Bussy D'Ambois and The Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois Part 42

_1[st Soldier.]_ That were much.

_Chal._ Tis true; 5 You two must doe, or enter, what our armie Is now in field for.

_2[d Sol.]_ I see then our guerdon Must be the deede it selfe, twill be such honour.

_Chal._ What fight souldiers most for?

_1[st Sol.]_ Honour onely.

_Chal._ Yet here are crownes beside.

_Ambo._ We thanke you, Captaine. 10

_2[d Sol.]_ Now, sir, how show wee?

_Chal._ As you should at all parts.

Goe now to Clermont D'Ambois, and informe him, Two battailes are set ready in his honour, And stay his presence onely for their signall, When they shall joyne; and that, t'attend him hither 15 Like one wee so much honour, wee have sent him--

_1[st Sol.]_ Us two in person.

_Chal._ Well, sir, say it so; And having brought him to the field, when I Fall in with him, saluting, get you both Of one side of his horse, and plucke him downe, 20 And I with th'ambush laid will second you.

_1[st Sol.]_ Nay, we shall lay on hands of too much strength To neede your secondings.

_2[d Sol.]_ I hope we shall.

Two are enough to encounter Hercules.

_Chal._ Tis well said, worthy souldiers; hast, and hast him.

[_Exeunt._] 25

LINENOTES:

_Exeunt._ Q, Exit.

[SCaeNA QUARTA.

_A Room in the Governor's Castle at Cambrai._]

_Enter Clermont, Maillard close following him._

_Clermont._ My Scotch horse to their armie--

_Maillard._ Please you, sir?

_Cler._ Sdeath! you're pa.s.sing diligent.

_Mail._ Of my soule, Tis onely in my love to honour you With what would grace the King: but since I see You still sustaine a jealous eye on mee, 5 Ile goe before.

_Cler._ Tis well; Ile come; my hand.

_Mail._ Your hand, sir! Come, your word; your choise be us'd.

_Exit._

_Clermont solus._

_Cler._ I had an aversation to this voyage, When first my brother mov'd it, and have found That native power in me was never vaine; 10 Yet now neglected it. I wonder much At my inconstancie in these decrees I every houre set downe to guide my life.

When Homer made Achilles pa.s.sionate, Wrathfull, revengefull, and insatiate 15 In his affections, what man will denie He did compose it all of industrie To let men see that men of most renowne, Strong'st, n.o.blest, fairest, if they set not downe Decrees within them, for disposing these, 20 Of judgement, resolution, uprightnesse, And certaine knowledge of their use and ends, Mishap and miserie no lesse extends To their destruction, with all that they pris'd, Then to the poorest and the most despis'd? 25

_Enter Renel._

_Renel._ Why, how now, friend, retir'd! take heede you prove not Dismaid with this strange fortune. All observe you: Your government's as much markt as the Kings.

What said a friend to Pompey?

_Cler._ What?

_Ren._ The people Will never know, unlesse in death thou trie, 30 That thou know'st how to beare adversitie.

_Cler._ I shall approve how vile I value feare Of death at all times; but to be too rash, Without both will and care to shunne the worst, (It being in power to doe well and with cheere) 35 Is stupid negligence and worse then feare.

_Ren._ Suppose this true now.

_Cler._ No, I cannot doo't.

My sister truely said, there hung a taile Of circ.u.mstance so blacke on that supposure, That to sustaine it thus abhorr'd our mettall. 40 And I can shunne it too, in spight of all, Not going to field; and there to, being so mounted As I will, since I goe.

_Ren._ You will then goe?

_Cler._ I am engag'd both in my word and hand.

But this is it that makes me thus retir'd, 45 To call my selfe t'account, how this affaire Is to be manag'd, if the worst should chance: With which I note, how dangerous it is For any man to prease beyond the place To which his birth, or meanes, or knowledge ties him. 50 For my part, though of n.o.ble birth, my birthright Had little left it, and I know tis better To live with little, and to keepe within A mans owne strength still, and in mans true end, Then runne a mixt course. Good and bad hold never 55 Any thing common; you can never finde Things outward care, but you neglect your minde.

G.o.d hath the whole world perfect made and free; His parts to th'use of th'All. Men, then, that are Parts of that All, must, as the generall sway 60 Of that importeth, willingly obay In every thing without their power to change.

Hee that, unpleas'd to hold his place, will range, Can in no other be contain'd that's fit, And so resisting th'All is crusht with it: 65 But he that knowing how divine a frame The whole world is, and of it all can name (Without selfe-flatterie) no part so divine As hee himselfe; and therefore will confine Freely his whole powers in his proper part, 70 Goes on most G.o.d-like. Hee that strives t'invert The Universals course with his poore way, Not onely dust-like shivers with the sway, But crossing G.o.d in his great worke, all earth Beares not so cursed and so d.a.m.n'd a birth. 75

_Ren._ Goe on; Ile take no care what comes of you; Heaven will not see it ill, how ere it show.

But the pretext to see these battailes rang'd Is much your honour.

_Cler._ As the world esteemes it.

But to decide that, you make me remember 80 An accident of high and n.o.ble note, And fits the subject of my late discourse Of holding on our free and proper way.

I over-tooke, comming from Italie, In Germanie a great and famous Earle 85 Of England, the most goodly fashion'd man I ever saw; from head to foote in forme Rare and most absolute; hee had a face Like one of the most ancient honour'd Romanes From whence his n.o.blest familie was deriv'd; 90 He was beside of spirit pa.s.sing great, Valiant, and learn'd, and liberall as the sunne, Spoke and writ sweetly, or of learned subjects, Or of the discipline of publike weales; And t'was the Earle of Oxford: and being offer'd 95 At that time, by Duke Ca.s.simere, the view Of his right royall armie then in field, Refus'd it, and no foote was mov'd to stirre Out of his owne free fore-determin'd course.

I, wondring at it, askt for it his reason, 100 It being an offer so much for his honour.

Hee, all acknowledging, said t'was not fit To take those honours that one cannot quit.

_Ren._ Twas answer'd like the man you have describ'd.

_Cler._ And yet he cast it onely in the way, 105 To stay and serve the world. Nor did it fit His owne true estimate how much it waigh'd; For hee despis'd it, and esteem'd it freer To keepe his owne way straight, and swore that hee Had rather make away his whole estate 110 In things that crost the vulgar then he would Be frozen up stiffe (like a Sir John Smith, His countrey-man) in common n.o.bles fashions; Affecting, as't the end of n.o.blesse were, Those servile observations.

_Ren._ It was strange. 115