Act 2 — Scene I.[939]

He. This desperate quarrel sprung out of their envies To D’Ambois’ sudden bravery,[940] and great spirit. Gu. Neither is worth their envy. He. Less than either Will make the gall of envy overflow. She feeds on outcast entrails like a kite;5 In which foul heap, if any ill lies hid, She sticks her beak into it, shakes it up, And hurls it all abroad, that all may view it. Corruption is her nutriment; but touch her With any precious ointment, and you kill her. Where she finds any filth in men, she feasts,11 And with her black throat bruits it through the world (Being sound and healthful). But if she but taste The slenderest pittance of commended virtue, She surfeits on it, and is like a fly15 That passes all the body’s soundest parts, And dwells upon the gores; or if her squint eye Have power to find none there, she forges some. She makes that crooked ever which is straight; Calls valour giddiness, justice tyranny;20 A wise man may shun her, she not herself; Whithersoever she flies from her harms, She bears her foes still claspt in her own arms: And therefore, Cousin Guise, let us avoid her.

Nu. What Atlas or Olympus lifts his head25 So far past covert, that with air enough My words may be inform’d, and from their height I may be seen, and heard through all the world? A tale so worthy, and so fraught with wonder Sticks in my jaws, and labours with event.30 He. Comest thou from D’Ambois? Nu. From him, and the rest, His friends and enemies; whose stern fight I saw, And heard their words before and in the fray. He. Relate at large what thou hast seen and heard. Nu. I saw fierce D’Ambois and his two brave friends35 Enter the field, and at their heels their foes; Which were the famous soldiers, Barrisor, L’Anou, and Pyrrhot, great in deeds of arms: All which arriv’d at the evenest piece of earth The field afforded, the three challengers40 Turn’d head, drew all their rapiers, and stood rankt: When face to face the three defendants met them, Alike prepar’d, and resolute alike. Like bonfires of contributory wood Every man’s look show’d, fed with either’s spirit;45 As one had been a mirror to another, Like forms of life and death, each took from other; And so were life and death mixt at their heights, That you could see no fear of death, for life, Nor love of life, for death; but in their brows50 Pyrrho’s opinion in great letters shone: That life and death in all respects are one. He. Past there no sort of words at their encounter? Nu. As Hector, ’twixt the hosts of Greece and Troy,54 (When Paris and the Spartan king should end The nine years’ war) held up his brazen lance For signal that both hosts should cease from arms, And hear him speak: so Barrisor advis’d,[941] Advanc’d his naked rapier ’twixt both sides, Ript[942] up the quarrel, and compar’d six lives60 Then laid in balance with six idle words; Offer’d remission and contrition too; Or else that he and D’Ambois might conclude The others’ dangers. D’Ambois lik’d the last; But Barrisor’s friends (being equally engag’d65 In the main quarrel) never would expose His life alone to that they all deserv’d. And, for the other offer of remission, D’Ambois (that like a laurel put in fire Sparkl’d and spit) did much more than scorn70 That his wrong should incense him so like chaff To go so soon out; and like lighted paper Approve his spirit at once both fire and ashes. So drew they lots and in them fates appointed That Barrisor should fight with fiery D’Ambois;75 Pyrrhot with Melynell; with Brisac L’Anou: And then like flame and powder they commixt, So spritely, that I wisht they had been spirits, That the ne’er-shutting wounds, they needs must open, Might as they open’d shut, and never kill.80 But D’Ambois’ sword (that light’ned as it flew) Shot like a pointed comet at the face Of manly Barrisor; and there it stuck. Thrice pluckt he[943] at it, and thrice drew on thrusts, From him[944] that of himself was free as fire:85 Who[944] thrust still as he[943] pluckt, yet (past belief) He[943] with his subtle eye, hand, body, scapt. At last, the deadly hitten point tugg’d off, On fell his yet undaunted foe so fiercely That (only made more horrid with his wound)90 Great D’Ambois shrunk, and gave a little ground; But soon return’d, redoubled[945] in his danger, And at the heart of Barrisor seal’d his anger. Then, as in Arden I have seen an oak Long shook with tempests, and his lofty top95 Bent to his root, which being at length made loose Even groaning with his weight) he ’gan to nod This way and that, as loth his curled brows (Which he had oft wrapt in the sky with storms)99 Should stoop: and yet, his radical fibres burst, Storm-like he fell, and hid the fear-cold earth; So fell stout Barrisor, that had stood the shocks Of ten set battles in your highness’ war, ’Gainst the sole soldier of the world, Navarre. Gu. Oh, piteous and horrid murder! [Mont.] Such a life Methinks had metal in it to survive105 An age of men. He. Such often soonest end. Thy felt report calls on, we long to know On what events the other have arriv’d. Nu. Sorrow and fury, like two opposite fumes Met in the upper region of a cloud,111 At the report made by this worthy’s fall, Brake from the earth, and with them rose Revenge, Ent’ring with fresh powers his two noble friends; And under that odds fell surcharged[946] Brisac,115 The friend of D’Ambois, before fierce L’Anou; Which D’Ambois seeing, as I once did see, In my young travels through Armenia, An angry unicorn in his full career Charge with too swift a foot a jeweller120 That watcht him for the treasure of his brow,[947] And, ere he could get shelter of a tree, Nail him with his rich antler to the earth; So D’Ambois ran upon reveng’d L’Anou, Who eying th’ eager point borne in his face,125 And giving back, fell back, and in his fall His foe’s uncurbed sword stopt in his heart; By which time all the life-strings of the tw’ other Were cut, and both fell as their spirits flew Upwards; and still hunt honour at the view:130 And now, of all the six, sole D’Ambois stood Untoucht, save only with the others’ blood. He. All slain outright? Nu. All slain outright but he, Who kneeling in the warm life of his friends, (All freckled with the blood his rapier rain’d)135 He kist their pale cheeks, and bade both farewell; And see the bravest man the French earth bears! [Exit Nuntius.]

Bu. Now is the time; y’are princely vow’d my friend; Perform it princely, and obtain my pardon. Mo. Else heaven forgive not me! Come on, brave friend!—140 If ever nature held herself her own, When the great trial of a king and subject Met in one blood, both from one belly springing; Now prove her virtue and her greatness one, Or make the t’ one the greater with t’ other,145 (As true kings should) and for your brother’s love, (Which is a special species of true virtue) Do that you could not do, not being a king. He. Brother, I know your suit; these wilful murders Are ever past our pardon. Mo. Manly slaughter150 Should never bear th’ account of wilful murder; It being a spice[949] of justice, where with life Offending past law,[950] equal life is laid In equal balance, to scourge that offence By law of reputation, which to men155 Exceeds all positive law, and what that[951] leaves To true men’s valours (not prefixing rights Of satisfaction, suited to their wrongs) A free man’s eminence may supply and take. He. This would make every man that thinks him wrong’d160 Or is offended, or in wrong or right, Lay on this violence, and all vaunt themselves Law-menders and suppliers,[952] though mere butchers; Should this fact[953] (though of justice[954]) be forgiven? Mo. Oh, no, my lord; it would make cowards fear165 To touch the reputatious of true men When only they are left to imp[955] the law. Justice will soon distinguish murderous minds From just revengers. Had my friend been slain, (His enemy surviving) he should die,170 Since he had added to a murder’d fame (Which was in his intent) a murdered man, And this had worthily been wilful murder; But my friend only sav’d his fame’s dear life, Which is above life, taking th’ under value,175 Which in the wrong it did, was forfeit to him; And in this fact only preserves a man In his uprightness; worthy to survive Millions of such as murder men alive. He. Well, brother, rise, and raise your friend withal180 From death to life; and D’Ambois, let your life (Refin’d, by passing through this merited death) Be purg’d from more such foul pollution; Nor on your scape nor valour more presuming To be again so daring. Bu. My lord,185 I loathe as much a deed of unjust death As law itself doth; and to tyrannize, Because I have a little spirit to dare And power to do, as to be tyranniz’d. This is a grace that (on my knees redoubled[956]), I crave to double this, my short life’s gift;191 And shall your royal bounty centuple, That I may so make good what Law and nature Have given me for my good; since I am free, (Offending no just law), let no law make195 By any wrong it does, my life her slave: When I am wrong’d, and that law fails to right me, Let me be king myself (as man was made), And do a justice that exceeds the law; If my wrong pass the power of single valour200 To right and expiate, then be you my king, And do a right, exceeding law and nature. Who to himself is law, no law doth need, Offends no law, and is a king indeed. He. Enjoy what thou entreat’st; we give but ours.205 Bu. What you have given, my lord, is ever yours. Exit Rex cum [Montsurry.] Gu. Mort dieu! who would have pardon’d such a murder? Exit. Mo. Now vanish horrors into Court attractions, For which let this balm make thee fresh and fair. And now forth with thy service to the duchess,210 As my long love will to Montsurry’s countess. Exit. Bu. To whom my love hath long been vow’d in heart, Although in hand for show I held the duchess. And now through blood and vengeance, deeds of height And hard to be achiev’d, ’tis fit I make215 Attempt of her perfection. I need fear No check in his rivality,[957] since her virtues Are so renown’d, and he of all dames hated. Exit.