere not all,  
Or made by custom nothing. This same D'Ambois  
Hath gotten such opinion of his virtues,  
(Holding all learning but an Art to live well,)  
And showing he hath learned it, in his life,  
Being thereby strong in his persuading others;  
That this ambitious Guise, embracing him,  
Is thought t'embrace his virtues.  Esp. 
Yet in some  
His virtues are held false for th'other's vices:  
For 'tis more cunning held, and much more common,  
To suspect truth than falsehood: and of both,  
Truth still fares worse; as hardly being believed,  
As 'tis unusual, and rarely known.  Mons. 
I'll part engendering virtue. Men affirm  
Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois spirit,  
And breathes his brother's valour; yet his temper  
Is so much passed his, that you cannot move him:  
I'll try that temper in him, Come, you two  
Devour each other with your virtues zeal,  
And leave for other friends, no fragment of ye:  
I wonder Guise, you will thus ravish him  
Out of my bosom, that first gave the life  
His manhood breathes, spirit, and means and luster.  
What do men think of me, I pray thee Clermont?  
Once give me leave (for trial of that love  
That from thy brother Bussy thou inheritest)  
T'unclasp thy bosom.  Cler. 
As how sir?  Mons. 
Be a true glass to me, in which I may  
Behold what thoughts the many headed-beast,  
And thou thyself breathes out concerning me,  
My ends, and new upstarted state in Brabant,  
For which I now am bound, my higher aims,  
Imagined here in France: speak man, and let  
Thy words be borne as naked as thy thoughts:  
O were brave Bussy living!  Cler. 
Living my Lord?  Mons. 
'tis true, thou art his brother, but durst thou  
Have braved the Guise: maugre his presence, courted  
His wedded Lady; emptied even the dregs  
Of his worst thoughts of me, even to my teeth;  
Discerned not me his rising sovereign  
From any common groom: but let me hear  
My grossest faults, as gross-ful as they were.  
Durst thou do this?  Cler. 
I cannot tell: A man  
Does never know the goodness of his stomach  
Till he sees meat before him. Were I dared,  
Perhaps as he was, I durst do like him.  Mons. 
Dare then to pour out here thy freest soul,  
Of what I am.  Cler. 
'tis stale, he told you it.  Mons. 
He only jested, spoke of spleen and envy;  
Thy soul more learned, is more ingenuous,  
Searching, judicial; let me then from thee  
Hear what I am.  Cler. 
What but the sole support,  
And most expectant hope of all our France,  
The toward victor of the whole low Countries?  Mons. 
Tush, thou wilt sing Encomions of my praise,  
Is this like D'Ambois? I must vex the Guise,  
Or never look to hear free truth; tell me,  
For Bussy lives not: he durst anger me,  
Yet for my love, would not have feared to anger  
The King himself. Thou understandest me, dost not?  Cler. 
I shall my Lord, with study.  Mons. 
Dost understand thyself? I pray thee tell me,  
Dost never search thy thoughts, what my design  
Might be to entertain thee and thy brother?  
What turn I meant to serve with you?  Cler. 
even what you please to think.  Mons. 
But what thinkst thou?  
Had I no end in't think'st?  Cler. 
I think you had  Mons. 
When I took in such two as you two were,  
A ragged couple of decayed Commanders,  
When a French-crown would plentifully serve  
To buy you both to any thing i'th' earth.  Cler. 
So it would you:  Mons. 
Nay bought you both outright,  
You and your Trunks: I fear me, I offend thee.  Cler. 
No not a jot.  Mons. 
The most renowned Soldier  
Epaminondas (as good Authors say)  
Had no more suits than backs, but you two shared  
But one suit twixt you both, when both your studies  
Were not what meat to dine with; if your Partridge,  
Your Snipe, your Woodcock, Lark, or your red Hearing,  
But where to beg it, whether at my house,  
Or at the Guises (for you know you were  
Ambitious beggars,) or at some Cooks-shop,  
T' eternize the cook's trust, and score it up.  
Dost not offend thee?  Cler. 
No sir. Pray proceed.  Mons. 
As for thy Gentry, I dare boldly take  
Thy honourable oath: and yet some say  
Thou and thy most renowned noble Brother,  
Came to the Court first in a Keel of sea-coal;  
Dost not offend thee?  Cler. 
Never doubt it, sir.  Mons. 
Why do I love thee then? why have I raked thee  
Out of the dunghill? cast my cast Wardrobe on thee?  
Brought thee to Court to, as I did thy Brother?  
Made ye my saucy bon companions?  
Taught ye to call our greatest Noble men  
By the corruption of their names; jack, Tom?  
Have I blown both for nothing to this bubble?  
Though thou art learned; thouhast no enchanting wit,  
Or were thy wit good, am I therefore bound  
To keep thee for my Table?  Cler. 
Well Sir, 'twere  
A good knight's place. Many a proud dubbed Gallant  
Seeks out a poor Knights living from such emrod's.  
Or what use else should I design thee to?  
Perhaps you'll answer me, to be my Pander.  Cler. 
Perhaps I shall.  Mons. 
Or did the sly Guise put thee  
Into my bosom, t'undermine my projects?  
I fear thee not; for though I be not sure  
I have thy heart, I know thy brainpan yet  
To be as empty a dull piece of wainscot  
As ever armed the scalp of any Courtier;  
A fellow only that consists of sinews;  
Mere Swisser, apt for any execution.  Cler. 
But killing of the King.  Mon. 
Right: now I see  
Thou understandest thyself.  Cler. 
I, and you better.  
You are a king's son borne.  Mons. 
Right.  Cler. 
And a king's brother.  Mons. 
True.  Cler. 
And might not any fool have been so too,  
As well as you?  Mons. 
A pox upon you.  Cler. 
You did no Princely deeds  
Ere you're borne (I take it) to deserve it;  
Nor did you any since that I have heard;  
Nor will do ever any, as all think.  Mons. 
The Devil take him. I'll no more of him.  Guise. 
Nay: stay my Lord and hear him answer you.  Mons. 
No more I swear. Farewell.  Ex. Mons. Guise. 
No more: Ill fortune.  Esper. Soiss. 
I, would have given a million to have heard  
His scoffs retorted: and the insolence  
Of his high birth and greatness (which were never  
Effects of his deserts, but of his fortune)  
Made show to his dull eyes, beneath the worth  
That men aspire to by their knowing virtues,  
Without which Greatness is a shade, a bubble.  Cler. 
But what one great man dreams of that, but you?  
All take their births and birthrights left to them  
(Acquired by others) for their own worths purchase,  
When many a fool in both, is great as they:  
And who would think they could win with their worths  
Wealthy possessions, when won to their hands,  
They neither can judge justly of their value,  
Nor know their use; and therefore they are puffed  
With such proud tumors as this Monsieur is:  
Enabled only by the goods they have,  
To scorn all goodness: none great, fill their fortunes,  
But as those men that make their houses greater,  
Their households being less, so Fortune raises  
Huge heaps of outside in these mighty men,  
And gives them nothing in them.  Guise. 
True as truth:  
And therefore they had rather drown their substance  
In superfluities of bricks and stones;  
(Like Sisyphus, advancing of them ever,  
And ever pulling down) then lay the cost  
Of any sluttish corner, on a man,  
Built with God's finger, and enstiled his Temple.  Bal. 
'tis nobly said, my Lord.  Guise. 
I would have these things  
Brought upon Stages, to let mighty Misers  
See all their grave and serious miseries, played,  
As once they were in Athens, and old Rome.  Cler. 
Nay, we must now have nothing brought on Stages,  
But puppetry, and pied ridiculous Antics:  
Men thither come, to laugh, and feed fool-fat,  
check at all goodness there, as being profaned:  
When wheresoever goodness comes, she makes  
The place still sacred; though with other feet  
Never so much 'tis scandaled, and polluted.  
Let me learn any thing that fits a man,  
In any Stables shown, as well as Stages.  Bal. 
Why? is not all the world esteemed a Stage?  Cler. 
Yes: and right worthily: and Stages too  
Have a respect due to them: if but only,  
For what the good Greek Moralists says of them;  
Is a man proud of greatness, or of riches?  
Give me an expert Actor; I'll show all,  
That can within his greatest glory fall.  
Is a man 'fraid with poverty and lowness?  
Give me an Actor, I'll show every eye  
What he laments so, and so much doth fly,  
The best and worst of both: if but for this then,  
To make the proudest outside that most swells,  
With things without him, and above his worth,  
See how small cause he has to be so blown up;  
And the most poor man, to be grieved with poorness,  
Both being so easily borne by expert Actors.  
The Stage and Actors are not so contemptful,  
As every innovating Puritan,  
And ignorant sweater out of zealous envy,  
Would have the world imagine. And beside,  
That all things have been likened to the mirth,  
Used upon Stages, and for Stages fitted.  
The splenative Philosopher that ever  
Laughed at them all, were worthy the enstaging:  
All objects, were they ne'er so full of tears,  
He so conceited, that he could distill thence  
Matter that still fed his ridiculous humour.  
Heard he a Lawyer, never so vehement pleading,  
He stood and laughed. Heard he a Tradesman swearing  
Never so thriftily (selling of his wares;)  
He stood and laughed. Heard he an holy brother,  
For hollow ostentation at his prayers  
Ne'er so impetuously; he stood and laughed.  
Saw he a great man never so insulting,  
Severely inflicting, gravely giving laws,  
Not for their good, but his; he stood and laughed.  
Saw he a youthful widow  
Never so weeping, wringing of her hands,  
For her lost Lord, still the Philosopher laughed:  
Now whether he supposed all these presentments,  
Were only maskeries, and wore false faces:  
Or else were simply vain, I take no care,  
But still he laughed, how grave soe'er they were.  Guise. 
And might right well (my Clermont) and for this  
Virtuous digression, we will thank the scoffs  
Of vicious Monsieur. But now for the main point  
Of your late resolution for revenge  
Of your slain friend.  Cler. 
I have here my Challenge,  
Which I will pray my Brother Baligny  
To bear the murderous Earl.  Bal. 
I have prepared  
Means for access to him, through all his Guard.  Guise. 
About it then, my worthy Baligny,  
And bring us the success.  Bal. 
I will my Lord.  Exeunt. Tamyra sola. Tamy. 
Revenge, that ever red sit'st in the eyes  
Of injured Ladies, till we crown thy brows  
With bloody Laurel; and receive from thee  
justice for all our humours injury,  
Whose wings none fly, that Wrath or Tyranny  
Have ruthless made, and bloody. Enter here,  
Enter, O enter: and, though length of time  
Never let's any scape thy constant justice,  
Yet now prevent that length. Fly, fly, and here  
Fix thy steel footsteps: Here, O here, where still  
Earth (moved with pity) yielded and embraced  
My loves fair figure, drawn in his dear blood,  
And marked the place, to show thee where was done  
The cruel'st murder that ere fled the Sun.  
O Earth! why keep'st thou not as well his spirit,  
To give his form life? No, that was not earthly:  
That (rarefying the thin and yielding air)  
Flew sparkling up into the Sphere of fire,  
Whence endless flames it sheds in my desire:  
Here be my daily pallet, here all nights  
That can be wrested from thy rivals arms;  
(O my dear Bussy) I will lie, and kiss  
Spirit into thy blood, or breath out mine  
In sighs, and kisses, and sad tunes to thine.  She sings. Enter Mont sur. Mont. 
Still on this haunt? Still shall adulterous blood  
Affect thy spirits? Think, for shame, but this,  
This blood that Cockatrice-like thus thou brood'st  
To dry is to breed any quench to thine.  
And therefore now (if only for thy lust  
A little covered with a vail of shame)  
Look out for fresh life, rather then witchlike,  
Learn to kiss horror, and with death engender.  
Strange cross in nature, purest virgin shame  
Lies in the blood, as lust lies; and together  
Many times mix too: and in none more shameful  
Than in the shamefaced. Who can then distinguish  
Twixt their affections; or tell when he meets  
With one not common? Yet, as worthiest Poets  
Shun common and plebeian forms of speech,  
Every illiberal and affected phrase  
To clothe their matter: and together tie  
Matter and form, with Art and decency.  
So worthiest women should shun vulgar guises,  
And though they cannot but fly out for change,  
Yet modesty, the matter of their lives,  
Be it adulterate, should be painted true  
With modest out-parts; what they should do still  
Graced with good show, though deeds be ne'er so ill.  Tamy. 
That is so far from all ye seek of us,  
That (though yourselves be common as the air)  
We must not take the air, we must not fit  
Our actions to our own affections:  
But as Geometricians (you still say)  
Teach that no lines, nor superficies,  
Do move themselves, but still accompany  
The motions of their bodies; so poor wives  
Must not pursue, nor have their own affections,  
But to their husband's earnests, and their jests,  
To their austerities of looks, and laughters,  
(Though ne'er so foolish and injurious)  
Like Parasites and slaves, fit their disposures.  Mont. 
I used thee as my soul, to move and rule me.  Tamy. 
So said you, when you wooed. So Soldiers tortured  
With tedious sieges of some well-walled Town,  
Propound conditions of most large contents,  
Freedom of Laws, all former government;  
But having once set foot within the Walls,  
And got the reins of power into their hands,  
Then do they tyrannize at their own rude swinges,  
Seize all their goods, their liberties, and lives,  
And make advantage, and their lusts, their laws.  Mons. 
But love me, and perform a wife's part yet,  
(With all my love before) I swear forgiveness.  Tamy. 
Forgiveness! that grace you should seek of me:  
These tortured fingers, and these stabbed-through arms  
Keep that law in their wounds yet, unobserved,  
And ever shall.  Mons. 
Remember their deserts.  Tam. 
Those with fair warnings might have been reformed,  
Not these unmanly rages. You have heard  
The fiction of the North wind and the Sun,  
Both working on a traveler, and contending  
Which had most power to take his cloak from him:  
Which when the Wind attempted, he roared out  
Outrageous blasts at him to force it off,  
That wrapped it closer on. When the calm Sun  
(The Wind once leaving) charged him with still beams,  
Quiet, and fervent, and therein was constant,  
Which made him cast off both his cloak and coat:  
Like whom should men do. If ye wish your Wives  
Should leave disliked things, seek it not with rage;  
For that enrages: what ye give, ye have:  
But use calm warnings, and kind manly means,  
And that in Wives most prostitute will win  
Not only sure amends; but make us Wives  
Better than those that ne'er led faulty lives.  Enter a Soldier. Sould. 
My Lord.  Mons. 
How now; would any speak with me?  Soul. 
ay, Sir.  Mons. 
Perverse, and traitorous miscreant:  
Where are your other fellows of my Guard?  
Have I not told you, I will speak with none,  
But Lord Renel?  Sould. 
And 'tis he that stays you.  Mons. 
O, is it he? 'tis well: attend him in.  
I must be vigilant: the Furies haunt me.  
Do you hear dame?  Enter Renel, with the Soldier. Ren. 
Be true now, for your lady's injured sake,  
Whose bounty you have so much cause to honour:  
For her respect is chief in this design,  
And therefore serve it, call out of the way  
All your confederate fellows of his Guard,  
Till Monsieur Baligny be entered here.  Sould. 
Upon your honour, my Lord shall be free  
From any hurt you say.  Ren. 
Free as myself. Watch then, and clear his entry.  Sould. 
I will not fail, my Lord.  Exit Soldier. Ren. 
God save your Lordship.  Mons. 
My noblest Lord Renel! past all men welcome.  
Wife, welcome his Lordship.  Osculatur. Ren. 
I much joy in your return here.  Tamy. 
You do more than I.  Mons. 
she's passionate still, to think we ever parted,  
By my too stern injurious jealousy.  Ren. 
'tis well your Lordship will confess your error  
In so good time yet.  Enter Baligny with a Challenge. Mons. 
Death! Who have we here?  
Ho! Guard! villains!  Bal. 
Why exclaim you so.  Mons. 
Negligent traitors! Murder, murder, murder.  Bal. 
You're mad. Had mine intent been so, like yours,  
It had been done ere this.  Ren. 
Sir, your intent,  
And action too, was rude to enter thus.  Bal. 
You're a decayed Lord to tell me of rudeness,  
As much decayed in manners as in means.  Ren. 
You talk of manners, that thus rudely thrust  
Upon a man that's busy with his Wife.  Bal. 
And kept your Lordship than the door.  Ren. 
The door?  Mont. 
Sweet Lord forbear. Show, show your purpose sir.  
To move such bold feet into others' roofs.  Bal. 
This is my purpose sir, from Clermont D'Ambois  
I bring this Challenge.  Mon. 
Challenge! I'll touch none.  Bal 
I'll leave it here then.  Ren. 
Thou shalt leave thy life first.  Mont. 
Murder, murder!  Ren. 
Retire my Lord; get off.  
Hold, or thy death shall hold thee. Hence my Lord.  Bal. 
There lie the Challenge.  They all fight and Bal. drives in Mont. Ren. 
Was not this well handled?  Exit Mont. Bal. 
Nobly my Lord. All thanks.  Exit Bal. Tamy 
I'll make him read it.  Exit Tamy. Ren. 
This was a sleight well-masked.  
O what is man,  
Unless he be a Politician!  Exit. 
Finis Actus primi.   

Actus secundi  
Scaena prima.  Henry, Baligny. Hen. 
COme Baligny, we now are private: Say,  
What service bring'st thou? make it short; the Guise  
(Whose friend thou seem'st) is now in Court, and near,  
And may observe us.  Bal. 
This sir, then in short.  
The faction of the Guise (with which my policy,  
For service to your Highness seems to join)  
Grows ripe, and must be gathered into hold;  
Of which my Brother Clermont being a part  
Exceeding capital, deserves to have  
A capital eye on him. And (as you may  
With best advantage, and your speediest charge,)  
Command his apprehension: which (because  
The Court, you know, is strong in his defence)  
we must ask Country swinge and open fields.  
And therefore I have wrought him to go down  
To Cambray with me (of which Government  
Your highness bounty made me your Lieutenant)  
Where when I have him, I will leave my house,  
And fain some service out about the confines,  
When in the mean time, if you please to give  
Command to my Lieutenant, by your Letters,  
To train him to some muster, where he may  
(Much to his honour) see for him, your forces  
Put into Battle; when he comes, he may  
With some close stratagem be apprehended:  
For otherwise your whole powers there will fail  
To work his apprehension: and with that  
My hand needs never be discerned therein.  Hen. 
Thanks honest Baligny.  Bal. 
Your Highness knows  
I will be honest; and betray for you  
Brother and Father: for, I know (my Lord)  
Treachery for Kings is truest Loyalty;  
Nor is to bear the name of Treachery,  
But grave, deep Policy. All acts that seem  
Ill in particular respects, are good  
As they respect your universal Rule.  
As in the main sway of the universe  
The supreme Rectors general decrees,  
To guard the mighty Globes of Earth and Heaven,  
Since they make good that guard to preservation  
Of both those in their order and first end,  
No man's particular (as he thinks) wrong  
Must hold him wronged: no, not though all men's reasons,  
All Law, all conscience, concludes it wrong.  
Nor is comparison a flatterer  
To liken you here to the King of kings;  
Nor any man's particular offence  
Against the world's sway; to offence at yours  
In any subject; who as little may  
Grudge at their particular wrong; if so it seem  
For th'universal right of your estate.  
As (being a Subject of the World's whole sway  
As well as yours; and being a righteous man  
To whom Heaven promises defence, and blessing,  
Brought to decay, disgrace, and quite defenceless)  
He may complain of Heaven for wrong to him.  Hen. 
'tis true: the Simile at all parts holds,  
As all good Subjects hold, that love our favour.  Bal. 
Which is our Heaven here; and a misery  
Incomparable, and most truly Hellish  
To live deprived of our king's grace and countenance,  
Without which best conditions are most cursed:  
Life of that nature, howsoever short,  
Is a most lingering, and tedious life;  
Or rather no life, but a languishing,  
And an abuse of life.  Hen. 
'tis well conceited.  Bal. 
I thought it not amiss to yield your Highness  
A reason of my speeches; lest perhaps  
You might conceive I flattered: which (I know)  
Of all ills under heaven you most abhor.  Hen. 
Still thou art right, my virtuous Baligny,  
For which I thank and love thee. Thy advise  
I'll not forget: Haste to thy Government,  
And carry D'Ambois with thee. So farewell.  Exit. Bal. 
Your Majesty fare ever like itself.  Enter Guise. Guise. 
My sure Friend Baligny!  Bal. 
Noblest of Princes!  Guise. 
How stands the State of Cambray?  Bal. 
Strong, my Lord,  
And fit for service: for whose readiness  
Your creature Clermont D'Ambois, and myself  
Ride shortly down.  Guise. 
That Clermont is my love;  
France never bred a nobler Gentleman  
For all parts: he exceeds his Brother Bussy.  Bal. 
ay, my Lord?  Guise. 
Far: because (besides his valour)  
He hath the crown of man, and all his parts,  
Which Learning is; and that so true and virtuous,  
That it gives power to do, as well as say  
whatever fits a most accomplished man;  
Which Bussy, for his valour's season, lacked;  
And so was rapt with outrage oftentimes  
Beyond Decorum; where this absolute Clermont,  
Though (only for his natural zeal to right)  
He will be fiery, when he sees it crossed;  
And in defence of it; yet when he lists  
He can contain that fire, as hid in Embers.  Bal. 
No question, he's a true, learned, Gentleman.  Guise. 
He is as true as Tides, or any Star  
Is in his motion: And for his rare learning,  
He is not (as all else are that seek knowledge)  
Of taste so much depraved, that they had rather  
Delight, and satisfy themselves to drink  
Of the stream troubled, wandering ne'er so far  
From the clear fount, then of the fount itself.  
In all; Rome's Brutus is reviv'd in him,  
Whom he of industry doth imitate.  
Or rather, as great Troy's Euphorbus was  
After Pythagoras; so is Brutus, Clermont.  
And (were not Brutus a Conspirator)  Bal. 
Conspirator, my Lord? Doth that impair him?  
Caesar began to tyrannize; and when virtue,  
Nor the religion of the Gods could serve  
To curb the insolence of his proud Laws,  
Brutus would be the God's just instrument.  
What said the Princess (sweet Antigone)  
In the grave Greek Tragedian, when the question  
Twixt her and Creon is, for laws of Kings?  
Which when he urges, she replies on him;  
Though his Laws were a king's, they were not Gods;  
Nor would she value Creon's written Laws  
With God's unwrit Edicts: since they last not  
This day and the next, but every day and ever;  
Where Kings Laws alter every day and hour,  
And in that change imply a bounded power.  Guise. 
Well, let us leave these vain disputings what  
Is to be done, and fall to doing something.  
When are you for your Government in Cambray?  Bal. 
When you command, my Lord.  Guise. 
Nay, that's not fit.  
Continue your designments with the King,  
With all your service; only if I send  
Respect me as your friend, and love my Clermont.  Bal. 
Your Highness knows my vows.  Guise. 
ay, 'tis enough.  Exit Guise. Manet Bal. Bal. 
Thus must we play on both sides, and thus hearten  
In any ill those men whose good we hate.  
king's may do what they list: and for Kings, Subjects,  
Either exempt from censure or exception:  
For, 
{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}, cc.  as no man's worth can be justly judged  
But when he shines in some authority; 
 , &c. Impossibile est viri cognoscere mentem ac voluntatem, priusquam in Magistratibus apparet. Sopho. Antig.   
So no authority should suffer censure  
But by a man of more authority.  
Great vessels into less are emptied never,  
There's a redundance past their continent ever.  
These virtuosos are the poorest creatures;  
For look how Spinners weave out of themselves  
Webs, whose strange matter none before can see;  
So these, out of an unseen good in virtue,  
Make arguments of right, and comfort, in her,  
That clothe them like the poor web of a Spinner.  Enter Clermont. Cler. 
Now, to my Challenge. What's the place, the weapon?  Bal. 
Soft sir: let first your Challenge be received.  
He would not touch, nor see it.  Cler. 
Possible!  
How did you then?  Bal. 
Left it, in his despite.  
But when he saw me enter so expectless,  
To hear his base exclaims of murder, murder,  
Made methink Noblesse lost, in him quick buried.  Cler. 
They are the breathing Sepulchres of Noblesse:  
No trulier noble men, than Lions pictures  
Hung up for signs, are Lions. 
Quo mollius degunt, eo servilius Exit . Who knows not,  
That lions the more soft kept, are more servile?  
And look how lions close kept, fed by hand,  
Lose quite th'innative fire of spirit and greatness  
That lions free breath, foraging for prey;  
And grow so gross, that mastiffs, curs, and mongrels  
Have spirit to cow them: So our soft French Nobles  
Chained up in ease and numbed security,  
Their spirits shrunk up like their covetous fists,  
And never opened but Domitian-like,  
And all his base obsequious minions  
When they were catching, though it were but flies.  
Besotted with their peasants' love of gain,  
Rusting at home, and on each other preying,  
Are for their greatness but the greater slaves,  
And none is noble but who scrapes and saves.  Bal. 
'tis base, 'tis base; and yet they think them high.  Cler. 
So Children mounted on their hobby-horse,  
Think they are riding, when with wanton toil  
They bear what should bear them. A man may well  
Compare them to those foolish great-spleened Camels,  
That to their high heads, begged of jove horns higher;  
Whose most uncomely, and ridiculous pride  
When he had satisfied, they could not use,  
But where they went upright before, they stooped, 
Simil.   
And bore their heads much lower for their horns.  
As these high men do, low in all true grace,  
Their height being privilege to all things base.  
And as the foolish Poet that still writ  
All his most self-loved verse in paper royal,  
Or Parchment ruled with Lead, smoothed with the Pumice;  
Bound richly up, and strung with Crimson strings;  
Never so blessed as when he writ and read  
The Ape-loved issue of his brain; and never  
But joying in himself; admiring ever:  
Yet in his works behold him, and he showed  
Like to a ditcher. So these painted men,  
All set on outside, look upon within,  
And not a peasant's entrails you shall find  
More foul and mezeled, nor more starved of mind.  Bal. 
That makes their bodies fat. I fain would know  
How many millions of our other Nobles  
Would make one Guise. There is a true tenth Worthy,  
Who (did not one act only blemish him.)  Cler. 
One act? what one?  Bal. 
One, that (though years past done)  
Sticks by him still, and will distain him ever.  Cler. 
Good Heaven! wherein? what one act can you name  
Supposed his stain, that I'll not prove his luster?  Bal. 
To satisfy you, 'twas the Massacre.  Cler. 
The Massacre? I thought 'twas some such blemish.  Bal. 
O it was heinous.  Cler. 
To a brutish sense,  
But not a manly reason. we so tender  
The vile part in us, that the part divine  
We see in hell, and shrink not. Who was first  
Head of that Massacre?  Bal. 
The Guise.  Cler. 
'tis nothing so.  
Who was in fault for all the slaughters made  
In Ilion, and about it? Were the Greeks?  
Was it not Paris ravishing the Queen  
Of Lacedaemon? Breach of shame and faith?  
And all the laws of Hospitality?  
This is the Beastly slaughter made of men,  
When Truth is overthrown, his Laws corrupted;  
When souls are smothered in the flattered flesh,  
Slain bodies are no more than Oxen slain.  Bal. 
Differ not men from Oxen?  Cler. 
Who says so?  
But see wherein; In the understanding rules  
Of their opinions, lives, and actions;  
In their communities of faith and reason.  
Was not the Wolf that nourished Romulus  
More human than the men that did expose him?  Bal. 
That makes against you.  Cler. 
Not sir, if you note  
That by that deed, the actions difference make  
Twixt men and beasts, and not their names nor forms.  
Had faith, nor shame, all hospitable rights  
been broke by Troy, Greece had not made that slaughter.  
Had that been saved (says a Philosopher)  
The Iliads and Odysses had been lost,  
Had Faith and true Religion been preferred,  
Religious Guise had never massacred,  Bal. 
Well sir, I cannot when I meet with you  
But thus digress a little, for my learning,  
From any other business I intend.  
But now the voyage, we resolved for Cambray,  
I told the Guise begins; and we must haste.  
And till the Lord Renel hath found some mean  
(Conspiring with the Countess) to make sure  
Your sworn wreak on her Husband (though this failed)  
In my so brave Command, we'll spend the time,  
Sometimes in training out in Skirmishes,  
And Battles, all our Troops and Companies;  
And sometimes breath your brave Scotch running horse,  
That great Guise gave you, that all th'horse in France  
Far overruns at every race and hunting  
Both of the Hare and deer. You shall be honoured  
Like the great Guise himself, above the King.  
And (can you but appease your great-spleened Sister,  
For our delayed wreak of your Brother's slaughter)  
At all parts you'll be welcomed to your wonder.  Cler. 
I'll see my Lord the Guise again before  
we take our journey.  Bal. 
O sir, by all means,  
You cannot be too careful of his love,  
That ever takes occasion to be raising  
Your virtues, past the reaches of this age,  
And ranks you with the best of th'ancient Romans.  Cler. 
That praise at no part moves me, but the worth  
Of all he can give others sphered in him.  Bal. 
He yet is thought to entertain strange aims.  Cler. 
He may be well; yet not as you think strange,  
His strange Aims are to cross the common Custom  
Of Servile Nobles; in which he's so ravished,  
That quite the Earth he leaves, and up he leaps,  
On Atlas' shoulders, and from thence looks down,  
Viewing how far off other high ones creep:  
Rich, poor of reason, wander; All pale looking,  
And trembling but to think of their sure deaths,  
Their lives so base are, and so rank their breaths.  
Which I teach Guise to heighten, and make sweet  
With life's dear odours, a good mind and name;  
For which, he only loves me, and deserves  
My love and life, which through all deaths I vow:  
Resolving this,( whatever change can be)  
Thou hast created, thou hast ruined me.  Exit. 
Finis Actus secundi.   

Actus tertij  
Scaena prima.  A march of Captains over the Stage. Maillard, Chalon, Aumall following with Soldiers. Mail. 
THese Troops and companies come in with wings:  
So many men, so armed, so gallant Horse,  
I think no other Government in France  
So soon could bring together. With such men  
methinks a man might pass th'insulting Pillars  
Of Bacchus and Alcides.  Chal. 
I much wonder  
Our Lord Lieutenant brought his brother down  
To feast and honour him, and yet now leaves him  
At such an instance.  Mail. 
'twas the king's Command:  
For whom he must leave Brother, Wife, friend, all things.  Aum. 
The confines of his Government, whose view  
Is the pretext of his Command, hath need  
Of no such sudden expedition.  Mail. 
we must not argue that. The king's Command  
Is need and right enough: and that he serves,  
(As all true Subjects should) without disputing.  Chal. 
But knows not he of your Command to take  
His Brother Clermont?  Mail. 
No: the Kings will is  
Expressly to conceal his apprehension  
From my Lord Governor. Observed ye not?  
Again peruse the Letters. Both you are  
Made my assistants, and have right and trust  
In all the weighty secrets like myself.  Aum. 
'tis strange a man that had, through his life past,  
So sure a foot in virtue and true knowledge,  
As Clermont D'Ambois, should be now found tripping,  
And taken up thus, so to make his fall  
More steep and headlong.  Mail. 
It is virtues fortune,  
To keep her low, and in her proper place.  
Height hath no room for her: But as a man  
That hath a fruitful wife, and every year  
A child by her, hath every year a month,  
To breath himself: where he that gets no child  
Hath not a night's rest (if he will do well.)  
So, let one marry this same barren Virtue,  
She never lets him rest: where fruitful vice  
Spares her rich drudge, gives him in labour breath;  
Feeds him with bane, and makes him fat with death,  Chal. 
I see that good lives never can secure  
Men from bad livers. Worst men will have best  
As ill as they, or heaven to hell they'll wrest.  Aum. 
There was a merit for this, in the fault  
That Bussy made, for which he (doing penance)  
Proves that these foul adulterous guilts will run  
Through the whole blood, which not the clear can shun.  Mail. 
I'll therefore take heed of the bastarding  
Whole innocent races; 'tis a fearful thing.  
And as I am true Bachelor, I swear,  
To touch no woman (to the coupling ends)  
Unless it be mine own wife or my friends.  
I may make bold with him.  Aum. 
'tis safe and common.  
The more your friend dares trust, the more deceive him.  
And as through dewy vapours the suns form  
Makes the gay Rainbow, girdle to a storm,  
So in hearts hollow, Friendship (even the Sun  
To all good growing in society)  
Makes his so glorious and divine name hold  
Colours for all the ill that can be told.  Mail. 
Hark, our last Troops are come.  Trumpets within. Chal. 
Hark, our last foot.  Drums beat. Mail. 
Come, let us put all quickly into battle,  
And send for Clermont, in whose honour, all  
This martial preparation we pretend.  Chal. 
we must bethink us ere we apprehend him,  
(Besides our main strength) of some stratagem  
To make good our severe Command on him;  
As well to save blood, as to make him sure:  
For if he come on his Scotch horse, all France  
Put at the heels of him, will fail to take him.  Mail. 
What think you if we should disguise a brace  
Of our best Soldiers in fair Lackeys coats,  
And send them for him, running by his side,  
Till they have brought him in some ambuscado  
We close may lodge for him; and suddenly  
Lay sure hand on him, plucking him from horse.  Aum. 
It must be sure and strong hand: for if once  
he feels the touch of such a stratagem,  
'tis not the choicest brace of all our Bands  
Can manacle, or quench his fiery hands.  Mail. 
When they have seized him, the ambush shall make in.  Aum. 
Do as you please; his blameless spirit deserves  
(I dare engage my life) of all this, nothing.  Chal. 
Why should all this stir be then?  Aum. 
Who knows not  
The bombast polity thrusts into his Giant,  
To make his wisdom seem of size as huge,  
And all for sleight encounter of a shade,  
So he be touched, he would have heinous made?  Mail. 
It may be once so; but so ever, never;  
Ambition is abroad, on foot, on horse;  
Faction chokes every corner, street, the Court,  
Whose faction 'tis you know: and who is held  
The fautors right hand: how high his aims reach,  
Nought but a Crown can measure. This must fall  
Past shadows weights; and is most capital.  Chal. 
No question; for since he is come to Cambray  
The malcontent, decayed marquess Renel,  
Is come, and new arrived; and made partaker  
Of all the entertaining Shows and Feasts  
That welcomed Clermont to the brave Virago  
His manly Sister. Such we are esteemed  
As are our comforts. marquess malcontent  
Comes where he knows his vain hath safest vent.  Mail. 
Let him come at his will, and go as free,  
Let us ply Clermont, our whole charge is he.  Exit. Enter a Gentleman Usher before Clermont: Renel, Charlotte, with two women attendants, with others: shows having past within. Char. 
This for your Lordship's welcome into Cambray.  Ren. 
Noblest of Ladies, 'tis beyond all power  
(Were my estate at first full) in my means  
To quit or merit.  Cler. 
You come something latter  
From Court my Lord than I: And since news there  
Is every day increasing with th'affairs,  
Must I not ask now, what the news is there?  
Where the Court lies? what stir? change? what advice  
From England, italy.  Ren. 
You must do so,  
If you'll be called a Gentleman well qualified,  
And wear your time and wits in those discourses.  Cler. 
The Locrian Princes therefore were brave Rubers;  
For whosoever there came new from Country,  
And in the City asked, what news? was punished:  
Since commonly such brains are most delighted  
With innovations, gossip's tales, and mischiefs:  
But as of lions it is said and Eagles,  
That when they go, they draw their seeres and talons  
Close up, to shun rebating of their sharpness:  
So our wit's sharpness, which we should employ  
In noblest knowledge, we should never waste  
In vile and vulgar admirations.  Ren. 
'tis right: but who, save only you, performs it,  
And your great brother? madam, where is he?  Char. 
Gone a day since, into the country's confines,  
To see their strength, and readiness for service.  Ren. 
'tis well: his favour with the King hath made him  
Most worthily great, and live right royally.  Cler. 
I: Would he would not do so. Honour never  
Should be esteemed with wise men, as the price  
And value of their virtuous Services,  
But as their sign or Badge: for that bewrays  
More glory in the outward grace of goodness,  
Then in the good itself; and then 'tis said:  
Who more joy takes, that men his good advance,  
Then in the good itself, does it by chance.  Char. 
My brother speaks all principle; what man  
Is moved with your soul? or hath such a thought  
In any rate of goodness?  Cher. 
'tis their fault.  
We have examples of it, clear and many.  
Demetrius Phalerius, an Orator,  
And (which not oft meet) a Philosopher,  
So great in Athens grew, that he erected  
Three hundred Statues of him; of all which,  
No rust, nor length of time corrupted one;  
But in his life time, all were overthrown.  
And Demades (that past Demosthenes  
For all extemporal Orations)  
Erected many Statues, which (he living)  
Were broke, and melted into Chamberpots.  
Many such ends have fallen on such proud honours,  
No more because the men on whom they fell  
Grew insolent, and left their virtues state;  
Then for their hugeness, that procured their hate:  
And therefore little pomp in men most great,  
Makes mightily and strongly to the guard  
Of what they win by chance, or just reward.  
Great and immodest braveries again,  
Like Statues, much too high made for their bases,  
Are overturned as soon, as given their places.  Enter a Messenger with a Letter. Messen. 
Here is a Letter sir delivered me,  
Now at the foregate by a Gentleman.  Cler. 
What Gentleman?  Mess. 
He would not tell his name;  
He said, he had not time enough to tell it,  
And say the little rest he had to say.  Cler. 
That was a merry saying; he took measure  
Of his dear time like a most thrifty husband.  Char. 
What news?  Cler. 
Strange ones, and fit for a Novation;  
Weighty, unheard of, mischievous enough.  Ren. 
Heaven shield: what are they?  Cler. 
Read them, good my Lord.  Ren. 
You are betrayed into this Country. Monstrous!  Char. 
How's that?  Cler. 
Read on.  Ren. 
Maillard. you brother's Lieutenant, that yesterday invited you to see his Musters; hath Letters and strict Charge from the King to apprehend you.  Char. 
To apprehend him?  Ren. 
Your Brother absents himself of purpose.  Cler. 
That's a sound one.  Char. 
That's a lie.  Ren. 
Get on your Scotch horse, and retire to your strength; you know where it is, and there it expects you: Believe this as your best friend had sworn it. Farewell if you will. Anonymos. What's that?  Cler. 
Without a name.  Charl. 
And all his notice too, without all truth.  Cler. 
So I conceive it Sister: i'll not wrong  
My well known Brother for Anonymos,  Charl. 
Some fool hath put this trick on you, yet more  
T'uncover your defect of spirit and valour.  
First shown in lingering my dear Brother's wreak.  
See what it is to give the envious World  
Advantage to diminish eminent virtue.  
Send him a Challenge? Take a noble course  
To wreak a murder, done so like a villain?  Cler. 
Shall we revenge a villainy with villainy?  Char. 
Is it not equal?  Cler. 
Shall we equal be  
With villains?  
Is that your reason?  Char. 
Cowardice evermore  
Flies to the shield of Reason.  Cler. 
Nought that is  
Approved by Reason, can be Cowardice.  Charl. 
Dispute when you should fight. Wrong wreakless  
Makes men die honourless: One borne, another (sleeping,  
Leaps on our shoulders.  Cler. 
we must wreak our wrongs  
So, as we take not more.  Char. 
One wreaked in time  
Prevents all other. Then shines virtue most  
When time is found for facts; and found, not lost.  Cler. 
No time occurs to Kings, much less to Virtue;  
Not can we call it Virtue that proceeds  
From vicious Fury. I repent that ever  
(By any instigation in th'appearance  
My Brother's spirit made, as I imagined)  
That e'er I yielded to revenge his murder.  
All worthy men should ever bring their blood  
To bear all ill, not to be wreaked with good:  
Do ill for no ill: Never private cause  
Should take on it the part of public Laws.  Char. 
A D'Ambois bear in wrong so tame a spirit!  Ren. 
madam, be sure there will be time enough  
For all the vengeance your great spirit can wish.  
The course yet taken is allowed by all,  
Which being noble, and refused by th'earl,  
Now makes him worthy of your worst advantage:  
And I have cast a project with the Countess  
To watch a time when all his wariest Guards  
Shall not exempt him. Therefore give him breathe;  
Sure Death delayed is a redoubled Death.  Cler. 
Good Sister trouble not yourself with this:  
Take other ladies care; practise your face.  
There's the chaste Matron, madam Perigot,  
Dwells not far hence, I'll ride and send her to you,  
She did live by retailing maidenheads  
In her minority: but now she deals  
In wholesale altogether for the Court.  
I tell you, she's the only fashion-monger,  
For your complexion, powdering of your hair,  
Shadows, Rebates, Wires, tires, and such tricks,  
That Cambray, or I think, the Court affords:  
She shall attend you Sister, and with these  
Womanly practises imply your spirit;  
This other suits you not, nor fits the fashion.  
Though she be dear, lay't on, spare for no cost,  
Ladies in these have all their bounties lost.  Ren. 
madam, you see, his spirit will not check  
At any single danger; when it stands  
Thus merrily firm against an host of men,  
threatened to be arms for his surprise.  Char. 
That's a mere Bugbear, an impossible mock,  
If he, and him I bound by nuptial faith  
Had not been dull and drossy in performing  
Wreak of the dear blood of my matchless Brother,  
What Prince? what King? which of the desperate Ruffings,  
Outlaws in Acden, durst have tempted thus  
One of our blood and name, be't true or false.  Cler. 
This is not caused by that: 'twill be as sure  
As yet it is not, though this should be true.  Char. 
True? 'tis past thought false.  Cler. 
I suppose the worst,  
Which far I am from thinking; and despise  
The Army now in battle that should act it.  Cler. 
I would not let my blood up to that thought,  
But it should cost the dearest blood in France.  Cler. 
Sweet Sister, [osculatur ]far be both off as the fact  
Of my feigned apprehension.  Char. 
I would once  
Strip off my shame with my attire, and try  
If a poor woman, votist of revenge  
Would not perform it, with a precedent  
To all you bungling foggy-spirited men;  
But for our birthrights honour, do not mention  
One syllable of any word may go  
To the begetting of an act so tender,  
And full of sulphur as this Letters truth:  
It comprehends so black a circumstance  
Not to be named; that but to form one thought,  
It is, or can be so; would make me mad:  
Come my Lord, you and I will fight this dream  
Out at the Chess.  Ren. 
Most gladly, worthiest Lady.  Exit Char. and Ren. Enter a Messenger. Mess. 
Sir, my Lord governors Lieutenant prays  
Access to you.  Cler. 
Himself alone?  Mess. 
Alone, sir.  Cler. 
Attend him in. [Exit Mess. ]Now comes this plot to trial,  
I shall discern (if it be true as rare)  
Some sparks will fly from his dissembling eyes.  
I'll sound his depth.  Enter Maillard with the Messenger. Maill. 
Honour, and all things noble.  Cler. 
As much to you good Captain. What's th'affair.  Mail. 
Sir, the poor honour we can add to all  
Your studied welcome to this martial place,  
In presentation of what strength consists  
My Lord your Brother's Government is ready.  
I have made all his Troops and Companies  
Advance, and put themselves ranged in battalia,  
That you may see, both how well armed they are;  
How strong is every troup and Company;  
How ready, and how well prepared for service,  Cler. 
And must they take me?  Mail. 
Take you, sir? O Heaven!  Mess 
Believe it sir, his countenance changed in turning.  Mail. 
What do you mean sir?  Cler. 
If you have charged them,  
You being charged yourself, to apprehend me,  
Turn not your face: throw not your looks about so.  Mail. 
Pardon me sir. You amaze me to conceive  
From whence our wills to honour you, should turn  
To such dishonour of my Lord your Brother.  
Dare I, without him, undertake your taking?  Cler. 
Why not? by your direct charge from the King?  Mail. 
By my charge from the King? would he so much  
Disgrace my Lord, his own Lieutenant here,  
To give me his Command without his forfeit?  Cler. 
Acts that are done by Kings, are not asked why.  
I'll not dispute the case, but I will search you.  Mail. 
Search me? for what?  Cler. 
For Letters.  Mail. 
I beseech you,  
Do not admit one thought of such a shame  
To a Commander.  Cler. 
Go to: I must do't.  
Stand and be searched; you know me.  Mail. 
You forget  
What 'tis to be a Captain, and yourself.  Cler. 
Stand, or I vow to heaven, I'll make you lie  
Never to rise more.  Mail. 
If a man be mad  
Reason must bear him.  Cler. 
So coy to be searched?  Mail. 
'Sdeath sir, use a Captain like a Carrier.  Cler. 
Come, be not furious; when I have done  
You shall make such a Carrier of me  
If't be your pleasure: you're my friend I know,  
And so am bold with you.  Mail. 
You'll nothing find  
Where nothing is.  Cler. 
Swear you have nothing.  Mail. 
Nothing you seek, I swear, I beseech you,  
Know I desired this out of great affection,  
To th'end my Lord may know out of your witness,  
His Forces are not in so bad estate  
As he esteemed them lately in your hearing:  
For which he would not trust me with the Confines;  
But went himself to witness their estate.  Cler. 
I heard him make that reason, and am sorry  
I had no thought of it before I made  
Thus bold with you; since 'tis such rhubarb to you.  
I'll therefore search no more. If you are charged  
(By Letters from the King, or otherwise)  
To apprehend me; never spice it more  
With forced terms of your love, but say: I yield;  
Hold; take my sword; here; I forgive thee freely;  
Take; do thine office.  Mail. 
'sfoot, you make m'a hangman:  
By all my faith to you, there's no such thing.  Cler. 
Your faith to me?  Mail. 
My faith to God: All's one,  
Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none.  Cler. 
In that sense I accept your oath, and thank you.  
I gave my word to go, and I will go.  Exit Cler. Mail. 
I'll watch you whither.  Exit Mail. Mess. 
If he goes, he proves  
How vain are men's fore knowledges of things,  
When heaven strikes blind their powers of note and use;  
And makes their way to ruin seem more right,  
Then that which safety opens to their sight.  
Cassandra's prophecy had no more profit  
With Troy's blind Citizens, when she foretold  
Troy's ruin: which succeeding, made her use  
This sacred Inclamation; God (said she)  
Would have me utter things uncredited:  
For which now they approve what I presaged;  
They count me wise, that said before I raged.  Enter chalon with two Soldiers. Chal. 
Come Soldiers: you are downwards fit for lackeys;  
Give me your Pieces, and take you these Coats,  
To make you complete footmen: in whose forms  
You must be complete Soldiers: you two only  
Stand for our Army.  1 
That were much.  Chal. 
'tis true,  
You two must do, or enter, what our Army  
Is now in field for.  2 
I see then our guerdon  
Must be the deed itself, 'twill be such honour:  Chal. 
What fight Soldiers most for?  1 
Honour only.  Chal. 
Yet here are crowns beside.  Ambo. 
We thank you Captain.  2 
Now sir, how show we?  Chal. 
As you should at all parts.  
Go now to Clermont D'Ambois, and inform him,  
Two Battles are set ready in his honour,  
And stay his presence only for their signal,  
When they shall join: and that t'attend him hither,  
Like one we so much honour, we have sent him  1 
Us two in person.  Chal. 
Well sir, say it so.  
And having brought him to the field, when I  
Fall in with him, saluting, get you both  
Of one side of his horse, and pluck him down,  
And I with th'ambush laid, will second you.  1 
Nay, we shall lay on hands of too much strength  
To need your secondings.  2 
I hope, we shall.  
Two are enough to encounter Hercules.  Chal. 
'tis well said worthy Soldiers: haste, and hast him.  Enter Clermont, Maillard close following him. Cler. 
My Scotch horse to their Army.  Mail. 
Please you sir?  Cler. 
'sdeath you're passing diligent.  Mail. 
Of my soul  
'tis only in my love to honour you  
With what would grace the King: but since I see  
You still sustain a jealous eye on me,  
I'll go before.  Cler. 
'tis well; I'll come; my hand.  Mail. 
Your hand sir? Come, your word, your choice be used.  Exit. Clermont solus. Cler. 
I had an aversation to this voyage,  
When first my Brother moved it; and have found  
That native power in me was never vain;  
Yet now neglected it. I wonder much  
At my inconstancy in these decrees,  
I every hour set down to guide my life.  
When Homer made Achilles passionate,  
Wrathful, revengeful, and insatiate  
In his affections; what man will deny,  
He did compose it all of industry,  
To let men see, that men of most renown,  
Strongest, noblest, fairest, if they set not down  
Decrees within them, for disposing these,  
Of judgement, Resolution, Uprightness,  
And certain knowledge, of their use and ends  
Mishap and misery no less extends  
To their destruction; with all that they prized,  
Then to the poorest, and the most despised.  Enter Renel. Ren. 
Why, how now friend? retired? take heed you prove not  
Dismayed with this strange fortune: all observe you.  
Your government's as much marked as the Kings.  
What said a friend to Pompey?  Cler. 
What?  Ren. 
The people  
Will never know, unless in death thou try,  
That thou know'st how to bear adversity.  Cler. 
I shall approve how vile I value fear  
Of death at all times: but to be too rash,  
Without both will and care to shun the worst,  
(It being in power to do, well and with cheer)  
Is stupid negligence, and worse than fear.  Ren. 
Suppose this true now.  Cler. 
No, I cannot do't.  
My sister truly said; there hung a tail  
Of circumstance so black on that supposure,  
That to sustain it thus, abhorred our metal.  
And I can shun it too, in spite of all:  
Not going to field: and there to, being so mounted  
As I will, since I go.  Ren. 
You will then go?  Cler. 
I am engaged both in my word, and hand;  
But this is it, that makes me thus retired,  
To call myself t'account, how this affair  
Is to be managed if the worst should chance:  
With which I note, how dangerous it is,  
For any man to press beyond the place,  
To which his birth, or means, or knowledge ties him;  
For my part, though of noble birth my birthright  
Had little left it, and I know 'tis better  
To live with little; and to keep within  
A man's own strength still, and in man's true end,  
Then run a mixed course. Good and bad hold never  
Any thing common: you can never find  
Things outward care, but you neglect your mind.  
God hath the whole world perfect made and free;  
His parts to th'use of th'all; men then that are  
Parts of that all, must as the general sway  
Of that importeth, willingly obey  
In every thing without their power to change.  
He that unpleased, to hold his place, will range,  
Can in no other be contained that's fit,  
And so resisting th'All, is crushed with it.  
But he that knowing how divine a Frame  
The whole world is: and of it all, can name  
(Without self-flattery) no part so divine,  
As he himself; and therefore will confine  
Freely, his whole powers, in his proper part,  
Goes on most Godlike. He that strives t'invert  
The universal's course with his poor way,  
Not only dust-like shivers with the sway,  
But crossing God in his great work; all earth  
Bears not so cursed, and so damned a birth.  Ren. 
Go, on; I'll take no care what comes of you;  
Heaven will not see it ill, howe'er it show:  
But the pretext to see these Battles ranged  
Is much your honour.  Cler. 
As the world esteems it.  
But to decide that; you make me remember  
An accident of high and noble note,  
And fits the subject of my late discourse,  
Of holding on our free and proper way.  
I overtook, coming from italy,  
In germany, a great and famous Earl  
Of England; the most goodly fashioned man  
I ever saw: from head to foot in form  
Rare, and most absolute; he had a face  
Like one of the most ancient honoured Romans,  
From whence his noblest Family was derived;  
He was beside of spirit passing great,  
Valiant, and learned, and liberal as the Sun,  
Spoke and writ sweetly, or of learned subjects,  
Or of the discipline of public weals;  
And 'twas the Earl of Oxford: and being offered  
At that time, by Duke Cassimere, the view  
Of his right royal Army then in field;  
Refused it, and no foot was moved, to stir  
Out of his own free fore-determined course:  
I wondering at it, asked for it his reason,  
It being an offer so much for his honour.  
He, all acknowledging, said, 'twas not fit  
To take those honours that one cannot quit.  Ren. 
'twas answered like the man you have described.  Cler. 
And yet he cast it only in the way,  
To stay and serve the world. Nor did it fit  
His own true estimate how much it weighed,  
For he despised it; and esteemed it freer  
To keep his own way straight, and swore that he  
Had rather make away his whole estate  
In things that crossed the vulgar, than he would  
Be frozen up, stiff, like a sir john Smith  
(His Countryman) in common Nobles fashions;  
Affecting, as the end of Noblesse were  
Those servile observations.  Ren. 
It was strange.  Cler. 
O 'tis a vexing sight to see a man  
Out of his way, stalk, proud as he were in;  
Out of his way to be officious,  
Observant, wary, serious, and grave,  
Fearful, and passionate, insulting, raging,  
Labour with iron Flails, to thrash down feathers  
Flitting in air.  Ren. 
What one considers this,  
Of all that are thus out? or once endeavours,  
Erring to enter, on man's Right-hand path?  Cler. 
These are too grave for brave wits: give them toys,  
Labour bestowed on these is harsh and thriftless.  
If you would Consul be (says one) of Rome,  
You must be watching, starting out of sleeps;  
Every way whisking; glorifying Plebeians,  
Kissing Patricians hands, Rot at their doors;  
Speak and do basely; every day bestow  
Gifts and observance upon one or other:  
And what's th'event of all? twelve Rods before thee,  
Three or four times sit for the whole Tribunal.  
Exhibit Circean Games; make public feasts,  
And for these idle outward things (says he)  
Wouldst thou lay on such cost, toil, spend thy spirits.  
And to be void of perturbation  
For constancy: sleep when thou wouldst have sleep,  
Wake when thou wouldst wake, fear nought, vex for nought,  
No pains wilt thou bestow? no cost? no thought?  Ren. 
What should I say? as good consort with you,  
As with an Angel: I could hear you ever.  Cler. 
Well; in, my Lord, and spend time with my Sister;  
And keep her from the Field with all endeavour;  
The Soldiers love her so; and she so madly  
Would take my apprehension, if it chance,  
That blood would flow in rivers.  Ren. 
Heaven forbid;  
And all with honour your arrival speed.  Exit. Enter Messenger with two Soldiers like Lackeys. Mess. 
Here are two Lackeys sir, have message to you.  Cler. 
What is your message? and from whom, my friends?  1 
From the Lieutenant Colonel, and the Captains,  
Who sent us to inform you, that the Battles  
Stand ready ranged, expecting but your presence,  
To be their honoured signal when to join,  
And we are charged to run by, and attend you.  Cler. 
I come. I pray you see my running horse  
Brought to the back-gate to me.  Mess. 
Instantly.  Exit Mess. Cler. 
Chance what can chance me; well or ill is equal  
In my acceptance, since I joy in neither;  
But go with sway of all the world together.  
In all successes, Fortune and the day  
To me alike are; I am fixed, be she  
Never so fickle; and will there repose,  
Far past the reach of any die she throws.  Ex. cum Pediss. 
Finis Actus tertij.   

Actus quarti  
Scaena prima.  Alarum within: Excursions over thee Stage. The Lackeys running, Maillard following them. Mail. 
villains, not hold him when ye had him down.  1 
Who can hold lightning? 'Sdeath a man as well  
Might catch a Canon Bullet in his mouth,  
And spit it in your hands, as take and hold him.  Mail. 
Pursue; enclose him; stand, or fall on him,  
And ye may take him. 'Sdeath, they make him guards.  Exit. Alarum still, and enter Chalon. Chal. 
Stand Cowards, stand, strike, send your bullets at him.  1 
we came to entertain him sir, for honour.  2 
Did ye not say so?  Chal. 
Slaves, he is a traitor;  
Command the horse troops to overrun the traitor.  Exit. Shouts within. Alarum still. and Chambers shot off. Then enter Aumall. Aum. 
What spirit breathes thus, in this more than man,  
Turns flesh to air possessed, and in a storm,  
Tears men about the field like Autumn leaves?  
He turned wild lightning in the Lackeys hands,  
Who, though their sudden violent twitch unhorsed him,  
Yet when he bore himself, their saucy fingers  
Flew as too hot off, as he had been fire.  
The ambush then made in, through all whose force,  
He drove as if a fierce and fire given Canon  
Had spit his iron vomit out amongst them.  
The Battles then, in two halfmoons enclosed him,  
In which he show'd, as if he were the light,  
And they but earth, who wondering what he was;  
Shrunk their steel horns, and gave him glorious pass,  
And as a great shot from a town besieged,  
At foes before it, flies forth black and roaring,  
But they too far, and that with weight oppressed,  
(As if disdaining earth) doth only grass,  
Strike earth, and up again into the air;  
Again sinks to it, and again doth rise,  
And keeps such strength that when it softliest moves,  
It piecemeal shivers any let it proves:  
So flew brave Clermont forth, till breath forsook him,  
Then fell to earth, and yet (sweet man) even than  
His spirits convulsions made him bound again,  
Past all their reaches; till all motion spent,  
His fixed eyes cast a blaze of such disdain,  
All stood and stared, and untouched let him lie,  
As something sacred fallen out of the sky.  A cry within. 
O now some rude hand hath laid hold on him!  Enter Maillard, Chalon leading Clermont, Captains and Soldiers following. 
See, prisoner led, with his bands honoured more,  
Than all the freedom he enjoyed before.  Mail. 
At length we have you sir.  Cler. 
You have much joy too,  
I made you sport yet, but I pray you tell me,  
Are not you perjured?  Mail. 
No: I swore for the King.  Cler. 
Yet perjury I hope is perjury.  Mail. 
But thus forswearing is not perjury;  
You are no Politician: not a fault,  
How foul soever, done for private ends,  
Is fault in us sworn to the public good:  
we never can be of the damned crew,  
we may impolitic ourselves (as 'twere)  
Into the kingdoms body politic,  
Whereof indeed we're members: you miss terms.  Cler. 
The things are yet the same.  Mail. 
'tis nothing so: the property is altered:  
You're no Lawyer. Or say that oath and oath  
Are still the same in number, yet their species  
Differ extremely, as for flat example,  
When politic widows try men for their turn,  
Before they wed them, they are harlots then,  
But when they wed them, they are honest women:  
So, private men, when they forswear, betray,  
Are perjured treachers, but being public once,  
That is, sworn-married to the public good.  Cler. 
Are married women public?  Mail. 
Public good,  
For marriage makes them, being the public good,  
And could not be without them. So I say  
Men public, that is, being sworn-married  
To the good public, being one body made  
With the realms body politic, are no more  
Private, nor can be perjured, though forsworn,  
More than a widow married, for the act  
Of generation is for that an harlot,  
Because for that she was so, being unmarried:  
An argument a paribus.  Chal. 
'tis a shrewd one.  Cler. 
Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none:  
Retain you that Sir? who said so?  Mail. 
'twas I.  Cler. 
Thy own tongue damn thy infidelity.  
But Captains all you know me nobly borne,  
Use ye t'assault such men as I with Lackeys.  Chal. 
They are no Lackeys sir, but Soldiers,  
Disguised in Lackeys coats.  1 
Sir, we have seen the enemy.  Cler. 
avant ye Rascals, hence.  Mail. 
Now leave your coats.  Cler. 
Let me not see them more.  Aum. 
I grieve that virtue lives so undistinguished  
From vice in any ill, and though the crown  
Of Sovereign Law; she should be yet her footstool,  
Subject to censure, all the shame and pain  
Of all her rigor.  Cler. 
Yet false policy  
Would cover all, being like offenders hid,  
That (after notice taken where they hide)  
The more they crouch and stir, the more are spied.  Aum. 
I wonder how this chanced you.  Cler. 
Some informer,  
Blood hound to mischief, usher to the Hangman,  
Thirsty of honour for some huge state act,  
Perceiving me great with the worthy Guise:  
And he (I know not why) held dangerous,  
Made me the desperate organ of his danger,  
Only with that poor colour: 'tis the common  
And more than whorelike trick of treachery,  
And vermin bred to rapine, and to ruin:  
For which this fault is still to be accused,  
Since good acts fail, crafts and deceits are used.  
If it be other never pity me.  Aum. 
Sir, we are glad, believe it, and have hope  
The King will so conceit it.  Cler. 
At his pleasure.  
In mean time, what's your will Lord Lieutenant?  Mail. 
To leave your own horse, and to mount the trumpets.  Cler. 
It shall be done: this heavily prevents  
My purposed recreation in these parts;  
Which now I think on: let me beg you sir,  
To lend me some one Captain of your Troops,  
To bear the message of my hapless service,  
And misery, to my most noble mistress,  
Countess of Cambray: to whose house this night  
I promised my repair, and know most truly,  
With all the ceremonies of her favour,  
She sure expects me.  Mail. 
Think you now on that?  Cler. 
On that, sir? ay, and that so worthily,  
That if the King, in spite of your great service,  
Would send me instant promise of enlargement,  
Condition I would set this message by,  
I would not take it, but had rather die.  Aum. 
Your message shall be done sir: I myself  
Will be for you a messenger of ill.  Cler. 
I thank you sir, and doubt not yet to live  
To quite your kindness.  Aum. 
Mean space use your spirit  
And knowledge for the cheerful patience  
Of this so strange and sudden consequence.  Cler. 
Good sir, believe that no particular torture  
Can force me from my glad obedience  
To any thing the high and general cause,  
To match with his whole Fabric, hath ordained,  
And know ye all (though far from all your aims,  
Yet worth them all, and all men's endless studies)  
That in this one thing, all the discipline  
Of manners, and of manhood is contained;  
A man to join himself with th'universe,  
In his main sway, and make (in all things fit)  
One with that all, and go on, round as it;  
Not plucking from the whole his wretched part,  
And into straits, or into nought revert,  
Wishing the complete Universe might be  
Subject to such a rag of it as he:  
But to consider great necessity  
All things as well refract, as voluntary  
Reduceth to the prime celestial cause,  
Which he that yields to with a man's applause,  
And cheek, by cheek, goes; crossing it, no breath,  
But like God's Image, follows to the death,  
That man is truly wise, and every thing,  
(Each cause, and every part distinguishing)  
In Nature, with enough Art understands,  
And that full glory merits at all hands,  
That doth the whole world at all parts adorn,  
And appertains to one celestial borne.  Exeunt omnes, Enter Baligny, Renel. Bal. 
So foul a scandal never man sustained,  
Which caused byth' King, is rude and tyrannous:  
Give me a place, and my Lieutenant make  
The filler of it.  Ren. 
I should never look  
For better of him; never trust a man,  
For any justice, that is rapt with pleasure:  
To order arms well, that makes smocks his ensigns,  
And his whole Governments sails: you heard of late,  
He had the four and twenty ways of Venery  
Done all before him.  Bal. 
'twas abhorred and beastly.  Ren. 
'tis more than natures mighty hand can do  
To make one human and a Lecher too.  
Look how a Wolf doth like a Dog appear,  
So, like a friend is an Adulterer,  
Voluptuaries, and these belly-gods;  
No more true men are, then so many Toads.  
A good man happy, is a common good;  
Vile men advanced live of the common blood.  Bal. 
Give and then take like children.  Ren. 
Bounties are  
As soon repented as they happen rare.  Bal. 
What should Kings do, and men of eminent places;  
But as they gather, sow gifts to the graces,  
And where they have given, rather give again,  
(Being given for virtue) then like Babes and fools,  
Take and repent Gifts; why are wealth and power?  Ren. 
Power and wealth move to tyranny, not bounty;  
The Merchant for his wealth is swollen in mind,  
When yet the chief Lord of it is the Wind.  Bal. 
That may so chance to our State-Merchants too:  
Something performed, that hath not far to go.  Ren. 
That's the main point, my Lord; insist on that.  Bal. 
But doth this fire rage further? hath it taken  
The tender tinder of my wife's sere blood?  
Is she so passionate?  Ren. 
So wild, so mad,  
She cannot live, and this unwreaked sustain.  
The woes are bloody that in women reign.  
The Sicil gulf keeps fear in less degree;  
There is no Tiger, not more tame than she.  Bal. 
There is no looking home then?  Ren. 
Home? Medea  
With all her herbs, charms, thunders, lightning,  
Made not her presence, and black haunts more dreadful.  Bal. 
Come, to the King, if he reform not all,  
Mark the event, none stand where that must fall.  Exeunt. Enter Countess, Riova, and an usher Vsh. 
madam, a Captain come from Clermont D'Ambois  
Desires access to you.  Count. 
And not himself?  Vsh. 
No, madam.  Coun. 
That's not well. Attend him in.  Exit Vsh. 
The last hour of his promise now run out  
And he break, some brack in the frame of nature  
That forceth his breach.  Enter Usher and Aumal. Aum. 
Save your Ladyship.  Coun. 
All welcome. Come you from my worthy servant?  Aum. 
ay, madam, and confer such news from him.  Coun. 
Such news? what news?  Aum. 
News that I wish some other had had the charge of.  Coun. 
O what charge? what news?  Aum. 
Your Ladyship must use some patience  
Or else I cannot do him that desire,  
He urged with such affection to your Graces.  Coun. 
Do it; for heavens love do it, if you serve  
His kind desires, I will have patience.  
Is he in health?  Aum. 
He is.  Count. 
Why, that's the ground  
Of all the good estate we hold in earth;  
All our ill built upon that, is no more  
Than we may bear, and should express it all.  Aum. 
madam, 'tis only this; his liberty.  Coun. 
His liberty! Without that health is nothing.  
Why live I, but to ask in doubt of that,  
Is that bereft him?  Aum. 
You'll again prevent me.  Coun. 
No more, I swear, I must hear, and together  
Come all my misery. I'll hold though I burst.  Aum. 
Then madame, thus it fares; he was invited  
By way of honour to him, to take view  
Of all the Powers his brother Baligny  
Hath in his government; which ranged in battles,  
Maillard, Lieutenant to the Governor,  
Having received strict Letters from the King,  
To train him to the musters, and betray him,  
To their surprise, which, with Chalon in chief,  
And other Captains (all the field put hard  
By his incredible valour for his scape)  
They haplessly and guiltlessly performed,  
And to bastille he's now led prisoner.  Coun. 
What change is here? how are my hopes prevented?  
O my most faithful servant; thou betrayed?  
Will Kings make treason lawful? Is Society  
(To keep which only Kings were first ordained)  
Less broke in breaking faith twixt friend and friend,  
Then twixt the King and Subject? let them fear,  
Kings precedents in licence lack no danger.  
Kings are compared to Gods, and should be like them,  
Full in all right, in nought superfluous;  
Nor nothing straining past right, for their right:  
Reign justly, and reign safely. Policy  
Is but a Guard corrupted, and a way  
Ventured in Deserts, without guide or path.  
Kings punish subjects errors with their own.  
Kings are like Archers, and their Subjects, shafts:  
For as when Archers let their arrows fly,  
They call to them, and bid them fly or fall,  
As if 'twere in the free power of the shaft  
To fly or fall, when only 'tis the strength,  
Straight shooting, compass given it by the Archer,  
That makes it hit or miss; and doing either,  
he's to be praised or blamed, and not the shaft:  
So Kings to Subjects crying, do, do not this;  
Must to them by their own examples strength,  
The straightness of their acts, and equal compass,  
Give Subjects power t'obey them in the like;  
Not shoot them forth with faulty aim and strength,  
And lay the fault in them for flying amiss,  Aum. 
But for your servant, I dare swear him guiltless.  Count. 
He would not for his Kingdom traitor be;  
His Laws are not so true to him, as he.  
O knew I how to free him, by way forced  
Through all their army, I would fly, and do it:  
And had I, of my courage and resolve,  
But ten such more, they should not all retain him;  
But I will never die, before I give  
Maillard an hundred slashes with a sword,  
Chalon an hundred breaches with a Pistol.  
They could not all have taken Clermont D'Ambois,  
Without their treachery; he had bought his bands out  
With their slave bloods: but he was credulous;  
He would believe, since he would be believed;  
Your noblest natures are most credulous.  
Who gives no trust, all trust is apt to break;  
Hate like hell mouth, who think not what they speak.  Aum. 
Well, madam, I must tender my attendance  
On him again. Will't please you to return  
No service to him by me?  Count. 
Fetch me straight  
My little Cabinet. [Exit Ancil. ]'tis little tell him,  
And much too little for his matchless love:  
But as in him the worths of many men  
Are close contracted; [Intr. Ancil. ]so in this are jewels  
Worth many Cabinets. Here, with this (good sir)  
Commend my kindest service to my servant,  
Thank him, with all my comforts; and, in them  
With all my life for them: all sent from him  
In his remembrance of me, and true love:  
And look you tell him, tell him how I lie  She kneels down at his feet. 
Prostrate at feet of his accursed misfortune,  
Pouring my tears out, which shall ever fall,  
Till I have poured for him out eyes and all.  Aum. 
O madam, this will kill him: comfort you  
With full assurance of his quick acquittal;  
Be not so passionate: rise, cease your tears.  Coun. 
Then must my life cease. Tears are all the vent  
My life hath to scape death: Tears please me better,  
Than all life's comforts, being the natural seed  
Of hearty sorrow. As a tree fruit bears,  He raises her, and leads her out. Exe. 
So doth an undissembled sorrow, tears.  Vsh. 
This might have been before, and saved much charge.  Exit. Enter Henry, Guise, Baligny, Esp. Soisson. Pericot with pen, ink, and paper. Guise. 
Now sir, I hope you're much abused Eyes see  
In my word for my Clermont, what a villain  
He was that whispered in your jealous ear  
His own black treason in suggesting Clermont's:  
Coloured with nothing but being great with me,  
Sign then this writ for his delivery,  
Your hand was never urged with worthier boldness:  
Come, pray sir, sign it: why should Kings be prayed  
To acts of justice? 'tis a reverence  
Makes them despised, and shows they stick and tire  
In what their free powers should be hot as fire.  Hen. 
Well, take your will sir, I'll have mine ere long.  
But wherein is this Clermont such a rare one?  Guise. 
In his most gentle, and unwearied mind,  
Rightly to virtue framed; in very nature;  
In his most firm inexorable spirit,  
To be removed from any thing he chooseth  
For worthiness; or bear the lest persuasion  
To what is base, or fitteth not his object;  
In his contempt of riches and of greatness;  
In estimation of th'Idolatrous vulgar;  
His scorn of all things servile and ignoble,  
Though they could gain him never such advancement;  
His liberal kind of speaking what is truth,  
In spite of temporising; the great rising,  
and learning of his soul, so much the more  
Against ill fortune, as she set herself  
Sharp against him, or would present most hard,  
To shun the malice of her deadliest charge;  
His detestation of his special friends,  
When he perceived their tyrannous will to do,  
Or their abjection basely to sustain  
Any injustice that they could revenge;  
The flexibility of his most anger,  
Even in the main career and fury of it,  
When any object of desertful pity  
Offers itself to him; his sweet disposure  
As much abhorring to behold, as do  
Any unnatural and bloody action;  
His just contempt of jesters, Parasites,  
Servile observers, and polluted tongues:  
In short, this seneschal man is found in him,  
He may with heavens immortal powers compare,  
To whom the day and fortune equal are,  
Come fair or foul, whatever chance can fall,  
Fixed in himself, he still is one to all.  Hen. 
Shows he to others thus?  Omnes. 
To all that know him.  Hen. 
And apprehend I this man for a traitor?  Guise. 
These are your Machevilian Villains,  
Your bastard Teucer's, that their mischiefs done,  
Run to your shield for shelter: caucuses,  
That cut their too large murderous thieveries,  
To their dens length still: woe be to that state  
Where treachery guards, and ruin makes men great.  Hen. 
Go, take my Letters for him, and release him.  Om. 
Thanks to your Highness, ever live your Highness.  Exeunt. Bal. 
Better a man were buried quick, then live  
A property for state, and spoil, to thrive.  Exit. Enter Clermont, Mail. Chal. with Soldiers. Mail. 
we joy you take a chance so ill, so well.  Cler. 
whoever saw me differ in acceptance  
Of either fortune?  Chal. 
What, love bad, like good?  
How should one learn that?  Cler. 
To love nothing outward,  
Or not within our own powers to command;  
And so being sure of every thing we love,  
Who cares to lose the rest: if any man  
Would neither live nor die in his free choice,  
But as he sees necessity will have it,  
(Which if he would resist, he strives in vain)  
What can come near him, that he doth not well,  
And if in worst events, his will be done;  
How can the best be better? all is one.  Mail. 
methinks 'tis pretty.  Cler. 
Put no difference  
If you have this, or not this; but as children  
Playing at quoits, ever regard their game,  
And care not for their quoits; so let a man  
The things themselves that touch him not esteem,  
But his free power in well disposing them.  Chal. 
Pretty from toys.  Cler. 
methinks this double distich  
Seems prettily too, to stay superfluous longings:  
Not to have want, what riches doth exceed?  
Not to be subject, what superior thing?  
He that to nought aspires, doth nothing need;  
Who breaks no Law is subject to no King.  Mail. 
This goes to mine ear well I promise you.  Chal. 
O, but 'tis passing hard to stay one thus.  Cler. 
'tis so; rank custom raps men so beyond it,  
And as 'tis hard, so well men's doors to bar  
To keep the cat out, and th'adulterer;  
So 'tis as hard to curb affections so,  
we let in nought to make them overflow.  
And as of Homer's verses, many Critics  
On those stand, of which times old moth hath eaten,  
The first or last feet, and the perfect parts,  
of his unmatched Poem sink beneath,  
With upright gasping, and sloth dull as death:  
So the unprofitable things of life,  
And those we cannot compass, we affect;  
All that doth profit, and we have, neglect,  
Like covetous, and basely getting men,  
That gathering much, use never what they keep;  
But for the least they lose, extremely weep,  Mail. 
This pretty talking and our horses walking  
Down this steep hill, spends time with equal profit.  Cler. 
'tis well bestowed on ye, meat and men sick  
Agree like this, and you; and yet even this  
Is th'end of all skill, power, wealth, all that is.  Chal. 
I long to hear sir, how your Mistress takes this.  Enter Aumal with a Cabinet. Mail. 
we soon shall know it: see Aumall returned.  Aum. 
Ease to your bands sir.  Cler. 
Welcome worthy friend.  Chal. 
How took his noblest Mistress your sad message?  Aum. 
As great rich men take sudden poverty,  
I never witnessed a more noble love,  
Nor a more ruthful sorrow: I well wished  
Some other had been master of my message.  Mail. 
You're happy sir, in all things, but this one,  
Of your unhappy apprehension.  Cler. 
This is to me, compared with her much moan,  
As one tear is to her whole passion.  Aum. 
Sir, she commends her kindest service to you,  
And this rich Cabinet.  Chal. 
O happy man.  
This may enough hold to redeem your bands.  Cler. 
These clouds I doubt not, will be soon blown over.  Enter Baligny with his discharge: Renel, and others. Aum. 
Your hope is just and happy, see sir both  
In both the looks of these.  Bal. 
Here's a discharge  
For this your prisoner, my good Lord Lieutenant.  Mail 
Alas, sir, I usurp that style enforced,  
And hope you know it was not my aspiring.  Bal. 
Well sir, my wrong aspired past all men's hopes.  Mail. 
I sorrow for it sir.  Ren. 
You see sir there  
Your prisoners discharge authentical.  Mail. 
It is sir, and I yield it him with gladness.  Bal. 
Brother, I brought you down too much good purpose.  Cler. 
Repeat not that sir: the amends makes all:  Ren. 
I joy in it, my best and worthiest friend,  
O youhave a princely fautor of the Guise.  Bal. 
I think I did my part to.  Ren. 
Well, sir; all  
Is in the issue well: and (worthiest Friend)  
Here's from your friend the Guise; here from the Countess,  
Your Brother's Mistress, the contents whereof  
I know, and must prepare you now to please  
Th'unrested spirit of your slaughtered brother,  
If it be true, as you imagined once,  
His apparition showed it; the complot  
Is now laid sure betwixt us; therefore haste  
Both to your great friend (who hath some use weighty  
For your repair to him) and to the Countess,  
Whose satisfaction is no less important.  Cler. 
I see all, and will haste as it importeth.  
And good friend, since I must delay a little  
My wished attendance on my noblest Mistress,  
Excuse me to her, with return of this,  
And endless protestation of my service;  
And now become as glad a messenger,  
As you were late a woeful.  Aum. 
Happy change,  
I ever will salute thee with my service  Exit. Bal. 
Yet more news Brother; the late jesting Monsieur  
Makes now your Brother's dying prophesy equal  
At all parts, being dead as he presaged.  Ren. 
Heaven shield the Guise from seconding that truth,  
With what he likewise prophesied on him.  Cler. 
It hath enough, 'twas graced with truth in one,  
Toth' other falsehood and confusion.  
Lead toth' Court sir.  Bal. 
You I'll lead no more,  
It was to ominous and foul before.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus quarti.   

Actus quinti  
Scaena prima.  Ascendit umbra Bussi. Vmb. 
UP from the Chaos of eternal night,  
(To which the whole digestion of the world  
Is now returning) once more I ascend,  
And bide the cold damp of this piercing air.  
To urge the justice, whose almighty word  
Measures the bloody acts of impious men,  
With equal penance, who in th'act itself  
Includes th'infliction, which like chained shot  
Batter together still; though (as the thunder  
Seems, by men's duller hearing than their sight,  
To break a great time after lightning forth,  
Yet both at one time tear the labouring cloud,)  
So men think penance of their ills is slow,  
Though th'ill and penance still together go.  
Reform ye ignorant men, your manless lives  
Whose laws ye think are nothing but your lusts;  
When leaving but for supposition's sake,  
The body of felicity (Religion)  
Set in the midst of Christendom, and her head  
Cleft to her bosom; one half one way swaying  
Another th'other: all the Christian world  
And all her laws, whose observation,  
Stands upon faith, above the power of reason:  
Leaving (I say) all these, this might suffice,  
To fray ye from your vicious swinge in ill,  
And set you more on fire to do more good:  
That since the world (as which of you denies)  
Stands by proportion, all may thence conclude,  
That all the joints and nerves sustaining nature,  
As well may break, and yet the world abide,  
As any one good unrewarded die,  
Or any one ill scape his penalty.  The Ghost stands close. Enter Guise, Clermont. Gui. 
Thus (friend) thou seest how all good men would thrive,  
Did not the good thou prompt'st me with prevent,  
The jealous ill pursuing them in others.  
But now thy dangers are dispatched, note mine:  
Hast thou not heard of that admired voice,  
That at the Barricadoes spoke to me,  
(No person seen) Let's lead (my Lord) to Rheims?  Cler. 
Nor could you learn the person?  Guise. 
By no means.  Cler. 
'twas but your fancy then a waking dream:  
For as in sleep, which binds both th' outward senses,  
And the sense common to; th'imagining power  
(Stirred up by forms hid in the memory's store,  
Or by the vapours of overflowing humours  
In bodies full and foul; and mixed with spirits,)  
feigneth many strange, miraculous images,  
In which act, it so painfully applies  
itself to those forms, that the common sense  
It actuates with his motion; and thereby  
Those fictions true seem, and have real act:  
So, in the strength of our conceits, awake,  
The cause alike, doth of like fictions make.  Guise. 
Be what it will, 'twas a presage of something  
Weighty and secret, which th'advertisements  
I have received from all parts, both without,  
And in this Kingdom, as from Rome and Spain  
Soccaine and Savoy, gives me cause to think,  
All writing that our plots Catastrophe,  
For propagation of the Catholic cause,  
Will bloody prove, dissolving all our counsels?  Cler. 
Retire then from them all.  Guise. 
I must not do so.  
The archbishop of lions tells me plain  
I shall be said then to abandon France  
In so important an occasion:  
And that mine enemies (their profit making  
Of my faint absence) soon would let that fall,  
That all my pains did to this height exhale.  Cler. 
Let all fall that would rise unlawfully:  
Make not your forward spirit in virtues right,  
A property for vice, by thrusting on  
Further than all your powers can fetch you off.  
It is enough, your will is infinite  
To all things virtuous and religious,  
Which within limits kept, may without danger,  
Let virtue some good from your Graces gather,  
Avarice of all is ever nothings father.  Vmb. 
Danger (the spur of all great minds) is ever  
The curb to your tame spirits; you respect not  
(With all your holiness of life and learning)  
More than the present, like illiterate vulgars,  
Your mind (you say) kept in your flesh's bounds,  
Shows that man's will must ruled be by his power:  
When (by true doctrine) you are taught to live  
Rather without the body, then within;  
And rather to your God still then yourself:  
To live to him, is to do all things fitting  
His Image, in which, like himself we live;  
To be his Image, is to do those things,  
That make us deathless, which by death is only;  
Doing those deeds that fit eternity,  
And those deeds are the perfecting that justice,  
That makes the world last, which proportion is  
Of punishment and wreak for every wrong,  
As well as for right a reward as strong:  
Away then, use the means thou hast to right  
The wrong I suffered. What corrupted Law  
Leaves unperformed in Kings, do thou supply,  
And be above them all in dignity.  Exit. Guise. 
Why stand'st thou still thus, and appliest thine ears,  
And eyes to nothing?  Cler. 
Saw you nothing here?  Guise. 
Thou dreamest, awake now; what was here to see?  Cler. 
My Brother's spirit, urging his revenge.  Guise. 
Thy Brother's spirit! pray thee mock me not.  Cler. 
No, by my love and service.  Guise. 
Would he rise,  
And not be thundering threats against the Guise?  Cler. 
You make amends for enmity to him,  
With ten parts more love, and desert of me;  
And as you make your hate to him, no let  
Of any love to me; no more bears he  
(Since you to me supply it) hate to you,  
Which reason and which justice is performed  
In Spirits ten parts more than fleshy men.  
To whose foresights our acts and thoughts lie open:  
And therefore since he saw the treachery  
Late practised by my brother Baligny,  
He would not honour his hand with the justice  
(As he esteems it) of his bloods revenge,  
To which my Sister needs would have him sworn,  
Before she would consent to marry him.  Guise. 
O Baligny, who would believe there were  
A man, that (only since his looks are raised  
Upwards, and have but sacred heaven in sight)  
Could bear a mind so more than devilish?  
As for the painted glory of the countenance,  
Flitting in Kings, doth good for nought esteem,  
And the more ill he does, the better seem.  Cler. 
we easily may believe it, since we see  
In this world's practice few men better be.  
justice to live doth nought but justice need,  
But Policy must still on mischief feed.  
Untruth for all his ends, truth's name doth sue in;  
None safely live, but those that study ruin.  
A good man happy, is a common good;  
Ill men advanced live of the common blood.  Guise. 
But this thy brother's spirit startles me,  
These spirits seld or never haunting men,  
But some mishap ensues.  Cler. 
Ensue what can:  
Tyrants may kill, but never hurt a man;  
All to his good makes, spite of death and hell.  Enter Aumall. Aum. 
All the desert of good, renown your Highness.  Guise. 
Welcome Aumall.  Cler. 
My good friend, friendly welcome.  
How took my noblest mistress the changed news?  Aum. 
It came too late sir, for those loveliest eyes  
(Through which a soul looked so divinely loving,  
Tears nothing uttering her distress enough)  
She wept quite out, and like two falling Stars  
Their dearest sights quite vanished with her tears.  Cler. 
All good forbid it.  Guise. 
What events are these?  Cler. 
All must be borne my Lord: and yet this chance  
Would willingly enforce a man to cast off  
All power to bear with comfort, since he sees  
In this, our comforts made our miseries.  Guise. 
How strangely thou art loved of both the sexes;  
Yet thou lov'st neither, but the good of both.  Cler. 
In love of women, my affection first  
Takes fire out of the frail parts of my blood;  
Which till I have enjoyed, is passionate,  
Like other lovers: but fruition past,  
I then love out of judgement; the desert  
Of her I love, still sticking in my heart,  
Though the desire, and the delight be gone,  
Which must chance still, since the comparison  
Made upon trial twixt what reason loves,  
And what affection, makes in me the best  
Ever preferred; what most love, valuing lest.  Guise. 
Thy love being judgement then, and of the mind,  
Marry thy worthiest mistress now being blind.  Cler. 
If there were love in marriage so I would;  
But I deny that any man doth love,  
Affecting wives, maids, widows, any women:  
For neither flies love milk, although they drown  
In greedy search thereof; nor doth the Bee  
love honey, though the labour of her life  
Is spent in gathering it; nor those that fat  
Or beasts, or fowls, do any thing therein  
For any love: for as when only nature  
Moves men to meat, as far as her power rules,  
She doth it with a temperate appetite,  
The too much men devour, abhorring nature;  
And in our most health, is our most disease:  
So, when humanity rules men and women.  
'tis for society confined in reason.  
But what excites the beds desire in blood,  
By no means justly can be construed love;  
For when love kindles any knowing spirit,  
It ends in virtue and effects divine;  
And is in friendship chaste, and masculine.  Guise. 
Thou shalt my Mistress be; methinks my blood  
Is taken up to all love with thy virtues.  
And howsoever other men despise  
These Paradoxes strange, and too precise,  
Since they hold on the right way of our reason,  
I could attend them ever. Come, away;  
Perform thy brothers thus importuned wreak;  
And I will see what great affairs the King  
Hath to employ my counsel, which he seems  
Much to desire, and more and more esteems.  Exit. Enter Henry, Baligny, with six of the guard. Hen. 
Saw you his saucy forcing of my hand  
To D'Ambois freedom?  Bal. 
Saw, and through mine eyes  
Let fire into my heart, that burned to bear  
An insolence so Giantly austere.  Hen. 
The more Kings bear at subjects hands, the more  
Their lingering justice gathers; that resembles  
The weighty, and the goodly-bodied Eagle,  
Who (being on earth) before her shady wings  
Can raise her into air, a mighty way  
Close by the ground she runs; but being aloft,  
All she commands, she flies at; and the more  
Death in her Seres bears, the more time she stays  
Her thundery stoop from that on which she preys.  Bal. 
You must be then more secret in the weight  
Of these your shady counsels, who will else  
Bear (where such sparks fly as the Guise and D'Ambois)  
Powder about them. Counsels (as your entrails)  
Should be unpierced and sound kept; for not those,  
Whom you discover, you neglect; but open  
A ruinous passage to your own best hope.  Hen. 
we have Spies set on us, as we on others;  
And therefore they that serve us must excuse us,  
If what we most hold in our hearts, take wind,  
Deceit hath eyes that see into the mind.  
But this plot shall be quicker than their twinkling,  
On whose lids Fate, with her dead weight shall lie,  
And Confidence that lightens ere she die.  
Friends of my Guard, as ye gave oath to be  
True to your Sovereign, keep it manfully:  
Your eyes have witnessed oft th'Ambition  
That never made access to me in Guise  
But Treason ever sparkled in his eyes:  
Which if you free us of, our safety shall  
You not our Subjects, but our Patrons call.  Omnes. 
Our duties bind us, he is now but dead.  Hen. 
we trust in it, and thank ye. Baligny,  
Go lodge their ambush, and thou God that art  
Fautor of Princes, thunder from the skies,  
Beneath his hill of pride this Giant Guise.  Exeunt. Enter Tamyra with a Letter, Charlotte in man's attire. Tam. 
I see you're Servant, sir, to my dear sister,  
The Lady of her loved Baligny.  Char. 
madam I am bound to her virtuous bounties,  
For that life which I offer in her virtuous service,  
To the revenge of her renowned brother.  Tam. 
She writes to me as much, and much desires,  
That you may be the man, whose spirit she knows  
Will cut short off these long and dull delays,  
Hitherto to bribing the eternal justice:  
Which I believe, since her unmatched spirit  
Can judge of spirits, that have her sulphur in them;  
But I must tell you, that I make no doubt,  
Her living brother will revenge her dead,  
On whom the dead imposed the task, and he,  
I know, will come t'effect it instantly.  Char. 
They are but words in him; believe them not.  Tam. 
See; this is the vault, where he must enter:  
Where now I think he is.  Enter Renel at the vault, with the Countess being blind. Ren. 
God save you Lady.  
What Gentleman is this, with whom you trust  
The deadly weighty secret of this hour?  Tam. 
One that yourself will say, I well may trust.  Ren. 
Then come up madam.  He helps the Countess up. 
See here honoured Lady,  
A Countess that in loves mishap doth equal  
At all parts, your wronged self; and is the mistress  
Of your slain servants brother; in whose love  
For his late treacherous apprehension,  
She wept her fair eyes from her ivory brows,  
And would have wept her soul out, had not I  
Promised to bring her to this mortal quarry,  
That by her lost eyes for her servants love,  
She might conjure him from this stern attempt,  
In which, (by a most ominous dream she had)  
She knows his death fixed, and that never more  
Out of this place the Sun shall see him live.  Char. 
I am provided then to take his place,  
And undertaking on me.  Ren. 
You sir, why?  Char. 
Since I am charged so by my mistress,  
His mournful sister.  Tam. 
See her Letter sir.  He reads. 
Good madam, I rue your fate, more than mine,  
And know not how to order these affairs,  
They stand on such occurrents.  Ren. 
This indeed,  
I know to be your Lady mistress hand,  
And know beside, his brother will, and must  
Endure no hand in this revenge but his.  Enter Vmbr. Bussy. Vmb. 
Away, dispute no more; get up, and see,  
Clermont must author this just Tragedy.  Coun. 
Who's that?  Ren. 
The spirit of Bussy.  Tam. 
O my servant! let us embrace.  Vmb. 
Forbear. The air, in which  
My figure's likeness is impressed, will blast,  
Let my revenge for all loves satisfy,  
In which (dame) fear not, Clermont shall not die:  
No word dispute more, up, and see th'event.  Exeunt Ladies. 
Make the Guard sure Renel; and then the doors  
Command to make fast, when the Earl is in.  Exit Ren. 
The black soft-footed hour is now on wing,  
Which for my just wreak, Ghosts shall celebrate,  
With dances dire, and of infernal state.  Exit. Enter Guise. Guise. 
Who says that death is natural, when nature  
Is with the only thought of it, dismayed?  
I have had Lotteries set up for my death,  
And I have drawn beneath my trencher one,  
Knit in my handkerchief another lot,  
The word being; You're a dead man if you enter,  
And these words, this imperfect blood and flesh,  
Shrink at in spite of me; their solidest part  
Melting like snow within me, with cold fire:  
I hate myself, that seeking to rule Kings,  
I cannot curb my slave. Would any spirit  
Free, manly, Princely, wish to live to be  
Commanded by this mass of slavery,  
Since Reason, judgement, Resolution,  
And scorn of what we fear, will yield to fear?  
While this same sink of sensuality swells,  
Who would live sinking in it? and not spring  
Up to the Stars, and leave this carrion here,  
For Wolves, and Vultures, and for Dogs to tear?  
O Clermont D'Ambois, wert thou here to chide  
This softness from my flesh, far as my reason,  
Far as my resolution, not to stir  
One foot out of the way, for death and hell.  
Let my false man by falsehood perish here,  
There's no way else to set my true man clear.  Enter Messenger. Mess. 
The King desires your Grace to come to Council.  Guise. 
I come. It cannot be: he will not dare  
To touch me with a treachery so profane.  
Would Clermont now were here, to try how he  
Would lay about him, if this plot should be:  
Here would be tossing souls into the sky.  
whoever knew blood saved by treachery?  
Well, I must on, and will; what should I fear?  
Not against two, Alcides? against two  
And Hercules to friend, the Guise will go.  He takes up the Arras, and the Guard enters upon him: he draws. Guise. 
Hold murderers.  They strike him down. 
So then, this is confidence  
In greatness, not in goodness: where is the king?  The king comes in sight with Es. Sois. & others. 
Let him appear to justify his deed.  
In spite of my betrayed wounds; ere my soul  
Take her flight through them, and my tongue hath strength  
To urge his tyranny.  Hen. 
See sir, I am come  
To justify it before men, and God,  
Who knows with what wounds in my heart for woe  
Of your so wounded faith, I made these wounds,  
Forced to it by an insolence of force  
To stir a stone, nor is a rock opposed  
To all the billows of the churlish sea,  
More beat, and eaten with them, then was I  
With your ambitious mad Idolatry;  
And this blood I shed, is to save the blood  
Of many thousands.  Guise. 
That's your white pretext,  
But you will find one drop of blood shed lawless,  
Will be the fountain to a purple sea:  
The present lust, and shift made for Kings lives  
Against the pure form, and just power of Law,  
Will thrive like shifters purchases; there hangs  
A black Star in the skies, to which the Sun  
Gives yet no light, will rain a poisoned shower  
Into your entrails, that will make you feel  
How little safety lies in treacherous steel.  Hen. 
Well sir, I'll bear it; youhave a Brother to,  
Bursts with like threats, the scarlet Cardinal:  
Seek, and lay hands on him; and take this hence,  
Their bloods, for all you, on my conscience.  Exit. Guise. 
So sir, your full swinge take; mine, death hath curbed.  
Clermont, farewell: O didst thou see but this:  
But it is better, see by this the Ice  
Broke to thine own blood, which thou wilt despise,  
When thou hear'st mine shed. Is there no friend here  
Will bear my love to him?  Aum. 
I will, my Lord.  Guise. 
Thanks with my last breath: recommend me then  
To the most worthy of the race of men.  dies. Exeunt. Enter Monts. and Tamyra. Mont. 
Who have you let into my house?  Tam. 
ay, none.  Mont. 
'tis false, I savour the rank blood of foes  
In every corner.  Tam. 
That you may do well,  
It is the blood you lately shed, you smell.  Mont. 
'Sdeath the vault opes.  The gulf opens. Tam. 
What vault? hold your sword.  Clermont ascends. Cler. 
No, let him use it.  Mont. 
Treason, murder, murder.  Cler. 
Exclaim not; 'tis in vain, and base in you,  
Being one, to only one.  Mont. 
O bloody strumpet!  Cler. 
With what blood charge you her? it may be mine  
As well as yours; there shall not any else  
Enter or touch you: I confer no guards,  
Nor imitate the murderous course you took;  
But single here, will have my former challenge,  
Now answered single, not a minute more  
My brother's blood shall stay for his revenge,  
If I can act it; if not, mine shall add  
A double conquest to you, that alone  
Put it to fortune now, and use no odds.  
Storm not, nor beat yourself thus 'gainst the doors,  
Like to a savage vermin in a trap:  
All doors are sure made, and you cannot scape,  
But by your valour,  Mont. 
No, no, come and kill me.  Cler. 
If you will die so like a beast, you shall,  
But when the spirit of a man may save you,  
Do not so shame man, and a Noble man.  Mont. 
I do not show this baseness, that I fear thee,  
But to prevent and shame thy victory,  
Which of one base is base, and so I'll die.  Cler. 
Here then.  Mon. 
Stay, hold, one thought hath hardened me,  He starts up. 
And since I must afford thee victory,  
It shall be great and brave, if one request  
Thou wilt admit me.  Cler. 
What's that?  Mont. 
Give me leave  
To fetch and use the sword thy Brother gave me  
When he was bravely giving up his life.  Cler. 
No, I'll not fight against my brother's sword,  
Not that I fear it, but since 'tis a trick,  
For you to show your back.  Mont. 
By all truth, no:  
Take but my honourable oath, I will not.  Cler. 
Your honourable oath, plain truth no place has  
Where oaths are honourable.  Tam. 
Trust not his oath.  
He will lie like a Lapwing, when she flies  
Far from her sought nest, still here 'tis she cries.  Mont. 
Out on thee dam of Devils, I will quite  
Disgrace thy braves conquest, die, not fight.  Lies down. Tam. 
Out on my fortune to wed such an abject.  
Now is the people's voice, the voice of God;  
He that to wound a woman vaunts so much,  
(As he did me) a man dares never touch.  Cler. 
Revenge your wounds now madame, I resign him  
Up to your full will, since he will not fight.  
First you shall torture him (as he did you,  
And justice wils) and then pay I my vow.  
Here, take this poniard.  Mont. 
Sink Earth, open Heaven,  
And let fall vengeance.  Tam. 
Come sir, good sir hold him.  Mont. 
O shame of women, whither art thou fled!  Cler. 
Why (good my Lord) is it a greater shame  
For her than you? come, I will be the bands  
You used to her, profaning her fair hands.  Mont. 
No sir, I'll fight now, and the terror be  
Of all you Champions to such as she.  
I did but thus far dally: now observe,  
O all you aching foreheads that have robbed,  
Your hands of weapons, and your hearts of valour,  
join in me all your rages, and rebutters,  
And into dust ram this same race of Furies,  
In this one relic of the Ambois gall,  
In his one purple soul shed, drown it all.  Fight. Mont. 
Now give me breathe a while.  Cler. 
Receive it freely.  Mont. 
What think y'a this now?  Cler. 
It is very noble.  
Had it been free (at least) and of yourself,  
And thus we see (where valour most doth vaunt)  
What 'tis to make a coward valiant.  Mont. 
Now I shall grace your conquest.  Cler. 
That you shall.  Mont. 
If you obtain it.  Cler. 
True sir, 'tis in fortune.  Mont. 
If you were not a D'Ambois, I would scarce  
Change lives with you, I feel so great a change  
In my tall spirits breathed, I think, with the breath  
A D'Ambois breathes here, and necessity  
(With whose point now pricked on, and so, whose help  
My hands may challenge, that doth all men conquer,  
If she except not you, of all men only)  
May change the case here.  Cler. 
True as you are changed,  
Her power in me urged, makes y'another man,  
Then yet you ever were.  Mont. 
Well, I must on.  Cler. 
Your Lordship must by all means.  Mont. 
Then at all.  Fights, and D'Ambois hurts him. Charlotte above. Char. 
Death of my father: what a shame is this,  
Stick in his hands thus?  Ren. 
Gentle sir forbear.  Coun. 
Is he not slain yet?  She gets down. Ren. 
No madam, but hurt in divers parts of him.  Mont. 
Youhave given it me,  
And yet I feel life for another vennie,  Enter Charlotte. Cler. 
What would you sir?  Char. 
I would perform this Combat.  Cler. 
Against which of us?  Char. 
I care not much if 'twere  
Against thyself: thy sister would have shamed,  
To have thy Brother's wreak with any man  
(In single combat) stick so in her fingers.  Cler. 
My Sister? know you her?  Tam. 
ay sir, she sent him,  
With this kind Letter, to perform the wreak  
Of my dear Servant.  Cler. 
Now alas good sir,  
Think you you could do more?  Char. 
Alas? I do,  
And were't not, ay, fresh, sound, should charge a man  
Weary, and wounded, I would long ere this,  
Have proved what I presume on.  Cler. 
Youhave a mind  
Like to my Sister, but have patience now,  
If next charge speed not, I'll resign to you.  Mont. 
Pray thee let him decide it.  Cler. 
No, my Lord,  
I am the man in fate, and since so bravely  
Your Lordship stands me, scape but one more charge,  
And on my life, I'll set your life at large.  Mont. 
Said like a D'Ambois, and if now I die,  
Sit joy and all good on thy victory.  Fights, and falls down. Mon. 
Farewell, I heartily forgive thee. Wife,  
And thee, let penitence spend thy rest of life.  He gives his hand to Cler. and his Wife. Cler. 
Noble and Christian.  Tam. 
O it breaks my heart.  Cler. 
And should, for all faults found in him before,  
These words, this end, makes full amends and more.  
Rest worthy soul, and with it the dear spirit  
Of my loved Brother, rest in endless peace:  
Soft lie thy bones Heaven be your soul's abode,  
And to your ashes be the earth no load.  Music, and the Ghost of Bussy enters, leading the Ghost of the Guise; Monsieur, Cardinal Guise, and Shattilion, they dance about the dead body, and Exeunt. Cler. 
How strange is this? the Guise amongst these spirits,  
And his great Brother Cardinal, both yet living,  
And that the rest with them, with joy thus celebrate  
This our revenge? This certainly presages  
Some instant death both to the Guise and Cardinal.  
That the chatillion's Ghost to should thus join  
In celebration of this just revenge,  
With Guise, that bore a chief stroke in his death,  
It seems that now he doth approve the act,  
And these true shadows of the Guise and Cardinal,  
foreruning thus their bodies, may approve  
That all things to be done, as here we live,  
Are done before all times in th'other life.  
That Spirits should rise in these times yet are fables;  
Though learnedst men hold that our sensive spirits  
A little time abide about the graves  
Of their deceased bodies; and can take  
In cold condensed air, the same forms they had,  
When they were shut up in this Body's shade.  Enter Aumall. Aum. 
O Sir, the Guise is slain.  Cler. 
Avert it Heaven.  Aum. 
Sent for to Council, by the King, an ambush  
(Lodged for the purpose) rushed on him, and took  
His Princely life; who sent (in dying then)  
His love to you, as to the best of men.  Cler. 
The worst, and most accursed of things creeping  
On earth's sad bosom. Let me pray ye all  
A little to forbear, and let me use  
Freely mine own mind in lamenting him.  
I'll call ye straight again.  Aum. 
We will forbear, and leave you free sir.  Exeunt. Cler. 
Shall I live, and he  
Dead, that alone gave means of life to me?  
There's no disputing with the acts of Kings,  
Revenge is impious on their sacred persons:  
And could I play the worldling (no man loving  
Longer than gain is reaped, or grace from him)  
I should survive, and shall be wondered at,  
(Though in mine own hands being) I end with him:  
But Friendship is the cement of two minds,  
As of one man the soul and body is,  
Of which one cannot sever, but the other  
Suffers a needful separation.  Descend Ren. & Coun. Ren. 
I fear your servant, madam: let's descend.  Cler. 
Since I could skill of man, I never lived  
To please men worldly, and shall I in death,  
Respect their pleasures, making such a jar  
Betwixt my death and life, when death should make  
The consort sweetest; th'end being proof and crown  
To all the skill and worth we truly own?  
Guise, O my Lord, how shall I cast from me  
The bands and coverts hindering me from thee?  
The garment or the cover of the mind,  
The human soul is; of the soul, the spirit  
The proper rob is; of the spirit, the blood;  
And of the blood, the body is the shroud.  
With that must I begin then to unclothe,  
And come at th'other. Now then as a ship,  
Touching at strange, and far removed shores;  
Her men ashore go, for their several ends,  
Fresh water, victuals, precious stones, and pearl,  
All yet intentive when (the master calls,  
The Ship to put off ready) to leave all  
Their greediest labours, lest they there be left,  
To thieves, or beasts, or be the country's slaves:  
So, now my master calls, my ship, my venture  
All in one bottom put, all quite put off,  
Gone under sail, and I left negligent,  
To all the horrors of the vicious time,  
The far removed shores to all virtuous aims;  
None favouring goodness; none but he respecting  
Piety or manhood. Shall I here survive,  
Not cast me after him into the sea,  
Rather than here live, ready every hour  
To feed thieves, beasts, and be the slave of power?  
I come my Lord, Clermont thy creature comes.  He Kills himself. Enter Aumal, Tamyra, Charlotte. Aum. 
What? lie and languish, Clermont? Cursed man  
To leave him here thus: he hath slain himself.  Tam. 
Misery on misery! O me wretched Dame  
Of all that breath, all heaven turn all his eyes,  
In hearty envy, thus on one poor dame.  Char. 
Well done my Brother: I did love thee ever,  
But now adore thee: loss of such a friend  
None should survive, of such a Brother;  
With my false husband live, and both these slain:  
Ere I return to him, I'll turn to earth.  Enter Renel leading the Countess. Ren. 
Horror of human eyes, O Clermont D'Ambois!  
madam, we stayed too long, your servant's slain.  Coun. 
It must be so, he lived but in the Guise,  
As I in him. O follow life mine eyes.  Tam. 
Hide, hide thy snaky head, to Cloisters fly,  
In penance pine, too easy 'tis to die.  Cler. 
It is. In Cloisters than let's all survive.  
madam, since wrath nor grief can help these fortunes,  
Let us forsake the world, in which they reign,  
And for their wished amends to God complain.  Count. 
'tis fit and only needful: lead me on,  
In heavens course comfort seek, in earth is none.  Exeunt. Enter Henry, Espernone, Soissone, and others. Hen. 
we came indeed too late, which much I rue,  
And would have kept this Clermont as my crown.  
Take in the dead, and make this fatal room  
(The house shut up) the famous D'Ambois Tomb.  Exeunt. 
FINIS.