Part 8

And to your deserts The reverend vertues of a faithfull steward.

196 pleasant. A, merrie.

197 berlady. A, beleeve it.

199 his Grace. A, my Lord.

208-210. How . . . D'Amboys. A omits.

212 If you be thriftie, and. A, Serve God.

A room in the Court.]

Henry, Guise, Montsurry, Elenor, Tamyra, Beaupre, Pero, Charlotte, Pyra, Annable.

Henry. Duchesse of Guise, your Grace is much enricht In the attendance of that English virgin, That will initiate her prime of youth, (Dispos'd to Court conditions) under the hand Of your prefer'd instructions and command, 5 Rather than any in the English Court, Whose ladies are not matcht in Christendome For gracefull and confirm'd behaviours, More than the Court, where they are bred, is equall'd.

Guise. I like not their Court-fashion; it is too crestfalne 10 In all observance, making demi-gods Of their great nobles; and of their old Queene An ever-yong and most immortall goddesse.

Montsurry. No question shee's the rarest Queene in Europe.

Guis. But what's that to her immortality? 15

Henr. Assure you, cosen Guise, so great a courtier, So full of majestic and roiall parts, No Queene in Christendome may vaunt her selfe. Her Court approves it: that's a Court indeed, Not mixt with clowneries us'd in common houses; 20 But, as Courts should be th'abstracts of their Kingdomes, In all the beautie, state, and worth they hold, So is hers, amplie, and by her inform'd. The world is not contracted in a man, With more proportion and expression, 25 Than in her Court, her kingdome. Our French Court Is a meere mirror of confusion to it: The king and subject, lord and every slave, Dance a continuall haie; our roomes of state Kept like our stables; no place more observ'd 30 Than a rude market-place: and though our custome Keepe this assur'd confusion from our eyes, 'Tis nere the lesse essentially unsightly, Which they would soone see, would they change their forme To this of ours, and then compare them both; 35 Which we must not affect, because in kingdomes, Where the Kings change doth breed the subjects terror, Pure innovation is more grosse than error.

Mont. No question we shall see them imitate (Though a farre off) the fashions of our Courts, 40 As they have ever ap't us in attire; Never were men so weary of their skins, And apt to leape out of themselves as they; Who, when they travell to bring forth rare men, Come home delivered of a fine French suit: 45 Their braines lie with their tailors, and get babies For their most compleat issue; hee's sole heire To all the morall vertues that first greetes The light with a new fashion, which becomes them Like apes, disfigur'd with the attires of men. 50

Henr. No question they much wrong their reall worth In affectation of outlandish scumme; But they have faults, and we more: they foolish-proud To jet in others plumes so haughtely; We proud that they are proud of foolerie, 55 Holding our worthes more compleat for their vaunts.

Enter Monsieur, D'Ambois.

Monsieur. Come, mine owne sweet heart, I will enter thee. Sir, I have brought a gentleman to court; And pray, you would vouchsafe to doe him grace.

Henr. D'Ambois, I thinke.

Bussy. That's still my name, my lord, 60 Though I be something altered in attire.

Henr. We like your alteration, and must tell you, We have expected th'offer of your service; For we (in feare to make mild vertue proud) Use not to seeke her out in any man. 65

Buss. Nor doth she use to seeke out any man: He that will winne, must wooe her: she's not shameless.

Mons. I urg'd her modestie in him, my lord, And gave her those rites that he sayes shee merits.

Henr. If you have woo'd and won, then, brother, weare him. 70

Mons. Th'art mine, sweet heart! See, here's the Guises Duches; The Countesse of Mountsurreaue, Beaupre. Come, I'le enseame thee. Ladies, y'are too many To be in counsell: I have here a friend That I would gladly enter in your graces. 75

Buss. 'Save you, ladyes!

Duchess. If you enter him in our graces, my lord, me thinkes, by his blunt behaviour he should come out of himselfe.

Tamyra. Has he never beene courtier, my 80 lord?

Mons. Never, my lady.