Maillard. These troopes and companies come in with wings:

So many men, so arm'd, so gallant horse,

I thinke no other government in France

So soone could bring together. With such men

Me thinkes a man might passe th'insulting Pillars5

Mail. Wee must not argue that. The Kings command

Is neede and right enough: and that he serves,15

(As all true subjects should) without disputing.

Chal. But knowes not hee of your command to take

His brother Clermont?

Mail. No: the Kings will is

Expressely to conceale his apprehension

From my Lord Governour. Observ'd yee not?20

Againe peruse the letters. Both you are

Made my assistants, and have right and trust

In all the waightie secrets like my selfe.

Aum. Tis strange a man that had, through his life past,

So sure a foote in vertue and true knowledge25

As Clermont D'Ambois, should be now found tripping,

And taken up thus, so to make his fall

More steepe and head-long.

Mail. It is Vertues fortune,

To keepe her low, and in her proper place;

Height hath no roome for her. But as a man30

That hath a fruitfull wife, and every yeere

A childe by her, hath every yeere a month

To breathe himselfe, where hee that gets no childe

Hath not a nights rest (if he will doe well);

So, let one marry this same barraine Vertue,35

She never lets him rest, where fruitfull Vice

Spares her rich drudge, gives him in labour breath,

Feedes him with bane, and makes him fat with death.

Chal. I see that good lives never can secure

Men from bad livers. Worst men will have best40

As ill as they, or heaven to hell they'll wrest.

Aum. There was a merit for this, in the fault

That Bussy made, for which he (doing pennance)

Proves that these foule adulterous guilts will runne

Through the whole bloud, which not the cleare can shunne.45

Mail. Ile therefore take heede of the bastarding

Whole innocent races; tis a fearefull thing.

And as I am true batcheler, I sweare,

To touch no woman (to the coupling ends)

Unlesse it be mine owne wife or my friends;50

I may make bold with him.

Aum. Tis safe and common.

The more your friend dares trust, the more deceive him.

And as through dewie vapors the sunnes forme

Makes the gay rainebow girdle to a storme,

So in hearts hollow, friendship (even the sunne55

To all good growing in societie)

Makes his so glorious and divine name hold

Collours for all the ill that can be told. Trumpets within.

Mail. Harke! our last troopes are come.

Chal. (Drums beate.) Harke! our last foote.

Mail. Come, let us put all quickly into battaile,60

And send for Clermont, in whose honour all

This martiall preparation wee pretend.

Chal. Wee must bethinke us, ere wee apprehend him,

(Besides our maine strength) of some stratageme

To make good our severe command on him,65

Hee feeles the touch of such a stratageme,

Tis not choicest brace of all our bands

Can manacle or quench his fiery hands.

Mail. When they have seaz'd him, the ambush shal make in.

Aum. Doe as you please; his blamelesse spirit deserves80

Of all the entertaining showes and feasts

That welcom'd Clermont to the brave virago,

His manly sister. Such wee are esteem'd

As are our consorts. Marquesse malecontent100

Comes where hee knowes his vaine hath safest vent.

Mail. Let him come at his will, and goe as free;

Let us ply Clermont, our whole charge is hee. Exeunt.

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 delighted15

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 employ20

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 price30

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 advance35

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

No rust nor length of time corrupted one;45

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 great55

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

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 best85

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 wrong90

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 world95

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, another105

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

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 deales135

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 thus155

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 despise160

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 mention170

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].

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.

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 companies190

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 conceive200

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 much205

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

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 profit250

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.]

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 hither15

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

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

That native power in me was never vaine;10

I every houre set downe to guide my life.

When Homer made Achilles passionate,

Wrathfull, revengefull, and insatiate15

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

(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 never55

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 sway60

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

But to decide that, you make me remember80

And t'was the Earle of Oxford: and being offer'd95

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 estate110

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

Kissing Patricians hands, rot at their dores;130

Exhibite Circean games; make publike feasts;135

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