_Umb._ Danger (the spurre of all great mindes) is ever The curbe to your tame spirits; you respect not (With all your holinesse of life and learning) 80 More then the present, like illiterate vulgars; Your minde (you say) kept in your fleshes bounds Showes that mans will must rul'd be by his power: When by true doctrine you are taught to live Rather without the body then within, 85 And rather to your God still then your selfe. To live to Him is to doe all things fitting His image in which like Himselfe we live; To be His image is to doe those things That make us deathlesse, which by death is onely 90 Doing those deedes that fit eternitie; And those deedes are the perfecting that justice That makes the world last, which proportion is Of punishment and wreake for every wrong, As well as for right a reward as strong: 95 Away, then! use the meanes thou hast to right The wrong I suffer'd. What corrupted law Leaves unperform'd in Kings, doe thou supply, And be above them all in dignitie. _Exit._ _Gui._ Why stand'st thou still thus, and applyest thine eares 100 And eyes to nothing? _Cler._ Saw you nothing here? _Gui._ Thou dream'st awake now; what was here to see? _Cler._ My brothers spirit, urging his revenge. _Gui._ Thy brothers spirit! pray thee mocke me not. _Cler._ No, by my love and service. _Gui._ Would he rise, 105 And not be thundring threates against the Guise? _Cler._ You make amends for enmitie to him, With tenne parts more love and desert of mee; And as you make your hate to him no let Of any love to mee, no more beares hee 110 (Since you to me supply it) hate to you. Which reason and which justice is perform'd In spirits tenne parts more then fleshy men; To whose fore-sights our acts and thoughts lie open: And therefore, since hee saw the treacherie 115 Late practis'd by my brother Baligny, Hee would not honor his hand with the justice (As hee esteemes it) of his blouds revenge, To which my sister needes would have him sworne, Before she would consent to marry him. 120 _Gui._ O Baligny!--who would beleeve there were A man that (onely since his lookes are rais'd Upwards, and have but sacred heaven in sight) Could beare a minde so more then divellish? As for the painted glory of the countenance, 125 Flitting in Kings, doth good for nought esteeme, And the more ill hee does, the better seeme.