Chapter XXXIV: Act IV: Scene I.1034

[_Enter_] HENRY, Monsieur, _with a letter_; GUISE, MONTSURRY, BUSSY, ELENOR, TAMYRA, BEAUPRE, PERO, CHARLOTTE, ANNABELLE, PYRA, _with four_ Pages.

_He._ Ladies, ye have not done our banquet right,
Nor lookt upon it with those cheerful rays
That lately turn’d your breaths to floods of gold;
Your looks, methinks, are not drawn out with thoughts
So clear and free as heretofore, but foul, 5
As if the thick complexions of men
Govern’d within them.

_Bu._ ’Tis not like, my lord,
That men in women rule, but contrary;
For as the moon (of all things God created)
Not only is the most appropriate image 10
Or glass to show them how they wax and wane,
But in her height and motion likewise bears
Imperial influences that command
In all their powers, and make them wax and wane; 14
So women, that (of all things made of nothing)
Are the most perfect idols of the moon,
Or still-unwean’d sweet moon-calves with white faces,
Not only are patterns of change to men,
But as the tender moonshine of their beauties
Clears or is cloudy, make men glad or sad; 20
So then they rule in men, not men in them.

_Mo._ But here the moons are chang’d, (as the King notes)
And either men rule in them, or some power
Beyond their voluntary faculty,
For nothing can recover their lost faces. 25

_Mont._ None can be always one: our griefs and joys
Hold several sceptres in us, and have times
For their divided empires: which grief now, in them
Doth prove as proper to his diadem.

_Bu._ And grief’s a natural sickness of the blood, 30
That time to part asks, as his coming had;
Only slight fools griev’d suddenly are glad.
A man may say t’ a dead man, “Be reviv’d,”
As well as to one sorrowful, “Be not griev’d,”
And therefore, princely mistress,[1035] in all wars 35
Against these base foes that insult on weakness,
And still fight hous’d behind the shield of Nature,
Of privilege, law, treachery, or beastly need,
Your servant[1036] cannot help; authority here
Goes with corruption: something like some states, 40
That back worst men: valour to them must creep
That, to themselves left, would fear him asleep.

_Du._ Ye all take that for granted that doth rest
Yet to be prov’d; we all are as we were,
As merry and as free in thought as ever. 45

_Gu._ And why then can ye not disclose your thoughts?

_Ta._ Methinks the man hath answer’d for us well.

_Mo._ The man? Why, madam, d’ ye not know his name?

_Ta._ Man is a name of honour for a king: 49
Additions[1037] take away from each chief thing:
The school of modesty not to learn learns dames:
They sit in high forms[1038] there, that know men’s names.

_Mo._ [_to_ BUSSY.] Hark! sweetheart, here’s a bar set to your valour;
It cannot enter here; no, not to notice 54
Of what your name is. Your great eagle’s beak
(Should you fly at her) had as good encounter
An Albion cliff, as her more craggy liver.[1039]

_Bu._ I’ll not attempt her, sir; her sight and name
(By which I only know her) doth deter me. 59

_He._ So do they all men else.

_Mo._ You would say so
If you knew all.

_Ta._ Knew all, my lord? What mean you?

_Mo._ All that I know, madam.

_Ta._ That you know? Speak it.

_Mo._ No, ’tis enough. I feel it.

_He._ But, methinks
Her courtship is more pure than heretofore; 64
True courtiers should be modest, but not nice;[1040]
Bold, but not impudent; pleasure love, not vice.

_Mo._ Sweetheart! come hither, what if one should make
Horns at Montsurry? Would it not strike him jealous
Through all the proofs of his chaste lady’s virtues?

_Bu._ If he be wise, not. 70

_Mo._ What? Not if I should name the gardener
That I would have him think hath grafted him?

_Bu._ So the large licence that your greatness uses
To jest at all men may be taught indeed
To make a difference of the grounds you play on, 75
Both in the men you scandal, and the matter.

_Mo._ As how? as how?

_Bu._ Perhaps led with a train,
Where you may have your nose made less and slit,
Your eyes thrust out.

_Mo._ Peace, peace, I pray thee peace. 79
Who dares do that? The brother of his king?

_Bu._ Were your king brother in you; all your powers
(Stretcht in the arms of great men and their bawds),
Set close down by you; all your stormy laws
Spouted with lawyers’ mouths, and gushing blood
Like to so many torrents; all your glories 85
Making you terrible, like enchanted flames
Fed with bare cockscombs[1041] and with crooked hams;[1041]
All your prerogatives, your shames, and tortures;
All daring heaven, and opening hell about you;— 89
Were I the man ye wrong’d so and provok’d,
Though ne’er so much beneath you, like a box-tree
I would out of the roughness of my root
Ram hardness, in my lowness, and like death
Mounted on earthquakes, I would trot through all
Honours and horrors, thorough foul and fair, 95
And from your whole strength toss you into the air.

_Mo._ Go, th’art a devil; such another spirit
Could not be ’still’d from all th’ Armenian dragons.
O my love’s glory! Heir to all I have,
(That’s all I can say, and that all I swear) 100
If thou outlive me, as I know thou must,
Or else hath nature no proportion’d end
To her great labours; she hath breath’d a mind
Into thy entrails, of desert to swell
Into another great Augustus Cæsar; 105
Organs and faculties fitted to her greatness;
And should that perish like a common spirit,
Nature’s a courtier and regards no merit.

_He._ Here’s nought but whispering with us; like a calm
Before a tempest, when the silent air 110
Lays her soft ear close to the earth to hearken
For that she fears steals on to ravish her;
Some fate doth join our ears to hear it coming.
Come, my brave eagle, let’s to covert fly;
I see almighty Aether in the smoke 115
Of all his clouds descending; and the sky
Hid in the dim ostents[1042] of tragedy.
_Exit_ HENRY _with_ D’AMBOIS _and_ Ladies.

_Gu._ Now stir the humour, and begin the brawl.

_Mont._ The King and D’Ambois now are grown all one. 119

_Mo._ Nay, they are two,[1043] my lord.

_Mont._ How’s that?

_Mo._ No more.

_Mont._ I must have more, my lord.

_Mo._ What, more than two?

_Mont._ How monstrous is this!

_Mo._ Why?

_Mont._ You make me horns.

_Mo._ Not I; it is a work without my power,
Married men’s ensigns are not made with fingers;
Of divine fabric they are, not men’s hands. 125
Your wife, you know, is a mere[1044] Cynthia,
And she must fashion horns out of her nature.

_Mont._ But doth she—dare you charge her?
Speak, false prince.

_Mo._ I must not speak, my lord; but if you’ll use
The learning of a nobleman, and read, 130
Here’s something to those points; soft, you must pawn[1045]
Your honour having read it to return it.

_Mont._ Not I. I pawn my honour for a paper!

_Mo._ You must not buy it under.
_Exeunt_ GUISE _and_ Monsieur.

_Mont._ Keep it then,
And keep fire in your bosom.

_Ta._ What says he?

_Mont._ You must make good the rest.

_Ta._ How fares my lord?
Takes my love anything to heart he says? 137

_Mont._ Come y’ are a——

_Ta._ What, my lord?

_Mont._ The plague of Herod
Feast in his rotten entrails.

_Ta._ Will you wreak
Your anger’s just cause given by him, on me?

_Mont._ By him?

_Ta._ By him, my lord. I have admir’d[1046]
You could all this time be at concord with him,
That still hath play’d such discords on your honour. 143

_Mont._ Perhaps ’tis with some proud string of my wife’s.

_Ta._ How’s that, my lord?

_Mont._ Your tongue will still admire, 145
Till my head be the miracle of the world.

_Ta._ Oh, woe is me! _She seems to swound._

_Pe._ What does your lordship mean?
Madam, be comforted; my lord but tries you.
Madam! Help, good my lord, are you not mov’d?
Do your set looks print in your words your thoughts? 150
Sweet lord, clear up those eyes,
Unbend that masking forehead; whence is it
You rush upon her with these Irish wars,
More full of sound than hurt? But it is enough;
You have shot home, your words are in her heart; 155
She has not liv’d to bear a trial now.

_Mont._ Look up, my love, and by this kiss receive
My soul amongst the spirits for supply
To thine, chas’d with my fury.

_Ta._ Oh, my lord,
I have too long liv’d to hear this from you. 160

_Mont._ ’T was from my troubled blood, and not from me.
I know not how I fare; a sudden night
Flows through my entrails, and a headlong chaos
Murmurs within me, which I must digest,
And not drown her in my confusions, 165
That was my life’s joy, being best inform’d.
Sweet, you must needs forgive me, that my love
(Like to a fire disdaining his suppression)
Rag’d being discourag’d; my whole heart is wounded 170
When any least thought in you is but toucht,
And shall be till I know your former merits;
Your name and memory altogether crave
In just oblivion their eternal grave;
And then you must hear from me, there’s no mean
In any passion I shall feel for you. 176
Love is a razor, cleansing being well us’d,
But fetcheth blood still being the least abus’d.
To tell you briefly all: the man that left me
When you appear’d, did turn me worse than woman,
And stabb’d me to the heart thus, with his fingers.[1047] 180

_Ta._ Oh, happy woman! Comes my stain from him,
It is my beauty, and that innocence proves
That slew Chimaera, rescued Peleus
From all the savage beasts in Pelion;
And rais’d the chaste Athenian prince[1048] from hell; 185
All suffering with me, they for women’s lusts,
I for a man’s, that the Augean stable
Of his foul sin would empty in my lap.
How his guilt shunn’d me, sacred innocence
That where thou fear’st, art dreadful![1049] and his face 190
Turn’d in flight from thee, that had thee in chase!
Come, bring me to him; I will tell the serpent
Even to his venom’d teeth (from whose curst seed
A pitcht field starts up ’twixt my lord and me)
That his throat lies, and he shall curse his fingers, 195
For being so govern’d by his filthy soul.

_Mont._ I know not if himself will vaunt t’ have been
The princely author of the slavish sin,
Or any other; he would have resolv’d[1050] me
Had you not come; not by his word, but writing,
Would I have sworn to give it him again, 201
And pawn’d mine honour to him for a paper.

_Ta._ See how he flies me still; ’tis a foul heart
That fears his own hand. Good my lord, make haste
To see the dangerous paper; papers hold
Oft-times the forms and copies of our souls, 206
And, though the world despise them, are the prizes
Of all our honours; make your honour then
A hostage for it, and with it confer
My nearest woman here, in all she knows; 210
Who (if the sun or Cerberus could have seen
Any stain in me) might as well as they;
And, Pero, here I charge thee by my love,
And all proofs of it (which I might call bounties),
By all that thou hast seen seem good in me, 215
And all the ill which thou shouldst spit from thee,
By pity of the wound this touch hath given me,
Not as thy mistress now, but a poor woman,
To death given over, rid me of my pains, 219
Pour on thy powder; clear thy breast of me;
My lord is only here; here speak thy worst,
Thy best will do me mischief. If thou spar’st me,
Never shine good thought on thy memory!
Resolve, my lord, and leave me desperate.

_Pe._ My lord! My lord hath play’d a prodigal’s part, 225
To break his stock for nothing; and an insolent,
To cut a gordian when he could not loose it.
What violence is this, to put true fire
To a false train? to blow up long-crown’d peace
With sudden outrage, and believe a man 230
Sworn to the shame of women, ’gainst a woman,
Born to their honours? But I will to him.

_Ta._ No, I will write (for I shall never more
Meet with the fugitive) where I will defy him,
Were he ten times the brother of my king. 235
To him, my lord, and I’ll to cursing him. _Exeunt._

[SCENE II.][1051]

_Enter_ D’AMBOIS _and_ Friar.

_Bu._ I am suspicious, my most honour’d father,
By some of Monsieur’s cunning passages,
That his still ranging and contentious nostrils,
To scent the haunts of mischief have so us’d
The vicious virtue of his busy sense, 5
That he trails hotly of him, and will rouse him,
Driving him all enrag’d and foaming, on us;
And therefore have entreated your deep skill
In the command of good aerial spirits,
To assume these magic rites, and call up one 10
To know if any have reveal’d unto him
Anything touching my dear love and me.

_Fr._ Good son, you have amaz’d me but to make
The least doubt of it, it concerns so nearly
The faith and reverence of my name and order.
Yet will I justify, upon my soul, 15
All I have done.
If any spirit i’ the earth or air
Can give you the resolve,[1052] do not despair.

_Music._ TAMYRA _enters with_ PERO, _her maid, bearing a letter._

_Ta._ Away, deliver it: _Exit_ PERO.
O may my lines
Fill’d with the poison of a woman’s hate 21
When he shall open them, shrink up his curst eyes
With torturous darkness, such as stands in hell,
Stuck full of inward horrors, never lighted;
With which are all things to be fear’d, affrighted; 25
[Father!
_Ascendit_ BUSSY _with_ Friar.][1053]

_Bu._ How is it with my honour’d mistress?

_Ta._ O servant, help, and save me from the gripes
Of shame and infamy. Our love is known:
Your Monsieur hath a paper where is writ
Some secret tokens that decipher it. 30

_Bu._ What cold dull northern brain, what fool but he
Durst take into his Epimethean breast
A box of such plagues as the danger yields
Incurr’d in this discovery? He had better
Ventur’d his breast in the consuming reach 35
Of the hot surfeits cast out of the clouds,
Or stood the bullets that (to wreak the sky)
The Cyclops ram in Jove’s artillery.

_Fr._ We soon will take the darkness from his face
That did that deed of darkness; we will know 40
What now the Monsieur and your husband do;
What is contain’d within the secret paper
Offer’d by Monsieur, and your love’s events:
To which ends, honour’d daughter, at your motion,
I have put on these exorcising rites, 45
And, by my power of learned holiness
Vouchsaft me from above, I will command
Our resolution[1054] of a raised spirit.

_Ta._ Good father, raise him in some beauteous form
That with least terror I may brook his sight. 50

_Fr._ Stand sure together, then, whate’er ye see,
And stir not, as ye tender all our lives.
_He puts on his robes._
_Occidentalium legionum spiritualium imperator (magnus ille Behemoth)
veni, veni, comitatus cum Asaroth locotenente invicto Adjurote per
Stygis (55) inscrutabilia arcana, per ipsos irremeabiles anfractus
Averni: adesto o Behemoth, tu cui pervia sunt Magnatum scrinia; veni,
per Noctis & tenebrarum abdita profundissima; per labentia sidera,
per ipsos motus horarum furtivos, Hecatesque altum dentium. 60
Appare in forma spiritali, lucente, splendida & amabili._
[_Thunder. Ascendit_ Behemoth _with_ Cartophylax _and other spirits_.]

_Beh._ What would the holy Friar?

_Fr._ I would see
What now the Monsieur and Montsurry do;
And see the secret paper that the Monsieur 65
Offer’d to Count Montsurry, longing much
To know on what events the secret loves
Of these two honour’d persons shall arrive.

_Beh._ Why call’dst thou me to this accursed light
To these light purposes? I am emperor 70
Of that inscrutable darkness where are hid
All deepest truths, and secrets never seen,
All which I know; and command legions
Of knowing spirits that can do more than these.
Any of this my guard that circle me 75
In these blue fires, and out of whose dim fumes
Vast murmurs use to break, and from their sounds
Articulate voices, can do ten parts more
Than open such slight truths as you require.

_Fr._ From the last night’s black depth I call’d up one 80
Of the inferior ablest ministers,
And he could not resolve me. Send one then
Out of thine own command, to fetch the paper
That Monsieur hath to show to Count Montsurry.

_Beh._ I will. Cartophylax, thou that properly
Hast in thy power all papers so inscrib’d, 86
Glide through all bars to it and fetch that paper.

_Cartoph._ I will. _A torch removes._

_Fr._ Till he returns, great prince of darkness,
Tell me if Monsieur and the Count Montsurry
Are yet encounter’d?

_Beh._ Both them and the Guise
Are now together.

_Fr._ Show us all their persons, 91
And represent the place, with all their actions.

_Beh._ The spirit will straight return; and then I’ll show thee.
See, he is come; why brought’st thou not the paper?

_Cartoph._ He hath prevented me, and got a spirit
Rais’d by another, great in our command, 96
To take the guard of it before I came.

_Beh._ This is your slackness, not t’ invoke our powers
When first your acts set forth to their effects;
Yet shall you see it and themselves. Behold
They come here, and the Earl now holds the paper. 101

_Enter_ Monsieur, GUISE, MONTSURRY, _with a paper_.

_Bu._ May we not hear them?

_Fr._ No, be still and see.

_Bu._ I will go fetch the paper.

_Fr._ Do not stir;
There’s too much distance and too many locks
’Twixt you and them, how near soe’er they seem,
For any man to interrupt their secrets. 106

_Ta._ O honour’d spirit, fly into the fancy
Of my offended lord, and do not let him
Believe what there the wicked man hath written.

_Beh._ Persuasion hath already enter’d him 110
Beyond reflection; peace till their departure!

_Mo._[1055] There is a glass of ink[1056] where you may see
How to make ready black-fac’d tragedy.
You now discern, I hope, through all her paintings,
Her gasping wrinkles, and fame’s sepulchres. 115

_Gu._ Think you he feigns, my lord? What hold you now?
Do we malign your wife, or honour you?

_Mo._ What, stricken dumb! Nay fie, lord, be not daunted;
Your case is common; were it ne’er so rare,
Bear it as rarely. Now to laugh were manly. 120
A worthy man should imitate the weather
That sings in tempests, and being clear is silent.

_Gu._ Go home, my lord, and force your wife to write
Such loving lines to D’Ambois as she us’d
When she desir’d his presence.

_Mo._ Do, my lord, 125
And make her name her conceal’d messenger,
That close and most inennerable[1057] pander,
That passeth all our studies to exquire;[1058]
By whom convey the letter to her love:
And so you shall be sure to have him come 130
Within the thirsty reach of your revenge;
Before which, lodge an ambush in her chamber
Behind the arrras, of your stoutest men
All close[1059] and soundly arm’d; and let them share
A spirit amongst them that would serve a thousand. 135

_Enter_ PERO _with a letter_.

_Gu._ Yet stay a little; see, she sends for you.

_Mo._ Poor, loving lady; she’ll make all good yet,
Think you not so, my lord?

MONTSURRY _stabs_ PERO _and exit_.

_Gu._ Alas, poor soul!

_Mo._ That was cruelly done, i’ faith.

_Pe._ ’T was nobly done.
And I forgive his lordship from my soul. 140

_Mo._ Then much good do’t thee, Pero! Hast a letter?

_Pe._ I hope it rather be a bitter volume
Of worthy curses for your perjury.

_Gu._ To you, my lord.

_Mo._ To me? Now, out upon her.

_Gu._ Let me see, my lord. 145

_Mo._ You shall presently. How fares my Pero?
_Enter_ Servant.
Who’s there? Take in this maid, sh’as caught a clap,
And fetch my surgeon to her. Come, my lord,
We’ll now peruse our letter.
_Exeunt_ Monsieur, GUISE. _Lead her out._

_Pe._ Furies rise
Out of the black lines, and torment his soul. 150

_Ta._ Hath my lord slain my woman?

_Beh._ No, she lives.

_Fr._ What shall become of us?

_Beh._ All I can say,
Being call’d thus late is brief, and darkly this:
If D’Ambois’ mistress dye not her[1060] white hand
In her forc’d blood, he shall remain untoucht:
So, father, shall yourself, but by yourself. 156
To make this augury plainer: when the voice
Of D’Ambois shall invoke me, I will rise,
Shining in greater light: and show him all
That will betide ye all. Meantime be wise,
And curb his valour with your policies. 161
_Descendit cum suis._

_Bu._ Will he appear to me when I invoke him?

_Fr._ He will, be sure.

_Bu._ It must be shortly then:
For his dark words have tied my thoughts on knots,
Till he dissolve, and free them.

_Ta._ In meantime, 165
Dear servant, till your powerful voice revoke[1061] him,
Be sure to use the policy he advis’d;
Lest fury in your too quick knowledge taken
Of our abuse, and your defence of me,
Accuse me more than any enemy; 170
And, father, you must on my lord impose
Your holiest charges, and the Church’s power
To temper his hot spirit and disperse
The cruelty and the blood I know his hand
Will shower upon our heads, if you put not 175
Your finger to the storm, and hold it up,
As my dear servant here must do with Monsieur.

_Bu._ I ’ll soothe his plots, and strow my hate with smiles,
Till all at once the close mines of my heart
Rise at full date, and rush into his blood. 180
I ’ll bind his arm in silk, and rub his flesh,
To make the vein swell, that his soul may gush
Into some kennel, where it longs to lie,
And policy shall be flankt[1062] with policy.
Yet shall the feeling centre where we meet 185
Groan with the weight of my approaching feet;
I ’ll make th’ inspired thresholds of his court
Sweat with the weather of my horrid steps,
Before I enter; yet will I appear
Like calm security before a ruin. 190
A politician must, like lightning, melt
The very marrow, and not taint the skin:
His ways must not be seen; the superficies
Of the green centre[1063] must not taste his feet,
When hell is plow’d up with his wounding tracts;
And all his harvest reapt by hellish facts. 196
_Exeunt._