AUMALE

The confines of his Government, whose view Is the pretext of his Command, hath need Of no such sudden expedition. 'Tis strange a man that had, through his life passed, So sure a foot in virtue and true knowledge, As Clermont D'Ambois, should be now found tripping, And taken up thus, so to make his fallen More steep and headlong. There was a merit for this, in the fault That Bussy made, for which he (doing penance) Proves that these foul adulterous guilts will run Through the whole blood, which not the clear can shun. 'Tis safe and common. The more your friend dares trust, the more deceive him. And as through dewy vapours the Suns form Makes the gay Rainbow, girdle to a storm, So in hearts hollow, Friendship (even the Sun To all good growing in society) Makes his so glorious and divine name hold Colours for all the ill that can be told. Do as you please; his blameless spirit deserves (I dare engage my life) of all this, nothing. Who knows not The bombast polity thrusts into his Giant, To make his wisdom seem of size as huge, And all for sleight encounter of a shade, So he be touched, he would have heinous made? What spirit breathes thus, in this more then man, Turns flesh to air possessed, and in a storm, Tears men about the field Like Autumn leaves? He turned wild lightning in the Lackeys hands, Who, though their sudden violent twitch unhorsed him, Yet when he boar himself, their saucy fingers Flew as too hight off, as he had been fire. The ambush then made in, through all whose force, He drove as if a fierce and fire given Canon Had spit his iron vomit out amongst them. The Battles then, in two halfmoons enclosed him, In which he showed, as if he were the light, And they but earth, who wondering what he was; Shrunk their steel horns, and gave him glorious pass, And as a great shot from a town besieged, At foes before it, flies forth black and roaring, But they too far, and that with weight oppressed, (As if disdaining earth) does only grass, Strike earth, and up again into the air; Again Sinks to it, and again does rise, And keeps such strength that when it softliest moves, It piecemeal shivers any let it proves: So flew brave Clermont forth, till breath forsook him, Then fell to earth, and yet (sweet man) even then His spirits convulsions made him bound again, Passed all their reaches; till all motion spent, His fixed eyes cast a blaze of such disdain, All stood and stared, and untouched let him lie, As something sacred fallen out of the sky. Oh now some rude hand hath laid hold on him! See, prisoner led, with his bans honoured more, Then all the freedom he enjoyed before. I grieve that virtue lives so undistinguished From vice in any ill, and though the crown Of Sovereign Law; she should be yet her footstool, Subject to censure, all the shame and pain Of all her rigor. I wonder how this chanced you. Sir, we are glad, believe it, and have hope The King will so conceit it. Your message shall be done sir: I my self Will be for you a messenger of ill. Mean space use your spirit And knowledge for the cheerful patience Of this so strange and sudden consequence. Save your Ladyship. I, Madame, and confer such news from him. News that I wish some other had had the charge of. Your Ladyship must use some patience Or else I cannot do him that desire, He urged with such affection to your Graces. He is. Madame, 'tis only this; his liberty. You'll again prevent me. Then madame, thus it fares; he was enuited By way of honour to him, to take view Of all the Powers his brother Baligny Hath in his gou rnment; which ranged in battles, Mail ard, Lieutenant to the Governor, Having re iu'd strict Letters from the King, To tr ine him to the musters, and betray him, To their surprise, which, with Chalon in chief, And other Captains (all the field put hard By his incredible valour for his S pe) They haplessly and guiltlesly performed, And to Bastile he's now led prisoner. But for your servant, I dare swear him guiltless. Well, Madame, I must tender my attendance On him again. Will't please you to return No service to him by me? Oh Madame, this will kill him: comfort you With full assurance of his quick acquittal; Be not so passionate: rise cease your tears. Ease to your bans sir. As great rich men take sudden poverty, I never witnessed a more noble love, Nor a more ruthful sorrow: I well wished Some other had been master of my message. Sir, she commends her kindest service to you, And this rich Cabinet. Your hope is joust and happy, see sir both In both the looks of these. All the desert of good, renown your Highness. It came too late sir, for those loveliest eyes (Through which a soul look't so divinely loving, Tears nothing uttering her distress enough) She wept quite out, and Like two falling Stars Their dearest sights quite vanished with her tears. I will, my Lord. Sent for to Council, by the King, and ambush (Lodged for the purpose) rushed on him, and took His Princely life; who sent (in dying then) His love to you, as to the best of men. We will forbear, and leave you free sir. What? lie and languish, Clermont? Cursed man To leave him here thus: he hath slain himself. It must be sure and strong hand: for if once H e feels the touch of such a stratagem, 'Tis not the choicest brace of all our Bans Can ma acle, or quench his ery hands. Happy change, I ver will salute thee with my service Oh Sir, the Guise is slain.