The Works Of John Dreyden Vol-Vii

Contents

OF

VOLUME SEVENTH.

The Duke of Guise; a Tragedy^.

Dedication

worthy of that honour. It has already been a confessor, and was almost made a martyr for the royal cause : but having stood two trials from its enemies,—one before it was acted, another in the representation,—and having been in both ac¬ quitted, it is now to stand the public censure in the reading: where since, of necessity, it must have the same enemies, we hope it may also find the same friends; and therein we are secure, not only of the greater dumber, but of the more honest and loyal party. We only expected bare justice in the permission to have it acted; and that we had, after a severe and long examina¬ tion, from an upright and knowing judge, who, having heard both sides, and examined the merits of the cause, in a strict perusal of the play, gave sentence for us, that it was neither a libel, nor a parallel of particular persons. * In the representa¬ tion itself, it was persecuted with so notorious malice by one side, that it procured us the par¬ tiality of the other; so that the favour more than recompensed the prejudice. And it is happier to have been saved (if so we were) by the indul¬ gence of our good and faithful feUow-subjects, than by our own deserts; because, thereby the weakness of the faction is discovered, which, in us, at that time attacked the government, and stood combined, like the members of the rebel¬ lious League, against the lawful sovereign autho¬ rity. To what topic will they have recourse, when they are manifestly beaten from their chief post, which has always been popularity, and majority of voices 1 They will teU us,—that the voices of a people are not to be gathered in a play-house; and yet, even there, the enemies, as

* Heniy Bennet, Earl of Arlington, then Lord Chamberlain.

DEDICATION.

Prologue

Go on^ and bite^ even though the hook lies bare; Twice in one age expel the lawful heir:

Once more decide religion by the sword, ,

And purchase for us a new tyrant lord.

Pray for your king, but yet your purses spare ; Make him not twopence richer by your- prayer. To show you love him much, chastise him more. And make him very great, and very poor.

Push him to wars, but still no pence advance; Let him lose England, to recover France.

Cry freedom up, with popular noisy votes.

And get enough to cut each other's throats.

to arm tlie insurgents about this period. In tbe trial of Braddon and Speke for a misdemeanour, the recorder offered to prove that Braddon had bragged that “he was the only inventor of the Protestant flails; an instrument you have heard of, gentlemen,^ and for what use designed. ” This circumstance w^ not omitted by Jefferies, in his characteristic address to the prisoner:

what a happiness it was for this sort of people, that they had got Mr. Braddon, an honest man and a man of couragl, says Mr. Speke, a man •apropos! and pray, says he to his friend, give him the best advice you can, for he IS a man very fit for the purpose; and pray secure him under a sham name, for I 11 undertake there are such designs upon pious Mr. Braddon such •contrivances to do him mischief, that, if he had not had his Protestant flail about him, somebody or other would have knocked him on the head; and he is su^ a wonderful man, that all the king’s courts must needs conspire to do Mr. Braddon a mischief. A very pretty sort of man, upon my word, and he must be used accordingly,”— ;lSJ5a^e Prials, vol. iii. p. 897. In one of the scarce medals struck by James ii., Justice is represented weighing mural crowns, which preponderate against a naked sword, a serpent, and a Pro¬ testant flail : on each side of the figure are a head and trunk, representing those of Argyll and Monmouth. An accurate description of this weapon occurs in the following passage from Roger North: “There was much re¬ commendation of silk armour, and the prudence of being provided with it ngainst the time Protestants were to be massacred. And accordingly there were abundance of these silken backs, breasts, and pots (z.e. head-pieces), made and sold, that were pretended to be pistol proof; in which any man dressed up was as safe as in a house, for it was impossible any one could go to stnke him for laughing. So ridiculous was the figure, as they say, ot hogs in armour; an image of derision, insensible but to the view, as I have had it. This was armour of defence; but our sparks were not alto¬ gether so tame as to cai^ their provisions no farther, for truly they intended to be assailants upon fair occasion, and had for that end recommended also to them a certain pocket weapon, which, for its design and efficacy, had the honotm to be called a Protestant flail It was for street and crowd-work* und the engine lying perdue in a coat pocket, might readily sally out to dxeoution, and by clearing a great hall, a piazza, or so, cany an election by a choice way of polling, called hnocUng down. The handle resembled a wrrr^s blood-stick, and the fall was joined to the end by a strong nervous ligature, that in its swing fell just short of the hand, and was made of or rathei^ as the poet termed it, mortis:^^JEkxsamen, p. 572. ihe following is the first stanza of “ ‘The Protestant Flail;’ an excellent

PROLOGUE.

Lop all the rights that fence your monarch's throne; For fear of too much power, pray leave him none.

A noise was made of arbitrary sway;

But, in revenge, you Whigs have found a way An arbitrary duty now to pay.

Let his own servants turn to save their stake.

Glean from his plenty, and his wants forsake ;

But let some Judas near his person stay.

To swallow the last sop, and then betray.

Make London independent of the crown;

A realm apart; the kingdom of the town.

Let ignoramus juries find no traitors,'*^ new song, to the tune of ^ Lacy’s Maggot, or the Hobby Horse. It is thus

labelled by Luttrell: A bonny thing, 14 June, 1632.”

Listen a while, and I ’ll tell you a tale Of a new device of a Protestant flail ;

With a thump, thump, thump a thump,

^ Thump a thump, thump.

This flail it was made of the finest wood,

All lined with lead, and notable good

For splitting of bones, and shedding the blood

Of all that withstood,

With a thump, etc.

^ Shaftesbury, College, and others, were liberated by grand juries, who refused to find bills against them, bringing in what are technically called verdicts of igmyramm. It was here that the Whig sheriffe were of moat consequence to their party; for by their means the juries were picked from the very centre of the faction; and although they included many men of eminence, both for rank and talents, yet they were generally sucn as had made up their minds to cast the bill long before they came into court. This gave ^eat offence to the royalists. North says: “ There lay the barrier of the faction ; and that stately word [ignoramvjs) became the appellative of the whole corrupt practice, and the infamous title of all the persons concerned in it.” In Luttrell’s Collection I find, “Ignoramus, an excellent new song, to the tune of * Lay by your Pleading* Law lies a Bleeding,’ 15 Dec. 1681.”

At the Old Bailey,

Where rogues flock daily,

A greater rogue far than Coleman, White, or Stayley,

Was late indicted.

Witnesses cited.

But then he was set free, so the king was righted.

’Gainst princes offences Proved in all senses,

But ’gainst a Whig there is no truth in evidences;

They sham us, and flam us,

And rm us, and damn us.

And then, in spite of law, come off with ignoramus, etc.

PROLOGUE.

And ignoramus poets scribble satires.

And, that your meaning none may fail to scan. Do what in coffee-houses you began,—

Pull down the master, and set up the man.

This song, according to the invariable practice of the scribblers on both sides, was answered by a new “ Ignoramus.**

DRAMATIS PERSONS.

The Sjing of France.

Duke of Guise.

Duke o/Mayenne.

Crillon, Colonel of the Guard.

Alphonso Corso, a Colonel.

Bellievre, a Courtier.

Abbot Delbene.

The Cardinal of Guise.

Archbishop o/* Lyons.

POLIN.

Aumale.

Bussy.

The Curate of St. Eustace.

Malicorne, a Necromancer.

Melanax, a Spirit.

Two Sheriffs.

Citizens and Rabble, etc.

Queen-Mother.

Marmoutier, Niece to Crilhn.

SCENE— Paris.

[Cast:— King, Kynaston; Guise, Betterton; Mayenne, Jevon; Crillon, Smith; Cardinal, Wiltshire; Archbishop, Perrin; Corso, Montfort; Polin, Bowman; Aumale, Carlile; Bussy, Saunders; Curate, Underhill; Malicome, Perciyal; Melanax, Gillo ; Sherds, Bright and Samford; Queeur-Moiker, Lady Slingsby; Marmoutier, Mrs. Barry. The Dramatis PersowB are somewhat less numerous in the original, and, often, less fully described. One curious blunder appears Scott; the actor Montfort, spelt “ Monfert,” having crept from the cast to the list of persons.— Ed.]

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THE

DUKE OF GUISE.

SCENE I.— The Council of Sixteen seated; an empty chair prepared for the Duke of Ghiise. Bussy aTid PoLiN, two of the Sixteen

JBuss. Lights there I more lights! What, burn the tapers dim.

When glorious Guise, the Moses, Gideon, David, The saviour of the nation, makes approach 1 Pol. And therefore are we met; the whole sixteen.

That sway the crowd of Paris, guide their votes. Manage their purses, persons, fortunes, lives.

To moimt the Guise, where merit calls him, high. And give him a whole heaven for room to shine.

Enter Curate of St. Eustace.

Pii^s. The curate of St. Eustace comes at last: But, father, ivhy so late ?

Cur. I have been taking godly pains to satisfy some scruples raised amongst weak brothers of our party, that were staggering in the cause.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

ACT 1.

Pol. What could they find to object?

Cur. They thought, to arm against the king was treason.

Suss. I hope you set them right ?

Cur. Yes; and, for answer, I produced this book.

A Calvinist minister of Orleans

Writ this, to justify the admiral

For taking arms against the king deceased;

Wherein he proves, that irreligious kings

May justly be deposed, and put to death.

Suss. To borrow arguments from heretic books,

Methinks, was not so prudent

Cur. Yes; from the devil, if it would help our cause.

The author was indeed a heretic;

The matter of the book is good and pious.

Pol. But one prime article of our Holy League

Is to preserve the king, his power, and person.

Cur. That must be said, you know, for decency;

A pretty blind to make the shoot secure.

Suss. But did the primitive Christians e’er rebel.

When under heathen lords ? I hope they did.

Cur. No, sure they did not; for they had not power;

The conscience of a people is their power.

Pol. Well; the next article in our solemn covenant

Has cleared the point again.

Suss. W^hat is’t ? I should be glad to find the king

No safer than needs must

Pol. That, in case of opposition from any

person whatsoever-

SCENE I.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

Cur. That’s well, that’s well; then the king is not excepted, if he oppose us.—

Pol. We are obliged to join as one, to punish aU, who attempt to hinder or disturb us.

jBuss. ’Tis a plain case; the king’s included in the punishment, in case he rebel against the people.

Pol. But how can he rebel ?

Cur. I ’ll make it out: Rebellion is an insur¬ rection against the government; but they that have the power are actually the government; therefore, if the people have the power, the re¬ bellion is in the king.

Bv^s. A most convincing argument for faction.

Cur. For arming, if you please, but not for faction;

For still the faction is the fewest number:

So what they call the lawful government.

Is now the faction; for the most are ours.

Pol. Since we are proved to be above the king, I would gladly understand whom we are to obey, or, whether we are to be all kings together.

Cur. Are you a member of the League, and ask that question ? There’s an article, that, I may say, is as necessary as any in the creed; namely, that we, the said associates, are sworn to yield ready obedience, and faithful service, to that head which shall be deputed.

Buss. ’Tis most manifest, that, by virtue of our oath, we are aU subjects to the Duke of Guise. The king’s an officer that has betrayed his trust; and therefore we have turned him out of service.

Omn. Agreed, agreed.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

ACT I.

Enter the Duke of Guise, Cardinal of Guise, Aumale : Torches before them. The Duke takes the chair.

Buss. Your highness enters in a lucky hour; The unanimous vote you heard, confirms your choice.

As head of Paris and the Holy League.

Card. I say Amen to that Pol. You are our champion, buckler of our faith. Card. The king, like Saul, is heaven’s repented choice;

You his anointed one, on better thought

Gui. I’m what you please to caUlne; anything. Lieutenant-general, cliief, or constable.

Good decent names, that only mean—your slave. , Buss. You chased the Germans hence, exiled Navarre,

And rescued France from heretics and strangers. Aum. What he, and all of us have done, is known.

What’s our reward ? Our offices are lost. Turned out, like laboured oxen after harvest.

To the bare commons of the withered field. B%tss. Our charters will go next; because we sheriffs

Permit no justice to be done on those The court calls rebels, but we call them saints. Gui. Yes; we are all involved, as heads, or parties;

Dipt in the noisy crime of state, called treason; And traitors we must be, to king, or country. Bttss. Why, then my choice is made.

Pol. And mine.

Omn. And all.

Card. Heaven is itself head of the Holy League; And all the saints are cov’nanters and Guisards.

SCENE I.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

Gnii. What say you, curate ?

Cur. I hope well, my lord.

Card. That is, he hopes you mean to make him abbot.

And he deserves your care of his preferment; For all his prayers are curses on tne government. And aU his sermons libels on the king;

In short, a pious, hearty, factious priest

Gnii. All that are here, my friends, shall share my fortunes;

There’s spoil, preferments, wealth enough in France;

’Tis but deserve, and have. The Spanish king Consi^s me fifty thousand crowns a week To raise, and to foment a civil war.

’Tis true, a pension, from a foreign prince. Sounds treason in the letter of the law.

But good intentions justify the deed.

Cur. Heaven’s good; the cause is good; the money’s good;

No matter whence it comes.

IBuss. Our city-bands are twenty thousand strong.

Well-disciplined, well-armed, well-seasoned trai¬ tors.

Thick-rinded heads, that leave no room for kernel; Shop-consciences, of proof against an oath. Preached up, and ready tined* for a rebellion.!

Grui. Why, then the noble is fit for birth ; And labouiingFrance cries out for midwife hands.

* [" Tined ” =kindled.— Ed.]

t The Council of Sixteen certainly oflFered to place twenty thousand disciplined citizens of Paris at the devotion of the Duke of Guise; and here the intended parallel came close^ for Shaftesbury used to boast, that he could raise the like number of brisk boys in the city of London by merely hold¬ ing up his finger.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

ACT I.

We missed surprising of the king at Blois,

When last the States were held: ’twas oversight: Beware we make not such another blot

Card. This holy time of Lent we have him sure;

He goes unguarded, mixed with whipping friars. In that procession, he’s more fit for heaven: What hinders us to seize the royal penitent.

And close him in a cloister ?

Cur. Or despatch him; I love to make all sure.

Chd. No; guard him safe;

Thin diet will do well; ’twUl starve him into reason.

Till he exclude his brother of Navarre,

And graft succession on a worthier choice.

To favour this, five hundred men in arms Shall stand prepared, to enter at your call.

And speed the work: St. Martin’s Gate was named;

But the Sheriff Conti, who commands that ward, Kefused me passage there.

Bms. I know that Conti;

A snivelling, conscientious, loyal rogue;

He ’ll peach, and ruin all.

Cara. Give out he’s arbitrary, a Navarrist,

A heretic; discredit him betimes.

And make his witness void.

Cur. I ’ll swear him guilty.

I swallow oaths as easy as snap-dragon. Mock-fire that never burns.

Ghd. Then, Bussy, be it your care to admit my troops.

At Porte St. Honord: \;^ises.'\ Night wears apace. And daylight must not |(eep on dark designs.

I will myself to court, ^y formal duty.

Take leave, and to my government retire;

SCENE I.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

Impatient to be soon recalled, to see The king imprisoned, and the nation free.*

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Enter Malicorne solus

Mol. Each dismal minute, when I call to mind The promise that I made the Prince of HeU,

In one-and-twenty years to be his slave.

Of which near twelve are gone, my soul runs back. The wards of reason roll into their spring.t O horrid thought I but one-and-twenty years. And twelve near past, then to be steeped in fire,- Dashed against rocks, or snatched from molten lead.

Reeking, and dropping, piecemeal home by winds.

And quenched ten thousand fathom in the deep 1—

* During the cabals of the Council of Sixteen, the Duke * of Aumale approached Paris with five hundred veteran horse, levied in the disaffected province of Picardy. Jean Conti, one of the sheriffs (echevins) of Paris, was tampered with to admit them by St. Martin’s Gate; but as he refused, the leaguers stigmatised him as a heretic and favourer of Navarre, Another of these officers consented to open to Aumale the Gate of St. Denis, of which the keys were intrusted to him. The conspirators had determined, as is here expressed, to seize the person of the king, when he should attend the procession of the Flagellants, as he was wont to do in time of Lent. But he was apprised of their purpose by Poltrot, one of their number, and used the pretext of indisposition to excuse his absence from the penitential procession.— Davila^ lib, viii.

t [I cannot quite follow this metaphor, which seems to be taken either from a spring-lock or a watch.—E d,]

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

ACT 1.

But hark ! he comes: see there! my blood stands still, [Knocking at the door.

My spirits start on end for Guise’s fate.

A Devil rises.

Mai. What counsel does the fate of Guise require ?

Dev. Bemember, with his prince there’s no delay.

But, the sword drawn, to fling the sheath away; Let not the fear of hell his spirit grieve.

The tomb is still, whatever fools believe:

Laugh at the tales which withered sages bring. Proverbs and morals; let the waxen king.

That rules the hive, be bom without a sting; Let Guise by blood resolve to mount to power. And he is great as Mecca’s emperor.

He comes; bid him not stand on altar-vows.

But then strike deepest, when he lowest bows; ' Tell him, fate’s awed when an usurper springs. And joins to crowd out just indulgent kings.

[Vanishes.

SCENE HI.

Enter the Duke of Guise, and Duke of Mayenne.

May. AU offices and dignities he gives To your professed and most inveterate foes; But if he were inclined, as we could wish him. There is a lady-regent at his ear.

That never pardons.

Gkd. Poison on her name 1 Take my hand on’t, that cormorant dowager WUl never rest till she has all our heads In her lap. I was at Bayonne with her.

When she, the king, and grisly d’Alva met.

SCENE HI.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

Methinks, I see her listening now before me, Marking the very motion of his beard,

His opening nostrils, and his dropping lids.

I hear him croak too to the gaping council,— Fish for the great fish, take no care for frogs.

Cut off the poppy-heads, sir;—^madam, charm The winds but fast, the Isillows will be still.*

May. But, sir, how comes it you should be thus warm,

Still pushing councils when among your friends; Yet, at the court, cautious, and cold as age. Your voice, your eyes, your mien so different. You seem to me two men ?

* In the year 1565 an interview took place at Bayonne between Catharine of Medicis^ her son Charles ix., and the Queen of Spain, attended by the famous Duke of Alva, and the Count of Benevento. Many political discussions took place; and the opinion of Alva, as expressed in the text, is' almost literally versified from Davila's account of the con¬ ference. II T>uca jyAha, uomo di veemente naiura risolutamente diceva, eke per distruggere la iwviid della fede, e le solleeazioni di state, hisognava leoare le teste de' papaveri, pescare i pesci grossi e non st curare di prendere le ranocchie: erano questi i concetti profenti da lui; perche cessati i venti, Vonde della plehe facilmente si sarehhono da se stesse composte e acquietate: aggiugneva, che un prendpe non pub far cosa pm vitiiperosa nb pin dannosa a se stesso, quanto il permettere al popolo il vivere secondo la loro coscienza, ponendo tanta varietd di religioni in uno stato, quanto sono i capricci degli huomini e le fantasie delle persone inquiete, aprendo la porta alia discordia e alia confusione : e dimostrava con lunga commemorazione di segnalati esempj, eke la diversitd della fede aveoa sempre messo l\arme in mano ai sudditi, e sempre sollevate atrod perfidie e funeste rehellioni contra i superiori: onde conckiudeca nel fine, eke siccame le coniroversie della fede avevan sempre servito di preiesto e di argomenio alle sollefoazioni de* mal contenti,cosl era necessario rimovere a primo tratto questa coperta, epoi con severi rimedj, e senza riguardo di ferro, nb di fuoco, purgare le radici di quel male, il quale colla dolcezza e con la sofferenza perniciosamente germoglicmdo si dilatava sempre, e si accresceca .—Delle Guerre Civili di Francia, lib. iii.

THE DUKE OF GUISE.

ACT I.

Gui. The reason’s plain.

Hot with my friends, because, the question given, I start the judgment right, where others drag. This is the effect of equal elements,

And atoms justly poised; nor should you wonder More at the strength of body than of mind;

’Tis equally the same to see me plunge Headlong into the Seine, all over armed.

And plough against the torrent to my point.

As ’twas to hear my judgment on the Germans. This to another man would be a brag;

Or at the court among my enemies.

To be, as I am here, quite off my guard.

Would make me such another thing as CriUon, A blunt, hot, honest, downright, valiant fooL May. Yet this you must allow a failure in you,—

You love his niece; and to a poHtieian All passion’s bane, but love directly death. um. False, false, my Mayenne; thou ’rt but half Guise again.

Were she not such a wondrous composition,

A soul, so flushed as mine is with ambition. Sagacious and so nice, must have disdained her: But she was made when nature was in humour. As if a CriUon got her on the queen.

Where aU the honest atoms fought their way. Took a fuU tincture of the mother’s wit.

But left the dregs of wickedness behind.

May. Have you not told her what we have in hand ?

Gui. My utmost aim has been to hide it from her.

But there I’m short;"^ by the long chain of causes She has scanned it, just as if she were my soul;

* I have fallen short of my aim.”—E d.]