_Mons._ Or did the slie Guise put thee 270 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 see Thou understand'st thy selfe.

_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?

_Mons._ A poxe upon you!

_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]._

_Gui._ No more! Ill fortune! 290 I would have given a million to have heard His scoffes retorted, and the insolence Of his high birth and greatnesse (which were never Effects of his deserts, but of his fortune) Made show to his dull eyes beneath the worth 295 That men aspire to by their knowing vertues, Without which greatnesse is a shade, a bubble.

_Cler._ But what one great man dreames of that but you?

All take their births and birth-rights left to them (Acquir'd by others) for their owne worths purchase, 300 When many a foole in both is great as they: And who would thinke they could winne with their worths Wealthy possessions, when, wonne to their hands, They neyther can judge justly of their value, Nor know their use? and therefore they are puft 305 With such proud tumours as this Monsieur is, Enabled onely by the goods they have To scorne all goodnesse: none great fill their fortunes; But as those men that make their houses greater, Their housholds being lesse, so Fortune raises 310 Huge heapes of out-side in these mightie men, And gives them nothing in them.

_Gui._ True as truth: And therefore they had rather drowne their substance In superfluities of brickes and stones (Like Sysiphus, advancing of them ever, 315 And ever pulling downe) then lay the cost Of any s.l.u.ttish corner on a man, Built with G.o.ds finger, and enstil'd his temple.

_Bal._ Tis n.o.bly said, my lord.

_Gui._ I would have these things Brought upon stages, to let mightie misers 320 See all their grave and serious miseries plaid, As once they were in Athens and olde Rome.

_Cler._ Nay, we must now have nothing brought on stages, But puppetry, and pide ridiculous antickes: Men thither come to laugh, and feede fool-fat, 325 Checke at all goodnesse there, as being prophan'd: When, wheresoever goodnesse comes, shee makes The place still sacred, though with other feete Never so much tis scandal'd and polluted.

Let me learne anything that fits a man, 330 In any stables showne, as well as stages.

_Bal._ Why, is not all the world esteem'd a stage?

_Cler._ Yes, and right worthily; and stages too Have a respect due to them, if but onely For what the good Greeke moralist sayes of them: 335 "Is a man proud of greatnesse, or of riches?

Give me an expert actor, Ile shew all, That can within his greatest glory fall.

Is a man fraid with povertie and lownesse?

Give me an actor, Ile shew every eye 340 What hee laments so, and so much doth flye, The best and worst of both." If but for this then, To make the proudest out-side that most swels With things without him, and above his worth, See how small cause hee has to be so blowne up; 345 And the most poore man, to be griev'd with poorenesse, Both being so easily borne by expert actors, The stage and actors are not so contemptfull As every innovating Puritane, And ignorant sweater out of zealous envie 350 Would have the world imagine. And besides That all things have been likened to the mirth Us'd upon stages, and for stages fitted, The splenative philosopher, that ever Laught at them all, were worthy the enstaging. 355 All objects, were they ne'er so full of teares, He so conceited that he could distill thence Matter that still fed his ridiculous humour.

Heard he a lawyer, never so vehement pleading, Hee stood and laught. Heard hee a trades-man swearing, 360 Never so thriftily selling of his wares, He stood and laught. Heard hee an holy brother, For hollow ostentation, at his prayers Ne'er so impetuously, hee stood and laught.

Saw hee a great man never so insulting, 365 Severely inflicting, gravely giving lawes, Not for their good, but his, hee stood and laught.

Saw hee a youthfull widow Never so weeping, wringing of her hands For her lost lord, still the philosopher laught. 370 Now whether hee suppos'd all these presentments Were onely maskeries, and wore false faces, Or else were simply vaine, I take no care; But still hee laught, how grave soere they were.

_Gui._ And might right well, my Clermont; and for this 375 Vertuous digression we will thanke the scoffes Of vicious Monsieur. But now for the maine point Of your late resolution for revenge Of your slaine friend.

_Cler._ I have here my challenge, Which I will pray my brother Baligny 380 To beare the murtherous Earle.

_Bal._ I have prepar'd Meanes for accesse to him, through all his guard.

_Gui._ About it then, my worthy Baligny, And bring us the successe.

_Bal._ I will, my lord. _Exeunt._

LINENOTES:

_Enter Henry . . . King_. Placed by editor after 144 instead of 145, as in Q. _Soisson_. Ed.; Q, Foisson.

167 _at_. Added by ed.

174 _t'embrace_. Ed.; Q, t'mbrace.

260 _n.o.blemen_. Two words in Q.

268 _Mons_. Q omits; added in MS. in one of the copies in the Brit. Mus.

278-284 The lines are broken in the Q at _King_, _see_, _selfe_, _better_, _Right_, _True_, _too_, _upon you_, _deedes_.

285 _you were_. Shepherd, Phelps; Q, you're.

335 _moralist_. Shepherd, Phelps; Q, Moralists.

359-61 _Heard . . . wares_. So punctuated by ed.; Q, Heard hee a trades-man swearing

Never so thriftily (selling of his wares).

[SCaeNA SECUNDA.

_A Room in Montsurry's house._]

_Tamyra sola._

_Tamyra._ Revenge, that ever red sitt'st in the eyes Of injur'd ladies, till we crowne thy browes With bloudy lawrell, and receive from thee Justice for all our honours injurie; Whose wings none flye that wrath or tyrannie 5 Have ruthlesse made and bloudy, enter here, Enter, O enter! and, though length of time Never lets any scape thy constant justice, Yet now prevent that length. Flye, flye, and here Fixe thy steele foot-steps; here, O here, where still 10 Earth (mov'd with pittie) yeelded and embrac'd My loves faire figure, drawne in his deare bloud, And mark'd the place, to show thee where was done The cruell'st murther that ere fled the sunne.

O Earth! why keep'st thou not as well his spirit, 15 To give his forme life? No, that was not earthly; That (rarefying the thinne and yeelding ayre) Flew sparkling up into the sphaere of fire Whence endlesse flames it sheds in my desire.

Here be my daily pallet; here all nights 20 That can be wrested from thy rivals armes, O my deare Bussy, I will lye, and kisse Spirit into thy bloud, or breathe out mine In sighes, and kisses, and sad tunes to thine. _She sings._

_Enter Montsurry._

_Montsurry._ Still on this hant? Still shall adulterous bloud 25 Affect thy spirits? Thinke, for shame, but this, This bloud, that c.o.c.katrice-like thus thou brood'st, To dry is to breede any quench to thine.

And therefore now (if onely for thy l.u.s.t A little cover'd with a vaile of shame) 30 Looke out for fresh life, rather then witch-like Learne to kisse horror, and with death engender.