Read Ebook: Bussy D'Ambois and The Revenge of Bussy D'Ambois by Chapman George Boas Frederick S Frederick Samuel Editor

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LINENOTES:

BEHEMOTH, } CARTOPHYLAX, } Spirits. UMBRA OF FRIAR.

ELENOR, Duchess of Guise. TAMYRA, Countess of Montsurry. BEAUPRE, niece to ELENOR. ANNABLE, maid to ELENOR. PERO, maid to TAMYRA. CHARLOTTE, maid to BEAUPRE. PYRA, a court lady. Courtiers, Ladies, Pages, Servants, Spirits, &c.

FOOTNOTES:

Many episodes in Bussy D'Ambois's career, which took place in the Province of Anjou, are transferred in the play to Paris.

Bussy D'Ambois

A Tragedie

ACTUS PRIMI SCENA PRIMA.

There is no second place in numerous state That holds more than a cypher: in a King 35 All places are contain'd. His words and looks Are like the flashes and the bolts of Jove; His deeds inimitable, like the sea That shuts still as it opes, and leaves no tracts, Nor prints of president for meane mens facts: 40 There's but a thred betwixt me and a crowne; I would not wish it cut, unlesse by nature; Yet to prepare me for that possible fortune, 'Tis good to get resolved spirits about mee. I follow'd D'Ambois to this greene retreat; 45 A man of spirit beyond the reach of feare, Who Neglects the light, and loves obscure abodes; But hee is young and haughty, apt to take Fire at advancement, to beare state, and flourish; 50 In his rise therefore shall my bounties shine: None lothes the world so much, nor loves to scoffe it, But gold and grace will make him surfet of it. What, D'Ambois!--

Stay but a while here, and I'le send to thee.

Humor of Princes! Is this wretch indu'd With any merit worth a thousand crownes? 145 Will my lord have me be so ill a steward Of his revenue, to dispose a summe So great, with so small cause as shewes in him? I must examine this. Is your name D'Ambois?

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And t'unfold their Art Learne to commit them, Tis a great mans Part.

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

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ACTUS SECUND SCENA PRIMA.

Such a life 105 Me thinks had mettall in it to survive An age of men.

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D'Ambois is pardond! wher's a King? where law? See how it runnes, much like a turbulent sea; 25 Heere high and glorious, as it did contend To wash the heavens, and make the stars more pure; And heere so low, it leaves the mud of hell To every common view. Come, Count Montsurry, We must consult of this.

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See, see the gulfe is opening that will swallow Me and my fame forever; I will in.

ACTUS TERTII SCENA PRIMA.

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My sweet heart! How now? what leap'st thou at?

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Where his custome is To beat his vault, and he ruts with his hinde.

I have already broke the ice, my lord, With the most trusted woman of your Countesse, And hope I shall wade through to our discovery.

I will conceale all yet, and give more time To D'Ambois triall, now upon my hooke; He awes my throat; else, like Sybillas cave, It should breath oracles; I feare him strangely, And may resemble his advanced valour Unto a spirit rais'd without a circle, Endangering him that ignorantly rais'd him, And for whose furie he hath learn'd no limit.

ACTUS QUARTI SCENA PRIMA.

LINENOTES:

Sweete lord, cleare up those eies, for shame of noblesse: Mercilesse creature; but it is enough.

Be not nice For any trifle, jeweld with your honour, To pawne your honor.

No, be still and see.

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ACTUS QUINTI SCENA PRIMA.

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Good father cease: your terrors Tempt not a man distracted.

Away, my lord; you are perfectly disguis'd; Leave us to lodge your ambush.

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In whose hot zeale a man would thinke they knew What they ranne so away with, and were sure To have rewards proportion'd to their labours; Yet may implore their owne confusions For anything they know, which oftentimes It fals out they incurre.

Blesse me, heaven!

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Will it not enter here? 45 You have a face yet. So! in thy lifes flame I burne the first rites to my mistresse fame.

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Revive those stupid thoughts, and sit not thus, Gathering the horrors of your servants slaughter Into an idle fancie; but devise.

My terrors are strook inward, and no more My pennance will allow they shall enforce Earthly afflictions but upon my selfe.

Since thy revengefull spirit hath rejected The charitie it commands, and the remission To serve and worship the blind rage of bloud.

My soule more scruple breeds than my bloud sinne, Vertue imposeth more than any stepdame.

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