[CHORUS.]

Enter GHOST and REVENGE.

Ghost. Ay, now my hopes have end in their

effects,

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When blood and sorrow finish my desires:
Horatio murdered in his father's bower;
Vild Serberine by Pedringano slain;
False Pedringano hang'd by quaint device;
Fair Isabella by herself misdone;
Prince Balthazar by Bel-imperia stabb'd;
The Duke of Castile and his wicked son
Both done to death by old Hieronimo;
My Bel-imperia fall'n as Dido fell,
And good Hieronimo slain by himself:
Ay, these were spectacles to please my soul!
Now will I beg at lovely Proserpine
That, by the virtue of her princely doom,
I may consort1 my friends in pleasing sort,
And on my foes work just and sharp revenge.
I'll lead my friend Horatio through those fields,
Where never-dying wars are still inur'd; 2
I'll lead fair Isabella to that train,
Where pity weeps, but never feeleth pain;
I'll lead my Bel-imperia to those joys,
That vestal virgins and fair queens possess ;
I'll lead Hieronimo where Orpheus plays,
Adding sweet pleasure to eternal days.

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20

24

request:

34

Let me be judge, and doom them to unrest.
Let loose poor Tityus from the vulture's gripe,
And let Don Cyprian supply his room;
Place Don Lorenzo on Ixion's wheel,
And let the lover's endless pains surcease
(Juno forgets old wrath, and grants him ease);
Hang Balthazar about Chimaera's neck,
And let him there bewail his bloody love,
Repining at our joys that are above;
Let Serberine go roll the fatal stone,
And take from Sisyphus his endless moan;
False Pedringano, for his treachery,
Let him be dragg'd through boiling Acheron,
And there live, dying still in endless Hames,
Blaspheming gods and all their holy names.
Rev. Then haste we down to meet thy friends
and foes:

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43

To place thy friends in ease, the rest in woes; For here though death hath end their misery, I'll there begin their endless tragedy. Exeunt.

8 Terrors, bugbears.

NOT out of confidence that none but wel

Are able to present this tragedy,

Not out of envy at the grace of late
It did receive, nor yet to derogate

From their deserts who give out boldly that s
They move with equal feet on the same flat;
Neither for all nor any of such ends
We offer it, gracious and noble friends,
To your review; we, far from emulation
And (charitably judge) from imitation,
With this work entertain you, a piece known
And still believ'd in Court to be our own.
To quit our claim, doubting our right or merit,
Would argue in us poverty of spirit

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Which we must not subscribe to. Field 3 is gone,

15

Whose action first did give it name, and one *
Who came the nearest to him, is denied
By his gray beard to show the height and
pride

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Of D'Ambois' youth and bravery; yet to hold
Our title still a-foot, and not grow cold
By giving it o'er, a third man with his best
Of care and pains defends our interest;
As Richard he was lik'd, nor do we fear
In personating D'Ambois he'll appear
To faint, or go less, so your free consent,
As heretofore, give him encouragement.
1 The company of actors-the "King's men."
A rival company which had given the play.
Nathaniel Field, b. 1587; one of the King's men."
Not identified.

Supposed to be Пlyard Swanston.

25

Perhaps Ricardo, in Massinger's Picture. (Phelps). ↑ IL

ACT I

15

Yet differ not from those colossic statues,
Which, with heroic forms without o'erspread,
Within are nought but mortar, flint, and lead.
Man is a torch borne in the wind; a dream
But of a shadow, summ'd with all his substance;
And as great seamen, using all their wealth
And skills in Neptune's deep invisible paths,
In tall ships richly built and ribb'd with brass,
To put a girdle round about the world,
When they have done it (coming near their
haven)

Are glad to give a warning-piece, and call
A poor, staid fisherman, that never past

A glade, near the Court. Discharge a signal shot.

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[Enter] Monsieur, with two Pages. [Mo.] There is no second place in numerous state 1

That holds more than a cipher; in a king
All places are contain'd. His word and looks
Are like the flashes and the bolts of Jove;
His deeds inimitable, like the sea

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38

45

That shuts still as it opes, and leaves no tracts
Nor prints of precedent for mean men's facts: 2
There's but a thread betwixt me and a crown:
I would not wish it cut, unless by nature;
Yet to prepare me for that possible fortune,
'Tis good to get resolved spirits about me.
I follow'd D'Ambois to this green retreat;
A man of spirit beyond the reach of fear,
Who (discontent with his neglected worth)
Neglects the light, and loves obscure abodes;
But he is young and haughty, apt to take
Fire at advancement, to bear state and flour-
ish;

50

Mutually profitable; so our lives

In acts exemplary, not only win

Ourselves good names, but do to others give 80 Matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live. Bu. What would you wish me?

Mo.

Leave the troubled streams,

And live, as thrivers do, at the well-head.
Bu. At the well-head? Alas, what should I

do

All the commandments ere you break your fast;
But believe backwards, make your period
And creed's last article, "I believe in God";
And (hearing villanies preacht) t'unfold their

art,

Learn to commit them: 't is a great man's part.
Shall I learn this there?
Mo.
No, thou need'st not learn,
Thou hast the theory; now go there and prac-
tise.

Bu. Ay, in a threadbare suit; when men

7

come there, They must have high naps, and go from thence bare:

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A man may drown the parts of ten rich men In one poor suit; brave barks and outward gloss

Attract Court loves, be in parts ne'er so gross. Mo. Thou shalt have gloss enough, and all things fit

T'enchase in all show thy long-smothered spirit:
Be rul'd by me then. The old Scythians
Painted blind Fortune's powerful hands with

wings,

To show her gifts come swift and suddenly, 115
Which, if her favourite be not swift to take,
He loses them for ever. Then be wise:
Stay but awhile here, and I'll send to thee.
Exit Monsieur with Pages.
Bu. What will he send? Some crowns? It is
to sow them

119

Upon my spirit, and make them spring a crown
Worth millions of the seed-crowns he will send.
Like to disparking 10 noble husbandmen,
He'll put his plow into me, plow me up.
But his unsweating thrift is policy,

A frame for holding an object fixed.

5 Equivocation, trickery. Whimsical.

7 Clothes with rich surface.

10 Changing parks into plow-land.

s Abilities.

• Fine coverings.

And learning-hating policy is ignorant
To fit his seed-land soil; a smooth plans ground
Will never nourish any politic seed
I am for honest actions, not for great;
If I may bring up a new fashion,

And rise in Court for virtue, speed bis ploy 130
The King hath known me long as well as he,
Yet could my fortune never fit the length
Of both their understandings till this hour,
There is a deep nick in Time's restless whee
For each man's good, when which nick

As rhetoric yet works not persuasions
But only is a mean to make it work,
So no man riseth by his real merit,

But when it cries "clink" in his raiser's spirit
Many will say, that cannot rise at all
Man's first hour's rise is first step to his fall.
I'll venture that; men that fall low must die
As well as men cast headlong from the sky
Enter MAFFE.

Ma. Humour of princes! Is this wretch endu'd

With any merit worth a thousand gowns 2
Will my lord have me be so ill a steward
Of his revenue to dispise an

So great with small cause as shows in him?
I must examine this. Is your name D'Ambois?
Bu. Sir?

Serve you the Monsieur? How?

But in such place as gives me the command
Of all his other servants. And because
His grace's pleasure is to give your good
His pass through my command, methinks you
might

Use me with more respect.
Bu.
Cry you mercy! 2
Now you have opened my dull eyes, I see you,
And would be glad to see the good you speak

What might I call your name?
Ma.

Monsieur Maffe. Bu. Monsieur Maffe? Then, good Monsieur Maffe,

Pray let me know you better.

That you may use me better. For yourself, By your no better outside, I would judge you To be some poet; have you given my lord Some pamphlet ?

That is to pass your charge to my poor use, To your discretion?

I hope 't is no rude office to ask reason

2 Beg pardon!

1 Its passage.

The weapon of the Fool, as of the Vice in The Moralities.

To this of ours, and then compare them both; Which we must not affect, because in kingdoms

1 A room in the Court. From a misplaced stage-direction in Sc. I (Q. 1641), it appears that Henry and Guise are playing chess here.

2 A boisterous country dance.

Pure innovation is more gross than error.

Mo. No question we shall see them imitate (Though far off) the fashions of our Courts, 40 As they have ever ap'd us in attire.

Never were men so weary of their skins,
And apt leap out of themselves as they;
Who when they travel to bring forth rare men,
Come home delivered of a fine French suit. 45
Their brains lie with their tailors, and get babies
For their most complete issue; he's sole heir
To all the moral virtues that first greets
The light with a new fashion, which becomes
them

Like apes, disfigur'd with the attires of men. 50 Ho No question they much wrong their real worth

In affectation of outlandish scum;

But they have faults, and we more; they foolish-proud

To jet 5 in others' plumes so haughtily;
We proud, that they are proud of foolery,
Holding our worths more complete for their
vaunts.

Enter Monsieur, D'AMBOIS.

Mb. Come, mine own sweetheart, I will enter thee.

Sir, I have brought a gentleman to Court,
And pray you would vouchsafe to do him grace.
He. D'Ambois, I think?

That's still my name, my lord, so Though I be something altered in attire. He. We like your alteration, and must tell you We have expected th' offer of your service;" For we (in fear to make mild virtue proud) Use not to seek her out in any man.

Bu. Nor doth she use to seek out any man: He that will win must woo her; [she's not

Mo. I urg'd her modesty in him, my lord, And gave her those rites that he says she

He. If you have woo'd and won, then, brother,

TO

Mo. Th' art mine, sweetheart. See, here's the Guise's Duchess,

The Countess of Montsurreau, Beaupre.

Come, I'll enseam thee. Ladies, y'are too many To be in council; I have here a friend

That I would gladly enter in your graces.

Bu. Save you, ladies.

Du. If you enter him in our graces, my lord, methinks by his blunt behaviour he should come out of himself.

Ta. Has he never been courtier, my lord?
Mo. Never, my lady.

Be. And why did the toy take him in th' head now?

Bu. 'Tis leap-year, lady, and therefore very good to enter a courtier.

He. Mark, Duchess of Guise, there is one is not bashful.

"Travel" and "travail" were not distinguished Ex Elizabethan spelling.

Strut.

From Qq. of 1607, 8.

Introduce.