(The equal renderer of each man his own,
The scourge of rapine and extortion,
The sanctuary and impregnable defense
Of retired learning and besieged virtue)
Into a Harpy, that eats all but's own,
Into the damned sins it punishes,
Into the synagogue of thieves and atheists;
Blood into gold, and justice into lust:--
Let me but hawlk at him, as at the rest,
He shall confess all, and you then may hang him._Enter Mont-surrey, Tamira and Pero._
_Gui._ Where will you find such game as you would hawlk at?
_Buss._ Ile hawlk about your house for one of them.
_Gui._ Come, y'are a glorious ruffin and runne proud
Of the Kings headlong graces; hold your breath,
Or, by that poyson'd vapour, not the King
Shall back your murtherous valour against me.
_Buss._ I would the King would make his presence free
But for one bout betwixt us: by the reverence
Due to the sacred space twixt kings and subjects,
Here would I make thee cast that popular purple
In which thy proud soule sits and braves thy soveraigne.
_Mons._ Peace, peace, I pray thee, peace!
_Buss._ Let him peace first
That made the first warre.
_Mons._ He's the better man.
_Buss._ And, therefore, may doe worst?
_Mons._ He has more titles.
_Buss._ So Hydra had more heads.
_Mons._ He's greater knowne.
_Buss._ His greatnesse is the peoples, mine's mine owne.
_Mons._ He's noblier borne.
_Buss._ He is not; I am noble,
And noblesse in his blood hath no gradation,
But in his merit.
_Gui._ Th'art not nobly borne,
But bastard to the Cardinall of Ambois.
_Buss._ Thou liest, proud Guiserd; let me flie, my Lord!
_Henr._ Not in my face, my eagle! violence flies
The sanctuaries of a princes eyes.
_Buss._ Still shall we chide, and fome upon this bit?

 Prev. P 56/498 next