Act 3 — [Scene II.][987]

He. Speak home, my Bussy; thy impartial words Are like brave falcons that dare truss[988] a fowl Much greater than themselves; flatterers are kites That check at[989] sparrows; thou shalt be my eagle, And bear my thunder underneath thy wings; Truth’s words like jewels hang in th’ ears of kings.6 Bu. Would I might live to see no Jews hang there Instead of jewels; sycophants, I mean, Who use truth like the devil, his true foe, Cast by the angel to the pit of fears,10 And bound in chains; truth seldom decks kings’ ears. Slave Flattery (like a rippier’s[990] legs roll’d up In boots of hay ropes) with kings’ soothed guts Swaddl’d and strappl’d,[991] now lives only free. Oh, ’tis a subtle knave; how like the plague15 Unfelt he strikes into the brain of man, And rageth in his entrails, when he can, Worse than the poison of a red-hair’d man![992] He. Fly at him and his brood; I cast thee off, And once more give thee surname of mine eagle.20 Bu. I’ll make you sport enough, then; let me have My lucerns[993] too, or dogs inur’d to hunt Beasts of most rapine, but to put them up,[994] And if I truss not, let me not be trusted. Show me a great man by the people’s voice,25 Which is the voice of God that by his greatness Bombasts[995] his private roofs with public riches; That affects royalty, rising from a clapdish;[996] That rules so much more by[997] his suffering king, That he makes kings of his subordinate slaves:30 Himself and them graduate like woodmongers, Piling a stack of billets from the earth, Raising each other into steeples’ heights; Let him convey this on the turning props Of Protean law, and, his own counsel keeping, Keep all upright; let me but hawk at him, 35 I’ll play the vulture, and so thump his liver, That, like a huge unlading Argosy, He shall confess all, and you then may hang him. Show me a clergyman, that is in voice40 A lark of heaven, in heart a mole of earth; That hath good living, and a wicked life; A temperate look, and a luxurious gut; Turning the rents of his superfluous cures Into your pheasants and your partridges;45 Venting their quintessence as men read Hebrew;[998] Let me but hawk at him, and, like the other, He shall confess all, and you then may hang him. Show me a lawyer that turns sacred law (The equal rend’rer of each man his own,50 The scourge of rapine and extortion, The sanctuary and impregnable defence Of retir’d learning and besieged virtue) Into a harpy, that eats all but’s own, Into the damned sins it punisheth;55 Into the synagogue of thieves and atheists, Blood into gold, and justice into lust; Let me but hawk at him, as at the rest, He shall confess all, and you then may hang him.

Gu. Where will you find such game as you would hawk at?60 Bu. I’ll hawk about your house for one of them. Gu. Come, y’ are a glorious[999] ruffian, and run proud Of the King’s headlong graces. Hold your breath, Or, by that poison’d vapour, not the King Shall back your murderous valour against me. Bu. I would the King would make his presence free66 But for one bout betwixt us: by the reverence Due to the sacred space ’twixt kings and subjects, Here would I make thee cast that popular purple, In which thy proud soul sits and braves thy sovereign.70 Mo. Peace, peace, I pray thee peace. Bu. Let him peace first That made the first war. Mo. He’s the better man. Bu. And therefore may do worst? Mo. He has more titles. Bu. So Hydra had more heads. Mo. He’s greater known. Bu. His greatness is the people’s; mine’s mine own.75 Mo. He’s nobler[1000] born. Bu. He is not, I am noble; And noblesse in his blood hath no gradation, But in his merit. Gu. Th’ art not nobly born, But bastard to the Cardinal of Ambois. Bu. Thou liest, proud Guiserd. Let me fly, my lord.80 He. Not in my face, my eagle; violence flies The sanctuaries of a prince’s eyes. Bu. Still shall we chide and foam upon this bit? Is the Guise only great in faction? Stands he not by himself? Proves he th’ opinion85 That men’s souls are without them? Be a duke, And lead me to the field. Gu. Come, follow me. He. Stay them! Stay, D’Ambois. Cousin Guise, I wonder Your honour’d disposition brooks so ill A man so good, that only would uphold90 Man in his native noblesse, from whose fall All our dimensions rise; that in himself (Without the outward patches of our frailty, Riches and honour) knows he comprehends Worth with the greatest. Kings had never borne95 Such boundless empire over other men, Had all maintain’d the spirit and state of D’Ambois; Nor had the full impartial hand of nature That all things gave in her original[1001]99 Without these definite terms of mine and thine, Been turn’d unjustly to the hand of Fortune, Had all preserv’d her in her prime, like D’Ambois. No envy, no disjunction had dissolv’d, Or pluck’d one stick out of the golden faggot In which the world of Saturn[1002] bound our lives, Had all been held together with the nerves,106 The genius, and th’ ingenious[1003] soul of D’Ambois. Let my hand therefore be the Hermean rod[1004] To part and reconcile, and so conserve you, As my combin’d embracers and supporters.110 Bu. ’Tis our king’s motion, and we shall not seem To worst eyes womanish, though we change thus soon Never so great grudge for his greater pleasure. Gu. I seal to that; and, so the manly freedom That you so much profess, hereafter prove not115 A bold and glorious license to deprave,[1005] To me his hand shall hold the Hermean virtue His grace affects, in which submissive sign On this his sacred right hand I lay mine. Bu. ’Tis well, my lord, and so your worthy greatness120 Decline not to the greater insolence, Nor make you think it a prerogative To rack men’s freedoms with the ruder wrongs; My hand (stuck full of laurel, in true sign ’Tis wholly dedicate to righteous peace)125 In all submission kisseth th’ other side. He. Thanks to ye both; and kindly I invite ye Both to a banquet, where we’ll sacrifice Full cups to confirmation of your loves;129 At which, fair ladies, I entreat your presence; And hope you, madam, will take one carouse For reconcilement of your lord and servant. Du. If I should fail, my lord, some other lady Would be found there to do that for my servant. Mo. Any of these here? Du. Nay, I know not that. Bu. Think your thoughts like my mistress’, honour’d lady?135 Ta. I think not on you, sir; y’ are one I know not. Bu. Cry you mercy, madam. Mont. Oh, sir, has she met you? Exeunt Henry, D’Ambois, Ladies. Mo. What had my bounty drunk when it rais’d him? Gu. Y’ave stuck us up a very worthy flag,140 That takes more wind than we with all our sails. Mo. Oh, so he spreads and flourishes. Gu. He must down; Upstarts should never perch too near a crown. Mo. ’Tis true, my lord; and as this doting hand,144 Even out of earth, like Juno, struck this giant, So Jove’s great ordinance shall be here impli’d To strike him under th’ Etna of his pride; To which work lend your hands, and let us cast[1006] Where we may set snares for his ranging greatness.149 I think it best, amongst our greatest women; For there is no such trap to catch an upstart As a loose downfall; for you know their falls Are th’ ends of all men’s rising. If great men And wise make scapes[1007] to please advantage[1008] ’Tis with a woman: women that worst may155 Still hold men’s candles;[1009] they direct and know All things amiss in all men; and their women[1010] All things amiss in them; through whose charm’d mouths, We may see all the close scapes[1011] of the Court. When the most royal beast of chase, the hart, (Being old and cunning in his lairs and haunts) Can never be discovered to the bow,162 The piece,[1012] or hound; yet where, behind some quitch,[1013] He breaks his gall, and rutteth with his hind, The place is markt, and by his venery165 He still is taken. Shall we then attempt The chiefest mean to that discovery here, And court our greatest ladies’ chiefest women With shows of love and liberal promises?169 ’Tis but our breath. If something given in hand Sharpens their hopes of more, ’t will be well ventur’d. Gu. No doubt of that; and ’tis the cunning’st point Of your devis’d investigation. Mo. I have broken The ice to it already with the woman Of your chaste lady, and conceive good hope175 I shall wade thorough to some wished shore At our next meeting. Mont. Nay, there’s small hope there. Gu. Take say[1014] of her, my lord, she comes most fitly. Mo. Starting back?

Pe. You shall, my lord. What’s that, that being most rare’s most cheap? That when you sow, you never reap? 275 That when it grows most, most you thin[1024] it? And still you lose it when you win it; That when ’tis commonest, ’tis dearest, And when ’tis farthest off, ’tis nearest?

Mo. Oh, the unsounded sea of women’s bloods, That when ’tis calmest, is most dangerous; Not any wrinkle creaming in their faces When in their hearts are Scylla and Charybdis, Which still are hid in dark and standing fogs,325 Where never day shines, nothing never grows But weeds and poisons, that no statesman knows, Nor Cerberus ever saw the damned nooks Hid with the veils of women’s virtuous looks. [1025]But what a cloud of sulphur have I drawn330 Up to my bosom in this dangerous secret! Which if my haste with any spark should light, Ere D’Ambois were engag’d in some sure plot, I were blown up; he would be sure my death. Would I had never known it, for before335 I shall persuade th’ importance to Montsurry, And make him with some studied stratagem Train D’Ambois to his wreak, his maid may tell it, Or I (out of my fiery thirst to play With the fell tiger, up in darkness tied,340 And give it some light) make it quite break loose. I fear it, afore heaven, and will not see D’Ambois again, till I have told Montsurry And set a snare with him to free my fears: Who’s there?

Ma. My lord? Mo. Go call the Count Montsurry, And make the doors fast; I will speak with none346 Till he come to me. Ma. Well, my lord. Exiturus. Mo. Or else Send you some other, and see all the doors Made safe yourself, I pray; haste, fly about it. Ma. You’ll speak with none but with the Count Montsurry?351 Mo. With none but he, except it be the Guise. Ma. See even by this, there’s one exception more! Your grace must be more firm in the command, Or else shall I as weakly execute.355 The Guise shall speak with you? Mo. He shall, I say. Ma. And Count Montsurry? Mo. Ay, and Count Montsurry. Ma. Your grace must pardon me, that I am bold To urge the clear and full sense of your pleasure; Which whensoever I have known, I hope360 Your grace will say, I hit it to a hair. Mo. You have. Ma. I hope so, or I would be glad— Mo. I pray thee get thee gone, thou art so tedious In the strict form of all thy services That I had better have one negligent.365 You hit my pleasure well, when D’Ambois hit you; Did you not, think you? Ma. D’Ambois? Why, my lord— Mo. I pray thee talk no more, but shut the doors: Do what I charge thee. Ma. I will, my lord, and yet I would be glad the wrong I had of D’Ambois— Mo. Precious! then it is a fate that plagues me371 In this man’s foolery; I may be murdered While he stands on protection of his folly. Avaunt about thy charge. Ma. I go, my lord.— I had my head broke in his faithful service;375 I had no suit the more, nor any thanks, And yet my teeth must still be hit with D’Ambois: D’Ambois, my lord, shall know— Mo. The devil and D’Ambois! Exit Maffe. How am I tortur’d with this trusty fool! Never was any curious in his place380 To do things justly, but he was an ass; We cannot find one trusty that is witty,[1026] And therefore bear their disproportion. Grant thou, great star and angel of my life, A sure lease of it but for some few days,385 That I may clear my bosom of the snake I cherisht there, and I will then defy All check to it but Nature’s, and her altars Shall crack with vessels crown’d with every liquor Drawn from her highest and most bloody humours.390 I fear him strangely, his advanced valour Is like a spirit rais’d without a circle, Endangering him that ignorantly rais’d him, And for whose fury he hath learnt no limit.

Ma. I cannot help it: what should I do more?395 As I was gathering a fit guard to make My passage to the doors, and the doors sure, The man of blood is enter’d. Mo. Rage of death! If I had told the secret, and he knew it, Thus had I been endanger’d. Enter D’Ambois. My sweet heart! How now, what leap’st thou at? Bu. O royal object! Mo. Thou dream’st, awake; object in th’ empty air?402 Bu. Worthy the brows of Titan, worth his chair. Mo. Pray thee, what mean’st thou? Bu. See you not a crown Impale the forehead of the great King Monsieur?405 Mo. Oh, fie upon thee! Bu. Prince, that is the subject Of all these your retir’d and sole discourses. Mo. Wilt thou not leave that wrongful supposition? Bu. Why wrongful, to suppose the doubtless right To the succession worth the thinking on?410 Mo. Well, leave these jests. How I am overjoyed With thy wish’d presence, and how fit thou com’st, For of mine honour I was sending for thee. Bu. To what end? Mo. Only for thy company, Which I have still in thought; but that’s no payment415 On thy part made with personal appearance. Thy absence so long suffered, oftentimes Put me in some little doubt thou dost not love me. Wilt thou do one thing therefore now sincerely? Bu. Ay, anything, but killing of the King. Mo. Still in that discord, and ill-taken note? How most unseasonable thou play’st the cuckoo,422 In this thy fall of friendship! Bu. Then do not doubt, That there is any act within my nerves But killing of the King, that is not yours.425 Mo. I will not, then; to prove which by my love Shown to thy virtues, and by all fruits else Already sprung from that still-flourishing tree, With whatsoever may hereafter spring, I charge thee utter (even with all the freedom Both of thy noble nature and thy friendship)431 The full and plain state of me in thy thoughts. Bu. What, utter plainly what I think of you? Mo. Plain as truth. Bu. Why, this swims quite against the stream of greatness;435 Great men would rather hear their flatteries, And if they be not made fools, are not wise. Mo. I am no such great fool, and therefore charge thee Even from the root of thy free heart, display me. Bu. Since you affect[1027] it in such serious terms, If yourself first will tell me what you think441 As freely and as heartily of me, I’ll be as open in my thoughts of you. Mo. A bargain, of mine honour; and make this, That prove we in our full dissection445 Never so foul, live still the sounder friends. Bu. What else, sir? Come, pay me home; I’ll bide it bravely. Mo. I will swear. I think thee then a man That dares as much as a wild horse or tiger; As headstrong and as bloody; and to feed450 The ravenous wolf of thy most cannibal valour, (Rather than not employ it) thou wouldst turn Hackster[1028] to any whore, slave to a Jew Or English usurer, to force possessions (And cut men’s throats) of mortgaged estates; Or thou wouldst ’tire thee like a tinker’s strumpet,456 And murder market-folks, quarrel with sheep, And run as mad as Ajax; serve a butcher, Do anything but killing of the King; That in thy valour th’art like other naturals[1029] That have strange gifts in nature, but no soul461 Diffus’d quite through, to make them of a piece, But stop at humours that are more absurd, Childish and villanous than that hackster, whore, Slave, cut-throat, tinker’s bitch, compar’d before;465 And in those humours wouldst envy, betray, Slander, blaspheme, change each hour a religion; Do anything but killing of the King: That in thy valour (which is still the dung-hill, To which hath reference all filth in thy house) Th’art more ridiculous and vain-glorious471 Than any mountebank, and impudent Than any painted bawd; which, not to soothe And glorify thee like a Jupiter Hammon, Thou eat’st thy heart in vinegar; and thy gall Turns all thy blood to poison, which is cause476 Of that toad-pool that stands in thy complexion, And makes thee with a cold and earthy moisture, (Which is the dam of putrefaction) As plague to thy damn’d pride, rot as thou liv’st;480 To study calumnies and treacheries; To thy friends’ slaughters like a screech-owl sing, And do all mischiefs—but to kill the King. Bu. So! have you said? Mo. How think’st thou? Do I flatter? Speak I not like a trusty friend to thee?485 Bu. That ever any man was blest withal. So here’s for me. I think you are (at worst) No devil, since y’are like to be no king; Of which, with any friend of yours, I’ll lay This poor stillado[1030] here, ’gainst all the stars, Ay, and ’gainst all your treacheries, which are more;491 That you did never good, but to do ill; But ill of all sorts, free and for itself: That (like a murdering piece, making lanes in armies, The first man of a rank, the whole rank falling) If you have wrong’d one man, you are so far495 From making him amends that all his race, Friends, and associates, fall into your chase: That y’are for perjuries the very prince Of all intelligencers;[1031] and your voice500 Is like an eastern wind, that where it flies Knits nets of caterpillars, with which you catch The prime of all the fruits the kingdom yields. That your political head is the curst fount Of all the violence, rapine, cruelty,505 Tyranny, and atheism flowing through the realm. That y’ave a tongue so scandalous, ’t will cut The purest crystal; and a breath that will Kill to[1032] that wall a spider. You will jest With God, and your soul to the devil tender510 For lust; kiss horror, and with death engender. That your foul body is a Lernean fen Of all the maladies breeding in all men; That you are utterly without a soul;514 And, for your life, the thread of that was spun When Clotho slept, and let her breathing rock[1033] Fall in the dirt; and Lachesis still draws it, Dipping her twisting fingers in a bowl Defil’d, and crown’d with virtue’s forced soul. And lastly (which I must for gratitude520 Ever remember) that of all my height And dearest life, you are the only spring, Only in royal hope to kill the king. Mo. Why, now I see thou lov’st me. Come to the banquet. Exeunt.