Enter Duke, Cosin, Wife, Jaques, Man.
Duke. Come let me see how all things are dispos'd of.
Jaq. One Cart will serve for all your furniture,
With room enough behind to ease the Footman,
A capcase for [you[r] linnen, and your plate,
With a strange lock that opens with Amen,
For my young Lord, because of easie portage,
A quiver of your graces lin'd with Cunney,
Made to be hang'd about the Nurses neck,
Thus, with a Scarfe or Towel.
Duke. Very good.
Jaq. Nay, 'tis well, but had you staid another week,
I would have had [you furnisht, in] such pomp,
As never Duke of Burgundy was furnisht,
You should have had a Sumpter, though 't had cost me
The laying on my self, where now you are fain,
To hire a Rippers mare, and buy new dossers,
But I have got them painted with your Arms,
With a fair darnex Carpet of my own
Laid cross for the more state.
Duke. Jaques I thank you: your Carpet shall be brusht
And sent you home; what, are you ready wife?
Duc. An hour ago.
Duke. I cannot chuse but kiss thy royal Lips,
Dear Duchess mine, thou art so good a woman.
Bew. Youl'd say so if you knew all, goodman Duckling.
Cos. This was the happiest fortune could befal me
Now in his absence will I follow close
Mine own preferment, and I hope e'r long,
To make my mean and humble name so strong,
As my great Cosins, when the world shall know,
I bear too hot a spirit to live low.
The next Spring will I down, my wife and houshold,
I'll have my Ushers, and my four Lacquies,
Six spare Caroches too, but mum, no more,
What I intend to do, I'll keep in store.
Duke. Mountey, mountey, Jaques, be our Querry.
Groom. To horse there Gentlemen, and fall in couples.
Duke. Come honoured Duchess.
Enter Longavile.
Long. Stand thou proud man.
Duke. Thieves, Jaques, raise the people.
Long. No, raise no people, 'tis the Kings command,
Which bids thee once more stand, thou haughty man,
Thou art a monster, for thou art ungrateful,
And like a fellow of a rebel nature,
Hast flung from his embraces: and for
His honors given thee, hast not return'd
So much as thanks, and to oppose his Will,
Resolv'd to leave the Court, and set the Realm
A fire, in discontent, and open action:
Therefore he bids thee stand, thou proud man,
Whilst with the whisking of my sword about,
I take thy honors off: this first sad whisk
Takes off thy Dukedom, thou art but an Earl.
Duke. You are mistaken, Longavile.
Long. Oh would I were: this second whisk divides
Thy Earldom from thee, thou art yet a Baron.
Duke. No more whisks if you love me Longavile.
Long. Two whisks are past, and two are yet behind,
Yet all must come, but not to linger time.
With these two whisks I end, now mount Marine,
For thou art now no more, so says the King,
And I have done his Highness Will with grief.
Duke. [Degraded] from my honors?
Long. 'Tis too certain.
Duke. I am no Traitor sure, that I know of;
Speak Jaques, hast thou ever heard me utter word
Tending to Treason, or to bring in the enemy?
Jaq. Alas Sir, I know nothing,
Why should your Worship bring me in to hang me?
[God's my judge Gentlemen] I never medled
But with the brushing of his cloaths, or fetching
In water in a morning for his hands.
Cos. Are these the honors of this place? Anthony
Help me to take her Gown off quickly,
Or I'll so swinge ye for't—
Wife. Why Husband? Sir?
Cos. I'll not loose a penny by this town.
Long. Why what do you mean, Sir, have her to her lodging,
And there undress her, I will wait upon her.
Cos. Indeed you shall not, your month is out I take it,
Get you out before me wife:
Cosin farewel, I told you long agoe,
That pride begins with pleasure, ends with woe. [Exit with's Wife.
Bew. Goe thy way sentences, 'twill be thy fortune,
To live and dye a Cuckold, and Churchwarden.
Duc. Oh my poor Husband! what a heavy fortune
Is fallen upon him!
Bew. Methinks 'tis strange,
That heaven fore-warning great men of their falls,
With such plain tokens, they should not avoid ['em:]
For the last night betwixt eleven and twelve,
Two great and hideous blazing stars were seen
To fight a long hour by the clock, the one
Drest like a Duke, the other like a King;
Till at the last the crowned Star o'er-came.
Serv. Why do ye stand so dead, Monsieur Marine?
Duke. So Cæsar fell, when in the Capitol
They gave his body two and thirty wounds.
Be warned all ye Peers, and by my fall,
Hereafter learn to let your wives rule all.
Serv. Monsieur Marine, pray let me speak with you;
Sir, I must wave you to conceal this party,
It stands upon my utter overthrow;
Seem not discontented, nor do not stir afoot,
For if you do, you and your hope—
I swear you are a lost man if you stir.
And have an eye to Bewford, he'll tempt you.
Bew. Come, come, for shame go down;
Were I Marine, [by heaven] I would go down:
And being there, I would rattle him such an answer
Should make him smoke.
Duke. Good Monsieur Bewford, peace
Leave these rebellious words,
Or by the honors which I once enjoyed,
And yet may swear by,
I'll tell the King of your proceedings;
I am satisfied.
Wife. You talkt of going down when 'twas not fit,
But now let's see your spirit,
A thousand and a thousand will expect it.
Duke. Why wife, are ye mad?
Wife. No, nor drunk, but I'd have you know your own strength.
Duke. You talke like a most foolish woman, wife;
I tell you I will stay, yet I have a
Crotchet troubles me.
Long. More crotchets yet?
Duke. Follow me Jaques, I must have thy counsel,
I will return again, stay you there wife.
Long. I fear this loss of honor will give him some few stools.
Wif. No, no, he is resolv'd, he will not
Stir a foot, I'll lay my life.
Bew. I, but he's discontented, how shall we resolve that,
And make him stay with comfort?
Wife. Faith Bewford we must even let nature work,
For he's the sweetest temper'd man for that
As one can wish, for let men but go about to fool him,
And he'll have his finger as deep in't as the best;
But see where he comes frowning, bless us all!
Enter Duke.
Duke. Off with your hats, for here doth come
The high and mighty Duke of Burgundy.
What ever you may think, I have thought
And thought, and thought upon't, and I find it plain,
The King cannot take back what he has given,
Unless I forfeit it by course of Law.
Not all the water in the River Seine,
Can wash the blood out of these Princely veins.
Wife. God-a-mercy Husband, thou art the best
To work out a thing at a pinch in France.
Duke. I will ascend my State again,
Duchess, take your place,
And let our Champion enter.
Long. Has he his Champion? that's excellent.
Duke. And let loud Musick sound before his entrance.
Sound Trumpet.
Enter Jaques in Armor, one carrying a Scutcheon before him, and a two-handed Sword.
Wife. How well our Champion doth demean himself,
As if he had been made for such an action?
Methinks his sturdy truncheon he doth weild,
Like Mars approaching to a bloody field.
Duke. I think there's no man so desperate
To dare encounter with our Champion,
But trust me, Jaques, thou hast pleas'd us well;
Once more our warlike Musick, then proceed.
Enter Shattillion.
Shat. What wondrous age is this! what close proceedings!
I hear the clang of Trumpets in this house,
To what intent do not our States-men search?
Oh no, they look not into simple truth;
For I am true, and they regard not me,
A man in Armor too: God save the King,
The world will end, there's nought but treachery.
Jaq. I Jaques, servant to the high and mighty Godfrey,
Duke of Burgundy, do come hither to prove by natural
strength, and activity of my body, without the help of sorcery,
inchantment, or negromancy, that the said Godfrey,
late of Mount Marine, and now of Burgundy, hath perfect
right thereto, notwithstanding the Kings command to the
contrary, and no other person whatsoever: and in token
that I will be ready to make good the same: I throw down
my gage, which is my honor, pronounced the 37 of Feb.
Stilo novo, God save the Duke.
Shat. Of all the plots the King hath laid for me
This was the shrewdest, 'tis my life they seek
And they shall have it: if I should refuse
To accept the challenge in the Kings behalf,
They have some cause to take away my life,
And if I do accept it, who can tell,
But I may fall by doubtful chance of War?
'Twas shrew'd, but I must take the least of evils,
I take thy gauntlet up, thou treacherous man,
That stands in armed Coat against the King.
Whom God preserve, and with my single sword,
Will justifie whatever he commands;
I'll watch him for catching of my words.
Duke. Jaques go on, defend our Princely Title.
Shat. Why shrink'st thou back? thou hast an evil cause;
Come forward man, I have a rock about me,
I fight for my true Liege.
Duke. Go forward Jaques.
Jaq. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
I will not fight with him, with any else
I'll shew my resolution speedily.
Shat. Come, do thy worst, for the King shall see
All is not true, that is reported of me.
Jaq. I may not fight with him by Law of Arms.
Duke. What? shall my Title fall? wilt thou not fight?
Jaq. Never with him that once hath sav'd my life.
Shat. Dar'st thou not fight? behold then, I do go
Strong with the zeal I bear my Sovereign,
And seize upon that haughty man himself.
Descend the steps (that thou hast thus usurp'd
Against the King and State,) down to the ground,
And if thou do utter but a syllable
To cross the Kings intent, thou art but dead;
There, lye upon the earth, and pine, and dye.
Did ever any man wade through such storms
To save his life, as poor Shattillion?
Long. I fear this challenge hath spoil'd all.
Duc. Ne'er fear it, he'll work it out again, servant.
See where Shattillion's Love, poor Lady, comes.