And shew you her sitting in her fourm; I'll lay My hand upon her; make her throw her scut Along her back, when she doth start before us. But you must give her law; and you shall see her Make twenty leaps and doubles, cross the paths, And then squat down beside us. John. Crafty croan, I long to be at the sport, and to report it. Scar. We'll make this hunting of the witch as famous, As any other blast of venery. 30 Geo. If we should come to see her, cry so haw onceAlk. That I do promise, or I'm no good hag-finder. XLI. (G.) BUSSY D'AMBOIS: A TRAGEDY. BY GEORGE CHAPMAN. A Nuntius (or Messenger) in the presence of KING HENRY THE THIRD of France and his Court tells the manner of a combat to which he was witness, of three to three; in which D'AMBOIS remained sole survivor: begun upon an affront passed upon D'AMBOIS by some Courtiers. HENRY, GUISE, BEAUPRE, NUNTIUS, &c. Nuntius. I saw fierce D'Ambois and his two brave friends Enter the field, and at their heels their foes, Which were the famous soldiers, Barrisor, L'Anou, and Pyrrhot, great in deeds of arms: Turn'd head, drew all their rapiers, and stood rank'd When face to face the three defendants met them, 20 Alike prepar'd, and resolute alike. ; Like bonfires of contributory wood Every man's look shew'd, fed with either's spirit; Like forms of life and death each took from other: That you could see no fear of death (for life); That "life and death in all respects are one." Henry. Passed there no sorts of words at their encounter? Nuntius. As Hector 'twixt the hosts of Greece and Troy, When Paris and the Spartan king should end 10 20 Or else that he and D'Ambois might conclude open, Might as they open'd shut, and never kill.* But D'Ambois' sword (that light'ned as it flew) Shot like a pointed comet at the face Of manly Barrisor; and there it stuck: Thrice pluck'd he at it, and thrice drew on thrusts From him, that of himself was free as fire; Who thrust still, as he pluck'd, yet (past belief) * One can hardly believe but that these lines were written after Milton had described his warring angels. He with his subtle eye, hand, body, 'scap'd; Long shook with tempests, and his lofty top Methinks had metal in it to survive Henry. Such often soonest end. Thy felt report calls on; we long to know 20 Nuntius. Sorrow and fury, like two opposite fumes Met in the upper region of a cloud, At the report made by this worthy's fall, Brake from the earth, and with them rose Revenge, Ent'ring with fresh pow'rs his two noble friends: 30 And under that odds fell surcharg'd Brisac, The friend of D'Ambois, before fierce L'Anou ; An angry unicorn in his full career That watched him for the treasure of his brow; 40 By which time all the life-strings of the tw' other As cedars beaten with continual storms, In forming a Colossus, if they make him Straddle enough, strut, and look big, and gape, In their affected gravity of voice, Sourness of countenance, manners' cruelty, Authority, wealth, and all the spawn of fortune, 19 as great seamen using all their wealth When they have done it, coming near the haven, Or we shall shipwreck in our safest port. Nick of Time. There is a deep nick in Time's restless wheel For each man's good, when which nick comes, strikes 20 As Rhetoric yet works not persuasion, But when it cries clink in his Raiser's spirit. Difference of the English and French Courts. HENRY. GUISE. MONTSURRY. Guise. I like not their Court* fashion, 'tis too crestfall'n In all observance, making demigods Of their great Nobles, and of their old Queen + An ever young and most immortal Goddess. Mont. No question she's the rarest Queen in Europe. 10 Guise. But what's that to her immortality? Henry. Assure you, cousin Guise; so great a Courtier, So full of majesty and royal parts, No Queen in Christendom may vaunt herself. Not mix'd with clown'ries us'd in common houses: But, as courts should be, th' abstracts of their kingdoms, In all the beauty, state, and worth they hold; So is hers amply, and by her inform'd. The world is not contracted in a Man, With more proportion and expression, 19 Than in her Court her Kingdom. Our French Court Is a mere mirror of confusion to it. The King and Subject, Lord and every Slave, Dance a continual hay. Our rooms of state Than a rude market-place; and though our custom |