The Conspiracy of Charles Duke of Byron · chunk 5 of 33
Chapman, George · published 1608 · first performed or written 1608 [1607-1608] (Annals) history · Children of the Queen's Revels T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.78 · 535 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
The wondrous honour done our Duke Byron In his embassage here, in th'archduke's Court, I fear will taint his loyalty to our King. I will observe how they observe his humour, And glorify his valour; and how he Accepts and stands attractive to their ends, That so I may not seem an idle spot In train of this embassage but return Able to give our King some note of all, Worth my attendance; And see, here's the man, Who (though a French man, and in Orleans borne Serving the Archduke) I do most suspect, Is set to be the tempter of our Duke; I'll go where I may see, all though not hear. Spread here this history of Catiline, That Earth may seem to bring forth Roman Spirits; Even to his Genial feet; and her dark breast Be made the clear Glass of his shining Graces, we'll make his feet so tender, they shall gall In all paths but to Empire; and therein I'll make the sweet Steps of his State begin. What place is this? what air? what region? In which a man may hear the harmony Of all things moving? Hymen marries here, Their ends and uses and makes me his Temple. Hath any man been blessed, and yet lived? The blood turns in my veins, I stand on change, And shall dissolve in changing; 'tis so full Of pleasure not to be contained in flesh: To fear a violent Good, abuseth Goodness, 'tis Immortality to die aspiring, As if a man were taken quick to heaven; What will not hold Perfection, let it burst; What force hath any cannon, not being charged, Or being not discharged? To have stuff and form, And to lie idle, fearful, and unused, Nor form, nor stuff shows; happy Semele That died compressed with Glory: Happiness Denies comparison, of less, or more, And not at most, is nothing: like the shaft Shot at the Sun, by angry Hercules, And into shivers by the thunder broken Will I be if I burst: And in my heart This shall be written: yet 'twas high and right. Here too? they follow all my steps with Music, As if my feet were numerous, and trod sounds Out of the Centre, with Apollo's virtue, That out of every thing his each-part touched, Struck musical accents: wheresoe'er I go, They hide the earth from me with coverings rich, To make me think that I am here in heaven. This way, your Highness. Come they? I my Lord. My Lord d' Aumall, I am exceeding sorry, That your own obstinacy to hold out, Your mortal enmity against the King, When Duke du main, and all the faction yielded, Should force his wrath to use the rites of treason, Upon the members of your senseless Statue, Your Name and House, when he had lost your person, Your love and duty. That which men enforce By their own wilfulness; they must endure With willing patience, and without complaint. I use not much impatience nor complaint. Though it offends me much, to have my name So blotted with addition of a Traitor. And my whole memory, (with such despite, Marked and begun to be so rooted out.)
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The wondrous honour doone our Duke Byron In his Ambassage heere, in th'Archdukes Court, I feare will taint his loyaltie to our King. I will obserue how they obserue his humour, And glorifie his valure; and how he Accepts and stands attractiue to their ends, That so I may not seeme an idle spot In traine of this ambassage but returne Able to giue our King some note of all, Worth my attendance; And see, heere's the man, Who (though a French man, and in Orleance borne Seruing the Arch-duke) I doe most suspect, Is set to be the tempter of our Duke; Ile goe where I may see, all though not heare. Spreade heere this historie of Cateline, That Earth may seeme to bring forth Roman Spirites; Euen to his Geniall feete; and her dake breast Be made the cleare Glasse of his shining Graces, Weele make his feete so tender, they shall gall In all paths but to Empire; and therein Ile make the sweete Steppes of his State beginne. What place is this? what ayre? what rhegion? In which a man may heare the harmony Of all things moouing? Hymen marries heere, Their ends and vses and makes me his Temple. Hath any man beene blessed, and yet liu'd? The bloud turnes in my veines, I stand on change, And shall dissolue in changing; tis so full Of pleasure not to be containde in flesh: To feare a violent Good, abuseth Goodnes, Tis Immortallitie to die aspiring, As if a man were taken quicke to heauen; What will not holde Perfection, let it burst; What force hath any Cannan, not being chargde, Or being not dischargde? To haue stuffe and forme, And to lie idle, fearefull, and vnus'd, Nor forme, nor stuffe shewes; happy Semel That died comprest with Glorie: Happinesse Denies comparison, of lesse, or more, And not at most, is nothing: like the shaft Shot at the Sunne, by angry Hercules, And into shiuers by the thunder broken Will I be if I burst: And in my heart This shall be written: yet twas high and right. Heere too? they follow all my steppes wih Musique, As if my feete were numerous, and trode sounds Out of the Center, with Apolloes vertue, That out of euery thing his ech-part toucht, Strooke musicall accents: wheresoe're I goe, They hide the earth from me with couerings rich, To make me thinke that I am heere in heauen. Ths way, your Highnesse. Come they? I my Lord. My Lord d' Aumall, I am exceeding sorie, That your owne obstinacie to hold out, Your mortall enmitie against the King, When Duke du Maine, and all the faction yeelded, Should force his wrath to vse the rites of treason, Vpon the members of your sencelesse Statue, Your Name and House, when he had lost your person, Your loue and duety. That which men enforce By their owne wilfulnesse; they must endure With willing patience, and without complaint. I vse not much impatience nor complaint. Though it offends me much, to haue my name So blotted with addition of a Traitor. And my whole memory, (with such despight, Markt and begun to be so rooted out.)