Monsieur D'Olive Act 4

VANDOME: My sister's exequies are now performed
With such pomp as expressed the excellence
Of her lord's love to her; and fired the envy
Of our great Duke, who would have no man equal
The honor he does t' his adored wife;
And now the Earl (as he hath promised me)
Is in this sad cell of my honored mistress,
Urging my love to fair Eurione;
Which I framed only to bring him abroad,
And (if it might succeed) make his affects, ... [IV.1.10]
With change of objects, change his helpless sorrow
To helpful love. I stood where I observed
Their words and looks, and all that passed betwixt them;
And she hath with such cunning borne herself
In fitting his affection, with pretending
Her mortified desires, her only love
To virtue and her lovers; and, in brief,
Hath figured with such life my dear dead sister,
Enchasing all this with her heightened beauty,
That I believe she hath entangled him, ... [IV.1.20]
And won success to our industrious plot.
If he be touched, I know it grieves his soul,
That, having underta'en to speak for me,
(Imagining my love was as I feigned)
His own love to her should enforce his tongue
To court her for himself, and deceive me.
By this time we have tried his passionate blood;
If he be caught (as heaven vouchsafe he be)
I'll play a little with his fantasy. [Retires.]
[Enter St. Anne.]

ST. ANNE: Am I alone? Is there no eye nor ear ... [IV.1.30]
That doth observe me? Heaven, how have I grasped
My spirits in my heart, that would have burst
To give wished issue to [my] violent love!
Dead wife, excuse me, since I love thee still,
That liv'st in her whom I must love for thee;
For he that is not moved with strongest passion
In viewing her, that man did ne'er know thee;
She's thy surviving image; but woe's me,
Why am I thus transported past myself?

VANDOME: [Aside.] Oh, are your dull uxorious spirits raised? ... [IV.1.40]
One madness doth beget another still.

ST. ANNE: But stay, advise me, soul; why didst thou light me
Over this threshold? Was't to wrong my brother?
To wrong my wife, in wronging of my brother?
I'll die a miserable man, no villain:
Yet in this case of love, who is my brother?
Who is my father? Who is any kin?
I care not; I am nearest to myself;
I will pursue my passion, I will have her.

VANDOME: [Advancing.] Traitor, I here arrest thee in the names ... [IV.1.50]
Of Heaven, and Earth, and deepest Acheron;
Love's traitor, brother's, traitor to thy wife!

ST. ANNE: O brother, stood you so near my dishonor?
Had you forborne awhile, all had been changed;
You know the variable thoughts of love,
You know the use of honor, that will ever
Retire into itself; and my just blood
Shall rather flow with honor than with love;
Be you a happy lover, I a friend,
For I will die for love of her and thee. ... [IV.1.60]

VANDOME: My lord and brother, I'll not challenge more
In love and kindness than my love [de]serves;
That you have found one whom your heart can like,
And that one whom we all sought to prefer,
To make you happy in a life renewed,
It is a heaven to me, by how much more
My heart embraced you for my sister's love.
'Tis true I did dissemble love t'Eurione,
To make you happy in her dear affection,
Who more dotes on you than you can on her; ... [IV.1.70]
Enjoy Eurione, she is your own,
The same that ever my dear sister was;
And Heaven bless both your loves as I release
All my feigned love and interest to you.

ST. ANNE: How nobly hath your love deluded me.
How justly have you been unjust to me!
Let me embrace the oracle of my good,
The author and the patron of my life.

VANDOME: Tush, betwixt us, my lord, what need these terms,
As if we knew not one another yet? ... [IV.1.80]
Make speed, my lord, and make your nuptials short,
As they are sudden blest in your desires.

VANDOME: Stay, one word first, my lord; you are a sweet brother
To put in trust, and woo love for another.

ST. ANNE: Pray thee no more of that.
: ~~~ Well then, be gone.
My lord, her brother comes. [Exit St. Anne. Enter Vaumont.]
: ~~~ Most happy friend,
How hath our plot succeeded?
: ~~~ He's our own.
His blood was framed for every shade of virtue
To ravish into true inamorate fire; ... [IV.1.90]
The funeral of my sister must be held
With all solemnity, and then his nuptials
With no less speed and pomp be celebrate.

VAUMONT: What wonders hath your fortunate spirit and virtues
Wrought to our comforts! Could you crown th' enchantments
Of your divine wit with another spell,
Of power to bring my wife out of her cell,
You should be our quick Hermes, our Alcides.

VANDOME: That's my next labor; come, my lord, yourself
Shall stand unseen, and see by next morn's light ... [IV.1.100]
(Which is her bedtime) how my brain's bold valor
Will rouse her from her vow's severity;
No will, nor power, can withstand policy. [Exit, with Vaumont.]

D'OLIVE: Welcome, little wits! Are you he my page Pacque
here makes choice of to be his fellow coach-horse?

PACQUE: But begot i'th' Court; I can tell your lordship,
he hath had as good court breeding as any imp in a country.
If your lordship please to examine him in any part of the
Court accidence, from a noun to an interjection, I'll undertake
you shall find him sufficient. ... [IV.2.10]

D'OLIVE: Say'st thou so, little wit? Why, then, sir, how
many pronouns be there?

DICQUE: Faith, my lord, there are more, but I have learned
but three sorts; the gourd, the fulham, and the stop-cater-trey;
which are all demonstratives, for here they be.
[Showing a set of dice.] There are relatives too, but they
are nothing without their antecedents.

DICQUE: Faith, y lord, their number is uncertain; but ... [IV.2.20]
they that are, are either squires or gentlemen ushers.

D'OLIVE: Very well said! When all is done, the Court is
the only school of good education, especially for pages and
waiting-women; Paris, or Padua, or the famous school of
England called Winchester (famous, I mean, for the goose)
where scholars wear petticoats so long, till their pen and
inkhorns knock against their knees; all these, I say, are but
belfries to the body or school of the Court. He that would
have his son proceed doctor in three days, let him send him
thither; there's the forge to fashion all the parts of them; ... [IV.2.30]
there they shall learn the true use of their good parts indeed.

PACQUE: Well, my lord, you have said well for the Court,
what says your lordship now to us courtiers? Shall we
go the voyage?

D'OLIVE: My little hermaphrodites, I entertain you here
into my chamber, and if need be, nearer; your service you
know. I will not promise mountains, nor assure you
annuities of forty or fifty crowns; in a word, I will promise
nothing, but I will be your good lord, do you not doubt.

DICQUE: We do not, my lord; but are sure you will show ... [IV.2.40]
yourself noble; and as you promise us nothing, so you will
honorably keep promise with us, and give us nothing.

DICQUE: As suits from a courtier without money, or money
from a citizen without security, my lord.

D'OLIVE: Well, I perceive Nature has suited your wits, and ... [IV.2.50]
I'll suit you in guarded coats, answerable to your wits; for
wit's as suitable to guarded coats as wisdom is to welted
gowns. My other followers horse themselves, myself will
horse you. And now tell me (for I will take you into my
bosom) what's the opinion of the many-headed beast
touching my new addition of honor?

DICQUE: Some think, my lord, it hath given you addition
of pride and outrecuidance.

D'OLIVE: They are deceived that think so; I must confess
it would make a fool proud, but for me, I am semper ... [IV.2.60]
idem.

PACQUE: We believe your lordship.

D'OLIVE: I find no alteration in myself in the world, for I
am sure I am no wiser than I was, when I was no lord, nor
no more bountiful, nor no more honest; only in respect of
my state, I assume a kind of state; to receive suitors now
with the nod of nobility, not (as before) with the cap of
courtesy, the knee of knighthood -- and why knee of knight-
hood, little wit? There's another question for your Court
accidence. ... [IV.2.70]

DICQUE: Because gentlemen, or yeomen, or peasants, or so,
receive knighthood on their knees.

PACQUE: The signification of the knee of knighthood in
heraldry, an't please your lordship, is, that knights are tied
in honor to fight up to the knees in blood for the defense
of fair ladies.

D'OLIVE: Very good; but if it be so, what honor do they
deserve that purchase their knighthood?

DICQUE: Purchase their knighthood, my lord? Marry, I
think they come truly by't, for they pay well for't. ... [IV.2.80]

D'OLIVE: You cut me off by the knees, little wit; but I say
(if you will hear me), that if they deserve to be knighted
that purchase their knighthood with fighting up to the knee,
what do they deserve that purchase their knighthood with
fighting above the knee?

PACQUE: Marry, my lord, I say the purchase is good, if the
conveyance will hold water.

D'OLIVE: Why, this is excellent; by heaven, twenty pounds
annuity shall not purchase you from my heels! But forth,
now; what is the opinion of the world touching this new ... [IV.2.90]
honor of mine? Do not fools envy it?

DICQUE: No, my lord, but wise men wonder at it; you
having so buried your wisdom heretofore in taverns and
vaulting-houses, that the world could never discover you
to be capable of honor.

D'OLIVE: As though Achilles could hide himself under a
woman's clothes; was he not discovered at first? This
honor is like a woman, or a crocodile (choose you whether)
it flies them that follow it and follows them that fly it; for
myself, however my worth for the time kept his bed, yet ... [IV.2.100]
did I ever prophesy to myself that it would rise before the
sunset of my days; I did ever dream that this head was
born to bear a breadth, this shoulder to support a state,
this face to look big, this body to bear a presence; these feet
were born to be revelers, and these calves were born to be
courtiers; in a word, I was born noble, and I will die nobly;
neither shall my nobility perish with death; after ages
shall resound the memory thereof, while the sun sets in the
east, or the moon in the west.

D'OLIVE: The siege of Boulogne shall be no more a landmark
for times; Agincourt battle, St. James his field, the loss of
Calais and the winning of Cales, shall grow out of use; men
shall reckon their years, women their marriages, from the
day of our ambassage; as 'I was born, or married, two,
three, or four years before the great ambassage.' Farmers
shall count their leases from this day, gentlemen their
mortgages from this day; St. Denis shall be 'rased out of the
calendar, and the day of our installment entered in red
letters; and as St. Valentine's day is fortunate to choose ... [IV.2.120]
lovers, St. Luke's to choose husbands, so shall this day be
to the choosing of lords. It shall be a critical day, a day
of note; in that day it shall be good to quarrel, but not to
fight; they that marry on that day shall not repent --
marry, the morrow after perhaps they may -- it shall be
wholesome to beat a sergeant on that day; he that eats
garlic on that morning shall be a rank knave till night.

D'OLIVE: Hold? 'Sfoot, it shall hold, and shall be held
sacred to immortality; let all the chroniclers, ballet-makers, ... [IV.2.130]
and almanac-mongers, do what they dare. [Enter Roderigue.]

RODERIGUE: The lady is entombed that was the subject of your
ambassage; and your ambassage is berayed.

DICQUE: Oh, scurvy verse! ... [IV.2.140]
Your lordship's welcome home! Pray, let's walk your
horse, my lord.

DICQUE: And I am of opinion that I am partly guilty of the
same. [Enter Mugeron, with a Page.]

MUGERON: Where's this lord fool here? 'Slight, you have
made a pretty piece of service on't, raised up all the country
in gold lace and feathers; and now with your long stay ... [IV.2.150]
there's no employment for them.

MUGERON: 'Slight, I ever took thee to be a hammer of the
right feather; but I durst have laid my life, no man could
ever have crammed such a gudgeon as this down the throat
of thee. To create thee a Christmas Lord, and make thee
laughter for the whole Court! I am ashamed of myself
that ever I choosed such a gross block to whet my wits on.

D'OLIVE: Good wit, i'faith! I know all this is but a gullery
now; but since you have presumed to go thus far with me, ... [IV.2.160]
come what can come to the State, sink or swim, I'll be no
more a father to it nor the Duke; nor for the world wade
one half-step further in the action.

D'OLIVE: Followers? Let them follow the Court, as I
have done: there let them raise their fortunes; if not,
they know the way to the petty broker's, there let them
shift and hang. [Exit cum suis.]

RODERIGUE: Here we may strike the Plaudite to our play; my ... [IV.2.170]
lord Fool's gone; all our audience will forsake us.

RODERIGUE: Let him go; I'll take up some other fool for the
Duke to employ: every ordinary affords fools enow; and
didst nor see a pair of gallants sit not far hence like a couple
of bough-pots to make the room smell?

RODERIGUE: I'll press them to the Court; or if need be, our
muse is not so barren, but she is able to devise one trick or
other to retire D'Olive to Court again. ... [IV.2.180]

MUGERON: Indeed thou toldst me how gloriously he
apprehended the favor of a great lady i'th' presence, whose
heart (he said) stood a tiptoe in her eye to look at him.

RODERIGUE: It would, of mine honor; we'll feign one from
her instantly. Page, fetch pen and ink here. [Exit Page.]

MUGERON: Now do you and your muse engender; my barren
sconce shall prompt something. ... [IV.2.190]

RODERIGUE: Soft, then! The Lady Hieronime, who, I said,
viewed him so in the presence, is the Venus that must
enamor him; we'll go no further for that. But in what
likeness must he come to the Court to her now? As a
lord he may not; in any other shape he will not.

MUGERON: Then let him come in his own shape, like a gull.
[Re-enter Page with pen and ink.]

RODERIGUE: Well, disguised he shall be. That shall be his
mistress' direction; this shall be my Helicon, and from
this quiver will I draw the shaft that shall wound him.

RODERIGUE: That will I, sir. But alas! why art thou not noble,
that thou mightst match me in blood?

RODERIGUE: That's not amiss; forth now: Thy wit proves
thee to be a lord, thy presence shows it -- O that word presence
has cost me dear --

RODERIGUE: Not a whit; O's but the next door to P, and ... [IV.2.230]
his mistress may use her O with -- with modesty; or if thou
wilt, I'll stop it with another brackish tear.

MUGERON: Well said, let that last stand; let him do in
any case: now say thus, Do not appear at Court --

RODERIGUE: Well said; now do I vie it: Come to my chamber
chamber betwixt two and three --

RODERIGUE: But walk not under my window. If thou dost,
come disguised: in any case wear not thy tuft taffeta cloak:
if thou dost, thou killest me.

RODERIGUE: Thine, if I were worth ought; and yet such,
as it skills not whose I am, if I be thine, Hieronime. Now for
a fit pandar to transport it, and have at him! [Exeunt.] ... [IV.2.260]

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