SALISBURY

As true as I believe you think them false, That give you cause to prove my saying true. What other harm have I good Lady done. But spoke the harm, that is by others done? Pardon me Madam, I may not go without you to the kings. Therefore, to be possessed with double pomp, To guard a Title, that was rich before; To gild refined Gold, to paint the Lily; To throw a perfume on the Violet, To smooth the ye, or add another hew Unto the Rainbow; or with Taper-Light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess. In this the Antic, and well noted face Of plain old form, is much disfigured, And Like a shifted wind unto a sail, It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about, Startles, and frights consideration: Makes found opinion sick, and truth suspected, For putting on so new a fashioned robe. To this effect, before you were new crowned We breathed our Council: but it pleased your Highness To overbear it, and we are all well pleased, Since all, and every partly of what we would Does make a stand, at what your Highness will. The colour of the King does come, and go Between his purpose and his conscience, Like Heralds betwixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. Indeed we feared his sickness was passed cure. It is apparent foul-play, and it's shame That Greatness should so grossly offer it; So thrive it in your game, and so farewell. Lords, I will meet him at S. Edmonsbury, It is our safety, and we must embrace This gentle offer of the perilous time. The Count Meloone, a Noble Lord of France, Whose private with me of the Dolphins love, Is much more general, then these lines import. Or rather then set forward, for it'll be Two long days journey (Lords) or ere we meet. The king hath dispossessed himself of us, We will not line his thin-bestained cloak With our pure Honours: nor attend the foot. That leaves the print of blood where ere it walks. Return, and tell him so: we know the worst. Our griefs, and not our manners reason now. This is the prison: What is he lies here? Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Does lay it open to urge on revenge. Sir Richard, what think you? you have beheld, Or have you read, or herd, or could you think? Or do you almost think, although you see, That you do see? Could thought, without this object Form such another? This is the very top, The height, the Crest: or Crest unto the Crest Of murders Arms: This is the bloodiest shame, The wildest Sa agery, the vildest stroke That ever walleyed wrath, or staring rage Presented to the tears of soft remorse. If that it be the work of any hand? We had a kind of light, what would ensue: It is the shameful work of Huberts hand, The practice, and the purpose of the king: From whose obedience I forbid my soul, Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, And breathing to his breathless Excellence The Incense of a Vow, a holy Vow: Never to taste the pleasures of the world, Never to be infected with delight, Nor conversant with Ease, and Idleness, Till I have set a glory to this hand, By giving it the worship of Revenge. O he is bold, and blushes not at death, Avant thou hateful villain, get thee gone. Must I rob the Law? Not till I sheath it in a murderers skin. Thou art a Murderer. Stand by, or I shall gaul you Falconbridge. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, For villainy is not without such rheum, And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like Rivers of remorse and innocence. Away with me, all you whose souls abhor the uncleanly savours of a Slaughterhouse, For I am stifled with this smell of sin. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. And Noble Dolphin, albeit we swear A voluntary zeal, and and vn-urg'd Faith To your proceedings: yet believe me Prince, I am not glad that such a soar of Time Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt, And heal the inveterate Canker of one wound, By making many: O it grieves my soul, That I must draw this mettle from my side To be a widdow-maker: o, and there Where honourable rescue, and defence Cries out upon the name of Salisbury. But such is the infection of the time, That for the health and Physic of our right, We cannot deal but with the very hand Of stern Injustice, and confused wrong: And is't not pity, (o my grieved friends) That we, the sons and children of this Isle, Was born to see so sad and hour as this, Wherein we step after a stranger, march Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up Her Enemies ranks? I must withdraw, and weep Upon the spot of this enforced cause, To grace the Gentry of a Land remote, And follow unacquainted colours here: What here? Oh Nation that thou couldst remove, That Neptune's Arms who clips thee about, Would bear thee from the knowledge of thy self, And cripple thee unto a Pagan shore, Where these two Christian Armies might combine The blood of malice, in a vain of league, And not to spend it so unneighbourly. I did not think the King so stored with friends. That misbegotten devil Falconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. When we were happy, we had other names. Wounded to death. May this be possible? May this be true? We do believe thee, and beshrew my soul, But I do love the favour, and the form Of this most fair occasion, by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight, And Like a bated and retired Flood, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have ore-look'd, And calmly run on in obedience Even to our Ocean, to our great King John. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, For I do see the cruel pangs of death Right in thine eye. Away, my friends, new flight, And happy newness, that intends old right. Be of good comfort (Prince) for you are born To set a form upon that indigest Which he hath left so shapeless, and so rude. You breath these dead news in as dead and ear My Liege, my Lord: but now a King, now thus. It seems you know not then so much as we, The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, Who half and hour since came from the Dolphin, And brings from him such offers of our peace, As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war. Nay, it's in a manner done already, For many carriages he hath dispatched To the sea side, and put his cause and quarrel To the disposing of the Cardinal, With whom your self, my self, and other Lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily. And the Like tender of our love we make To rest without a spot for evermore.