Performed the first and best parts of a judge, That, as his life transcends all fair examples Of such as were before him in Dijon, So it remains to those that shall succeed him, A precedent they may imitate, but not equal. Roch. I may not sit to hear this. Du Croy. Let the love (Which guilty, nay, condemned men, dare not scandal) It will erect a trophy of your mercy, Which married to that justice Nov. sen. Speak to the cause. Charmi. I will, my lord. To say, the late dead marshal, And thankfulness we are bound to pay to good- The father of this young lord here, my client, For this great favour shall prevent your trouble. Upon my weakness, since you witness for me Nov. sen. Or, as you are, persuade you to con- The noble exercise of your knowing judgment! Roch. That may not be; nor can your lordships' goodness, Since your employments have conferred upon me Sufficient wealth, deny the use of it; And though old age, when one foot's in the grave, In many, when all humours else are spent, Enter ROMONT and CHARALOIS. Rom. See, sir, our advocate. Your lordship will be pleased to name the man, Roch. I embrace it Hath done his country great and faithful service, ber: He, in his life, became indebted to These thrifty men, (I will not wrong their credits, And, though it became a maxim in our laws, Your lordships so to fashion your decree, Nov. sen. How long have you, sir, practised in Charmi. Some twenty years, my lord. Charm. I foresaw this. Rom. Why, does your lordship think the moving of A cause, more honest than this court had ever Now, sen. Strange boldness! Rom. 'Tis fit freedom: Or, do you conclude, an advocate cannot hold Rom. Or cannot you, that have the power When you are pleased, take a little from Nov. sen. Sirrah! you that prate Rom. Yet I, that, in my service done my coun- Disdain to be put in the scale with thee, Of whose so many glorious undertakings, Urged justly, and breathed forth so, ever fell Mayest, in thy fear that they will fall upon thee, Be sensible of the plagues they shall bring with them. And for denying of a little earth, To cover what remains of our great soldier, And, while you live, your riotous heirs undo you! I have begun well; imitate, exceed. [To CHAR. me: Not that I fear to speak my thoughts as loud, To quit the burden of a hopeless life, Writ man before he was so, and confirmed it, Re-enter Officers. Courage and hope in all men but himself, To yield unto an honourable peace, Du Croy. 'Twas his fault Nov. sen. He had from the state Sufficient entertainment for the army. Char. Sufficient, my lords? You sit at home, And, though your fees are boundless at the bar, Are thrifty in the charges of the war— But your wills be obeyed. To these I turn, To these soft-hearted men, that wisely know They're only good men that pay what they owe. 2 Cred. And so they are. 1 Cred. 'Tis the city doctrine; We stand bound to maintain it. Char. Be constant in it; And, since you are as merciless in your natures, you. That to be in your danger, with more care Should be avoided than infectious air, The loathed embraces of diseased women, A flatterer's poison, or the loss of honour. Yet, rather than my father's reverend dust A prisoner for it. Load me with those irons 1 Cred. What mean you, sir? 2 Advo. Only your fee again: There's so much said Already in this cause, and said so well, That, should I only offer to speak in it, I should be or not heard, or laughed at for it. 1 Cred. 'Tis the first money advocate e'er gave back, Though he said nothing. Roch. Be advised, young lord, That is not sensible of it, with which wise man From these men's malice, and break ope the prison, Though it contain his body. Nov. sen. Let him alone: If he love cords, in God's name, let him wear him up; He is well shaped, and has a villainous tongue, Du Croy. What's your answer? 1 Cred. Why, let our executions, That lie upon the father, be returned Upon the son, and we release the body. Nov. sen. The court must grant you that. They have in it confirmed on me such glory, [Exeunt CHARALOIS, CHARMI, Creditors, Nov. sen. Strange rashness! To my own cause. Already I have found Du Croy. There is nothing The court can grant, but with assurance you Roch. You encourage a bold petitioner, and 'tis not fit Your favours should be lost: Besides, it has been Du Croy. Speak it freely. Roch. I then desire the liberty of Romont, And that my lord Novall, whose private wrong Was equal to the injury that was done To the dignity of the court, will pardon it, Nov. sen. Pray you demand The moiety of my estate, or any thing Roch. Am I denied then my first and last request? Du Croy. It must not be. 2 Pre. I have a voice to give in it. 3 Pre. And I. And, if persuasion will not work him to it, Nov. sen. You are too violent; But would you had Made trial of my love in any thing But this, you should have found then-But it skills not. You have what you desire. Roch. I thank your lordships. Du Croy. The court is up-Make way. Roch. You are a scholar, Beaumont, And can search deeper into the intents of men, Than those that are less knowing. How appeared The piety and brave behaviour of Beaum. It is my wonder, Since I want language to express it fully; Roch. Fie! he was faulty. What present mo ney have I? Beaum. There is no want Of any sum a private man has use for. Roch. 'Tis well: I am strangely taken with this Charalois. Methinks, from his example, the whole age Should learn to be good, and continue so. Virtue works strangely with us; and his good ness, Rising above his fortune, seems to me, SCENE I-A Street before the Prison. ACT II. Enter PONTALIER, MALOTIN, and BEAUMONT, Pont. In a man but young, Yet old in judgment; theorick and practick, Beaum. Twenty-eight; For since the clock did strike him seventeen old, And men more barbarous to execute it, That he had rather die alive for debt Of the old man in prison, than they should Beaum, True! for my part, were it my father's trunk, The tyrannous ram-heads with their horns should gore it, Or cast it to their curs, than they less currish, What price bears honour? virtue? Long ago And from this prison,-'twas the son's request. Enter funeral. The body borne by four. Cap tains and soldiers, mourners, 'scutcheons, &c. in very good order. CHARALOIS and ROMONT meet it. CHARALOIS speaks. ROMONT weeping, Solemn musick. Three Creditors, Char. How like a silent stream shaded with night, And gliding softly with our windy sighs, [To SOLD. Char. Peace! O peace! This scene is wholly mine. 1 Cred. Would they so? We'll keep them to stop bottles then. Rom. No, keep them for your own sins, you rogues, Till you repent; you'll die else, and be damned. 2 Cred. Damned!-ha! ha! ha! Rom. Laugh ye? 1 Cred. No further; look to them at your own peril. 2 Cred. No, as they please: Their master's a I would they were at the Bermudas! The prison limits you, and the creditors 2 Cred. Yes, faith, sir; we would be very glad Exact the strictness. To please you either way. 1 Cred. You are ne'er content, Crying nor laughing. Rom. Both with a birth, ye rogues? 2 Cred. Our wives, sir, taught us. Rom. Look, look, you slaves! your thankless cruelty, And savage manners of unkind Dijon, Exhaust these floods, and not his father's death. 1 Cred. 'Slid, sir! what would you, you're so cholerick! 2 Cred. Most soldiers are so, 'faith.-Let him alone. They've little else to live on; we have not had A penny of him, have we? 3 Cred. 'Slight, would you have our hearts? 1 Cred. We have nothing but his body here in durance, For all our money. Priest. On. Char. One moment more, But to bestow a few poor legacies, Wounded and hacked ye were, but never felled. Rom. Out, you wolfish mongrels! Whose brains should be knocked out, like dogs in SCENE II.-A Room in Rochfort's House. Enter BEAUMELLE,FLORIMEL, and BELLAPERT. Beaumel. I prithee tell me, Florimel, why do you women marry? Flor. Why truly, madam, I think, to lie with their husbands. Bella. You are a fool. She lies, madam; women marry their husbands, to lie with other men. Flor. 'Faith, even such a woman wilt thou make. By this light, madam, this wagtail will spoil you, if you take delight in her licence. Beaumel. 'Tis true, Florimel; and thou wilt make me too good for a young lady. What an electuary found my father out for his daughter, when he compounded you two my women! For thou, Florimel, art even a grain too heavy, simply, for a waiting-gentlewoman Flor. And thou, Bellapert, a grain too light. Bella. Well, go thy ways, goody wisdom, whom nobody regards. I wonder whether be elder, thou or thy hood? You think, because you served my lady's mother, are thirty-two years old, which is a pip out, you know— Flor. Well said, whirligig. Bella. You are deceived: I want a peg in the middle. Out of these prerogatives, you think to be mother of the maids here, and mortify them with proverbs: go, go, govern the sweetmeats, and weigh the sugar, that the wenches steal none; say your prayers twice a day, and, as I take it, you have performed your functions. Flor. I may be even with you. Bella. Hark! the court's broke up; go help my old lord out of his caroch, and scratch his head till dinner-time, Flor. Well. [Exit. Bella. Fie, madam, how you walk! By my maiden-head, you look seven years older than you did this morning. Why there can be nothing under the sun valuable to make you thus a minute. Beaumel. Ah, my sweet Bellapert, thou cabinet To all my counsels, thou dost know the cause That makes thy lady wither thus in youth. |