THE TEXT

107,113.a glasse of ink:a mirror made of ink, i. e. the paper with the proofs of Tamyra's unfaithfulness.

107,116.fames sepulchres:the foulness beneath which her good name is buried.

107,120-21.were . . . rarely:were it never so uncommon, bear it with as unexampled courage.

109,156.In her forc'd bloud.Dilke is followed in the substitution ofherforhis. The allusion is evidently to the letter that Tamyra afterwards writes to D'Ambois in her own blood. Cf.v, 1, 176-77.

110,169-70.Lest . . . abuse:lest a furious outburst due to your foreknowledge of the plot against us.

111,185.And . . . policy:and the Monsieur's stratagems shall be taken in the flank by my own.

111,186.Center.Here and inl. 192this word, though strictly meaning the central point of the earth, seems used for the earth itself, as the centre of the universe. For this use cf. Shaks.Tro. and Cress.i, 3, 85-86.

"The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centerObserve degree, priority, and place."

111,191.calme . . . ruine:unsuspecting tranquillity previous to a convulsion of the elements.

113,17-18.The stony . . . sleeper.The thunderstone, or thunderbolt, was supposed to have no power of harming any one who was asleep, or who wore laurel leaves. Leigh, in hisObservations on the First Twelve Cæsars(1647), p. 43, says of Tiberius that "he feared thunder exceedingly, and when the aire or weather was any thing troubled, he even carried a chaplet or wreath of laurell about his neck, because that as (Pliny reporteth) is never blasted with lightning."

114,50.determinate:apparently used in the sense offinal, though the sense is rare, except as qualifying a word which implies previous deliberation.

115,55-56.preventing . . . death:anticipating the last blast that is to kill those who live, and to give life anew to the dead.

115,64.Fame growes in going.Borrowed from theÆneid,iv, 173-75,Fama . . . viresque acquirit eundo.

115,67-68.come . . . lust.Thesyrenis Tamyra; her song the letter she is to write to her lover (cf.l. 75); Montsurry; band of murderers the fatalrocks; and theruffin gally, D'Ambois.

115,69-71.the nets . . . danc'd.There is a play here uponnetsin the sense of wiles, and in its usual signification. To "dance," or "march," or "hide" in a net was to delude oneself that one was acting secretly (cf.Henry V,i, 4, 173, andSpan. Trag.iv, 4, 118).

116,84.for all:in spite of all.

116,86.theirshould be, in grammatical sequence, "her," referring to "a womans" in 83.

116,91.nor in humane consort:nor do they find human fellowship. The metaphor of thewildernesseis still being carried on.

118,128-30.Where . . . cruelty:in the same quarter [i. e. your person] where all these bonds have been violated, they are preserved by the infliction of just punishment, with some exhibition of the same quintessence of cruelty that you have shown me.

118,142.Thus I expresse thee yet:thus I give a further stroke to my delineation of thee.

118,143.thy . . . yet:the image of thy unnatural depravity is not yet fully completed.

118,145.This other engine:the rack, on which Montsurry's servants place Tamyra. Cf.l. 157, "O let me downe, my lord."

119,151-52.O who . . . None but my lord and husband.Tamyra thinks that some evil spirit has taken her husband's shape, and cries to Montsurry to appear and deliver her.

119,161.Now . . . stands still.This statement of the leading principle of the Copernican system, as a mere rhetorical paradox, is remarkable.

119-120,163-72.The too huge . . . with hypocrisie.In this curious passage the earth is conceived of as a recumbent figure, which usually lies face upwards to the sky. But the weight of her sins has caused her to roll over, so that her backpart nowbravesheaven, while her face is turned to the Antipodes; and all the deceitful appearances which she has adopted through her cheating arts have come out in their true nature on her back, so that her hypocrisy stands revealed.

120,178.he:the Friar.

120,181.his.We should expect a repetition ofherin l. 180.His, however seems to be equivalent toman's, anticipatingmanin l. 182. Possibly we should readthis.

121,191.In, Ile after.These words are addressed to the body of the Friar.

122,20.with terror:inspiring terror in their enemies.

123,28.And . . . man:And consider it, though left headless, as a completely formed man.

123,36.vertuous treasurie:stock of virtues.

124,46-53.Not so . . . mens hate.An adaptation of Seneca'sAgamemnon, 64-72:

Non sic Libycis Syrtibus æquorFurit alternos volvere fluctus,Non Euxini turget ab imisCommota vadis unda, nivaliVicina polo;Ubi, cæruleis immunis aquis,Lucida versat plaustra Bootes,Ut praecipites regum casusFortuna rotat.

These lines, with those immediately before and after, are more loosely adapted in Kyd'sSpanish Tragedie,iii, 1, 1-11.

126,23.this embodied shadow:this spirit while it had bodily form.

126,24-27.With reminiscion . . . of art.Cf.iv, 2, 158-61.

127,41-53.Terror of darknesse . . . greater light.After Bussy's statement inll. 29-32we should expect him to immediately summonthe Prince of darknesse, Behemoth. But ll. 41-46 are apparently addressed to the sun-god, who is invoked to put to flight night and mystery. Then as an alternative, in ll. 47-53, Behemoth, to whom darkness is as light, is bidden appear. Dilke substitutesohforor(the reading of all Qq) at the beginning of l. 47. If this change be right, the invocation commencesat this line, and ll. 41-46 are merely a preliminary rhetorical appeal for more illumination. But in this case there is an incongruity between such an appeal and the summoning of thePrince of shades, who sees best where darkness is thickest. Lamb in hisSpecimensretains the reading of the Qq, and says of the passage: "This calling upon Light and Darkness for information, but, above all, the description of the spirit—'threw his changed countenance headlong into clouds'—is tremendous, to the curdling of the blood. I know nothing in poetry like it."

130,103.all the signes:i. e. of the Zodiac.

131.Intrat Umbra Frier . . . Tamyra.The Ghost of the Friar enters anddiscovers, i. e.reveals to view, Tamyra, who since the close ofv, 1, has remained wrappedin the arras, or, as the variant stage direction in A here puts it,wrapt in a canapie.

131,9.before he be revenged:before vengeance is taken on him. The reading of A,engaged, is perhaps (as Dilke suggests) preferable.

133,27-28.what . . . D'Amboys:what bugbear, such as this, is not afraid to visit D'Amboys, even in his sleep?

134,45.Will . . . here?D'Ambois's sword fails to pierce theprivy coatworn by the murderer. Cf.v, 2, 57.

134,52.That . . . resembled:That was a successful artifice, and a skilful impersonation.

135,65.enforce the spot:emphasize the stain on your honour.

136,82.Then . . . fact:then these teachers of divinity deal with figments, not with realities.

136,83-84.Man . . . servant:Man consists of two attached friends, the body and the mind, of which the latter is swayed by the former, as a lover by his mistress.

136,90-93.And if Vespasian . . . groomes.Cf. Suetonius,Life of Vespasian, Ch. 24.Hic, quum super urgentem valetudinem creberrimo frigidæ aquæ usu etiam intestina vitiasset, nec eo minus muneribus imperatoriis ex consuetudine fungeretur, ut etiam legationes audiret cubans, alvo repente usque ad defectionem soluta, Imperatorem, ait, stantem mori oportere. Dumque consurgit, ac nititur, inter manus sublevantium exstinctus est.

137,100-108.And haste . . . dwellers.An adaptation of Seneca,Her. Oet.1518-1526:

O decus mundi, radiate Titan,Cujus ad primos Hecate vaporesLassa nocturnæ levat ora bigæ,Dic sub Aurora positis Sabæis,Dic sub Occasu positis Iberis,Quique ferventi quatiuntur axe,Quique sub plaustro patiuntur Ursæ;Dic ad æternos, properare ManesHerculem.

137,110-111.may . . . funerall:may celebrate fittingly my unworthy end with such a funeral volley as it deserves.

138,135-40.My sunne . . . bloud.In these lines thekilling spectacle, theprodigie, ofl. 134, and its effect are described. Tamyra, the light of D'Ambois's life, with her reddened bosom and hands, is likened to a sun whose beams have turned to blood. So far the imagery is clear, but it is difficult to extract a satisfactory sense from what follows. What doPindus and Ossasymbolize, and what exactly does theirmeltingmean? This seems one of the few passages in the play which really deserve Dryden's stricture for "looseness of expression and gross hyperboles."

139,146.struck.The Qq, and all editors, readstuck, but the word seems inapplicable to a thunderbolt. The editor has conjecturedstruck, which, with a minimum of change, gives the sense required.

139,149Joine flames with Hercules.Here the quartos of 1607 and 1608 contain the right reading. D'Ambois, who has met death in the spirit of Hercules (cf.ll. 100-108), is now to share his translation to the skies. For the description of Hercules as a star see Seneca,Her. Oet.1564-1581.

142,211-14as . . . dies.The reference is to the wax in the taper, which retains in itssavourthe mark of its origin in the hive, till transient as life, it glances with the eye of a flame, and, so doing, expires.

The Revenge of Bussy D'Amboiswas printed in quarto in 1613 by T. S. for John Helme. No reprint appeared till 1873, when it was included in the edition of Chapman's Tragedies and Comedies published by J. Pearson. The text of the quarto was reproduced, with the original spelling and punctuation, but with a few errors. There have been two later editions in modernized spelling, and with slight emendations, by R. H. Shepherd in 1874, and W. L. Phelps in 1895.

In the present edition the text of the quarto has been reproduced, with some additional emendations, and the original spelling has been retained. As regards punctuation, the use of capital letters and italics, and the division of the Acts into Scenes, the same methods have been followed as in the case ofBussy D'Ambois.

The story of a plot by Bussy D'Ambois's kinsfolk to avenge his murder is, in the main, of Chapman's own invention. But he had evidently read an account similar to that given later by De Thou of the design entertained for a time by Bussy's sister Renée (whom Chapman calls Charlotte) and her husband, Baligny, to take vengeance on Montsurry. Clermont D'Ambois is himself a fictitious character, but the episodes in which he appears in ActsII-IVare drawn from the account of the treacherous proceedings against the Count d'Auvergne in Edward Grimeston's translation of Jean de Serres'sInventaire Général de l'Histoire de France. This narrative, however, is not by De Serres, but by Pierre Matthieu, whoseHistoire de Francewas one of the sources used by Grimeston for events later than 1598.

The portraiture of Clermont throughout the play as the high-souled philosopher is inspired by Epictetus's delineation in hisDiscoursesof the ideal Stoic. But in his reluctance to carry out his duty of revenge he is evidently modelled upon Hamlet. In Actv, Scene i, the influence of Shakespeare's tragedy is specially manifest.

The Scenes in Actvrelating to the assassination of Guise are based upon Grimeston's translation of De Serres'sInventaire Général.

The passages in Grimeston's volume which recount the Duke's murder, and those which tell the story of the Count d'Auvergne, are reprinted as an Appendix.

The frontispiece to this volume, the Château of La Coutancière, at which Bussy D'Ambois was killed, is reproduced from an illustration in A. Joubert'sLouis de Clermont.

TO THE RIGHTVERTUOUS, ANDtruely Noble Knight, Sr.Thomas Howard, &c.

Sir,

Since workes of this kinde have beene lately esteemedworthy the patronage of some of our worthiestNobles, I have made no doubt to preferre this of mineto your undoubted vertue and exceeding true noblesse,as contayning matter no lesse deserving your reading,5and excitation to heroycall life, then any such late dedication.Nor have the greatest Princes of Italie and othercountries conceived it any least diminution to their greatnesseto have their names wing'd with these tragickeplumes, and disperst by way of patronage through the10most noble notices of Europe.Howsoever, therefore, in the scænicall presentation itmight meete with some maligners, yet, considering eventherein it past with approbation of more worthy judgements,the ballance of their side (especially being held15by your impartiall hand) I hope will to no graine abidethe out-weighing. And for the autenticall truth of eytherperson or action, who (worth the respecting) will expectit in a poeme, whose subject is not truth, but things liketruth? Poore envious soules they are that cavill at truths20want in these naturall fictions: materiall instruction, elegantand sententious excitation to vertue, and deflectionfrom her contrary, being the soule, lims, and limits of anautenticall tragedie. But whatsoever merit of your fullcountenance and favour suffers defect in this, I shall soone25supply with some other of more generall account; whereinyour right vertuous name made famous and preserved toposteritie, your future comfort and honour in your presentacceptation and love of all vertuous and divine expressionmay be so much past others of your rancke encreast, as30they are short of your judiciall ingenuitie, in their dueestimation.For howsoever those ignoble and sowre-brow'dworldlings are carelesse of whatsoever future or presentopinion spreads of them; yet (with the most divine35philosopher, if Scripture did not confirme it) I make itmatter of my faith, that we truely retaine an intellectuallfeeling of good or bad after this life, proportionablyanswerable to the love or neglect we beare here to allvertue and truely-humane instruction: in whose favour40and honour I wish you most eminent, and rest ever,

Your true vertuesmost true observer,Geo. Chapman.

[Scene:Paris, and in or near Cambrai.]

[A Room at the Court in Paris.]

Enter Baligny, Renel.

Baligny.To what will this declining kingdome turne,Swindging in every license, as in thisStupide permission of brave D'Ambois Murther?Murther made paralell with Law! Murther us'dTo serve the kingdome, given by sute to men5For their advancement! suffered scarcrow-likeTo fright adulterie! what will policieAt length bring under his capacitie?Renel.All things; for as, when the high births of Kings,Deliverances, and coronations,10We celebrate with all the cities belsJangling together in untun'd confusion,All order'd clockes are tyed up; so, when glory,Flatterie, and smooth applauses of things ill,Uphold th'inordinate swindge of downe-right power,15Justice, and truth that tell the bounded use,Vertuous and well distinguisht formes of time,Are gag'd and tongue-tide. But wee have observ'dRule in more regular motion: things most lawfullWere once most royall; Kings sought common good,20Mens manly liberties, though ne'er so meane,And had their owne swindge so more free, and more.But when pride enter'd them, and rule by power,All browes that smil'd beneath them, frown'd; hearts griev'dBy imitation; vertue quite was vanisht,25And all men studi'd selfe-love, fraud, and vice.Then no man could be good but he was punisht.Tyrants, being still more fearefull of the goodThen of the bad, their subjects vertues everManag'd with curbs and dangers, and esteem'd30As shadowes and detractions to their owne.Bal.Now all is peace, no danger, now what followes?Idlenesse rusts us, since no vertuous labourEnds ought rewarded; ease, securitie,Now all the palme weares. Wee made warre before35So to prevent warre; men with giving gifts,More then receiving, made our countrey strong;Our matchlesse race of souldiers then would spendIn publike warres, not private brawles, their spirits;In daring enemies, arm'd with meanest armes,40Not courting strumpets, and consuming birth-rightsIn apishnesse and envy of attire.No labour then was harsh, no way so deepe,No rocke so steepe, but if a bird could scale it,Up would our youth flie to. A foe in armes45Stirr'd up a much more lust of his encounterThen of a mistresse never so be-painted.Ambition then was onely scaling walles,And over-topping turrets; fame was wealth;Best parts, best deedes, were best nobilitie;50Honour with worth, and wealth well got or none.Countries we wonne with as few men as countries:Vertue subdu'd all.Ren.Just: and then our noblesLov'd vertue so, they prais'd and us'd it to;Had rather doe then say; their owne deedes hearing55By others glorified, then be so barraineThat their parts onely stood in praising others.Bal.Who could not doe, yet prais'd, and envi'd not;Civile behaviour flourisht; bountie flow'd;Avarice to upland boores, slaves, hang-men banisht.60Ren.Tis now quite otherwise. But to note the causeOf all these foule digressions and revoltsFrom our first natures, this tis in a word:Since good arts faile, crafts and deceits are us'd:Men ignorant are idle; idle men65Most practise what they most may doe with ease,Fashion and favour; all their studies aymingAt getting money, which no wise man everFed his desires with.Bal.Yet now none are wiseThat thinke not heavens true foolish, weigh'd with that.70Well, thou most worthy to be greatest Guise,Make with thy greatnesse a new world arise.Such deprest nobles (followers of his)As you, my selfe, my lord, will finde a timeWhen to revenge your wrongs.Ren.I make no doubt:75In meane time, I could wish the wrong were rightedOf your slaine 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 suite would consent to satisfie80My love of her with marriage, till I vow'dTo use my utmost to revenge my brother:But Clermont D'Ambois (Bussy's second brother)Had, since, his apparition, and excitementTo suffer none but his hand in his wreake;85Which hee hath vow'd, and so will needes acquiteMe of my vow made to my wife, his sister,And undertake himselfe Bussy's revenge.Yet loathing any way to give it act,But in the noblest and most manly course,90If th'Earle dares take it, he resolves to sendA challenge to him, and my selfe must beare it;To which deliverie I can use no meanes,He is so barricado'd in his house,And arm'd with guard still.Ren.That meanes lay on mee,95Which I can strangely make. My last lands sale,By his great suite, stands now on price with him,And hee (as you know) passing covetous,With that blinde greedinesse that followes gaine,Will cast no danger where her sweete feete tread.100Besides, you know, his lady, by his suite(Wooing as freshly as when first love shotHis faultlesse arrowes from her rosie eyes)Now lives with him againe, and shee, I know,Will joyne with all helps in her friends revenge.105Bal.No doubt, my lord, and therefore let me pray youTo use all speede; for so on needels pointsMy wifes heart stands with haste of the revenge,Being (as you know) full of her brothers fire,That shee imagines I neglect my vow;110Keepes off her kinde embraces, and still askes,"When, when, will this revenge come? when perform'dWill this dull vow be?" And, I vow to heaven,So sternely, and so past her sexe she urgesMy vowes performance, that I almost feare115To see her, when I have a while beene absent,Not showing her, before I speake, the bloudShe so much thirsts for, freckling hands and face.Ren.Get you the challenge writ, and looke from meTo heare your passage clear'd no long time after.Exit Ren[el].120Bal.All restitution to your worthiest lordship!Whose errand I must carrie to the King,As having sworne my service in the searchOf all such malecontents and their designes,By seeming one affected with their faction125And discontented humours gainst the state:Nor doth my brother Clermont scape my counsaileGiven to the King about his Guisean greatnesse,Which (as I spice it) hath possest the King,Knowing his daring spirit, of much danger130Charg'd in it to his person; though my conscienceDare sweare him cleare of any power to beInfected with the least dishonestie:Yet that sinceritie, wee politiciansMust say, growes out of envie since it cannot135Aspire to policies greatnesse; and the moreWe worke on all respects of kinde and vertue,The more our service to the King seemes great,In sparing no good that seemes bad to him:And the more bad we make the most of good,140The more our policie searcheth, and our serviceIs wonder'd at for wisedome and sincerenesse.Tis easie to make good suspected still,Where good, and God, are made but cloakes for ill.

Baligny.To what will this declining kingdome turne,

Swindging in every license, as in this

Stupide permission of brave D'Ambois Murther?

Murther made paralell with Law! Murther us'd

To serve the kingdome, given by sute to men5

For their advancement! suffered scarcrow-like

To fright adulterie! what will policie

At length bring under his capacitie?

Renel.All things; for as, when the high births of Kings,Deliverances, and coronations,10We celebrate with all the cities belsJangling together in untun'd confusion,All order'd clockes are tyed up; so, when glory,Flatterie, and smooth applauses of things ill,Uphold th'inordinate swindge of downe-right power,15Justice, and truth that tell the bounded use,Vertuous and well distinguisht formes of time,Are gag'd and tongue-tide. But wee have observ'dRule in more regular motion: things most lawfullWere once most royall; Kings sought common good,20Mens manly liberties, though ne'er so meane,And had their owne swindge so more free, and more.But when pride enter'd them, and rule by power,All browes that smil'd beneath them, frown'd; hearts griev'dBy imitation; vertue quite was vanisht,25And all men studi'd selfe-love, fraud, and vice.Then no man could be good but he was punisht.Tyrants, being still more fearefull of the goodThen of the bad, their subjects vertues everManag'd with curbs and dangers, and esteem'd30As shadowes and detractions to their owne.

Renel.All things; for as, when the high births of Kings,

Deliverances, and coronations,10

We celebrate with all the cities bels

Jangling together in untun'd confusion,

All order'd clockes are tyed up; so, when glory,

Flatterie, and smooth applauses of things ill,

Uphold th'inordinate swindge of downe-right power,15

Justice, and truth that tell the bounded use,

Vertuous and well distinguisht formes of time,

Are gag'd and tongue-tide. But wee have observ'd

Rule in more regular motion: things most lawfull

Were once most royall; Kings sought common good,20

Mens manly liberties, though ne'er so meane,

And had their owne swindge so more free, and more.

But when pride enter'd them, and rule by power,

All browes that smil'd beneath them, frown'd; hearts griev'd

By imitation; vertue quite was vanisht,25

And all men studi'd selfe-love, fraud, and vice.

Then no man could be good but he was punisht.

Tyrants, being still more fearefull of the good

Then of the bad, their subjects vertues ever

Manag'd with curbs and dangers, and esteem'd30

As shadowes and detractions to their owne.

Bal.Now all is peace, no danger, now what followes?Idlenesse rusts us, since no vertuous labourEnds ought rewarded; ease, securitie,Now all the palme weares. Wee made warre before35So to prevent warre; men with giving gifts,More then receiving, made our countrey strong;Our matchlesse race of souldiers then would spendIn publike warres, not private brawles, their spirits;In daring enemies, arm'd with meanest armes,40Not courting strumpets, and consuming birth-rightsIn apishnesse and envy of attire.No labour then was harsh, no way so deepe,No rocke so steepe, but if a bird could scale it,Up would our youth flie to. A foe in armes45Stirr'd up a much more lust of his encounterThen of a mistresse never so be-painted.Ambition then was onely scaling walles,And over-topping turrets; fame was wealth;Best parts, best deedes, were best nobilitie;50Honour with worth, and wealth well got or none.Countries we wonne with as few men as countries:Vertue subdu'd all.

Bal.Now all is peace, no danger, now what followes?

Idlenesse rusts us, since no vertuous labour

Ends ought rewarded; ease, securitie,

Now all the palme weares. Wee made warre before35

So to prevent warre; men with giving gifts,

More then receiving, made our countrey strong;

Our matchlesse race of souldiers then would spend

In publike warres, not private brawles, their spirits;

In daring enemies, arm'd with meanest armes,40

Not courting strumpets, and consuming birth-rights

In apishnesse and envy of attire.

No labour then was harsh, no way so deepe,

No rocke so steepe, but if a bird could scale it,

Up would our youth flie to. A foe in armes45

Stirr'd up a much more lust of his encounter

Then of a mistresse never so be-painted.

Ambition then was onely scaling walles,

And over-topping turrets; fame was wealth;

Best parts, best deedes, were best nobilitie;50

Honour with worth, and wealth well got or none.

Countries we wonne with as few men as countries:

Vertue subdu'd all.

Ren.Just: and then our noblesLov'd vertue so, they prais'd and us'd it to;Had rather doe then say; their owne deedes hearing55By others glorified, then be so barraineThat their parts onely stood in praising others.

Ren.Just: and then our nobles

Lov'd vertue so, they prais'd and us'd it to;

Had rather doe then say; their owne deedes hearing55

By others glorified, then be so barraine

That their parts onely stood in praising others.

Bal.Who could not doe, yet prais'd, and envi'd not;Civile behaviour flourisht; bountie flow'd;Avarice to upland boores, slaves, hang-men banisht.60

Bal.Who could not doe, yet prais'd, and envi'd not;

Civile behaviour flourisht; bountie flow'd;

Avarice to upland boores, slaves, hang-men banisht.60

Ren.Tis now quite otherwise. But to note the causeOf all these foule digressions and revoltsFrom our first natures, this tis in a word:Since good arts faile, crafts and deceits are us'd:Men ignorant are idle; idle men65Most practise what they most may doe with ease,Fashion and favour; all their studies aymingAt getting money, which no wise man everFed his desires with.

Ren.Tis now quite otherwise. But to note the cause

Of all these foule digressions and revolts

From our first natures, this tis in a word:

Since good arts faile, crafts and deceits are us'd:

Men ignorant are idle; idle men65

Most practise what they most may doe with ease,

Fashion and favour; all their studies ayming

At getting money, which no wise man ever

Fed his desires with.

Bal.Yet now none are wiseThat thinke not heavens true foolish, weigh'd with that.70Well, thou most worthy to be greatest Guise,Make with thy greatnesse a new world arise.Such deprest nobles (followers of his)As you, my selfe, my lord, will finde a timeWhen to revenge your wrongs.

Bal.Yet now none are wise

That thinke not heavens true foolish, weigh'd with that.70

Well, thou most worthy to be greatest Guise,

Make with thy greatnesse a new world arise.

Such deprest nobles (followers of his)

As you, my selfe, my lord, will finde a time

When to revenge your wrongs.

Ren.I make no doubt:75In meane time, I could wish the wrong were rightedOf your slaine brother in law, brave Bussy D'Ambois.

Ren.I make no doubt:75

In meane time, I could wish the wrong were righted

Of your slaine 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 suite would consent to satisfie80My love of her with marriage, till I vow'dTo use my utmost to revenge my brother:But Clermont D'Ambois (Bussy's second brother)Had, since, his apparition, and excitementTo suffer none but his hand in his wreake;85Which hee hath vow'd, and so will needes acquiteMe of my vow made to my wife, his sister,And undertake himselfe Bussy's revenge.Yet loathing any way to give it act,But in the noblest and most manly course,90If th'Earle dares take it, he resolves to sendA challenge to him, and my selfe must beare it;To which deliverie I can use no meanes,He is so barricado'd in his house,And arm'd with guard still.

Bal.That one accident was made my charge.

My brother Bussy's sister (now my wife)

By no suite would consent to satisfie80

My love of her with marriage, till I vow'd

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 wreake;85

Which hee hath vow'd, and so will needes acquite

Me of my vow made to my wife, his sister,

And undertake himselfe Bussy's revenge.

Yet loathing any way to give it act,

But in the noblest and most manly course,90

If th'Earle dares take it, he resolves to send

A challenge to him, and my selfe must beare it;

To which deliverie I can use no meanes,

He is so barricado'd in his house,

And arm'd with guard still.

Ren.That meanes lay on mee,95Which I can strangely make. My last lands sale,By his great suite, stands now on price with him,And hee (as you know) passing covetous,With that blinde greedinesse that followes gaine,Will cast no danger where her sweete feete tread.100Besides, you know, his lady, by his suite(Wooing as freshly as when first love shotHis faultlesse arrowes from her rosie eyes)Now lives with him againe, and shee, I know,Will joyne with all helps in her friends revenge.105

Ren.That meanes lay on mee,95

Which I can strangely make. My last lands sale,

By his great suite, stands now on price with him,

And hee (as you know) passing covetous,

With that blinde greedinesse that followes gaine,

Will cast no danger where her sweete feete tread.100

Besides, you know, his lady, by his suite

(Wooing as freshly as when first love shot

His faultlesse arrowes from her rosie eyes)

Now lives with him againe, and shee, I know,

Will joyne with all helps in her friends revenge.105

Bal.No doubt, my lord, and therefore let me pray youTo use all speede; for so on needels pointsMy wifes heart stands with haste of the revenge,Being (as you know) full of her brothers fire,That shee imagines I neglect my vow;110Keepes off her kinde embraces, and still askes,"When, when, will this revenge come? when perform'dWill this dull vow be?" And, I vow to heaven,So sternely, and so past her sexe she urgesMy vowes performance, that I almost feare115To see her, when I have a while beene absent,Not showing her, before I speake, the bloudShe so much thirsts for, freckling hands and face.

Bal.No doubt, my lord, and therefore let me pray you

To use all speede; for so on needels points

My wifes heart stands with haste of the revenge,

Being (as you know) full of her brothers fire,

That shee imagines I neglect my vow;110

Keepes off her kinde embraces, and still askes,

"When, when, will this revenge come? when perform'd

Will this dull vow be?" And, I vow to heaven,

So sternely, and so past her sexe she urges

My vowes performance, that I almost feare115

To see her, when I have a while beene absent,

Not showing her, before I speake, the bloud

She so much thirsts for, freckling hands and face.

Ren.Get you the challenge writ, and looke from meTo heare your passage clear'd no long time after.Exit Ren[el].120

Ren.Get you the challenge writ, and looke from me

To heare your passage clear'd no long time after.Exit Ren[el].120

Bal.All restitution to your worthiest lordship!Whose errand I must carrie to the King,As having sworne my service in the searchOf all such malecontents and their designes,By seeming one affected with their faction125And discontented humours gainst the state:Nor doth my brother Clermont scape my counsaileGiven to the King about his Guisean greatnesse,Which (as I spice it) hath possest the King,Knowing his daring spirit, of much danger130Charg'd in it to his person; though my conscienceDare sweare him cleare of any power to beInfected with the least dishonestie:Yet that sinceritie, wee politiciansMust say, growes out of envie since it cannot135Aspire to policies greatnesse; and the moreWe worke on all respects of kinde and vertue,The more our service to the King seemes great,In sparing no good that seemes bad to him:And the more bad we make the most of good,140The more our policie searcheth, and our serviceIs wonder'd at for wisedome and sincerenesse.Tis easie to make good suspected still,Where good, and God, are made but cloakes for ill.

Bal.All restitution to your worthiest lordship!

Whose errand I must carrie to the King,

As having sworne my service in the search

Of all such malecontents and their designes,

By seeming one affected with their faction125

And discontented humours gainst the state:

Nor doth my brother Clermont scape my counsaile

Given to the King about his Guisean greatnesse,

Which (as I spice it) hath possest the King,

Knowing his daring spirit, of much danger130

Charg'd in it to his person; though my conscience

Dare sweare him cleare of any power to be

Infected with the least dishonestie:

Yet that sinceritie, wee politicians

Must say, growes out of envie since it cannot135

Aspire to policies greatnesse; and the more

We worke on all respects of kinde and vertue,

The more our service to the King seemes great,

In sparing no good that seemes bad to him:

And the more bad we make the most of good,140

The more our policie searcheth, and our service

Is wonder'd at for wisedome and sincerenesse.

Tis easie to make good suspected still,

Where good, and God, are made but cloakes for ill.

Enter Henry, Monsieur, Guise, Clerm[ont], Espernone, Soisson. Monsieur taking leave of the King.

See Monsieur taking now his leave for Brabant;145The Guise & his deare minion, Clermont D'Ambois,Whispering together, not of state affaires,I durst lay wagers, (though the Guise be nowIn chiefe heate of his faction) but of some thingSavouring of that which all men else despise,150How to be truely noble, truely wise.Monsieur.See how hee hangs upon the eare of Guise,Like to his jewell!Epernon.Hee's now whisp'ring inSome doctrine of stabilitie and freedome,Contempt of outward greatnesse, and the guises155That vulgar great ones make their pride and zeale,Being onely servile traines, and sumptuous houses,High places, offices.Mons.Contempt of theseDoes he read to the Guise? Tis passing needfull,And hee, I thinke, makes show t'affect his doctrine.160Ep.Commends, admires it—Mons.And pursues another.Tis fine hypocrisie, and cheape, and vulgar,Knowne for a covert practise, yet beleev'dBy those abus'd soules that they teach and governeNo more then wives adulteries by their husbands,165They bearing it with so unmov'd aspects,Hot comming from it, as twere not [at] all,Or made by custome nothing. This same D'AmboisHath gotten such opinion of his vertues,Holding all learning but an art to live well,170And showing hee hath learn'd it in his life,Being thereby strong in his perswading others,That this ambitious Guise, embracing him,Is thought t'embrace his vertues.Ep.Yet in someHis vertues are held false for th'others vices:175For tis more cunning held, and much more common,To suspect truth then falshood: and of bothTruth still fares worse, as hardly being beleev'd,As tis unusuall and rarely knowne.Mons.Ile part engendring vertue. Men affirme,180Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois spirit,And breathes his brothers valour, yet his temperIs so much past his that you cannot move him:Ile try that temper in him.—Come, you twoDevoure each other with your vertues zeale,185And leave for other friends no fragment of yee:I wonder, Guise, you will thus ravish himOut of my bosome, that first gave the lifeHis manhood breathes spirit, and meanes, and luster.What doe men thinke of me, I pray thee, Clermont?190Once give me leave (for tryall of that loveThat from thy brother Bussy thou inherit'st)T'unclaspe thy bosome.Clermont.As how, sir?Mons.Be a true glasse to mee, in which I mayBehold what thoughts the many-headed beast195And thou thy selfe breathes out concerning me,My ends and new upstarted state in Brabant,For which I now am bound, my higher aymesImagin'd here in France: speake, man, and letThy words be borne as naked as thy thoughts.200O were brave Bussy living!Cler.Living, my lord!Mons.Tis true thou art his brother, but durst thouHave brav'd the Guise; mauger his presence, courtedHis wedded lady; emptied even the dregsOf his worst thoughts of mee even to my teeth;205Discern'd not me, his rising soveraigne,From any common groome, but let me heareMy grossest faults, as grosse-full as they were?Durst thou doe this?Cler.I cannot tell. A manDoes never know the goodnesse of his stomacke210Till hee sees meate before him. Were I dar'd,Perhaps, as he was, I durst doe like him.Mons.Dare then to poure out here thy freest souleOf what I am.Cler.Tis stale, he tolde you it.Mons.He onely jested, spake of splene and envie;215Thy soule, more learn'd, is more ingenuous,Searching, judiciall; let me then from theeHeare what I am.Cler.What but the sole support,And most expectant hope of all our France,The toward victor of the whole Low Countryes?220Mons.Tush, thou wilt sing encomions of my praise!Is this like D'Ambois? I must vexe the Guise,Or never looke to heare free truth. Tell me,For Bussy lives not; hee durst anger mee,Yet, for my love, would not have fear'd to anger225The King himselfe. Thou understand'st me, dost not?Cler.I shall my lord, with studie.Mons.Dost understand thy selfe? I pray thee tell me,Dost never search thy thoughts, what my designeMight be to entertaine thee and thy brother?230What turne I meant to serve with you?Cler.Even what you please to thinke.Mons.But what thinkst thou?Had I no end in't, think'st?Cler.I thinke you had.Mons.When I tooke in such two as you two were,A ragged couple of decaid commanders,235When a French-crowne would plentifully serveTo buy you both to any thing i'th'earth—Cler.So it would you.Mons.Nay bought you both out-right,You and your trunkes—I feare me, I offend thee.Cler.No, not a jot.Mons.The most renowmed souldier,240Epaminondas (as good authors say)Had no more suites then backes, but you two shar'dBut one suite twixt you both, when both your studiesWere not what meate to dine with, if your partridge,Your snipe, your wood-cocke, larke, or your red hering,245But where to begge it; whether at my house,Or at the Guises (for you know you wereAmbitious beggars) or at some cookes-shop,T'eternize the cookes trust, and score it up.Dost not offend thee?Cler.No, sir. Pray proceede.250Mons.As for thy gentry, I dare boldly takeThy honourable othe: and yet some sayThou and thy most renowmed noble brotherCame to the Court first in a keele of sea-coale.Dost not offend thee?Cler.Never doubt it, sir.255Mons.Why doe I love thee, then? Why have I rak'd theeOut of the dung-hill? cast my cast ward-robe on thee?Brought thee to Court to, as I did thy brother?Made yee my sawcy bon companions?Taught yee to call our greatest Noblemen260By the corruption of their names—Jack, Tom?Have I blowne both for nothing to this bubble?Though thou art learn'd, thast no enchanting wit;Or, were thy wit good, am I therefore boundTo keepe thee for my table?Cler.Well, sir, 'twere265A good knights place. Many a proud dubb'd gallantSeekes out a poore knights living from such emrods.[Mons.] Or what use else should I designe thee to?Perhaps you'll answere me—to be my pander.Cler.Perhaps I shall.Mons.Or did the slie Guise put thee270Into my bosome t'undermine my projects?I feare thee not; for, though I be not sureI have thy heart, I know thy braine-pan yetTo be as emptie a dull piece of wainscotAs ever arm'd the scalpe of any courtier;275A fellow onely that consists of sinewes;Meere Swisser, apt for any execution.Cler.But killing of the King!Mons.Right: now I seeThou understand'st thy selfe.Cler.I, and you better.You are a Kings sonne borne.Mons.Right.Cler.And a Kings brother.280Mons.True.Cler.And might not any foole have beene so too,As well as you?Mons.A poxe upon you!Cler.You did no princely deedesEre you were borne (I take it) to deserve it;285Nor did you any since that I have heard;Nor will doe ever any, as all thinke.Mons.The Divell take him! Ile no more of him.Guise.Nay: stay, my lord, and heare him answere you.Mons.No more, I sweare. Farewell.Ex[eunt] Mons[ieur], Esper[none], Soiss[on].

See Monsieur taking now his leave for Brabant;145

The Guise & his deare minion, Clermont D'Ambois,

Whispering together, not of state affaires,

I durst lay wagers, (though the Guise be now

In chiefe heate of his faction) but of some thing

Savouring of that which all men else despise,150

How to be truely noble, truely wise.

Monsieur.See how hee hangs upon the eare of Guise,Like to his jewell!

Monsieur.See how hee hangs upon the eare of Guise,

Like to his jewell!

Epernon.Hee's now whisp'ring inSome doctrine of stabilitie and freedome,Contempt of outward greatnesse, and the guises155That vulgar great ones make their pride and zeale,Being onely servile traines, and sumptuous houses,High places, offices.

Epernon.Hee's now whisp'ring in

Some doctrine of stabilitie and freedome,

Contempt of outward greatnesse, and the guises155

That vulgar great ones make their pride and zeale,

Being onely servile traines, and sumptuous houses,

High places, offices.

Mons.Contempt of theseDoes he read to the Guise? Tis passing needfull,And hee, I thinke, makes show t'affect his doctrine.160

Mons.Contempt of these

Does he read to the Guise? Tis passing needfull,

And hee, I thinke, makes show t'affect his doctrine.160

Ep.Commends, admires it—

Mons.And pursues another.Tis fine hypocrisie, and cheape, and vulgar,Knowne for a covert practise, yet beleev'dBy those abus'd soules that they teach and governeNo more then wives adulteries by their husbands,165They bearing it with so unmov'd aspects,Hot comming from it, as twere not [at] all,Or made by custome nothing. This same D'AmboisHath gotten such opinion of his vertues,Holding all learning but an art to live well,170And showing hee hath learn'd it in his life,Being thereby strong in his perswading others,That this ambitious Guise, embracing him,Is thought t'embrace his vertues.

Mons.And pursues another.

Tis fine hypocrisie, and cheape, and vulgar,

Knowne for a covert practise, yet beleev'd

By those abus'd soules that they teach and governe

No more then wives adulteries by their husbands,165

They bearing it with so unmov'd aspects,

Hot comming from it, as twere not [at] all,

Or made by custome nothing. This same D'Ambois

Hath gotten such opinion of his vertues,

Holding all learning but an art to live well,170

And showing hee hath learn'd it in his life,

Being thereby strong in his perswading others,

That this ambitious Guise, embracing him,

Is thought t'embrace his vertues.

Ep.Yet in someHis vertues are held false for th'others vices:175For tis more cunning held, and much more common,To suspect truth then falshood: and of bothTruth still fares worse, as hardly being beleev'd,As tis unusuall and rarely knowne.

Ep.Yet in some

His vertues are held false for th'others vices:175

For tis more cunning held, and much more common,

To suspect truth then falshood: and of both

Truth still fares worse, as hardly being beleev'd,

As tis unusuall and rarely knowne.

Mons.Ile part engendring vertue. Men affirme,180Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois spirit,And breathes his brothers valour, yet his temperIs so much past his that you cannot move him:Ile try that temper in him.—Come, you twoDevoure each other with your vertues zeale,185And leave for other friends no fragment of yee:I wonder, Guise, you will thus ravish himOut of my bosome, that first gave the lifeHis manhood breathes spirit, and meanes, and luster.What doe men thinke of me, I pray thee, Clermont?190Once give me leave (for tryall of that loveThat from thy brother Bussy thou inherit'st)T'unclaspe thy bosome.

Mons.Ile part engendring vertue. Men affirme,180

Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois spirit,

And breathes his brothers valour, yet his temper

Is so much past his that you cannot move him:

Ile try that temper in him.—Come, you two

Devoure each other with your vertues zeale,185

And leave for other friends no fragment of yee:

I wonder, Guise, you will thus ravish him

Out of my bosome, that first gave the life

His manhood breathes spirit, and meanes, and luster.

What doe men thinke of me, I pray thee, Clermont?190

Once give me leave (for tryall of that love

That from thy brother Bussy thou inherit'st)

T'unclaspe thy bosome.

Clermont.As how, sir?

Mons.Be a true glasse to mee, in which I mayBehold what thoughts the many-headed beast195And thou thy selfe breathes out concerning me,My ends and new upstarted state in Brabant,For which I now am bound, my higher aymesImagin'd here in France: speake, man, and letThy words be borne as naked as thy thoughts.200O were brave Bussy living!

Mons.Be a true glasse to mee, in which I may

Behold what thoughts the many-headed beast195

And thou thy selfe breathes out concerning me,

My ends and new upstarted state in Brabant,

For which I now am bound, my higher aymes

Imagin'd here in France: speake, man, and let

Thy words be borne as naked as thy thoughts.200

O were brave Bussy living!

Cler.Living, my lord!

Mons.Tis true thou art his brother, but durst thouHave brav'd the Guise; mauger his presence, courtedHis wedded lady; emptied even the dregsOf his worst thoughts of mee even to my teeth;205Discern'd not me, his rising soveraigne,From any common groome, but let me heareMy grossest faults, as grosse-full as they were?Durst thou doe this?

Mons.Tis true thou art his brother, but durst thou

Have brav'd the Guise; mauger his presence, courted

His wedded lady; emptied even the dregs

Of his worst thoughts of mee even to my teeth;205

Discern'd not me, his rising soveraigne,

From any common groome, but let me heare

My grossest faults, as grosse-full as they were?

Durst thou doe this?

Cler.I cannot tell. A manDoes never know the goodnesse of his stomacke210Till hee sees meate before him. Were I dar'd,Perhaps, as he was, I durst doe like him.

Cler.I cannot tell. A man

Does never know the goodnesse of his stomacke210

Till hee sees meate before him. Were I dar'd,

Perhaps, as he was, I durst doe like him.

Mons.Dare then to poure out here thy freest souleOf what I am.

Mons.Dare then to poure out here thy freest soule

Of what I am.

Cler.Tis stale, he tolde you it.

Mons.He onely jested, spake of splene and envie;215Thy soule, more learn'd, is more ingenuous,Searching, judiciall; let me then from theeHeare what I am.

Mons.He onely jested, spake of splene and envie;215

Thy soule, more learn'd, is more ingenuous,

Searching, judiciall; let me then from thee

Heare what I am.

Cler.What but the sole support,And most expectant hope of all our France,The toward victor of the whole Low Countryes?220

Cler.What but the sole support,

And most expectant hope of all our France,

The toward victor of the whole Low Countryes?220

Mons.Tush, thou wilt sing encomions of my praise!Is this like D'Ambois? I must vexe the Guise,Or never looke to heare free truth. Tell me,For Bussy lives not; hee durst anger mee,Yet, for my love, would not have fear'd to anger225The King himselfe. Thou understand'st me, dost not?

Mons.Tush, thou wilt sing encomions of my praise!

Is this like D'Ambois? I must vexe the Guise,

Or never looke to heare free truth. Tell me,

For Bussy lives not; hee durst anger mee,

Yet, for my love, would not have fear'd to anger225

The King himselfe. Thou understand'st me, dost not?

Cler.I shall my lord, with studie.

Mons.Dost understand thy selfe? I pray thee tell me,Dost never search thy thoughts, what my designeMight be to entertaine thee and thy brother?230What turne I meant to serve with you?

Mons.Dost understand thy selfe? I pray thee tell me,

Dost never search thy thoughts, what my designe

Might be to entertaine thee and thy brother?230

What turne I meant to serve with you?

Cler.Even what you please to thinke.

Mons.But what thinkst thou?Had I no end in't, think'st?

Mons.But what thinkst thou?

Had I no end in't, think'st?

Cler.I thinke you had.

Mons.When I tooke in such two as you two were,A ragged couple of decaid commanders,235When a French-crowne would plentifully serveTo buy you both to any thing i'th'earth—

Mons.When I tooke in such two as you two were,

A ragged couple of decaid commanders,235

When a French-crowne would plentifully serve

To buy you both to any thing i'th'earth—

Cler.So it would you.

Mons.Nay bought you both out-right,You and your trunkes—I feare me, I offend thee.

Mons.Nay bought you both out-right,

You and your trunkes—I feare me, I offend thee.

Cler.No, not a jot.

Mons.The most renowmed souldier,240Epaminondas (as good authors say)Had no more suites then backes, but you two shar'dBut one suite twixt you both, when both your studiesWere not what meate to dine with, if your partridge,Your snipe, your wood-cocke, larke, or your red hering,245But where to begge it; whether at my house,Or at the Guises (for you know you wereAmbitious beggars) or at some cookes-shop,T'eternize the cookes trust, and score it up.Dost not offend thee?

Mons.The most renowmed souldier,240

Epaminondas (as good authors say)

Had no more suites then backes, but you two shar'd

But one suite twixt you both, when both your studies

Were not what meate to dine with, if your partridge,

Your snipe, your wood-cocke, larke, or your red hering,245

But where to begge it; whether at my house,

Or at the Guises (for you know you were

Ambitious beggars) or at some cookes-shop,

T'eternize the cookes trust, and score it up.

Dost not offend thee?

Cler.No, sir. Pray proceede.250

Mons.As for thy gentry, I dare boldly takeThy honourable othe: and yet some sayThou and thy most renowmed noble brotherCame to the Court first in a keele of sea-coale.Dost not offend thee?

Mons.As for thy gentry, I dare boldly take

Thy honourable othe: and yet some say

Thou and thy most renowmed noble brother

Came to the Court first in a keele of sea-coale.

Dost not offend thee?

Cler.Never doubt it, sir.255

Mons.Why doe I love thee, then? Why have I rak'd theeOut of the dung-hill? cast my cast ward-robe on thee?Brought thee to Court to, as I did thy brother?Made yee my sawcy bon companions?Taught yee to call our greatest Noblemen260By the corruption of their names—Jack, Tom?Have I blowne both for nothing to this bubble?Though thou art learn'd, thast no enchanting wit;Or, were thy wit good, am I therefore boundTo keepe thee for my table?

Mons.Why doe I love thee, then? Why have I rak'd thee

Out of the dung-hill? cast my cast ward-robe on thee?

Brought thee to Court to, as I did thy brother?

Made yee my sawcy bon companions?

Taught yee to call our greatest Noblemen260

By the corruption of their names—Jack, Tom?

Have I blowne both for nothing to this bubble?

Though thou art learn'd, thast no enchanting wit;

Or, were thy wit good, am I therefore bound

To keepe thee for my table?

Cler.Well, sir, 'twere265A good knights place. Many a proud dubb'd gallantSeekes out a poore knights living from such emrods.

Cler.Well, sir, 'twere265

A good knights place. Many a proud dubb'd gallant

Seekes out a poore knights living from such emrods.

[Mons.] Or what use else should I designe thee to?Perhaps you'll answere me—to be my pander.

[Mons.] Or what use else should I designe thee to?

Perhaps you'll answere me—to be my pander.

Cler.Perhaps I shall.

Mons.Or did the slie Guise put thee270Into my bosome t'undermine my projects?I feare thee not; for, though I be not sureI have thy heart, I know thy braine-pan yetTo be as emptie a dull piece of wainscotAs ever arm'd the scalpe of any courtier;275A fellow onely that consists of sinewes;Meere Swisser, apt for any execution.

Mons.Or did the slie Guise put thee270

Into my bosome t'undermine my projects?

I feare thee not; for, though I be not sure

I have thy heart, I know thy braine-pan yet

To be as emptie a dull piece of wainscot

As ever arm'd the scalpe of any courtier;275

A fellow onely that consists of sinewes;

Meere Swisser, apt for any execution.

Cler.But killing of the King!

Mons.Right: now I seeThou understand'st thy selfe.

Mons.Right: now I see

Thou understand'st thy selfe.

Cler.I, and you better.You are a Kings sonne borne.

Cler.I, and you better.

You are a Kings sonne borne.

Mons.Right.

Cler.And a Kings brother.280

Mons.True.

Cler.And might not any foole have beene so too,As well as you?

Cler.And might not any foole have beene so too,

As well as you?

Mons.A poxe upon you!

Cler.You did no princely deedesEre you were borne (I take it) to deserve it;285Nor did you any since that I have heard;Nor will doe ever any, as all thinke.

Cler.You did no princely deedes

Ere you were borne (I take it) to deserve it;285

Nor did you any since that I have heard;

Nor will doe ever any, as all thinke.

Mons.The Divell take him! Ile no more of him.

Guise.Nay: stay, my lord, and heare him answere you.

Mons.No more, I sweare. Farewell.Ex[eunt] Mons[ieur], Esper[none], Soiss[on].

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