The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman

by George Chapman

  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

  Labour bestow’d on these is harsh and thriftlesse.

  If you would Consull be (sayes one) of Rome,

  You must be watching, starting out of sleepes;

  Every way whisking; gloryfying Plebeians;

  Kissing Patricians hands, rot at their dores; 130

  Speake and doe basely; every day bestow

  Gifts and observance upon one or other:

  And what’s th’event of all? Twelve rods before thee;

  Three or foure times sit for the whole tribunall;

  Exhibite Circean games; make publike feasts; 135

  And for these idle outward things (sayes he)

  Would’st thou lay on such cost, toile, spend thy spirits?

  And to be voide of perturbation,

  For constancie, sleepe when thou would’st have sleepe,

  Wake when thou would’st wake, feare nought, vexe for nought, 140

  No paines wilt thou bestow? no cost? no thought?

  Ren. What should I say? As good consort with you

  As with an angell; I could heare you ever.

  Cler. Well, in, my lord, and spend time with my sister,

  And keepe her from the field with all endeavour. 145

  The souldiers love her so, and shee so madly

  Would take my apprehension, if it chance,

  That bloud would flow in rivers.

  Ren. Heaven forbid!

  And all with honour your arrivall speede! Exit.

  Enter Messenger with two Souldiers like Lackies.

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

  Cler. What is your message? and from whom, my friends?

  1[st Soldier.] From the Lieutenant, Colonell, and the

  Captaines,

  Who sent us to informe you that the battailes

  Stand ready rang’d, expecting but your presence

  To be their honor’d signall when to joyne, 155

  And we are charg’d to runne by, and attend you.

  Cler. I come. I pray you see my running horse

  Brought to the backe-gate to mee.

  Mess. Instantly. Exit Mess[enger].

  Cler. Chance what can chance mee, well or ill is equall

  In my acceptance, since I joy in neyther, 160

  But goe with sway of all the world together.

  In all successes Fortune and the day

  To mee alike are; I am fixt, be shee

  Never so fickle; and will there repose,

  Farre past the reach of any dye she throwes. 165

  Ex[it] cum Pediss[equis].

  Finis Actus tertii.

  ACTUS QUARTI.

  SCÆNA PRIMA.

  [A Parade-Ground near Cambrai.]

  Alarum within: Excursions over the Stage.

  The [Soldiers disguised as] Lackies running, Maillard

  following them.

  Maillard. Villaines, not hold him when ye had him downe!

  1[st Soldier.] Who can hold lightning? Sdeath a man as well

  Might catch a canon bullet in his mouth,

  And spit it in your hands, as take and hold him.

  Mail. Pursue, enclose him! stand or fall on him, 5

  And yee may take him. Sdeath! they make him guards. Exit.

  Alarum still, and enter Chalon.

  Challon. Stand, cowards, stand; strike, send your bullets at him.

  1[st Soldier.] Wee came to entertaine him, sir, for honour.

  2[d Soldier.] Did ye not say so?

  Chal. Slaves, hee is a traitor;

  Command the horse troopes to over-runne the traitor.

  Exeunt. 10

  Shouts within. Alarum still, and Chambers shot off.

  Then enter Aumall.

  Aumale. What spirit breathes thus in this more then man,

  Turnes flesh to ayre possest, and in a storme

  Teares men about the field like autumne leaves?

  He turnd wilde lightning in the lackies hands,

  Who, though their sodaine violent twitch unhorst him, 15

  Yet when he bore himselfe, their saucie fingers

  Flew as too hot off, as hee had beene fire.

  The ambush then made in, through all whose force

  Hee drave as if a fierce and fire-given canon

  Had spit his iron vomit out amongst them. 20

  The battailes then in two halfe-moones enclos’d him,

  In which he shew’d as if he were the light,

  And they but earth, who, wondring what hee was,

  Shruncke their steele hornes and gave him glorious passe.

  And as a great shot from a towne besieg’d 25

  At foes before it flyes forth blacke and roring,

  But they too farre, and that with waight opprest

  (As if disdaining earth) doth onely grasse,

  Strike earth, and up againe into the ayre,

  Againe sinkes to it, and againe doth rise, 30

  And keepes such strength that when it softliest moves

  It piece-meale shivers any let it proves —

  So flew brave Clermont forth, till breath forsooke him,

  Then fell to earth; and yet (sweet man) even then

  His spirits convulsions made him bound againe 35

  Past all their reaches; till, all motion spent,

  His fixt eyes cast a blaze of such disdaine,

  All stood and star’d, and untouch’d let him lie,

  As something sacred fallen out of the skie. A cry within.

  O now some rude hand hath laid hold on him! 40

  Enter Maillard, Chalon leading Clermont, Captaines and

  Souldiers following.

  See, prisoner led, with his bands honour’d more

  Then all the freedome he enjoy’d before.

  Mail. At length wee have you, sir.

  Clermont. You have much joy too;

  I made you sport. Yet, but I pray you tell mee,

  Are not you perjur’d?

  Mail. No: I swore for the King. 45

  Cler. Yet perjurie, I hope, is perjurie.

  Mail. But thus forswearing is not perjurie.

  You are no politician: not a fault,

  How foule soever, done for private ends,

  Is fault in us sworne to the publike good: 50

  Wee never can be of the damned crew;

  Wee may impolitique our selves (as ‘twere)

  Into the kingdomes body politique,

  Whereof indeede we’re members; you misse termes.

  Cler. The things are yet the same. 55

  Mail. Tis nothing so; the propertie is alter’d:

  Y’are no lawyer. Or say that othe and othe

  Are still the same in number, yet their species

  Differ extreamely, as, for flat example,

  When politique widowes trye men for their turne, 60

  Before they wed them, they are harlots then,

  But when they wed them, they are honest women:

  So private men, when they forsweare, betray,

  Are perjur’d treachers, but being publique once,

  That is, sworne-married to the publique good — 65

  Cler. Are married women publique?

  Mail. Publique good;

  For marriage makes them, being the publique good,

  And could not be without them: so I say

  Men publique, that is, being sworne-married

  To the good publique, being one body made 70

  With the realmes body politique, are no more

  Private, nor can be perjur’d, though forsworne,

  More then a widow married, for the act
r />   Of generation is for that an harlot,

  Because for that shee was so, being unmarried: 75

  An argument a paribus.

  Chal. Tis a shrow’d one.

  Cler. “Who hath no faith to men, to God hath none:”

  Retaine you that, sir? who said so?

  Mail. Twas I.

  Cler. Thy owne tongue damne thy infidelitie!

  But, Captaines all, you know me nobly borne; 80

  Use yee t’assault such men as I with lackyes?

  Chal. They are no lackyes, sir, but souldiers

  Disguis’d in lackyes coates.

  1 Sold. Sir, wee have seene the enemie.

  Cler. Avant! yee rascols, hence!

  Mail. Now leave your coates.

  Cler. Let me not see them more. 85

  Aum. I grieve that vertue lives so undistinguisht

  From vice in any ill, and though the crowne

  Of soveraigne law, shee should be yet her footstoole,

  Subject to censure, all the shame and paine

  Of all her rigor.

  Cler. Yet false policie 90

  Would cover all, being like offenders hid,

  That (after notice taken where they hide)

  The more they crouch and stirre, the more are spide.

  Aum. I wonder how this chanc’d you.

  Cler. Some informer,

  Bloud-hound to mischiefe, usher to the hang-man, 95

  Thirstie of honour for some huge state act,

  Perceiving me great with the worthy Guise,

  And he (I know not why) held dangerous,

  Made me the desperate organe of his danger,

  Onely with that poore colour: tis the common 100

  And more then whore-like tricke of treacherie

  And vermine bred to rapine and to ruine,

  For which this fault is still to be accus’d;

  Since good acts faile, crafts and deceits are us’d.

  If it be other, never pittie mee. 105

  Aum. Sir, we are glad, beleeve it, and have hope

  The King will so conceit it.

  Cler. At his pleasure.

  In meane time, what’s your will, Lord Lieutenant?

  Mail. To leave your owne horse, and to mount the trumpets.

  Cler. It shall be done. This heavily prevents 110

  My purpos’d recreation in these parts;

  Which now I thinke on, let mee begge you, sir,

  To lend me some one captaine of your troopes,

  To beare the message of my haplesse service

  And miserie to my most noble mistresse, 115

  Countesse of Cambray; to whose house this night

  I promist my repaire, and know most truely,

  With all the ceremonies of her favour,

  She sure expects mee.

  Mail. Thinke you now on that?

  Cler. On that, sir? I, and that so worthily, 120

  That if the King, in spight of your great service,

  Would send me instant promise of enlargement,

  Condition I would set this message by,

  I would not take it, but had rather die.

  Aum. Your message shall be done, sir: I, my selfe, 125

  Will be for you a messenger of ill.

  Cler. I thanke you, sir, and doubt not yet to live

  To quite your kindnesse.

  Aum. Meane space use your spirit

  And knowledge for the chearfull patience

  Of this so strange and sodaine consequence. 130

  Cler. Good sir, beleeve that no particular torture

  Can force me from my glad obedience

  To any thing the high and generall Cause,

  To match with his whole fabricke, hath ordainde;

  And know yee all (though farre from all your aymes, 135

  Yet worth them all, and all mens endlesse studies)

  That in this one thing, all the discipline

  Of manners and of manhood is contain’d: —

  A man to joyne himselfe with th’Universe

  In his maine sway, and make (in all things fit) 140

  One with that all, and goe on round as it;

  Not plucking from the whole his wretched part,

  And into straites, or into nought revert,

  Wishing the compleate Universe might be

  Subject to such a ragge of it as hee; 145

  But to consider great Necessitie

  All things, as well refract as voluntarie,

  Reduceth to the prime celestiall cause;

  Which he that yeelds to with a mans applause,

  And cheeke by cheeke goes, crossing it no breath, 150

  But like Gods image followes to the death,

  That man is truely wise, and every thing

  (Each cause and every part distinguishing)

  In nature with enough art understands,

  And that full glory merits at all hands 155

  That doth the whole world at all parts adorne,

  And appertaines to one celestiall borne. Exeunt omnes.

  SCÆNA SECUNDA.

  A Room at the Court in Paris.]

  Enter Baligny, Renel.

  Baligny. So foule a scandall never man sustain’d,

  Which caus’d by th’King is rude and tyrannous:

  Give me a place, and my Lieutenant make

  The filler of it!

  Renel. I should never looke

  For better of him; never trust a man 5

  For any justice, that is rapt with pleasure;

  To order armes well, that makes smockes his ensignes,

  And his whole governments sayles: you heard of late

  Hee had the foure and twenty wayes of venerie

  Done all before him.

  Bal. Twas abhorr’d and beastly. 10

  Ren. Tis more then natures mightie hand can doe

  To make one humane and a letcher too.

  Looke how a wolfe doth like a dogge appeare,

  So like a friend is an adulterer;

  Voluptuaries, and these belly-gods, 15

  No more true men are then so many toads.

  A good man happy is a common good;

  Vile men advanc’d live of the common bloud.

  Bal. Give, and then take, like children!

  Ren. Bounties are

  As soone repented as they happen rare. 20

  Bal. What should Kings doe, and men of eminent places,

  But, as they gather, sow gifts to the graces?

  And where they have given, rather give againe

  (Being given for vertue) then, like babes and fooles,

  Take and repent gifts? why are wealth and power? 25

  Ren. Power and wealth move to tyranny, not bountie;

  The merchant for his wealth is swolne in minde,

  When yet the chiefe lord of it is the winde.

  Bal. That may so chance to our state-merchants too;

  Something performed, that hath not farre to goe. 30

  Ren. That’s the maine point, my lord; insist on that.

  Bal. But doth this fire rage further? hath it taken

  The tender tynder of my wifes sere bloud?

  Is shee so passionate?

  Ren. So wilde, so mad,

  Shee cannot live and this unwreakt sustaine. 35

  The woes are bloudy that in women raigne.

  The Sicile gulfe keepes feare in lesse degree;

  There is no tyger not more tame then shee.

  Bal. There is no looking home, then?

  Ren. Home! Medea

  With all her hearbs, charmes, thunders, lightning, 40

  Made not her presence and blacke hants more dreadfull.

  Bal. Come, to the King; if he reforme not all,

  Marke the event, none stand where that must fall. Exeunt.

  SCÆNA TERTIA.

  A Room in the House of the Countess of Cambrai.]

  Enter Countesse, Riova, and an Usher.

  Usher. Madame, a captaine come from Clermont
D’Ambois

  Desires accesse to you.

  Countess. And not himselfe?

  Ush. No, madame.

  Count. That’s not well. Attend him in.

  Exit Ush[er].

  The last houre of his promise now runne out!

  And hee breake, some brack’s in the frame of nature 5

  That forceth his breach.

  Enter Usher and Aumal.

  Aumale. Save your ladiship!

  Coun. All welcome! Come you from my worthy servant?

  Aum. I, madame, and conferre such newes from him —

  Coun. Such newes! what newes?

  Aum. Newes that I wish some other had the charge of. 10

  Coun. O, what charge? what newes?

  Aum. Your ladiship must use some patience,

  Or else I cannot doe him that desire

  He urg’d with such affection to your graces.

  Coun. Doe it, for heavens love, doe it! if you serve 15

  His kinde desires, I will have patience.

  Is hee in health?

  Aum. He is.

  Count. Why, that’s the ground

  Of all the good estate wee hold in earth;

  All our ill built upon that is no more

  Then wee may beare, and should; expresse it all. 20

  Aum. Madame, tis onely this; his libertie —

  Coun. His libertie! Without that health is nothing.

  Why live I, but to aske in doubt of that?

  Is that bereft him?

  Aum. You’ll againe prevent me.

  Coun. No more, I sweare; I must heare, and together 25

  Come all my miserie! Ile hold, though I burst.

  Aum. Then, madame, thus it fares; he was envited,

  By way of honour to him, to take view

  Of all the powers his brother Baligny

  Hath in his government; which rang’d in battailes, 30

  Maillard, Lieutenant to the Governour,

  Having receiv’d strickt letters from the King,

  To traine him to the musters and betray him

  To their supprise; which, with Chalon in chiefe,

  And other captaines (all the field put hard 35

  By his incredible valour for his scape)

  They haplesly and guiltlesly perform’d;

  And to Bastile hee’s now led prisoner.

  Count. What change is here! how are my hopes prevented!

  O my most faithfull servant, thou betraid! 40

  Will Kings make treason lawfull? Is societie

  (To keepe which onely Kings were first ordain’d)

  Lesse broke in breaking faith twixt friend and friend

  Then twixt the King and subject? let them feare

  Kings presidents in licence lacke no danger. 45

  Kings are compar’d to Gods, and should be like them,

  Full in all right, in nought superfluous,