MONSIEUR

See how he hangs upon the ear of Guise, Like to his Jewel. Contempt of these Does he read to the Guise? 'Tis passing needful, And he, I think, makes show t'affect his doctrine. And pursues another, 'Tis fine hypocrisy, and cheap, and vulgar, Known for a covert practice, yet believed (By those abused souls, that they teach and govern) No more then Wives adulteries, by their Husbands, They bearing it with so unmoved aspects, Hight coming from it; as it not all, Or made by custom nothing. This same D'Ambois Hath got such opinion of his virtues, (Holding all learning but and Art to live well,) And showing he hath learned it, in his life, Being thereby strong in his persuading others; That this ambitious Guise, embracing him, Is thought t'mbrace his virtues. I'll partly engendering virtue. Men affirm Though this same Clermont hath a D'Ambois spirit, And breathes his brother's valour; yet his temper Is so much passed his, that you cannot move him: I'll try that temper in him, Come, you two Devour each other with your virtues zeal, And leave for other friends, no fragment of ye: I wonder Guise, you will thus ravish him Out of my bosom, that first gave the life His manhood breathes, spirit, and means and luster. What do men think of me, I pray thee Clermont? Once give me leave (for trial of that love That from thy brother Bussy thou inherit'st) Clasp thy bosom. Be a true glass to me, in which I may Behold what thoughts the many headed-beast, And thou thy self breathes out concerning me, My ends, and new upstarted state in Brabant, For which I now am bound, my higher aims, Imagined here in France: speak man, and let Thy words be born as naked as thy thoughts: Oh were brave Bussy living! 'Tis true, thou art his brother, but durst thou Have braved the Guise: maugre his presence, courted His wedded Lady; emptied even the dregs Of his worst thoughts of me, even to my to that; Discerned not me his rising sovereign From any common groom: but let me hear My grossest faults, as gross-full as they were. Durst thou do this? Dare then to pour out here thy freest soul, Of what I am. He only jested, spoke of spleen and envy; Thy soul more learned, is more ingenuous, Searching, judicial; let me then from thee Hear what I am. Tush, thou wilt sing Encomions of my praise, Is this Like D'Ambois? I must vex the Guise, Or never look to hear free truth; tell me, For Bussy lives not: he durst anger me, Yet for my love, would not have feared to anger The King himself. Thou understandest me, dost not? Dost understand thy self? I pray thee tell me, Dost never search thy thoughts, what my design Might be to entertain thee and thy brother? What turn I meant to serve with you? But what thinkest thou? Had I no end in't thinkest? When I took in such two as you two were, A ragged couple of decayed Commanders, When a French-crown would plentifully serve To buy you both to any thing i'th' earth. Nay bought you both outright, You and your Trunks: I fear me, I offend thee. The most renowned Soldier Epaminondas (as good Authors say) Had no more suits then backs, but you two shared But one suit betwixt you both, when both your studies Were not what meat to dine with; if your Partridge, Your S ipe, your Woodcock, Lark, or your read Hearing, But where to beg it, whither at my house, Or at the Guises (for you know you were Ambitious beggars,) or at some Cooks-shop, to eternise the Cooks trust, and score it up. Dost not offend thee? As for thy Gentry, I dare boldly take Thy honourable oath: and yet some say Thou and thy most renowned noble Brother, Came to the Court first in a Keel of Seacoal; Dost not offend thee? Why do I love thee then? why have I raked thee Out of the dunghill? cast my cast Wardrobe on thee? Brought thee to Court to, as I did thy Brother? Made ye my saucy bon companions? Taught ye to call our greatest Noble men By the corruption of their names; Jack, Tom? Have I blown both for nothing to this bubble? Though thou art learned; thast no enchanting wit Or were thy wit good, am I therefore bound To keep thee for my Table? Or did the S j Guise put thee Into my bosom, undermine my projects? I fear thee not; for though I be not sure I have thy heart, I know thy brainpan yet To be as empty a dull piece of wainscot As ever armed the scalp of any Courtier; A fellow only that consists of sinews; Mere Swisser, apt for any execution. Right. True. A pox upon you. The Devil take him. I'll no more of him. No more I swear. Farewell. But love me, and perform a Wives partly yet, (With all my love before) I swear forgiveness. Remember their deserts. How now; would any speak with me? Perverse, and traitorous miscreant: Where are your other fellows of my Guard? Have I not told you, I will speak with none, But Lord Renel? Oh, is it he? 'Tis well: attend him in. I must be vigilant: the Furies haunt me. Do you hear dame? My noblest Lord Renel! passed all men welcome. Wife, welcome his Lordship. She's passionate still, to think we ever parted, By my too stern injurious Jealousy. Death! Who have we here? Ho! Guard! Villains! Negligent Trayters! Murder, murder, murder. Right: now I see Thou understandest thy self. Challenge! I'll touch none. Stay, hold, one thought hath hardened me, And since I must afford thee victory, It shall be great and brave, if one request Thou wilt admit me. Farewell, I heartily forgive thee. Wife, And thee, let penitence spend thy rest of life.