Part 14

_Ser._ My business is with you, Sir; 'tis reported, I know not whether by some enemy Maliciously, that envies your great hopes, And would be ready to sow discontents Betwixt his Majesty, and you, or truely, Which on my faith I would be sorry for, That you intend to leave the Court in haste.

_Gen._ Faith, Sir, within this half hour. _Jaques_?

_Jaques within:_ Sir?

_Gent._ Is my Wife ready?

_Ja._ Presently.

_Ser._ But Sir, I needs must tell you, as I am your friend, You should have ta'en your journey privater, For 'tis already blaz'd about the Court.

_Gen._ Why Sir, I hope it is no Treason, is it?

_Ser._ 'Tis true, Sir, but 'tis grown the common talk, There's no discovery else held, and in the presence All the Nobility and Gentry, Have nothing in their mouths but only this, _Monsieur Marine_, that noble Gentleman, Is now departing hence: every Mans face Looks ghastly on his fellows; such a sadness (Before this day) I ne'er beheld in Court, Mens hearts begin to fail them when they hear it, In expectation of the great event That needs must follow it, pray Heaven it be good!

_Gen._ Why, I had rather all their hearts should fail, Than I stay here until my purse fail me.

_Ser._ But yet you are a Subject, and beware, I charge you by the love I bear to you, How you do venture rashly on a course, To make your Sovereign jealous of your deeds, For Princes jealousies, where they love most, Are easily found, but they be hardly lost.

_Gen._ Come, these are tricks, I smell 'em, I will goe.

_Ser._ Have I not still profest my self your friend?

_Gen._ Yes, but you never shewd it to me yet.

_Ser._ But now I will, because I see you wise, And give ye thus much light into a business, That came to me but now, be resolute, Stand stifly to it that you will depart, And presently.

_Gen._ Why so I mean to doe.

_Ser._ And by this light you may be what you will; Will you be secret, Sir?

_Gen._ Why? What's the matter?

_Ser._ The King does fear you.

_Gent._ How?

_Ser._ And is now in Counsel;

_Gent._ About me?

_Ser._ About you, and you be wise, You'll find he's in Counsel about you: His Counsellors have told him all the truth.

_Gent._ What truth?

_Ser._ Why, that which now he knows too well.

_Gent._ What is't?

_Ser._ That you have followed him seven years, With a great train: and though he have not grac't you, Yet you have div'd into the hearts of thousands, With liberality and noble carriage; And if you should depart home unprefer'd, All discontented, and seditious spirits Would flock to you, and thrust you into action: With whose help, and your Tenants, who doth not know (If you were so dispos'd:) How great a part of this yet fertile peaceful Realm of _France_ You might make desolate? but when the King Heard this--

_Gent._ What said he?

_Ser._ Nothing, but shook, As never Christian Prince did shake before. And to be short, you may be what you will But be not ambitious Sir, sit down With moderate honors, least you make your self More fear'd.

_Gent._ I know, Sir, what I have to doe In mine own business.

_Enter_ Longavile.

_Long._ Where's _Monsieur Mount Marine_?

_Ser._ Why there he stands, will you ought with him?

_Long._ Yes: Good day _Monsieur Marine_.

_Gent._ Good day to you.

_Long._ His Majesty doth commend himself, Most kindly to you Sir, and hath, by me, Sent you this favor: kneel down, rise a Knight.

_Gent._ I thank his Majesty.

_Long._ And he doth further request you, Not to leave the Court so soon, For though your former merits have been slighted, After this time there shall no Office fall; Worthy your spirit, as he doth confess There's none so great, but you shall surely have it.

_Ser._ Do you hear? if you yield yet you are an ass.

_Gent._ I'll shew my service to his Majesty In greater things than these, but for this small one I must intreat his Highness to excuse me.

_Long._ I'll bear your Knightly words unto the King, And bring his Princely answer back again. [_Exit_ Long.

_Ser._ Well said, be resolute a while, I know There is a tide of honors coming on. I warrant you.

_Enter_ Bewford.

_Bew._ Where is this new made Knight?

_Gent._ Here, Sir.

_Bew._ Let me enfold you in my arms, Then call you Lord, the King will have it so, Who doth entreat your Lordship to remember His Message sent to you by _Longavile_.

_Ser._ If ye be durty, and dare not mount aloft; You may yield now, I know what I would do.

_Gent._ Peace, I will fit him; tell his Majesty I am a Subject, and I do confess I serve a gracious Prince, that thus hath heapt Honors on me without desert, but yet As for the Message, business urgeth me, I must be gone, and he must pardon me, Were he ten thousand Kings and Emperors.

_Bew._ I'll tell him so.

_Ser._ Why, this was like your self.

_Bew._ As he hath wrought him, 'tis the finest fellow That e're was Christmas Lord, he carries it So truely to the life, as though he were One of the plot to gull himself. [_Exit_ Bewf.

_Ser._ Why so, you sent the wisest and the shrewdest answer Unto the King, I swear, my honored friend, That ever any Subject sent his Liege.

_Gent._ Nay now I know I have him on the hip, I'll follow it.

_Enter_ Longavile.

_Long._ My honorable Lord, Give me your noble hand right courteous Peer, And from henceforth be a courtly Earl; The King so wills, and Subjects must obey: Only he doth desire you to consider Of his request.

_Ser._ Why faith you'r well my Lord, yield to him.

_Gent._ Yield? why 'twas my plot.

_Ser._ Nay, 'twas your Wives plot.

_Gent._ To get preferment by it, And thinks he now to pop me i'th' mouth But with an Earldome? I'll be one step higher.

_Ser._ 'Tis the finest Lord, I am afraid anon He will stand upon't to share the Kingdom with him.

_Enter_ Bewford.

_Bew._ Where's this Courtly Earl? His Majesty commends his love unto you; And will you but now grant to his request, He bids you be a Duke, and chuse of whence.

_Ser._ Why if you yield not now, you are undone, What can you wish to have more, but the Kingdom?

_Gent._ So please his Majesty, I would be D. of _Burgundy_, Because I like the place.

_Bew._ I know the King is pleas'd.

_Gent._ Then will I stay and kiss his Highness hand.

_Bew._ His Majesty will be a glad man when he hears it.

_Lon._ But how shall we keep this from the world's ear, That some one tell him not, he is no Duke?

_Ser._ Wee'l think of that anon. Why Gentlemen, Is this a gracious habit for a Duke? Each gentle body set a finger to To pluck the clouds of this his riding weeds From off the orient Sun of his best cloaths; I'll pluck one Boot and spur off.

_Long._ I another.

_Bew._ I'll pluck his Jerkin off.

_Ser._ Sit down my Lord; Both his spurs off at once good _Longavile_, And _Bewford_, take that Scarfe off, and that Hat, Doth not become his largely sprouting fore-head. Now set your gracious foot to this of mine, One pluck will do it, so, off with the other.

_Lon._ Loe, thus your servant _Longavile_ doth pluck The trophy of your former gentry off. Off with his Jerkin _Bewford._

_Ser._ Didst thou never see A nimble footed Taylor stand so in his stockings, Whilst some friend help'd to pluck his Jerkin off, To dance a Jigg?

_Enter_ Jaques.

_Lon._ Here's his man _Jaques_ come, Booted and ready still.

_Jaq._ My Mistriss stayes; Why how now Sir? What do's your Worship mean, To pluck your grave and thrifty habit off.

_Gent._ My slippers, _Jaques_.

_Lon._ O thou mighty Duke, Pardon this Man, That thus hath trespassed in ignorance.

_Gent._ I pardon him.

_Lon._ His Graces slippers, _Jaques_.

_Ja._ Why what's the matter?

_Lon._ Foot-man, he's a Duke: The King hath rais'd him above all his Land.

_Ja._ I'll to his Cozen presently, and tell him so; O what a dung-hill Countrey rogue was I. [_Exit_ Jaques.

_Enter_ Wife.

_Ser._ See, see, my Mistriss.

_Lon._ Let's observe their greeting.

_Wife._ Unto your will, as every good Wife ought, I have turn'd all my thoughts, and now am ready.

_Gent._ O Wife, I am not worthy to kiss the least Of all thy toes, much less thy Thumb, Which yet I would be bold with; all thy counsel Hath been to me Angelical, but mine to thee Hath been most dirty, like my mind: Dear Duchess I must stay.

_Wife._ What are you mad, to make me Dress, and undress, turn and wind me, Because you find me plyant? said I not The whole world should not alter me, if once I were resolv'd? and now you call me Duchess: Why what's the matter?

_Gent._ Loe a Knight doth kneel.

_Wife._ A Knight?

_Gent._ A Lord.

_Wife._ A Fool.

_Gent._ I say doth kneel an Earl, a Duke.

_Long._ In Drawers.

_Bew._ Without shoes.

_Wife._ Sure you [are] lunatick.

_Ser._ No, honoured Duchess, If you dare but believe your servants truth, I know he is a Duke.

_Long._ God save his Grace.

_Wife._ I ask your Graces pardon.

_Gent._ Then I rise, And here, in token that all strife shall end, 'Twixt thee and me, I let my drawers fall, And to thy hands I do deliver them: Which signifies, that in all acts and speeches, From this time forth, my Wife shall wear the breeches.

_Ser._ An honorable composition. [_Exeunt omnes._

_Actus Tertius. Scaena Prima._

_Enter_ Cozen, _and_ Jaques.

_Coz._ Shall I believe thee, _Jaques_?

_Ja._ Sir you may.

_Coz._ Didst thou not dreame?

_Ja._ I did not.

_Coz._ Nor imagine?

_Ja._ Neither of both: I saw him great and mighty, I saw the _Monsieurs_ bow, and heard them cry, Good health and fortune to my Lord the Duke.

_Coz._ A Duke art sure? a Duke?

_Ja._ I am sure a Duke, And so sure, as I know my self for _Jaques_.

_Coz._ Yet the Sun may dazel; _Jaques_, Was it not Some leane Commander of an angry Block-house To keep the Fleemish Eele-boats from invasion, Or some bold Baron able to dispend His fifty pounds a year, and meet the foe Upon the Kings command, in gilded canvas, And do his deeds of worth? or was it not Some place of gain, as Clerk to the great Band Of maribones, that people call the _Switzers_? Men made of Beufe, and Sarcenet?

_Ja._ Is a Duke his chamber hung with Nobles like a presence?

_Coz._ I am something wavering in my faith; Would you would settle me, and swear 'tis so, Is he a Duke indeed?

_Ja._ I swear he is.

_Coz._ I am satisfied, he is my Kinsman. _Jaques_, And I his poor unworthy Cozen.

_Ja._ True, Sir.

_Coz._ I might have been a Duke too, I had means, A wife as fair as his, and as wise as his; And could have brookt the Court as well as his, And laid about her for her husbands honor: O _Jaques_, had I ever dreamt of this, I had prevented him.

_Ja._ Faith Sir it came Above our expectation, we were wise Only in seeking to undoe this honor, Which shewed our dung-hill breeding and our durt.

_Coz._ But tell me _Jaques_, Why could we not perceive? what dull Divel Wrought us to cross this noble course, perswading 'Twould be his overthrow? 'fore me a Courtier Is he that knows all, _Jaques_, and does all, 'Tis as his noble Grace hath often said, And very wisely, _Jaques_, we are fools, And understand just nothing.

_Ja._ I, as we were, I confess it. But rising with our great Master, We shall be call'd to knowledge with our places, 'Tis nothing to be wise, not thus much there, There's not the least of the billet dealers, Nor any of the Pastry, or the Kitchin, But have it in measure delicate.

_Coz._ Methinks this greatness of the Dukes my Cozens, (I ask you mercy, _Jaques_, that near name Is too familiar for me) should give promise Of some great benefits to his attendants.

_Ja._ I have a suit my self, and it is sure, Or I mistake my ends much.

_Coz._ What is't _Jaques_, May I not crave the place?

_Ja._ Yes, Sir, you shall, 'Tis to be but his Graces Secretary, Which is my little all, and my ambition, Till my known worth shall take me by the hand, And set me higher; how the fates may do In this poor thread of life, is yet uncertain; I was not born I take it for a Trencher, Nor to espouse my Mistriss Dairy-maid.

_Couz._ I am resolv'd my Wife shall up to Court; I'll furnish her, that is a speeding course, And cannot chuse but breed a mighty fortune; What a fine youth was I, to let him start, And get the rise before me! I'll dispatch, And put my self in Moneys.

_Ja._ Mass 'tis true, And now you talke of Money; Sir, my business For taking those Crowns must be dispatcht: This little plot in the Countrey lies most fit To do his Grace such serviceable uses, I must about it.

_Couz._ Yet, before you goe, Give me your hand, and bear my humble service To the great Duke your Master, and his Duchess, And live your self in favor: say my Wife Shall there attend them shortly, so farewell.

_Ja._ I'll see you mounted, Sir.

_Couz._ It may not be, Your place is far above it, spare your self, And know I am your servant, fare ye well. [_Exit Couzen._

_Ja._ Sir I shall rest to be commanded by you, This place of Secretary will not content me, I must be more and greater: let me see; To be a Baron is no such great matter As people take it: for say I were a Count, I am still an under-person to this Duke, Which methinks sounds but harshly: but a Duke? O I am strangely taken, 'tis a Duke Or nothing, I'll advise upon't, and see What may be done by wit and industry. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Wife, Longoveil, Bewford, Servants.

_Wife._ It must be carried closely with a care That no man speak unto him, or come near him, Without our private knowledge, or be made Afore-hand to our practice: My good husband, I shall entreat you now to stay a while, And prove a noble coxcomb. Gentlemen, Your counsel and advice about this carriage.

_Ser._ Alas good man, I do begin to mourn His dire Massacre: what a persecution Is pouring down upon him! sure he is sinful.

_Long._ Let him be kept in's chamber under shew Of state and dignity, and no man suffer'd To see his noble face, or have access, But we that are Conspirators.

_Bew._ Or else down with him into the Countrey amongst his Tenants, There he may live far longer in his greatness, And play the fool in pomp amongst his fellows.

_Wife._ No, he shall play the fool in the City, and stay, I will not lose the greatness of this jest, That shall be given to my wit, for the whole Revenues.

_Ser._ Then thus wee'll have a guard about his person, That no man come too near him, and our selves Alwayes in company; have him into the City To see his face swell; whilst, in divers corners, Some of our own appointing shall be ready To cry heaven bless your Grace, long live your Grace.

_Wife._ Servant, your counsel's excellent good, And shall be follow'd, 'twill be rarely strange To see him stated thus, as though he went A shroving through the City, or intended To set up some new [stake]: I shall not hold From open laughter, when I hear him cry, Come hither my sweet Duchess: let me kiss Thy gracious lips: for this will be his phrases? I fear me nothing but his legs will break Under his mighty weight of such a greatness.

_Bew._ Now me thinks dearest Lady you are too cruel; His very heart will freeze in knowing this.

_Wife._ No, no, the man was never of such deepness, To make conceit his Master: Sir, I'll assure ye He will out-live twenty such pageants. Were he but my Cozen, or my Brother, And such a desperate killer of his fortune, In this belief he should dye, though it cost me A thousand Crowns a day to hold it up; Or were I not known his wife, and so to have An equal feeling of this ill he suffers, He should be thus till all the Boyes i'th' Town Made sute to weare his badges in their hats, And walk before his Grace with sticks and nose-gayes, We Married Women hold--

_Ser._ 'Tis well, no more. The Duke is entring, set you[r] faces right, And bow like Countrey Prologues: here he comes. Make room afore, the Duke is entring.

_Enter Duke._

_Long._ The choisest fortunes wait upon our Duke.

_Ser._ And give him all content and happiness.

_Bew._ Let his great name live to the end of time.

_Duke._ We thank you, and are pleas'd to give you notice We shall at fitter times wait on your Loves, Till when, be near Us.

_Longv._ 'Tis a valiant purge, and works extreamly; 'Thas delivered him Of all Right worshipful and gentle humors, And left his belly full of nobleness.

_Du._ It pleased the King my Master, For sundry vertues not unknown to him, And the all-seeing state, to lend his hand, And raise me to this Eminence, how this May seem to other Men, or stir the minds Of such as are my fellow Peers, I know not, I would desire their loves in just designs.

_Wife._ Now by my faith he does well, very well: Beshrew my heart I have not seen a better, Of a raw fellow, that before this day Never rehearst his state: 'tis marvellous well.

_Ser._ Is he not Duke indeed, see how he looks As if his spirit were a last, or two Above his veins, and stretcht his noble hide.

_Long._ Hee's high-brac't like a Drum, pray God he break not.

_Bew._ Why let him break, there's but a Calves-skin lost.

_Long._ May it please your Grace to see the City, 'Twill be to the minds and much contentment Of the doubtful people.

_Du._ I am determin'd so, till my return I leave my honour'd Dutchess to her chamber. Be careful of your health, I pray you be so.

_Ser._ Your Grace shall suffer us your humble servants To give attendance, fit so great a person Upon your body.

_Du._ I am pleased so.

_Long._ Away good _Bewford_, raise a guard sufficient To keep him from the reach of Tongues, be quick; And do you hear, remember how the streets Must be dispos'd with, for cries, and salutations. Your Grace determines not to see the King--

_Du._ Not yet, I shall be ready ten dayes hence To kiss his Highness hand, and give him thanks, As it is fit I should for his great bounty. Set forward Gentlemen.

_Groom._ Room for the Duke there. [_Exeunt Duke and Train._

_Wife._ 'Tis fit he should have room to shew his mightiness, He swells so with his poyson, 'Tis better to reclaim ye thus, than make A sheeps-head of you, It had been but your due; But I have mercy Sir, and mean to reclaim you By a directer course. That Woman is not worthy of a Soul That has the sovereign power to rule her husband, And gives her title up, so long provided As there be fair play, and his state not wrong'd.

_Enter_ Shattillion.

_Shat._ I would be glad to know whence this new Duke springs, The people buz abroad; or by what title He receiv'd his dignity, 'tis very strange There should be such close jugling in the State, But I am ty'd to silence, yet a day May come, and soon to perfect all these doubts.

_Wife._ It is the mad _Shattillion_ by my Soul, I suffer much for this poor Gentleman; I'll speak to him, may be he yet knows me. _Monsieur Shattilion._

_Shat._ Can you give me reason from whence This great Duke sprang that walks abroad?

_Wife._ Even from the King himself.

_Shot._ As you are a Woman, I think you may be cover'd? Yet your prayer would do no harm good Woman.

_Wife._ God preserve him.

_Enter_ Shattillions _Love_.

_Shat._ I say Amen, and so say all good Subjects.

_Love._ Lady, as ever you have lov'd, or shall, As you have hope of heaven lend your hand, And wit, to draw this poor distracted man Under your roofe, from the broad eyes of people, And wonder of the streets.

_Wife._ With all my heart; My feeling of his grief and loss is much.

_Love._ Sir, now you are come so near the prison, will ye Goe in, and visit your fair Love: poor soul She would be glad to see you.

_Shat._ This same Duke is but Apocryphal, there's no creation That can stand where titles are not right.

_Lov._ 'Tis true, Sir.

_Shat._ That is another draught upon my life; Let me examine well the words I spake. The words I spake were, that this novel Duke Is not o'th' true making, 'tis to me most certain.

_Wife._ You are as right, Sir, as you went by line.

_Shat._ And to the grief of many thousands more.

_Wife._ If there be any such, God comfort them.

_Shat._ Whose mouths may open when the time shall please; I'm betray'd, commend me to the King, And tell him I am sound, and crave but justice; You shall not need to have your guard upon me, Which I am sure are plac'd for my attachment; Lead on; I'm obedient to my bonds.

_Lov._ Good Sir be not displeased with us; We are but servants to his Highness will, To make that good.

_Shat._ I do forgive you even with my heart; Shall I entreat a favor?

_Wife._ Any thing.

_Shat._ To see my love before that fatal stroak, And publish to the world my christian death, And true obedience to the Crown of _France_.

_Lov._ I hope it shall not need Sir, for there is mercy As well as Justice in his Royal heart. [_Exeunt._

_Enter three Gentlemen._

_1 Gent._ Every man take his corner, here am I, You there, and you in that place, so be perfect, Have a great care your cries be loud; and faces Full of dejected fear and humbleness. He comes.

_Enter_ Jaques.

_Ja._ Fye, how these streets are charg'd and swell'd With these same rascally people! give more room, Or I shall have occasion to distribute A martial almes amongst you; as I am a Gentleman I have not seen such rude disorder, They follow him like a prize, there's no true gaper Like to your Citizen, he will be sure The Beares shall not pass by his door in peace, But he and all his family will follow. Room there afore: Sound:

_Enter Duke and his company._

_Ja._ Give room, and keep your places, you may see enough; keep your places.

_Long._ These people are too far unmanner'd, thus To stop your Graces way with multitudes.

_Du._ Rebuke them not, good _Monsieur_, 'tis their loves Which I will answer, if it please my stars To spare me life and health.

_2 Gen._ Bless your Grace.

_Du._ And you with all my heart.

_1 Gen._ Now heaven preserve your happy dayes:

_Du._ I thank you too.

_3. Gen._ Now Heaven save your Grace;

_Du._ I thank you all.

_Bew._ On there before.

_Du._ Stand Gentlemen, stay yet a while. For I am minded to impart my love To these good people, and my friends, Whose love and prayers for my greatness, Are equal in abundance, note me well, And with my words; my heart? for as the Tree--

_Long._ Your Grace had best beware, 'twill be inform'd Your greatness with the people.

_Duke._ I had more, My honest, and ingenious people.--But The weight of business hath prevented me. I am call'd from you: but this tree I spake of Shall bring forth fruit, I hope, to your content, And so I share my bowels amongst you all.

_Omnes._ A noble Duke, a very noble Duke.

_Enter a Gentleman._

_Ser._ Afore there Gentlemen.

_Gen._ You'r faithfully met good _Monsieur Mount Marine_.

_Ser._ Be advis'd, the time is alter'd.

_Gen._ Is he not the same man he was afore?

_Duke._ Still the same man to you, Sir.

_Long._ You have received mighty Grace, be thankful.

_Gen._ Let me not dye in ignorance;

_Long._ You shall not. Then know, the King out of his love, hath pleas'd To stile him Duke of _Burgundy_.

_Gen._ O great Duke, Thus low, I plead for pardon, and desire To be enrol'd amongst your poorest slaves.

_Du._ Sir, you have mercy, and withal my hand, From henceforth let me call you one of mine.

_Ser._ Make room afore there, and dismiss the people.

_Du._ Every Man to his house in peace and quiet.