I must confess my fortunes are declin'd,
But neither my deservings nor my mind.
I seek but to sustain the right I found
When I was rich, in keeping what is left,
And making good my honour as at best,
Though it be hard: man's right to every thing
Wanes with his wealth; wealth is his surest king.
Yet justice should be still indifferent.

The overplus of kings, in all their might,

Is but to piece out the defects of right:

And this I sue for; nor shall frowns and taunts,
(The common scare-crows of all good-men's suits,)
Nor mis-construction, that doth colour still
Licentiate justice, punishing good for ill,
Keep my free throat from knocking at the sky,
If thunder chid me from my equity.

Hen. Thy equity is to be ever banish'd

From court, and all society of noblesse,

Amongst whom thou throw'st balls of all dissention.
Thou art at peace with nothing but with war;

Hast no heart but to hurt, and eat'st thy heart

If it but think of doing any good:

Thou witchest with thy smiles, suck'st blood with praises ;
Mock'st all humanity; society poison'st;

Cozen'st with virtue; with religion

Betray'st and massacre'st; so vile thyself,
That thou suspect'st perfection in others:
A man must think of all the villanies
He knows in all men, to decypher thee,
That art the centre to impiety.

Away, and tempt me not.

Laf. But you tempt me,

To what, thou Sun be judge, and make him see.

[Exit.

Sav. Now by my dearest Marquisate of Salusse,

Your Majesty hath with the greatest life

Describ'd a wicked man; or rather thrust

Your arm down through him to his very feet,

And pluck'd his inside out, that ever yet
Mine ears did witness, or turn'd ears to eyes;
And those strange characters writ in his face,
Which, at first sight, were hard for me to read,
The doctrine of your speech hath made so plain,
That I run through them like my natural language.
Nor do I like that man's aspects, methinks,

Of all looks where the beams of stars have carv'd

Their pow'rful influences. And (O rare)
What a heroic, more than royal spirit,

Bewray'd you in your first speech, that defies
Protection of vile drones, that eat the honey
Sweat from laborious virtue, and denies
To give those of Navarre, though bred with you,
The benefits and dignities of France.
When little rivers by their greedy currents
Far, far, extended from their mother springs,
Drink up the foreign brooks still as they run,
And force their greatness, when they come to sea,
And justle with the ocean for a room,

O how he roars, and takes them in his mouth,
Digesting them so to his proper streams,
That they are no more seen, he nothing rais'd
Above his usual bounds, yet they devour'd

That of themselves were pleasant, goodly floods."

At the time of Savoy's arrival, Byron happens to be ambassador at the court of the Arch-Duke, where attempts are also made to draw him from his allegiance. The character of Byron is precisely that of D'Ambois, with the addition of an inordinate love of flattery, which appears to have the effect of intoxication upon him. We have the same daring boldness in the field, the same unblushing boasting of his own achievements, the same exalted opinion of his merits, and, in addition, a doating love of adulation, which his enemies know how to take advantage of. On his embassy, he is insidiously approached with the most profound respect, and is thus ushered in to the sound of music:

Byr. 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 liv'd?
The blood turns in my veins; I stand on change,
And shall dissolve in changing; 'tis so full
Of pleasure, not to be contain'd 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 charg❜d,
Or being not discharg'd? To have stuff and form,
And to lie idle, fearful, and unus'd,

Nor form, nor stuff shews. Happy Semele,
That died comprest 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 touch'd
Struck musical accents. Whereso'er I go
They hide the earth from me with coverings rich,
To make me think that I am here in heaven."

[Music again.

The duke does not instantly fall into the designs of the enemies of his master, but, in reply to a long speech made by one of their agents inciting him to join them, he replies:

Byr. O'tis a dangerous and a dreadful thing

To steal prey from a lion, or to hide

A head distrustful in his open'd jaws;

To trust our blood in others' veins, and hang

"Twixt heaven and earth in vapours of their breaths:

To leave a sure space on continuate earth,

And force a gate in jumps from tower to tower,

As they do that aspire from height to height.

The bounds of loyalty are made of glass,
Soon broke, but can in no date be repair'd;
And as the Duke D'Aumall (now here in court)
Flying his country, had his statue torn
Piece-meal with horses; all his goods confiscate;
His arms of honour kick'd about the streets;
His goodly house at Annet raz'd to th' earth;
And, for a strange reproach to his foul treason,
His trees about it cut off by their waists;
So, when men fly the natural clime of truth,
And turn themselves loose, out of all the bounds
Of justice, and the straightway to their ends,
Forsaking all the sure force in themselves,
To seek, without them, that which is not theirs,
The forms of all their comforts are distracted;
The riches of their freedoms forfeited;
Their human noblesse sham'd; the mansions

Of their cold spirits eaten down with cares,
And all their ornaments of wit and valour,

Learning and judgement, cut from all their fruits."

La Fin, being brought over by the Duke of Savoy, is made the means of seducing Byron. He commences his operations in the excellent scene which we are about to quote, where he throws himself in the duke's way, in a pretended fit of furious indignation. It may be necessary to observe that La Fin here hints at the super-natural gifts and skill in magic which he was supposed to possess, and the duke supposed to believe in.

"Byr. Here is the man. My honour'd friend, Lafin, Alone and heavy count'nanc'd! On what terms

Stood th' insultation of the King upon you?

Laf. Why do you ask?

Byr. Since I would know the truth.

Laf. And when you know it, what?
Byr. I'll judge betwixt you,

And, as I may, make even th' excess of either.
Laf. Alas, my lord, not all your loyalty,
Which is in you more than hereditary,

Nor all your valour, which is more than human,
Can do the service you may hope on me,
In sounding my displeas'd integrity.
Stand for the King, as much in policy
As you

have stir'd for him in deeds of arms,
And make yourself his glory, and your country's,
Till you be suck'd as dry, and wrought as lean
As my flay'd carcase: you shall never close
With me as you imagine.

Byr. You much wrong me

To think me an intelligencing lord.

Laf. I know not how your so affected zeal

To be reputed a true-hearted subject,
May stretch or turn you. I am desperate;
If I offend you, I am in your power:

I care not how I tempt your conq'ring fury;
I am pre-destin❜d to too base an end

To have the honour of your wrath destroy me,
And be a worthy object for your sword.

I lay my hand, and head too, at your feet,

As I have ever; here I hold it still :

End me directly, do not go about.

Byr. How strange is this! The shame of his disgrace

Hath made him lunatick.

Laf. Since the King hath wrong'd me,
He thinks I'll hurt myself: no, no, my lord;
I know that all the kings in Christendom,
If they should join in my revenge, would prove
Weak foes to him, still having you to friend.
If you were gone (I care not if you tell him)
I might be tempted then to right myself.

Byr. He has a will to me, and dares not shew it:
His state decay'd, and he disgrac'd, distracts him.
Re-enter Lafin.

Laf. Change not my words, my lord. I only said
I might be tempted then to right myself—
Temptation to treason is no treason;

And that word "tempted" was conditional too,

I pray

inform the truth.

Byr. Stay, injur'd man, and know I am your friend. Far from these base and mercenary reaches

I am, I swear to you.

Laf. You may be so;

And yet you'll give me leave to be Laffin,
A poor and expuate humour of the court:

But what good blood came out with me; what veins
And sinews of the triumphs now it makes,
I list not vaunt; yet will I now confess,
And dare assume it, I have power to add
To all his greatness, and make yet more fix'd
His bold security. Tell him this, my lord;
And this (if all the spirits of earth and air
Be able to enforce) I can make good.
If knowledge of the sure events of things,
Even from the rise of subjects into kings,
And falls of kings to subjects, hold a power
Of strength to work it, I can make it good.
And tell him this too: if in midst of winter

To make black groves grow green; to still the thunder;
And cast out able flashes from mine eyes,
To beat the light'ning back into the skies,
Prove power to do it, I can make it good.
And tell him this too: if to lift the sea
Up to the stars, when all the winds are still,
And keep it calm when they are most enrag'd;

To make earth's driest palms sweat humourous springs;
To make fix'd rocks walk, and loose shadows stand;

To make the dead speak; midnight see the sun;

[Exit.