Part 15

_Mail._ Let him come at his will, and goe as free; Let us ply Clermont, our whole charge is hee. _Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

_Trumpets within. Drums beate._ In Q these directions follow instead of precede l. 59.

_Exeunt._ Q, Exit.

[SCÆNA SECUNDA.

_A Room in the Governor's Castle at Cambrai._]

_Enter a Gentleman Usher before Clermont: Renel, Charlotte, with two women attendants, with others: showes having past within._

_Charlotte._ This for your lordships welcome into Cambray.

_Renel._ Noblest of ladies, tis beyond all power (Were my estate at first full) in my meanes To quit or merit.

_Clermont._ You come something latter From Court, my lord, then I: and since newes there 5 Is every day encreasing with th'affaires, Must I not aske now, what the newes is there? Where the Court lyes? what stirre? change? what avise From England, Italie?

_Ren._ You must doe so, If you'll be cald a gentleman well quallified, 10 And weare your time and wits in those discourses.

_Cler._ The Locrian princes therefore were brave rulers; For whosoever there came new from countrie, And in the citie askt, "What newes?" was punisht: Since commonly such braines are most delighted 15 With innovations, gossips tales, and mischiefes. But as of lyons it is said and eagles, That, when they goe, they draw their seeres and tallons Close up, to shunne rebating of their sharpnesse: So our wits sharpnesse, which wee should employ 20 In noblest knowledge, wee should never waste In vile and vulgar admirations.

_Ren._ Tis right; but who, save onely you, performes it, And your great brother? Madame, where is he?

_Char._ Gone, a day since, into the countries confines, 25 To see their strength, and readinesse for service.

_Ren._ Tis well; his favour with the King hath made him Most worthily great, and live right royally.

_Cler._ I: would hee would not doe so! Honour never Should be esteem'd with wise men as the price 30 And value of their virtuous services, But as their signe or badge; for that bewrayes More glory in the outward grace of goodnesse Then in the good it selfe; and then tis said, Who more joy takes that men his good advance 35 Then in the good it selfe, does it by chance.

_Char._ My brother speakes all principle. What man Is mov'd with your soule? or hath such a thought In any rate of goodnesse?

_Cler._ Tis their fault. We have examples of it, cleare and many. 40 Demetrius Phalerius, an orator, And (which not oft meete) a philosopher, So great in Athens grew that he erected Three hundred statues of him; of all which, No rust nor length of time corrupted one; 45 But in his life time all were overthrowne. And Demades (that past Demosthenes For all extemporall orations) Erected many statues, which (he living) Were broke, and melted into chamber-pots. 50 Many such ends have fallen on such proud honours, No more because the men on whom they fell Grew insolent and left their vertues state, Then for their hugenesse, that procur'd their hate: And therefore little pompe in men most great 55 Makes mightily and strongly to the guard Of what they winne by chance or just reward. Great and immodest braveries againe, Like statues much too high made for their bases, Are overturn'd as soone as given their places. 60

_Enter a Messenger with a Letter._

_Messenger._ Here is a letter, sir, deliver'd mee Now at the fore-gate by a gentleman.

_Cler._ What gentleman?

_Mess._ Hee would not tell his name; Hee said, hee had not time enough to tell it, And say the little rest hee had to say. 65

_Cler._ That was a merry saying; he tooke measure Of his deare time like a most thriftie husband.

_Char._ What newes?

_Cler._ Strange ones, and fit for a novation; Waightie, unheard of, mischievous enough.

_Ren._ Heaven shield! what are they?

_Cler._ Read them, good my lord. 70

_Ren._ "You are betraid into this countrie." Monstrous!

_Char._ How's that?

_Cler._ Read on.

_Ren._ "Maillard, your brothers Lieutenant, that yesterday invited you to see his musters, 75 hath letters and strickt charge from the King to apprehend you."

_Char._ To apprehend him!

_Ren._ "Your brother absents himselfe of purpose." 80

_Cler._ That's a sound one.

_Char._ That's a lye.

_Ren._ "Get on your Scotch horse, and retire to your strength; you know where it is, and there it expects you. Beleeve this as your best 85 friend had sworne it. Fare-well if you will. Anonymos." What's that?

_Cler._ Without a name.

_Char._ And all his notice, too, without all truth.

_Cler._ So I conceive it, sister: ile not wrong 90 My well knowne brother for Anonymos.

_Char._ Some foole hath put this tricke on you, yet more T'uncover your defect of spirit and valour, First showne in lingring my deare brothers wreake. See what it is to give the envious world 95 Advantage to diminish eminent virtue. Send him a challenge. Take a noble course To wreake a murther, done so like a villaine.

_Cler._ Shall we revenge a villanie with villanie.

_Char._ Is it not equall?

_Cler._ Shall wee equall be with villaines? 100 Is that your reason?

_Char._ Cowardise evermore Flyes to the shield of reason.

_Cler._ Nought that is Approv'd by reason can be cowardise.

_Char._ Dispute, when you should fight! Wrong, wreaklesse sleeping, Makes men dye honorlesse; one borne, another 105 Leapes on our shoulders.

_Cler._ Wee must wreake our wrongs So as wee take not more.

_Char._ One wreakt in time Prevents all other. Then shines vertue most When time is found for facts; and found, not lost.

_Cler._ No time occurres to Kings, much lesse to vertue; 110 Nor can we call it vertue that proceedes From vicious fury. I repent that ever (By any instigation in th'appearance My brothers spirit made, as I imagin'd) That e'er I yeelded to revenge his murther. 115 All worthy men should ever bring their bloud To beare all ill, not to be wreakt with good. Doe ill for no ill; never private cause Should take on it the part of publike lawes.

_Char._ A D'Ambois beare in wrong so tame a spirit! 120

_Ren._ Madame, be sure there will be time enough For all the vengeance your great spirit can wish. The course yet taken is allow'd by all, Which being noble, and refus'd by th'Earle, Now makes him worthy of your worst advantage: 125 And I have cast a project with the Countesse To watch a time when all his wariest guards Shall not exempt him. Therefore give him breath; Sure death delaid is a redoubled death.

_Cler._ Good sister, trouble not your selfe with this: 130 Take other ladyes care; practise your face. There's the chaste matron, Madame Perigot, Dwels not farre hence; Ile ride and send her to you. Shee did live by retailing mayden-heads In her minoritie; but now shee deales 135 In whole-sale altogether for the Court. I tell you, shee's the onely fashion-monger, For your complexion, poudring of your haire, Shadowes, rebatoes, wires, tyres, and such trickes, That Cambray or, I thinke, the Court affords. 140 She shall attend you, sister, and with these Womanly practises emply your spirit; This other suites you not, nor fits the fashion. Though shee be deare, lay't on, spare for no cost; Ladies in these have all their bounties lost. 145

_Ren._ Madame, you see, his spirit will not checke At any single danger, when it stands Thus merrily firme against an host of men, Threaten'd to be [in] armes for his surprise.

_Char._ That's a meere bugge-beare, an impossible mocke. 150 If hee, and him I bound by nuptiall faith, Had not beene dull and drossie in performing Wreake of the deare bloud of my matchlesse brother, What Prince, what King, which of the desperat'st ruffings, Outlawes in Arden, durst have tempted thus 155 One of our bloud and name, be't true or false?

_Cler._ This is not caus'd by that; twill be as sure As yet it is not, though this should be true.

_Char._ True, tis past thought false.

_Cler._ I suppose the worst, Which farre I am from thinking; and despise 160 The armie now in battaile that should act it.

[_Char._] I would not let my bloud up to that thought, But it should cost the dearest bloud in France.

_Cler._ Sweet sister, (_osculatur_) farre be both off as the fact Of my fain'd apprehension.

_Char._ I would once 165 Strip off my shame with my attire, and trie If a poore woman, votist of revenge, Would not performe it with a president To all you bungling, foggy-spirited men. But for our birth-rights honour, doe not mention 170 One syllable of any word may goe To the begetting of an act so tender And full of sulphure as this letters truth: It comprehends so blacke a circumstance Not to be nam'd, that but to forme one thought, 175 It is or can be so, would make me mad. Come, my lord, you and I will fight this dreame Out at the chesse.

_Ren._ Most gladly, worthiest ladie. _Exeunt Char[lotte] and Ren[el]._

_Enter a Messenger._

_Messenger._ Sir, my Lord Governours Lieutenant prayes Accesse to you.

_Cler._ Himselfe alone?

_Mess._ Alone, sir. 180

_Cler._ Attend him in. (_Exit Messenger._) Now comes this plot to tryall; I shall descerne (if it be true as rare) Some sparkes will flye from his dissembling eyes. Ile sound his depth.

_Enter Maillard with the Messenger._

_Maillard._ Honour, and all things noble!

_Cler._ As much to you, good Captaine. What's th'affaire? 185

_Mail._ Sir, the poore honour we can adde to all Your studyed welcome to this martiall place, In presentation of what strength consists My lord your brothers government, is readie. I have made all his troopes and companies 190 Advance and put themselves in battailia, That you may see both how well arm'd they are How strong is every troope and companie, How ready, and how well prepar'd for service.

_Cler._ And must they take mee?

_Mail._ Take you, sir! O heaven! 195

_Mess._ [_aside, to Clermont_]. Beleeve it, sir, his count'nance chang'd in turning.

_Mail._ What doe you meane, sir?

_Cler._ If you have charg'd them, You being charg'd your selfe, to apprehend mee, Turne not your face; throw not your lookes about so.

_Mail._ Pardon me, sir. You amaze me to conceive 200 From whence our wils to honour you should turne To such dishonour of my lord, your brother. Dare I, without him, undertake your taking?

_Cler._ Why not? by your direct charge from the King.

_Mail._ By my charge from the King! would he so much 205 Disgrace my lord, his owne Lieutenant here, To give me his command without his forfaite?

_Cler._ Acts that are done by Kings, are not askt why. Ile not dispute the case, but I will search you.

_Mail._ Search mee! for what?

_Cler._ For letters.

_Mail._ I beseech you, 210 Doe not admit one thought of such a shame To a commander.

_Cler._ Goe to! I must doo't. Stand and be searcht; you know mee.

_Mail._ You forget What tis to be a captaine, and your selfe.

_Cler._ Stand, or I vow to heaven, Ile make you lie, 215 Never to rise more.

_Mail._ If a man be mad, Reason must beare him.

_Cler._ So coy to be searcht?

_Mail._ Sdeath, sir, use a captaine like a carrier!

_Cler._ Come, be not furious; when I have done, You shall make such a carrier of me, 220 If't be your pleasure: you're my friend, I know, And so am bold with you.

_Mail._ You'll nothing finde Where nothing is.

_Cler._ Sweare you have nothing.

_Mail._ Nothing you seeke, I sweare. I beseech you, Know I desir'd this out of great affection, 225 To th'end my lord may know out of your witnesse His forces are not in so bad estate As hee esteem'd them lately in your hearing; For which he would not trust me with the confines, But went himselfe to witnesse their estate. 230

_Cler._ I heard him make that reason, and am sorie I had no thought of it before I made Thus bold with you, since tis such ruberb to you. Ile therefore search no more. If you are charg'd (By letters from the King, or otherwise) 235 To apprehend me, never spice it more With forc'd tearmes of your love, but say: I yeeld; Holde, take my sword, here; I forgive thee freely; Take; doe thine office.

_Mail._ Sfoote! you make m'a hang-man; By all my faith to you, there's no such thing. 240

_Cler._ Your faith to mee!

_Mail._ My faith to God; all's one: Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none.

_Cler._ In that sense I accept your othe, and thanke you. I gave my word to goe, and I will goe. _Exit Cler[mont]._

_Mail._ Ile watch you whither. _Exit Mail[lard]._

_Mess._ If hee goes, hee proves 245 How vaine are mens fore knowledges of things, When heaven strikes blinde their powers of note and use, And makes their way to ruine seeme more right Then that which safetie opens to their sight. Cassandra's prophecie had no more profit 250 With Troyes blinde citizens, when shee foretolde Troyes ruine; which, succeeding, made her use This sacred inclamation: "God" (said shee) "Would have me utter things uncredited; For which now they approve what I presag'd; 255 They count me wise, that said before, I rag'd." [_Exit._]

LINENOTES:

12 _Rulers_. Shepherd, Phelps; Q, Rubers.

74 _your_. Ed.; Q, you.

149 _in_. Added by ed.

155 _Arden_. Q, Acden.

162 _Char._ Q, Cler.

[SCÆNA TERTIA.

_A Camp near Cambrai._]

_Enter Challon with two Souldiers._

_Chalon._ Come, souldiers: you are downewards fit for lackies; Give me your pieces, and take you these coates, To make you compleate foot men, in whose formes You must be compleate souldiers: you two onely Stand for our armie.

_1[st Soldier.]_ That were much.

_Chal._ Tis true; 5 You two must doe, or enter, what our armie Is now in field for.

_2[d Sol.]_ I see then our guerdon Must be the deede it selfe, twill be such honour.

_Chal._ What fight souldiers most for?

_1[st Sol.]_ Honour onely.

_Chal._ Yet here are crownes beside.

_Ambo._ We thanke you, Captaine. 10

_2[d Sol.]_ Now, sir, how show wee?

_Chal._ As you should at all parts. Goe now to Clermont D'Ambois, and informe him, Two battailes are set ready in his honour, And stay his presence onely for their signall, When they shall joyne; and that, t'attend him hither 15 Like one wee so much honour, wee have sent him--

_1[st Sol.]_ Us two in person.

_Chal._ Well, sir, say it so; And having brought him to the field, when I Fall in with him, saluting, get you both Of one side of his horse, and plucke him downe, 20 And I with th'ambush laid will second you.

_1[st Sol.]_ Nay, we shall lay on hands of too much strength To neede your secondings.

_2[d Sol.]_ I hope we shall. Two are enough to encounter Hercules.

_Chal._ Tis well said, worthy souldiers; hast, and hast him. [_Exeunt._] 25

LINENOTES:

_Exeunt._ Q, Exit.

[SCÆNA QUARTA.

_A Room in the Governor's Castle at Cambrai._]

_Enter Clermont, Maillard close following him._

_Clermont._ My Scotch horse to their armie--

_Maillard._ Please you, sir?

_Cler._ Sdeath! you're passing diligent.

_Mail._ Of my soule, Tis onely in my love to honour you With what would grace the King: but since I see You still sustaine a jealous eye on mee, 5 Ile goe before.

_Cler._ Tis well; Ile come; my hand.

_Mail._ Your hand, sir! Come, your word; your choise be us'd. _Exit._

_Clermont solus._

_Cler._ I had an aversation to this voyage, When first my brother mov'd it, and have found That native power in me was never vaine; 10 Yet now neglected it. I wonder much At my inconstancie in these decrees I every houre set downe to guide my life. When Homer made Achilles passionate, Wrathfull, revengefull, and insatiate 15 In his affections, what man will denie He did compose it all of industrie To let men see that men of most renowne, Strong'st, noblest, fairest, if they set not downe Decrees within them, for disposing these, 20 Of judgement, resolution, uprightnesse, And certaine knowledge of their use and ends, Mishap and miserie no lesse extends To their destruction, with all that they pris'd, Then to the poorest and the most despis'd? 25

_Enter Renel._

_Renel._ Why, how now, friend, retir'd! take heede you prove not Dismaid with this strange fortune. All observe you: Your government's as much markt as the Kings. What said a friend to Pompey?

_Cler._ What?

_Ren._ The people Will never know, unlesse in death thou trie, 30 That thou know'st how to beare adversitie.

_Cler._ I shall approve how vile I value feare Of death at all times; but to be too rash, Without both will and care to shunne the worst, (It being in power to doe well and with cheere) 35 Is stupid negligence and worse then feare.

_Ren._ Suppose this true now.

_Cler._ No, I cannot doo't. My sister truely said, there hung a taile Of circumstance so blacke on that supposure, That to sustaine it thus abhorr'd our mettall. 40 And I can shunne it too, in spight of all, Not going to field; and there to, being so mounted As I will, since I goe.

_Ren._ You will then goe?

_Cler._ I am engag'd both in my word and hand. But this is it that makes me thus retir'd, 45 To call my selfe t'account, how this affaire Is to be manag'd, if the worst should chance: With which I note, how dangerous it is For any man to prease beyond the place To which his birth, or meanes, or knowledge ties him. 50 For my part, though of noble birth, my birthright Had little left it, and I know tis better To live with little, and to keepe within A mans owne strength still, and in mans true end, Then runne a mixt course. Good and bad hold never 55 Any thing common; you can never finde Things outward care, but you neglect your minde. God hath the whole world perfect made and free; His parts to th'use of th'All. Men, then, that are Parts of that All, must, as the generall sway 60 Of that importeth, willingly obay In every thing without their power to change. Hee that, unpleas'd to hold his place, will range, Can in no other be contain'd that's fit, And so resisting th'All is crusht with it: 65 But he that knowing how divine a frame The whole world is, and of it all can name (Without selfe-flatterie) no part so divine As hee himselfe; and therefore will confine Freely his whole powers in his proper part, 70 Goes on most God-like. Hee that strives t'invert The Universals course with his poore way, Not onely dust-like shivers with the sway, But crossing God in his great worke, all earth Beares not so cursed and so damn'd a birth. 75

_Ren._ Goe on; Ile take no care what comes of you; Heaven will not see it ill, how ere it show. But the pretext to see these battailes rang'd Is much your honour.

_Cler._ As the world esteemes it. But to decide that, you make me remember 80 An accident of high and noble note, And fits the subject of my late discourse Of holding on our free and proper way. I over-tooke, comming from Italie, In Germanie a great and famous Earle 85 Of England, the most goodly fashion'd man I ever saw; from head to foote in forme Rare and most absolute; hee had a face Like one of the most ancient honour'd Romanes From whence his noblest familie was deriv'd; 90 He was beside of spirit passing great, Valiant, and learn'd, and liberall as the sunne, Spoke and writ sweetly, or of learned subjects, Or of the discipline of publike weales; And t'was the Earle of Oxford: and being offer'd 95 At that time, by Duke Cassimere, the view Of his right royall armie then in field, Refus'd it, and no foote was mov'd to stirre Out of his owne free fore-determin'd course. I, wondring at it, askt for it his reason, 100 It being an offer so much for his honour. Hee, all acknowledging, said t'was not fit To take those honours that one cannot quit.

_Ren._ Twas answer'd like the man you have describ'd.

_Cler._ And yet he cast it onely in the way, 105 To stay and serve the world. Nor did it fit His owne true estimate how much it waigh'd; For hee despis'd it, and esteem'd it freer To keepe his owne way straight, and swore that hee Had rather make away his whole estate 110 In things that crost the vulgar then he would Be frozen up stiffe (like a Sir John Smith, His countrey-man) in common Nobles fashions; Affecting, as't the end of noblesse were, Those servile observations.

_Ren._ It was strange. 115

_Cler._ O tis a vexing sight to see a man, Out of his way, stalke proud as hee were in; Out of his way, to be officious, Observant, wary, serious, and grave, Fearefull, and passionate, insulting, raging, 120 Labour with iron flailes to thresh downe feathers Flitting in ayre.

_Ren._ What one considers this, Of all that are thus out? or once endevours, Erring, to enter on mans right-hand path?

_Cler._ These are too grave for brave wits; give them toyes; 125 Labour bestow'd on these is harsh and thriftlesse. If you would Consull be (sayes one) of Rome, You must be watching, starting out of sleepes; Every way whisking; gloryfying Plebeians; Kissing Patricians hands, rot at their dores; 130 Speake and doe basely; every day bestow Gifts and observance upon one or other: And what's th'event of all? Twelve rods before thee; Three or foure times sit for the whole tribunall; Exhibite Circean games; make publike feasts; 135 And for these idle outward things (sayes he) Would'st thou lay on such cost, toile, spend thy spirits? And to be voide of perturbation, For constancie, sleepe when thou would'st have sleepe, Wake when thou would'st wake, feare nought, vexe for nought, 140 No paines wilt thou bestow? no cost? no thought?

_Ren._ What should I say? As good consort with you As with an angell; I could heare you ever.

_Cler._ Well, in, my lord, and spend time with my sister, And keepe her from the field with all endeavour. 145 The souldiers love her so, and shee so madly Would take my apprehension, if it chance, That bloud would flow in rivers.

_Ren._ Heaven forbid! And all with honour your arrivall speede! _Exit._

_Enter Messenger with two Souldiers like Lackies._

_Messenger._ Here are two lackies, sir, have message to you. 150

_Cler._ What is your message? and from whom, my friends?

_1[st Soldier.]_ From the Lieutenant, Colonell, and the Captaines, Who sent us to informe you that the battailes Stand ready rang'd, expecting but your presence To be their honor'd signall when to joyne, 155 And we are charg'd to runne by, and attend you.

_Cler._ I come. I pray you see my running horse Brought to the backe-gate to mee.

_Mess._ Instantly. _Exit Mess[enger]._

_Cler._ Chance what can chance mee, well or ill is equall In my acceptance, since I joy in neyther, 160 But goe with sway of all the world together. In all successes Fortune and the day To mee alike are; I am fixt, be shee Never so fickle; and will there repose, Farre past the reach of any dye she throwes. 165 _Ex[it] cum Pediss[equis]._

_Finis Actus tertii._

LINENOTES:

114 _as't_. Emended by ed.; Q, as.

ACTUS QUARTI SCÆNA PRIMA.

[_A Parade-Ground near Cambrai._]