Part 58

Gui. How stands the state of Cambray?

Bal. Strong, my lord, And fit for service: for whose readinesse Your creature, Clermont D'Ambois, and my selfe Ride shortly downe.

Gui. That Clermont is my love; 80 France never bred a nobler gentleman For all parts; he exceeds his brother Bussy.

Bal. I, my lord?

Gui. Farre: because (besides his valour) Hee hath the crowne of man and all his parts, Which Learning is; and that so true and vertuous 85 That it gives power to doe as well as say What ever fits a most accomplisht man; Which Bussy, for his valours season, lackt; And so was rapt with outrage oftentimes Beyond decorum; where this absolute Clermont, 90 Though (onely for his naturall zeale to right) Hee will be fiery, when hee sees it crost, And in defence of it, yet when he lists Hee can containe that fire, as hid in embers.

Bal. No question, hee's a true, learn'd gentleman. 95

Gui. He is as true as tides, or any starre Is in his motion; and for his rare learning, Hee is not (as all else are that seeke knowledge) Of taste so much deprav'd that they had rather Delight and satisfie themselves to drinke 100 Of the streame troubled, wandring ne'er so farre From the cleare fount, then of the fount it selfe. In all, Romes Brutus is reviv'd in him, Whom hee of industry doth imitate; Or rather, as great Troys Euphorbus was 105 After Pithagoras, so is Brutus, Clermont. And, were not Brutus a conspirator--

Bal. Conspirator, my lord! Doth that empaire him? Caesar beganne to tyrannize; and when vertue, Nor the religion of the Gods, could serve 110 To curbe the insolence of his proud lawes, Brutus would be the Gods just instrument. What said the Princesse, sweet Antigone, In the grave Greeke tragedian, when the question Twixt her and Creon is for lawes of Kings? 115 Which when he urges, shee replies on him Though his lawes were a Kings, they were not Gods; Nor would shee value Creons written lawes With Gods unwrit edicts, since they last not This day and the next, but every day and ever, 120 Where Kings lawes alter every day and houre, And in that change imply a bounded power.

Gui. Well, let us leave these vaine disputings what Is to be done, and fall to doing something. When are you for your government in Cambray? 125

Bal. When you command, my lord.

Gui. Nay, that's not fit. Continue your designements with the King, With all your service; onely, if I send, Respect me as your friend, and love my Clermont.

Bal. Your Highnesse knowes my vowes.

Gui. I, tis enough. 130 Exit Guise. Manet Bal.

Impossible est viri cognoscere mentem ac voluntatem, priusquam in Magistratibus apparet.

Sopho. Antig.]

Bal. Thus must wee play on both sides, and thus harten In any ill those men whose good wee hate. Kings may doe what they list, and for Kings, subjects, Eyther exempt from censure or exception; For, as no mans worth can be justly judg'd 135 But when he shines in some authoritie, So no authoritie should suffer censure But by a man of more authoritie. Great vessels into lesse are emptied never, There's a redoundance past their continent ever. 140 These virtuosi are the poorest creatures; For looke how spinners weave out of themselves Webs, whose strange matter none before can see; So these, out of an unseene good in vertue, Make arguments of right and comfort in her, 145 That clothe them like the poore web of a spinner.

Enter Clermont.

Clermont. Now, to my challenge. What's the place, the weapon?

Bal. Soft, sir! let first your challenge be received. Hee would not touch, nor see it.

Cler. Possible! How did you then?

Bal. Left it, in his despight. 150 But when hee saw mee enter so expectlesse, To heare his base exclaimes of "murther, murther," Made mee thinke noblesse lost, in him quicke buried.

Epict.]

Cler. They are the breathing sepulchres of noblesse: No trulier noble men then lions pictures, 155 Hung up for signes, are lions. Who knowes not That lyons the more soft kept, are more servile? And looke how lyons close kept, fed by hand, Lose quite th'innative fire of spirit and greatnesse That lyons free breathe, forraging for prey, 160 And grow so grosse that mastifes, curs, and mungrils Have spirit to cow them: so our soft French Nobles Chain'd up in ease and numbd securitie (Their spirits shrunke up like their covetous fists, And never opened but Domitian-like, 165 And all his base, obsequious minions When they were catching though it were but flyes), Besotted with their pezzants love of gaine, Rusting at home, and on each other preying, Are for their greatnesse but the greater slaves, 170 And none is noble but who scrapes and saves.

Bal. Tis base, tis base; and yet they thinke them high.

Cler. So children mounted on their hobby-horse Thinke they are riding, when with wanton toile They beare what should beare them. A man may well 175 Compare them to those foolish great-spleen'd cammels, That to their high heads beg'd of Jove hornes higher; Whose most uncomely and ridiculous pride When hee had satisfied, they could not use, But where they went upright before, they stoopt, 180 And bore their heads much lower for their hornes: Simil[iter.] As these high men doe, low in all true grace, Their height being priviledge to all things base. And as the foolish poet that still writ All his most selfe-lov'd verse in paper royall, 185 Or partchment rul'd with lead, smooth'd with the pumice, Bound richly up, and strung with crimson strings; Never so blest as when hee writ and read The ape-lov'd issue of his braine; and never But joying in himselfe, admiring ever: 190 Yet in his workes behold him, and hee show'd Like to a ditcher. So these painted men, All set on out-side, looke upon within, And not a pezzants entrailes you shall finde More foule and mezel'd, nor more sterv'd of minde. 195

Bal. That makes their bodies fat. I faine would know How many millions of our other Nobles Would make one Guise. There is a true tenth Worthy, Who, did not one act onely blemish him--

Cler. One act! what one?

Bal. One that (though yeeres past done) 200 Stickes by him still, and will distaine him ever.