THE DUKE OF GUISE.  
A TRAGEDY. ACTED BY THEIR Majesty's Servants.  
WRITTEN By Mr. DRYDEN, and Mr. LEE.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Plutarch. in Agesilao. 
LONDON, Printed by T. H. for R. Bentley in Russel-street, near the Piazza in Covent-Garden, and J. Tonson at the Judge's Head in Chancery-lane. M.DC.LXXXIII.   

To the Right Honourable LAURENCE, EARL of ROCHESTER, etc.  
My Lord,  
THE Authors of this Poem, present it bumbly to your Lordship's Patronage, if you shall think it worthy of that honour. It has already been a Confessor, and was almost made a Martyr for the Royal Cause. But having stood two Trials from its Enemies, one before it was Acted, another in the Representation, and having been in both acquitted, 'tis now to stand the Public Censure in the reading: Where since, of necessity, it must have the same Enemies, we hope it may also find the same Friends; and therein we are secure not only of the greater-Number, but of the more Honest and Loyal Party. We only expected bare Justice in the Permission to have it Acted; and that we had, after a severe and long Examination, from an Upright and knowing Judge, who having heard both sides, and examined the Merits of the Cause in a strict perusal of the Play, gave Sentence for us, that it was neither a Libel, nor a Parallel of particular Persons. In the Representation itself, it was persecuted with so notorious Malice by one side, that it procured us the Partiality of the other; so that the Favour more than recompensed the Prejudice: And 'tis happier to have been saved (if so we were) by the Indulgence of our good and faithful Fellow-Subjects, than by our own Deserts; because thereby the weakness of the Faction is discovered, which in us, at that time, attacked the Government; and stood combined, like the Members of the Rebellious League, against the Lawful Sovereign Authority. To what Topique will they have recourse, when they are manifestly beaten from their chief Post, which has always been Popularity, and Majority of Voices? They will tell us, That the Voices of a People are not to be gathered in a Playhouse; and yet even there, the Enemies as well as Friends have free Admission; but while our Argument was ferviceable to their Interests, they could boast that the theatres were True Protestant, and came insulting to the Plays, where their own Triumphs were represented. But let them now assure themselves, that they can make the major part of no Assembly, except it be a Meetinghouse. Their Tide of Popularity is spent, and the natural Current of Obedience is in spite of them, at last prevalent. In which, my Lord, after the merciful Providence of God, the unshaken Resolution, and prudent Carriage of the King, and the inviolable Duty, and manifest Innocence of his Royal Highness, the prudent Management of the Ministers is also most conspicuous. I am not particular in this Commendation, because I am unwilling to raise Envy to your Lordship, who are too just not to desire that Praise should be communicated to others, which was the common Endeavor and Co-operation of all. 'Tis enough, my Lord, that your own Part was neither obscure in it, nor unhazardous. And if ever this excellent Government so well established by the Wisdom of our Forefathers, and so much shaken by the Folly of this Age, shall recover its ancient Splendour, Posterity cannot be so ungrateful, as to forget those, who in the worst of Times, have stood undaunted by their King and Country, and for the Safeguard of both, have exposed themselves to the malice of false Patriots, and the madness of an headstrong Rabble. But since this glorious Work is yet unfinished, and though we have reason to hope well of the success, yet the Event depends on the unsearchable Providence of Almighty God, 'tis no time to raise Trophies, while the Victory is in dispute: but every man by your examplen, to contribute what is in his power, to maintain so just a Cause, on which depends the future Settlement and Prosperity of Three Nations. The Pilot's Prayer to Neptune was not amiss, in the middle of the Storm: Thou may'st do with me, O Neptune, what thou pleasest, but I will be sure to hold fast the Rudder. We are to trust firmly in the Deity, but so as not to forget, that be commonly works by second Causes, and admits of our Endeavours with his concurrence. For our own parts, we are sensible as we ought, how little we can contribute with our weak assistance. The most we can boast of, is, that we are not so inconsiderable as to want Enemies, whom we have raised to ourselves on no other account, than that we are not of their number: and since that's their Quarrel, they shall have daily occasion to hate us more. 'Tis not, my Lord, that any man delights to see himself pasquined and affronted by their inveterate Scribblers, but on the other side it ought to be our glory, that themselves believe not of us what they writ. Reasonable men are well satisfied for whose sakes the venom of their Party is shed on us, because they see that at the same time, our Adversaries spare not those to whom they own Allegiance and Veneration. Their Despair has pushed them to break those Bonds; and 'tis observable, that the lower they are driven, the more violently they writ: As Lucifer and his Companions were only proud when Angels, but grew malicious when Devils. Let them rail, since 'tis the only solace of their miseries, and the only revenge, which we hope they now can take. The greatest and the best of men are above their reach, and for our meanness, though they assault us like Foot-padders in the dark, their Blows have done us little barm; we yet live, to justify ourselves in open day, to vindicate our Loyalty to the Government, and to assure your Lordship, with all Submission and Sincerity, that we are  
Your LORDSHIP'S Most Obedient, Faithful Servants, JOHN DRYDEN, NAT. LEE.   

PROLOGUE.  Written by Mr. Dryden: Spoken by Mr. Smith. 

OUR Play's a Parallel: The Holy League  
Begot our Covenant: Guisards got the Whig:  
Whate'er our hot-brained Sheriffs did advance,  
Was, like our Fashions, first produced in France:  
And, when worn, out, well scourged, and banished there,  
Sent over, like their godly Beggars here.  
Could the same Trick, twice played, our Nation gull?  
It looks as if the Devil were grown dull;  
Or served us up, in scorn, his broken Meat,  
And thought we were not worth a better Cheat.  
The fulsome Covenant, one would think in reason,  
Had given us all our Bellys-full of Treason:  
And yet, the Name but changed, our nasty Nation  
Chaws its own Excrement, th' Association.  
'Tis true, we have not learned their poisoning way,  
For that's a mode but newly come in play;  
Besides, Your Drug's uncertain to prevail;  
But your True Protestant can never fail,  
With that compendious Instrument, a Flail.  
Go on; and by't, even though the Hook lies bare;  
Twice in one Age expel the lawful Heir:  
Once more decide Religion by the Sword;  
And purchase for us a new Tyrant Lord.  
Pray for your King; but yet your Purses spare;  
Make Him not Twopences richer by your Prayer.  
To show you love Him much, chastise Him more;  
And make Him very Great, and very Poor.  
Push Him to Wars, but still no Pence advance;  
Let Him lose England, to recover France.  
Cry Freedom up with Popular noisy Votes:  
And get enough to cut each others Throats,  
Lop all the Rights that fence your Monarch's Throne;  
For fear of too much Power, pray leave Him none.  
A noise was made of Arbitrary Sway;  
But in Revenge, you whigs, have found a way,  
An Arbitrary Duty now to pay.  
Let His own Servants turn, to save their stake;  
Glean from His Plenty, and His Wants forsake.  
But let some Judas near His Person stay,  
To swallow the last Sop, and then betray.  
Make London independent of the Crown:  
A Realm apart; the Kingdom of the Town.  
Let Ignoramus Juries find no Traitors:  
And Ignoramus Poets scribble Satyrs.  
And, that your meaning none may fail to scan,  
Do, what in Coffeehouses you began;  
Pull down the Master, and Set up the Man.    

EPILOGUE.  Written by the same Author: Spoken by Mrs. Cook. 

MUCH Time and Trouble this poor Play has cost;  
And, Faith, I doubted once the Cause was lost.  
Yet no one Man was meant; nor Great, nor Small;  
Our Poets, like frank Gamesters, threw at All.  
They took no single Aim: ╌  
Butler, like bold Boys, true to their Prince and hearty,  
Huzza'd, and fired Broadsides at the whole Party.  
Duels are Crimes; but when the Cause is right,  
In Battle, every Man is bound to fight.  
For what should hinder Me to sell my Skin  
Dear as I could, if once my hand were in?  
Se Defendendo never was a Sin.  
'Tis a fine World, my Masters, right or wrong,  
The whigs must talk, and Tories hold their Tongue.  
They must do all they can╌  
But We, Forsooth, must bear a Christian mind;  
And fight, like Boys; with One Hand tied behind;  
Nay, and when one Boy's down, 'twere wondrous wise,  
To cry, Box fair, and give him time to rise.  
When Fortune favours, none but Fools will dally:  
Would any of you Sparks, if Nan or maly  
Tipped you th' inviting Wink, stand shall I, shall I?  
A Trimmer cried, (that heard me tell this Story)  
Fie, Mistress Cook! Faith you're too rank a Tory!  
Wish not whigs hanged, but pity their hard Cases;  
You Women love to see Men make wry Faces.  
Pray, Sir, said I, don't think me such a Jew,  
I say no more, but give the devil his due.  
Lenitives, says he, suit best with our Condition.  
Jack Catch, says I, 's an excellent Physician.  
I love no Bloud╌Nor I, Sir, as I breath;  
But hanging is a fine dry kind of Death.  
We Trimmers are for holding all things even:  
Yes╌just like him that hung twixt Hell and Heaven.  
Have we not had men's Lives enough already?  
Yes sure: ╌but you're for holding all things steady:  
Now since the Weight hangs all on one side, Brother,  
You Trimmers should, to poise it, hang on tother.  
Damned Neuters, in their middle way of steering,  
Are neither Fish, nor Flesh, nor good Red-Herring:  
Not whigs, nor Tories they; nor this, nor that;  
Not Birds, nor Beasts; but just a kind of Bat:  
A Twilight Animal; true to neither Cause,  
With Tory Wings, but Whiggish Teeth and Claws.    

Dramatis Personae.  
The King 
Mr. Kynaston.  Duke of Guise 
Mr. Betterton.  Duke of Mayenne 
Mr. Jevon.  Grillon 
Mr. Smith.  The Cardinal of Guise 
Mr. Wiltshyre.  Archbishop of Lion's 
Mr. Perin.  Alphonso Corso 
Mr. Monfert.  Polin 
Mr. Bowman.  Aumalo 
Mr. Carlisle.  Bussy 
Mr. Saunders.  The Curate of St. Eustace 
Mr. Vnderhill.  Malicorne 
Mr. Percival.  Melanax, a Spirit 
Mr. Gillo.  Two Sheriffs 
Bright and Samford.  Citizens and Rabble, etc. 
  

WOMEN.  Queen-Mother 
Lady Slingsby.  Marmoutier 
Mrs. Barry.   
SCENE, PARIS.   

THE DUKE of GUISE.  

ACT. I.  

SCEN. I.  The Council of Sixteen Seated: An Empty Chair prepared for the Duke of Guise. Bussy and Polin two of the Sixteen. Bussy. 
LIghts there! more Lights: what burn the Tapers dim,  
When glorious Guise, the Moses, Gideon, David,  
The Saviour of the Nation, makes approach?  Pol. 
And therefore are we met; the whole Sixteen  
That sway the Crowd of Paris, guide their Votes,  
Manage their Purses, Persons, Fortunes, Lives,  
To mount the Guise, where merit calls him, high;  
And give him a whole Heaven, for room to shine.  Enter Curate of St. Eustace. Buss. 
The Curate of S. Eustace comes at last;  
But, Father, why so late?  Cur. 
I have been taking godly pains, to satisfy some Scruples raised amongst weak Brothers of our Party, that were staggering in the Cause.  Pol. 
What could they find the Object?  Cur. 
They thought, to Arm against the King was Treason.  Buss. 
I hope you set 'em right?  Cur. 
Yes; and for answer, I produced this Book.  
A Calvinist Minister of Orleans  
Writ this, to justify the Admiral  
For taking Arms against the King deceased:  
Wherein he proves that irreligious Kings  
May justly be deposed, and put to death.  Buss. 
To borrow Arguments from Heretic Books  
Methinks was not so prudent.  Cur. 
Yes; from the Devil, if it would help our Cause.  
The Author was indeed a Heretic;  
The Matter of the Book is good and pious.  Pol. 
But one prime Article of our Holy League,  
Is to preserve the King, his Power and Person.  Cur. 
That must be said, you know, for decency;  
A pretty Blind to make the Shoot secure.  Buss. 
But did the Primitive Christians ere rebel,  
When under Heathen Lords? I hope they did.  Cur. 
No sure, they did not; for they had not Power;  
The Conscience of a People is their Power.  Pol. 
Well; the next Article in our Solemn Covenant  
Has cleared the Point again.  Buss. 
What is't? I should be glad to find the King  
No safer than needs must?  Pol. 
That in case of Opposition from any person whatsoever╌  Cur. 
That's well, that's well; then the King is not excepted, if he oppose us╌  Pol. 
We are obliged to join as one, to punish  
All, who attempt to hinder or disturb us.  Buss. 
'Tis a plain Case; the King's included in the Punishment,  
In case he rebel against the People.  Pol. 
But how can he rebel?  Cur. 
I'll make it out: Rebellion is an Insurrection against the Government; but they that have the Power are actually the Government: Therefore if the People have the Power, the Rebellion is in the King.  Buss. 
A most convincing Argument for Faction.  Cur. 
For Arming, if you please; but not for Faction.  
For still the Faction is the fewest number;  
So, what they call the Lawful Government,  
Is now the Faction; for the most are ours.  Pol. 
Since we are proved to be above the King; I would gladly understand whom we are to obey; or whether we are to be all Kings together?  Cur. 
Are you a Member of the League, and ask that Question?  
There's an Article, that, I may say, is as necessary as any  
In the Creed: Namely, that we, the said Associates, are  
Sworn to yield ready Obedience, and Faithful Service, to that  
Head which shall be deputed.  Buss. 
'Tis most manifest, that by Virtue of our Oath  
We are all Subjects to the Duke of Guise. The King's  
An Officer that has betrayed his Trust; and therefore we have turned him out of Service.  Omnes. 
Agreed, agreed.  Enter the Duke of Guise; Cardinal of Guise, Aumale: Torches before them. The Duke takes the Chair. Buss. 
Your Highness enters in a lucky hour;  
Th'unanimous Vote you heard, confirms your Choice,  
As Head of Paris, and the Holy League.  Card. 
I say Amen to that.  Pol. 
You are our Champion; Buckler of our Faith.  Card. 
The King, like Saul, is Heaven's repent Choice;  
You his Anointed one, on better thought.  Guise. 
I'm what you please to call me: Any thing,  
Lieutenant General, Chief, or Constable,  
Good Decent Names, that only mean your Slave.  Buss. 
You chased the Germans hence, Exiled Navarre;  
And rescued France from Heretics and Strangers.  Aum. 
What he and all of us have done, is known.  
What's our Reward? Our Offices are lost,  
Turned out like Laboured Oxen, after Harvest,  
To the bare Commons of the withered Field.  Buss. 
Our Charters will go next: Because we Sheriffs  
Permit no Justice to be done on those  
The Court calls Rebels, but we call them Saints.  Guise 
Yes; we are all involved, as Heads, or Parties:  
Dipped in the noisy Crime of State, called Treason:  
And Traitors we must be, to King, or Country.  Buss. 
Why then my Choice is made.  Pol. 
And mine.  Omn. 
And all.  Card. 
Heaven is itself Head of the Holy League;  
And all the Saints are Cov'nanters, and Guisards.  Guise 
What say you, Curate?  Cur. 
I hope well, my Lord.  Card. 
That is, he hopes you mean to make him Abbot,  
And he deserves your care of his Preferment.  
For all his Prayers are Curses on the Government;  
And all his Sermons Libels on the King.  
In short, a Pious, Hearty, Factious Priest.  Guise. 
All that are here my Friends, shall share my Fortunes;  
There's Spoil, Preferments, Wealth enough in France,  
'Tis but deserve and have: The Spanish King  
Consigns me fifty thousand Crowns a Week  
To raise and to foment a Civil-War.  
'Tis true, a Pension from a Foreign Prince  
Sounds Treason in the Letter of the Law,  
But good intentions justify the deed.  Cur. 
Heaven's good; the Cause is good; the Money's good;  
No matter whence it comes.  Buss. 
Our City Bands, are twenty thousand strong;  
Well Disciplined, well Armed, well seasoned Traitors;  
Thick rinded heads, that leave no room for Kernel;  
Shop Consciences, of proof against an Oath,  
Preached up, and ready tined for a Rebellion.  Guise. 
Why then the Noble Plot is fit for birth;  
And Labouring France cries out for Midwife-hands.  
We missed surprising of the King at Blois,  
When last the States were held; 'twas over sight:  
Beware we make not such another Blot.  Card. 
This Holy time of Lent we have him sure;  
He goes unguarded, mixed with whipping Friars,  
In that Procession, he's more fit for Heaven:  
What hinders us to seize the Royal Penitent,  
And close him in a Cloister?  Cur. 
Or dispatch him: I love to make all sure.  Guise. 
No; guard him safe;  
Thin Diet will do well; 'twill starve him into Reason,  
Till he exlude his Brother of Navarre,  
And graft Succession on a worthier Choice:  
To favour this, five hundred Men in Arms,  
Shall stand prepared to enter at your call;  
And speed the Work: St. Martin's Gate was named:  
But the Sheriff Conty, who Commands that Ward,  
Refused me passage there.  Buss. 
I know that Conty:  
A Snivelling, Conscientious, Loyal Rogue:  
He'll Peach, and Ruin all.  Card. 
Give out he's Arbitrary; a Navarrist;  
A Heretic; discredit him betimes;  
And make his Witness void.  Cur. 
I'll swear him Guilty.  
I swallow Oaths as easy as Snapdragon,  
Mock-Fire that never burns.  Guise. 
Then Bussy, be't your care t'admit my Troops,  
At Porte St. Honore: (riseth) Night wears apace,  
And Daylight must not peep on Dark Designs.  
I will myself to Court: Pay Formal Duty;  
Take leave; and to my Government retire:  
Impatient to be soon recalled; to see  
The King Imprisoned, and the Nation free.  [Exeunt all but Guise. Enter Malicorn solus. Mal. 
Each dismal Minute when I call to Mind  
The Promise that I made the Prince of Hell,  
In one and twenty years to be his Slave,  
Of which near twelve are gone, my Soul runs back,  
The Wards of reason roll into their Spring.  
O horrid thought! but one and twenty years,  
And twelve near past, then to be steeped in Fire,  
Dashed against Rocks, or snatched from molten Lead,  
Reeking, and dropping, piecemeal born by Winds,  
And quenched ten thousand fathom in the deep!  
But hark! he comes, see there, my Blood stands still,  
My Spirits start an end for Guise's Fate.  Knocking at the Door. A Devil rises. Mal. 
What Counsel does the Fate of Guise require?  Deu. 
Remember with his Prince there's no delay,  
But, the Sword drawn, to fling the Sheath away;  
Let not the fear of Hell his Spirit grieve,  
The Tomb is still, whatever Fools believe;  
Laugh at the Tales which withered Sages bring,  
Proverbs and Morals, let the Waxed King  
That rules the Hive, be born without a Sting;  
Let Guise by Blood resolve to mount to Power,  
And he is Great as Mecha's Emperor;  
He comes, bid him not stand on Altar Vows,  
But then strike deepest, when he lowest bows;  
Tell him Fate's awed when an Usurper Springs,  
And joins to crowed out Just Indulgent Kings.  [Vanishes! Enter the Duke of Guise, and Duke of Mayen. May. 
All Offices and Dignities he gives  
To your professed and most inveterate Foes;  
But if he were inclined, as we could wish him,  
There is a Lady Regent at his Ear,  
That never Pardons.  Guise. 
Poison on her Name,  
Take my hand on't, that Cormorant Dowager  
Will never rest, till she has all our Heads  
In her lap. I was at Bayon with her,  
When She, the King, and Grisly d'Alva met;  
Methinks I see her listening now before me,  
Marking the very motion of his Beard,  
His Opening Nostrils and his Dropping Lids,  
I hear him Croak too to the Gaping Council;  
Fish for the great Fish, take no care for Frogs,  
Cut off the Poppy-Heads, Sir; Madam, charm  
the Winds but fast, the Billows will be still.  May. 
But Sir, how comes it you should be thus warm,  
Still pushing Councils when among your Friends;  
Yet at the Court Cautious and cold as Age,  
Your Voice, your Eyes, your Mien so different,  
You seem to me two Men.  Guise. 
The Reason's plain,  
Hot with my Friends, because the Question given,  
I start the Judgement right where others drag.  
This is the Effect of Equal Elements,  
And Atoms justly poised; nor should you wonder  
More at the strength of Body than of Mind;  
'Tis equally the same to see me plunge  
Headlong into the Seine all over Armed,  
And Blow against the Torrent to my point,  
As 'twas to hear my Judgement on the Germans;  
This to another Man would be a brag,  
Or at the Court among my Enemies,  
To be as I am here quite off my Guard,  
Would make me such another thing as Grillon,  
A blunt, hot, honest, downright, valiant Fool.  May. 
Yet this you must allow a failure in you,  
You love his Niece, and to a Politician,  
All Passion's bane, but Love directly death.  Guise. 
False, false, my Mayen, thou'rt but half Guise again,  
Were she not such a wondrous Composition;  
A Soul so flushed as mine is with Ambition,  
Sagacious and so nice, must have disdained her;  
But she was made when Nature was in humour,  
As if a Grillon got her on the Queen,  
Where all the honest Atoms fought their way;  
Took a full Tincture of the Mother's Wit,  
But left the dregs of Wickedness behind.  May. 
Have you not told her what we have in hand?  Guise. 
My utmost aim has been to hid it from her,  
But there I'm short, by the long Chain of Causes  
She has scanned it, just as if she were my Soul,  
And though I flew about with Circumstances,  
Denials, Oaths, Improbabilities;  
Yet through the Histories of our Lives, she looked,  
She saw, she overcame.  May. 
Why then, we're all undone.  Guise. 
Again you err.  
chaste as she is, she would as soon give up  
Her Honour, as betray me to the King;  
I tell thee, she's the Character of Heaven;  
Such an habitual over-Womanly Goodness,  
She dazzles, walks mere Angel upon Earth.  
But see, she comes, call the Cardinal Guise,  
While Malicorn attends for some Dispatches,  
Before I take my farewell of the Court.  Enter Marmoutire. Mar. 
Ah Guise, you are undone.  Guise. 
How, Madam?  Mar. 
Lost,  
Beyond the possibility of hope,  
Despair, and die.  Guise. 
You menace deeply Madam,  
And should this come from any Mouth but yours,  
My smile should answer how the ruin touched me.  Mar. 
Why do you leave the Court?  Guise. 
The Court leaves me.  Mar. 
Were there no more but weariness of State,  
Or could you like great Scipio retire,  
Call Rome ungrateful, and sit down with that;  
Such inward Gallantry would gain you more  
Than all the sullied Conquests you can boast;  
But Oh, you want that Roman Mastery;  
You have too much of the tumultuous times.  
And I must mourn the Fate of your Ambition.  Guise. 
Because the King disdains my Services,  
Must I not let him know I dare begun?  
What when I feel his Council on my Neck,  
Shall I not cast 'em backward if I can;  
And at his Feet make known their villainy?  Mar. 
No Guise, not at his Feet, but on his Head;  
For there you strike.  Guise. 
Madam, you wrong me now;  
For still whatever shall come in Fortune's whirl,  
His Person must be safe.  Mar. 
I cannot think it.  
However, your last words confess too much.  
Confess, what need I urge that Evidence,  
When every hour I see you Court the Crowd,  
When with the shouts of the Rebellious Rabble,  
I see you born on shoulders to Cabals;  
Where with the Traitorous Council of Sixteen,  
You sit and Plot the Royal Henry's Death.  
Cloud the Majestic Name with Fumes of Wine,  
Infamous Scrowls, and Treasonable Verse;  
While, on the other side, the Name of Guise,  
By the whole Kennel of the Slaves, is rung,  
Pamphleteers, Ballad-mongers sing your Ruin,  
While all the Vermin of the vile Parisians  
Toss up their greasy Caps where ere you pass,  
And hurl your dirty Glories in your Face.  Guise. 
Can I help this?  Mar. 
By Heaven, I'd Earth myself,  
Rather than live to act such black Ambition:  
But, Sir, you seek it with your Smiles and Bows,  
This Side and that Side congeing to the Crowd;  
You have your Writers too, that cant your Battles,  
That style you the New David, Second Moses,  
Prop of the Church, Deliverer of the People.  
Thus from the City, as from the Heart they spread  
Thro' all the Provinces, alarm the Countries,  
Where they run forth in Heaps, bellowing your Wonders,  
Then cry, The King, the King's a Huguenot,  
And, spite of us, will have Navarre succeed,  
Spite of the Laws, and spite of our Religion:  
But we will pull 'em down, down with 'em, down.  [Knelt. Guise. 
Ha', Madam! Why this Posture?  Mar. 
Hear me, Sir:  
For, if 'tis possible, my Lord, I'll move you.  
Look back, return, implore the Royal Mercy,  
ere 'tis too late, I beg you by these Tears,  
These Sighs, and by th' ambitious Love you bear me;  
By all the Wounds of your poor groaning Country,  
That bleeds to death, O seek the Best of Kings,  
Kneel, fling your stubborn Body at his Feet:  
Your Pardon shall be signed, your Country saved,  
Virgins and Matrons all shall sing your Fame,  
And every Babe shall bless the Guise's Name.  Guise. 
O rise, thou Image of the Deity;  
You shall prevail, I will do any thing;  
You have broke the very Gall of my Ambition,  
And all my Powers now float in Peace again:  
Be satisfied that I will see the King,  
Kneel to him, ere I Journey to Champagn,  
And beg a kind Farewell.  Mar. 
No, no, my Lord;  
I see, thro' that, you but withdraw a while,  
To muster all the Forces that you can,  
And then rejoin the Council of Sixteen.  
You must not go.  Guise. 
All the Heads of the League  
Expect me, and I have engaged my Honour.  Mar. 
Would all those Heads were off, so yours were saved.  
Once more, O Guise, the weeping Marmoutire  
Entreats you donot go.  Guise. 
Is't possible  
That Guise should say, in this he must refuse you?  Mar. 
Go then, my Lord. I late received a Letter  
From one at Court, who tells me the King loves me:  
Read it, there is no more than what you hear.  
I have Jewels offered too, perhaps may take 'em:  
And if you go from Paris, I'll to Court.  Guise. 
But, Madam, I have often heard you say,  
You loved not Courts.  Mar. 
Perhaps I have changed my Mind:  
Nothing as yet could draw me, but a King,  
And such a King, so Good, so Just, so Great,  
That at his Birth the Heavenly Council paused,  
And then at last cried out, This is a Man.  Guise. 
Come, 'tis but Counterfeit; you dare not go.  Mar. 
Go to your Government, and try.  Guise. 
I will.  Mar. 
Then I'll to Court, nay, to the King.  Guise. 
By Heaven  
I swear, you cannot, shall not, dare not see him.  Mar. 
By Heaven I can, I dare, nay, and I will:  
And nothing but your Stay shall hinder me;  
For now, methinks, I long for't.  Guise. 
Possible!  Mar. 
I'll give you yet a little time to think:  
But if I hear you go to take your leave,  
I'll meet you there, before the Throne I'll stand,  
Nay, you shall see me kneel, and kiss his Hand.  [Exit. Guise. 
Furies and Hell! She does but try me: Ha!  
This is the Mother-Queen and Espernon,  
Abbot Delbene, Alphonso Corso too,  
All packed to plot, and turn me into Madness.  [Reading the Letter. Enter Cardinal Guise, Duke of Mayen, Malicorn, etc. 
Ha! can it be! Madam, the King loves you.  [Reads. 
But Vengeance I will have; to pieces, thus,  
To pieces with 'em all.  [Tears the Letter. Card. 
Speak lower.  Guise. 
No;  
By all the Torments of this galling Passion,  
I'll hollow the Revenge I vow, so loud,  
My Father's Ghost shall hear me up to Heaven.  Card. 
Contain yourself; this Outrage will undo us.  Guise. 
All things are ripe, and Love new points their Ruin.  
Ha! my good Lords, what if the murdering Council  
Were in our Power, should they escape our Justice?  
I see by each Man's laying of his Hand  
Upon his Sword, you swear the like Revenge.  
For me, I wish that mine may both rot off╌  Card. 
No more.  May. 
The Council of Sixteen attend you.  Guise. 
I go╌That Vermin may devour my Limbs,  
That I may die like the late puling Francis,  
Under the Barber's Hands, Imposthumes choke me,  
If while alive I cease to chew their Ruin;  
Alphonso Corso, Grillon, Priest, together,  
To hang 'em in Effigy, nay, to tread,  
Drag, stamp, and grind 'em, after they are dead,  [Exeunt   

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  Enter Queen-Mother, Abbot Delbene, Polin. Q. M. 
PRay mark the Form of the Conspiracy;  
Guise gives it out he Journeys to Champagn,  
But lurks indeed at Lagny, hard by Paris,  
Where every Hour he hears, and gives Instructions.  
Mean time the Council of Sixteen assure him  
They have Twenty thousand Citizens in Arms.  
Is it not so, Polin?  Pol. 
True, on my Life;  
And if the King doubts the Discovery,  
Send me to the Bastile till all be proved.  Q. M. 
Call Colonel Grillon, the King would speak with him.  [Exit Polin. Abbot. 
Was ever Age like this?  Q. M. 
Polin is honest:  
Beside, the whole Proceeding is so like  
The hare-brained Rout, I guessed as much before.  
Know then, it is resolved to seize the King,  
When next he goes in Penitential Weeds,  
Among the Friars, without his usual Guards;  
Then, under show of Popular Sedition,  
For Safety, shut him in a Monastery,  
And sacrifice his Favourites to their Rage.  Abbot. 
When is this Council to be held again?  Q. M. 
Immediately upon the Duke's departure.  Abbot. 
Why sends not then the King sufficient Guards,  
To seize the Fiends, and hue 'em into pieces?  Q. M. 
'Tis in appearance easy, but th' Effect  
Most hazardous; for strait, upon th' Alarm,  
The City would be sure to be in Arms:  
Therefore to undertake, and not to compass,  
Were to come off with Ruin and Dishonour.  
You know th' Italian Proverb, Bisogna Copriersi:  
He that will venture on a Hornets Nest,  
Should Arm his Head, and Buckler well his Breast.  Abbot. 
But wherefore seems the King so unresolved?  Q. M. 
I brought Polin, and made the Demonstration,  
Told him Necessity cried out to take  
A Resolution to preserve his Life,  
And look on Guise as a reclaimless Rebel.  
But thro' the Natural Sweetness of his Temper,  
And dangerous Mercy, coldly he replied,  
Madam, I will consider what you say.  Abbot. 
Yet after all, could we but fix him.  Q. M. 
Right,  
The Business were more firm for this Delay;  
For Noblest Natures, though they suffer long,  
When once provoked, they turn the Face to Danger.  
But see, he comes, Alphonso Corso with him;  
Let us withdraw, and when 'tis fit, rejoin him.  [Exeunt. Enter King, Alphonso Corso. King. 
Alphonso Corso.  Alph. 
Sir.  King. 
I think thou lov'st me.  Alph. 
More than my Life.  King. 
That's much; yet I believe thee.  
My Mother has the Judgement of the World,  
And all things move by That? but, my Alphonso,  
She has a Cruel Wit..  Alph. 
The Provocation, Sir.  King. 
I know it well:  
But if thou'dst have my Heart within thy Hand,  
All Conjurations blot the Name of Kings.  
What Honours, Interest, were the World to buy him,  
Shall make a Brave Man smile, and do a Murder?  
Therefore I hate the Memory of Brutus,  
I mean the latter, so cried up in Story.  
Caesar did ill, but did it in the Sun,  
And foremost in the Field; but sneaking Brutus,  
Whom none but Cowards and white-livered Knaves  
Would dare commend, lagging behind his Fellows,  
His Dagger in his Bosom, stabbed his Father.  
This is a Blot which Tully's Eloquence  
Can ne'er wipe off, though the mistaken Man  
Makes bold to call those Traitors, Men Divine.  Alph. 
Tully was wise, but wanted Constancy.  Enter Queen-Mother, Abbot Delbene. Q. M. 
Good-even, Sir; 'tis just the time you ordered  
To wait on your Decrees.  King. 
Oh, Madam.  Q. M. 
Sir.  King. 
Oh Mother, but I cannot make it way;  
Chaos and Shades, 'tis huddled up in Night.  Q. M. 
Speak then, for Speech is morning to the Mind,  
It spreads the Beauteous Images abroad,  
Which else lie furled and clouded in the Soul.  King. 
You would Embark me in a Sea of Blood.  Q. M. 
You see the Plot directly on your Person;  
But give it over, I did but state the Case.  
Take Guise into your Heart, and drive your Friends,  
Let Knaves in Shops prescribe you how to sway,  
And when they read your Acts with their vile Breath,  
Proclaim aloud, they like not this or that,  
Then in a drove come Lowing to the Lovure,  
And cry they'll have it mended, that they will;  
Or you shall be no King.  King. 
'Tis true, the People  
ne'er know a Mean, when once they get the Power;  
But O, if the Design we lay should fail,  
Better the Traitors never should be touched,  
If Execution cries not out 'tis done.  Q. M. 
No Sir; you cannot fear the sure Design;  
But I have lived too long, since my own Blood  
Dares not Confide in her that gave him Being.  King. 
Stay Madam, stay, come back, forgive my fears;  
Where all our thoughts should creep like deepest streams,  
Know then I hate aspiring, Guise to Death,  
Whored Margerite, Plots upon my life,  
And shall I not Revenge?  Q. M. 
Why this is Harry;  
Harry at Moncontour, when in his Bloom  
He saw the Admiral Colligny's Back.  King. 
O this Whale Guise, with all the Lorain Fry,  
Might I but view him after his Plots and Plunges,  
Struck on those Cowering Shallows that await him.  
This were a Florence Masterpiece indeed.  Q. M. 
He comes to take his leave.  King. 
Then for Champagn;  
But lies in wait till Paris is in Arms.  
Call Grillon in, all that I beg you now,  
Is to be hushed upon the Consultation,  
As Urns that never blab.  Q. M. 
Doubt not your Friends;  
Love 'em, and then you need not fear your Foes.  Enter Grillon. King. 
Welcome my Honestman, my old tried Friend.  
Why dost thou fly me Grillon, and Retire?  Grill. 
Rather let me demand your Majesty,  
Why fly you from yourself? I've heard you say,  
You'd Arm against the League, why do you not?  
The Thoughts of such as you, are Starts Divine,  
And when you mould with second Cast the Spirit,  
The Air, the Life, the Golden Vapour's gone.  King. 
Soft, my Old Friend, Guise Plots upon my life,  
Polin shall tell thee more; hast thou not heard  
Th'unsufferable Affronts he daily offers,  
War without Treasure on the Hugonots,  
While I am forced against my bent of Soul,  
Against all Laws, all Custom, Right, Succession,  
To cast Navarre from the Imperial Line.  Grill. 
Why do you Sir? Death, let me tell the Traitor?  King. 
Peace, Guise is going to his Government;  
You are his Foe of Old: Go to him Grillon;  
Visit him as from me, to be Employed  
In this great War against the Hugonots;  
And prithee tell him roundly of his Faults;  
No farther, Honest Grillon.  Grill. 
Shall I fight him?  King. 
I charge thee not.  Grill. 
If he provokes me, strike him?  
You'll Grant me that?  King. 
Not so, my Honest Soldier.  
Yet speak to him.  Grill. 
I will by Heaven to th' purpose,  
And if he force a beating, who can help it.  [Exit. Grill. King. 
Fellow Alphonso, when the storm is up,  
Call me to part 'em.  Q. M. 
Grillon, to ask him Pardon,  
Will let Guise know, we are not in the Dark.  King. 
You hit the Judgement; yet, O yet, there's more,  
Something upon my heart, after these Counsels,  
So soft, and so unworthy to be named.  Q. M. 
They say that Grillon's Niece is come to Court,  
And means to kiss Your Hand.  [Exit. Q. Mother. King. 
Can I but hope it.  
O my Dear Father pardon me in this,  
And then enjoin me all that Man can suffer;  
But sure the Powers above will take our Tears  
For such a fault, Love is so like themselves.  [Exeunt.  

Scene 2. The Lovure.  Enter Guise attended with his Family, Marmoutire meeting him New Dressed, attended, etc. Guise. 
Furies, she keeps her Word, and I am lost;  
Yet let not thy Ambition show it to her,  
For after all she does it but to try me,  
And foil my vowed Design: Madam, I see  
You're come to Court; the Robes you wear become you,  
Your Air, your Mien, your Charms, your every Grace,  
Will Kill at least your thousand in a day.  Mar. 
What, a whole day, and kill but one poor thousand?  
An hour you mean, and in that hour ten thousand?  
Yes, I would make with every Glance a Murder.  
Mend me this Curl.  Guise. 
Woman!  Mar. 
You see, my Lord,  
I have my Followers, like you: I swear  
The Court's a Heavenly Place; but O my Heart,  
I know not why that sigh should come uncalled;  
Perhaps 'twas for your going, yet I swear  
I never was so moved, O Guise, as now;  
Just as you entered, when from yonder Window  
I saw the King.  Guise. 
Woman, all over Woman.  
The World confesses, Madam, Henry's Form  
Is Noble and Majestic.  Mar. 
O you grudge  
The extorted Praise, and speak him but by halfs.  Guise. 
Priest, Corso, Devils! how she carries it!  Mar. 
I see, my Lord, you are come to take your leave;  
And were it not to give the Court Suspicion,  
I would oblige you, Sir, before you go,  
To lead me to the King.  Guise. 
Death and the Devil!  Mar. 
But since that cannot be, I'll take my leave  
Of you, my Lord, Heaven grant your Journey safe.  
Farewell once more. Not stir? Does this become you?  
Does your Ambition swell into your Eyes?  
Jealousy by this Light: Nay then, proud Guise,  
I tell you, you're not worthy of the Grace,  
But I will carry't, Sir, to those that are,  
And leave you to the Curse of Bosom-War.  [Exit. May. 
Is this the Heavenly?  Guise. 
Devil, Devil, as they are all;  
'Tis true, at first she caught the Heavenly Form,  
But now Ambition sets her on her Head,  
By Hell, I see the Cloven Mark upon her:  
Ha! Grillon here! some New Court-Trick upon me.  Enter Grillon. Grill. 
Sir, I have business for your Ear.  Guise. 
Retire.  [Exeunt his Followers. Grill. 
The King, my Lord, commanded me to wait you,  
And bid you welcome to the Court.  Guise. 
The King  
Still loads me with New Honours, but none greater  
Than this, the last.  Grill. 
There is one greater yet,  
Your High Commission against the Hugonots;  
I and my Family shall shortly wait you,  
And 'twill be Glorious Work.  Guise. 
If you are there,  
There must be Action.  Girll. 
O, your Pardon, Sir,  
I'm but a Sripling in the Trade of War;  
But you, whose Life is one continued Broil.  
What will not your triumpahnt Arms accomplish!  
You, that were formed for Mastery in War,  
That, with a start, cried to your Brother Mayenne,  
To Horse, and slaughtered forty thousand Germans.  Guise. 
Let me beseech you, Colonel, no more.  Grill. 
But, Sir, since I must make at least a Figure  
In this great Business, let me understand  
What 'tis you mean, and why you force the King  
Upon so dangerous an Expedition.  Guise. 
Sir, I intent the Greatness of the King,  
The Greatness of all France, whom it imports  
To make their Arms their Business, Aim, and Glory,  
And where so proper, as upon those Rebels  
That covered all the State with Blood and Death?  Grill. 
Stored Arsenals and Armouries, Fields of Horse,  
Ordnance, Munition, and the Nerve of War,  
Sound Infantry, not Harrafsed and diseased,  
To meet the fierce Navarre, should first be thought on.  Guise. 
I find, my Lord, the Argument grows warm,  
Therefore, thus much, and I have done: I go  
To join the Holy League in this great War,  
In which no place of Office, or Command,  
Not of the Greatest, shall be bought or sold;  
Whereas too after Honours are Conferred  
On Soldiers, and no Soldiers: This Man Knighted  
Because he Charged a Troop before his Dinner,  
And feulked behind a Hedgith ' Afternoon:  
I will have strict Examination made  
Betwixt the Meritorious and the Base.  Grill. 
You have Mouthed it bravely, and there is no doubt,  
Your Deeds would answer well your haughty Words;  
Yet let me tell you, Sir, there is a Man,  
Curse on the Hearts that hate him, that would better,  
Better than you, or all your puffy Race,  
That better would become the Great Battalion;  
That when he Shines in Arms, and Suns the Field,  
Moves, Speaks, and Fights, and is himself a War.  Guise. 
Your Idol, Sir, you mean the Great Navarr;  
But yet, ╌  Grill. 
No Yet, my Lord of Guise, no Yet;  
By Arms, I bar you that; I swear, No Yet:  
For never was his like, nor shall again,  
Tho' voted from his Right by your Cursed League.  Guise. 
Judge not too rashly of the Holy League,  
But look at home.  Grill. 
Ha! darest thou justify  
Those Villains?  Guise. 
I'll not justify a Villain  
More than yourself; but if you thus proceed,  
If every heated Breath can puff away,  
On each furmife, the Lives of Freeborn People.  
What need that Awful General Convocation,  
The Assembly of the States? Nay let me urge,  
If thus they vilify the Holy League,  
What may their Heads expect?  Grill. 
What, if I could,  
They should be certain of, whole Piles of Fire.  Guise. 
Colonel, 'tis very well I know your Mind,  
Which, without fear, or flattery to your Person,  
I'll tell the King, and then, with his permission,  
Proclaim it for a warning to our People.  Grill. 
Come, you're a Murderer yourself within,  
A Traitor.  Guise. 
Thou a╌hot old Hare-brained Fool.  Grill. 
You were Complotter with the Cursed League,  
The black Abettor of our Harry's Death.  Guise. 
'Tis false.  Grill. 
'Tis true, as thou art double-hearted:  
Thou double Traitor, to Conspire so basely,  
And when found out, more basely to deny't.  Guise. 
O Gracious Harry, let me found thy Name,  
Lest this old rust of War, this knotty Trifler,  
Should raise me to extremes.  Grill. 
If thou'rt a Man,  
That didst refuse the Challenge of Navarre,  
Come forth.  Guise. 
Go on, since thou'rt resolved on Death,  
I'll follow thee, and rid thy shaking Soul.  Enter King, Queen Mother, Alphonso, Abbot, etc. 
But see, the King: I scorn to ruin thee,  
Therefore go tell him, tell him thy own Story.  King. 
Ha', Colonel, is this your Friendly visit?  
Tell me the truth, how happened this disorder?  
Those ruffled Hands, red Looks, and port of Fury?  Grill. 
I told him, Sir, since you will have it so,  
He was the Author of the Rebel League,  
Therefore a Traitor, and a Murderer.  King. 
Is't possible?  Guise. 
No matter, Sir, no matter;  
A few hot words, no more upon my Life;  
The old Man roused, and shook himself a little:  
So if your Majesty will do me Honour,  
I do beseech you let the business die.  King. 
Grillon, submit yourself, and ask his pardon.  Grill. 
Pardon me, I cannot do't.  King. 
Where are the Guards?  Guise. 
Hold, Sir; come Colonel, I'll ask Pardon for you:  
This Soldierly Embrace makes up the breach;  
We will be sorry, Sir, for one another.  Grill. 
My Lord, I know not what to answer you,  
I'm friends, and I am not, and so farewell.  [Exit. King. 
You have your Orders; yet before you go,  
Take this Embrace: I court you for my Friend,  
Tho' Grillon would not.  Guise. 
I thank you on my Knees.  
And still while Life shall last, will take strict care  
To justify my Loyalty to your Person.  [Exit. Q. M. 
Excellent Loyalty, to lock you up!  King. 
I see even to the bottom of his Soul:  
And, Madam, I must say the Guise has Beauties,  
But they are set in Night, and foul Design:  
He was my Friend when young, and might be still.  Abbot. 
Marked you his hollow accents at the parting?  Q. M. 
Graves in his Smiles.  King. 
Death in his bloodless Hands.  
O Marmoutiere! now I will haste to meet thee;  
The Face of Beauty, on this rising Horror,  
Looks like the midnight-Moon upon a Murder;  
It gilds the dark design that stays for Fate,  
And drives the Shades that thicken from the State.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I.  Enter Grillon and Polin. Grill. 
HAve then this Pious Council of Sixteen  
Scented your late Discovery of the Plot?  Pol. 
Not as from me, for still I kennel with them,  
And bark as loud as the most deepmouthed Traitor,  
Against the King, his Government and Laws;  
Whereon immediately there runs a Cry  
Of, Seize him on the next Procession, seize him,  
And clap the Chilperick in a Monastery;  
Thus it was fixed, as I before discovered:  
But when, against his Custom, they perceived  
The King absented, straight the Rebels met,  
And roared, they were undone.  Grill. 
O, 'tis like 'em,  
'Tis like their Mongrel Souls; flesh 'em with Fortune,  
And they will worry Royalty to Death:  
But if some crabbed Virtue turn and pinch 'em,  
Mark me, they'll run, and yelp, and clap their Tails,  
Like Curs, betwixt their Legs, and howl for Mercy.  Pol. 
But Malicorn, sagacious on the point,  
Cried, Call the Sheriffs, and bid 'em arm their Bands;  
Add yet to this, to raise you above hope,  
The Guise my Master will be here to day,  
For, on bare guess of what has been revealed,  
He winged a Messenger to give him notice;  
Yet spite of all this Factor of the Fiends  
Could urge, they slunk their Heads like Hinds in Storms:  
But see, they come.  Enter Sheriffs with the Populace. Grill. 
Away, I'll have amongst 'em;  
Fly to the King, warn him of Guise's coming,  
That he may strait dispatch his strict Commands  
To stop him.  1. Sher. 
Nay, this is Colonel Grillon,  
The Blunderbuss o'th' Court, away, away,  
He carries Ammunition in his Face.  Grill. 
Hark you my Friends, if you are not in haste,  
Because you are the Pillars of the City,  
I would inform you of a General Ruin.  2. Sher. 
Ruin to the City! marry, Heaven forbidden!  Grill. 
Amen, I say; for look you, I'm your Friend:  
'Tis blown about you've plotted on the King,  
To seize him, if not kill him; for who knows,  
When once your Conscience yields, how far 'twill stretch;  
Next, quite to dash your firmest hopes in pieces,  
The Duke of Guise is dead.  1. Sher. 
Dead, Colonel!  2. Sher. 
Undone, undone!  Grill. 
The World cannot redeem you;  
For what, Sirs, if the King, provoked at last,  
Should join the Spaniard, and should fire your City,  
Paris your Head, but a most Venomous one,  
Which must be blooded?  1. Sher. 
Blooded, Colonel!  Grill. 
Ay, blooded, thou most Infamous Magistrate,  
Or you will blood the King, and burn the Lovure;  
But ere that be, fall million miscreant Souls,  
Such Earthborn minds as yours; for, mark me, Slaves,  
Did you not Ages past consign your Lives,  
Liberties, Fortunes, to Imperial hands,  
Made 'em the Guardians of your sickly Years,  
And now your grown up to a Boobies Greatness,  
What, would you wrest the Sceptre from his Hand?  
Now, by the Majesty of Kings I swear,  
You shall as soon be saved for packing Juries.  1. Sher. 
Why, Sir, mayn't Citizens be saved?  Grill. 
Yes, Sir,  
From drowning, to be hanged, burnt, broke o'th' Wheel.  1. Sher. 
Colonel, you speak us plain.  Grill. 
A Plague confound you,  
Why should I not? what is there in such Rascals  
Should make me hid my Thought, or hold my tongue?  
Now, in the Devil's name, what make you here,  
Daubing the inside of the Court like Snails,  
Sliming our Walls, and pricking out your Horns?  
To hear, I warrant, what the King's a doing,  
And what the Cabinet-Council, then to th' City  
To spread your monstrous Lies, and sow Sedition?  
Wildfire choke you.  1. Sher. 
Well, we'll think of this,  
And so we take our leaves?  Grill. 
Nay, stay, my Masters;  
For I'm a thinking now just whereabouts  
Grow the two tallest Trees in Arden Forest.  1. Sher. 
For what, pray Colonel, if we may be so bold?  Grill. 
Why to hang you upon the highest Branches;  
Fore-God it will be so; and I shall laugh  
To see you dangling to and fro i'th' Air,  
With the honest Crows pecking your Traitor's Limbs.  All. 
Good Colonel!  Grill. 
Good Rats, my precious Vermin,  
You moving Dirt, you rank stark Muck o'th' World,  
You Oven-Bats, you things so far from Souls,  
Like Dogs, you're out of Providence's reach,  
And only fit for hanging; but be gone,  
And think of Plunder╌You right Elder Sheriff,  
Who Carved our Henry's Image on a Table,  
At your Club-Feast, and after stabbed it through?  1. Sher. 
Mercy, good Colonel.  Grill. 
Run with your Nose to Earth,  
Run Bloodhound, run, and scent out Royal Murder.  
You second Rogue, but equal to the first,  
Plunder, Go hang, nay take your tackling with you,  
For these shall hold you fast, your Slaves shall hang you  
To the mid Region in the Sun:  
Plunder, be gone Vipers, Asps, and Adders.  Exeunt Sheriffs and People. Enter Malicorn. 
Ha', but here comes a Fiend that soars above,  
A Prince o'th' Air, that sets the Mud a moving.  Mal. 
Colonel, a word.  Grill. 
I hold no speech with Villains.  Mal. 
But, Sir, it may concern your Fame and Safety.  Gril. 
No matter, I had rather die traduced,  
Than live by such a Villains help as thine.  Mal. 
Hate then the Traitor, but yet love the Treason.  Gril. 
Why, are not you a Villain?  Mal. 
'Tis confessed.  Grill. 
Then in the Name of all thy Brother Devils,  
What wouldst thou have with me?  Mal. 
I know you're honest,  
Therefore it is my business to disturb you.  Grill. 
Fore God I'll beat thee, if thou urge me farther.  Mal. 
Why tho' you should, yet if you hear me after,  
The pleasure I shall take in your vexation,  
Will heal my Bruises.  Grill. 
Wert thou definite Rogue,  
I'faith, I think that I should give thee hearing;  
But such a boundless Villainy as thine,  
Admits no Patience.  Mal. 
Your Niece is come to Court,  
And yields her Honour to our Henry's Bed.  Grill. 
Thou liest, damned Villain.  [Strikes him. Mal. 
So, why this I looked for:  
But yet I swear by Hell, and my Revenge,  
'Tis true as you have wronged me.  Grill. 
Wronged thee, Villain!  
And name Revenge! O were't thou Grillon's Match,  
And worthy of my Sword, I swear by this  
One had been past an Oath; but thou'rt a Worm,  
And if I tread thee darest not turn again.  Mal. 
'Tis false, I dare like you, but cannot act;  
There is no force in this Enervate Arm.  
Blasted I was e'er born, Curse on my Stars,  
Got by some dotard in his pithless Years,  
And sent a withered Saplin to the world.  
Yet I've Brain, and there is my Revenge;  
Therefore I say again these Eyes have seen  
Thy Blood at Court bright as a Summer's Morn,  
When all the Heaven is streaked with dappled Fires,  
And flecked with Blushes like a rifled Maid;  
Nay, by the Gleamy Fires that melted from her  
Fast Sighs and Smiles, swollen Lips and heaving Breasts,  
My Soul presages Henry has enjoyed her.  Grill. 
Again thou liest; and I will crumble thee,  
Thou bottled Spider, into thy Primitive Earth,  
Unless thou swear thy very Thought's a Lye.  Mal. 
I stand in Adamant, and thus defy thee;  
Nay draw, and with the edge betwixt my Lips,  
Even while thou rak'st it through my Teeth, I'll swear  
All I have said is true, as thou art honest,  
Or I a Villain.  Grill. 
Damned infamous Wretch,  
So much below my scorn, I dare not kill thee:  
And yet so much my hate, that I must fear thee.  
For should it be as thou hast said, ' not all  
The Trophies of my Lawrelled Honesty  
Should bar me from forsaking this bad World,  
And never draw my Sword for Henry more.  Mal. 
Ha', 'tis well, and now I am Revenged.  
I was in hopes thou wouldst have utter' Treason,  
And forfeited thy Head to pay me fully.  Grill. 
Hast thou Compacted for a Lease of Years  
With Hell, that thus thou ventur'st to provoke me?  Mal. 
Perhaps I have: (How right the Blockhead hits.)  
Yet more to rack thy Heart, and break thy Brain,  
Thy Niece has been before the Guise's Mistress.  Grill. 
Hellhound, avaunt.  Mal. 
Forgive my honest meaning.  [Exit. Grill. 
'Tis hatched beneath, a Plot upon mine honour,  
And thus he lays his Baits to Catch my Soul:  
Ha! but the Presence Opens, who comes here!  
By Heaven my Niece, led by Alphonso Corso!  
Ha', Malicorn is't possible, Truth from thee!  
'tis plain, and I in Justifying Woman  
Have done the Devil wrong.  Alph. 
Madam, the King,  
Please you to sit, will instantly attend you.  Grill. 
Death, Hell, and Furies! ha', she comes to seek him,  
O Prostitute, and on her prodigal Flesh  
She has lavished all the Diamonds of the Guise  
To set her off, and sell her to the King.  Mar. 
O Heavens! did ever Virgin yet attempt  
An Enterprise like mine? I that resolved  
Never to leave those dear delightful Shades,  
But act the little part that Nature gave me,  
On the Green Carpets of some guiltless Grove,  
And having finished it forsake the World,  
Unless sometimes my Heart might entertain  
Some small remembrance of the taking Guise:  
But that far, far from any darkening Thought,  
To Cloud my Honour, or Eclipse my Virtue.  Grill. 
Thou liest, and if thou hadst not glaneed aside,  
And spied me coming, I had had it all.  Mar. 
By Heaven, by all that's good╌  Grill. 
Thou hast lost thy Honour,  
Give me thy Hand, this Hand by which I caught thee  
From the bold Ruffian in the Massacre,  
That would have stained thy almost Insant Honour,  
With Lust, and Blood, dost thou remember it?  Mar. 
I do, and bless the Godlike Arm that saved me.  Grill. 
'Tis false, thou hast forgot my generous Action;  
And now thou laughest to think how thou hast cheated,  
For all his kindness, this old grisled Fool.  Mar. 
Forbidden it Heaven!  Grill. 
But oh that thou hadst died  
Ten thousand Deaths, e'er blasted Grillon's Glory,  
Grillon that saved thee from a barbarous World,  
Where thou hadst starved, or sold thyself for Bread,  
Took thee into his Bosom, fostered thee  
As his own Soul, and lapped thee in his Heartstrings;  
And now, for all my Cares, to serve me thus!  
O 'tis too much ye Powers! double Confusion  
On all my Wars; and oh, out, shame upon thee,  
It wrings the Tears from Grillon's Iron Heart,  
And melts me to a Babe.  Mar. 
Sir, Father, hear me;  
I come to Court, to save the Life of Guise.  Grill. 
And prostitute thy Honour to the King.  Mar. 
I have looked, perhaps, too nicely for my Sex,  
Into the dark Affairs of fatal State;  
And to advance this dangerous Inquisition,  
I listened to the Love of daring Guise.  Grill. 
By Arms, by Honesty, I swear thou lov'st him.  Mar. 
By Heaven, that gave those Arms success, I swear  
I do not, as you think, but take it all.  
I've heard the Guise, not with an Angel's temper,  
Something beyond the tenderness of pity,  
And yet, not Love.  
Now, by the Powers that framed me, this is all;  
Nor should the World have wrought this close Confession,  
But to rebate your jealousy of Honour.  Grill. 
I know not what to say, nor what to think;  
There's Heaven still in thy Voice, but that's a Sign  
Virtue's departing, for thy better Angel  
Still makes the Woman's Tongue his rising Ground,  
Wags there a while, and takes his slight for ever.  Mar. 
You must not go.  Grill. 
Tho' I have Reason plain  
As day, to judge thee false, I think thee true:  
By Heaven, methinks I see a Glory round thee;  
There's something says thou wilt not lose thy Honour:  
Death, and the Devil, that's my own Honesty:  
My foolish open Nature, that would have  
All like myself; but off; I'll hence and Curse thee.  Mar. 
O stay!  Grill. 
I wo'n not.  Mar. 
Hark, the King's a coming.  
Let me conjure you, for your own Souls quiet,  
And for the everlasting rest of mine,  
Stir not till you have heard my Heart's design.  Grill. 
Angel, or Devil, I will╌nay, at this rate  
She'll make me shortly bring him to her Bed,  
Bawd for him? No, he shall make me run my Head  
Into a Cannon, when 'tis Firing, first.  
That's honourable sport, but I'll retire,  
And if she plays me false, here's that shall mend her.  [Marmoutiere Sits. Song and Dance. Enter the King. King. 
After the breathing of a Lovesick Heart,  
Upon your Hand, once more, nay twice, forgive me.  Mar. 
I discompose you, Sir.  King 
Thou dost, by Heaven;  
But with such Charming pleasure,  
I love, and tremble, as at Angels view.  Mar. 
Love me, my Lord?  King. 
Who should be loved, but you?  
So loved, that even my Crown, and self are vile,  
While you are by, try me upon despair;  
My Kingdom at the stake, Ambition starved;  
Revenge forgot, and all great Appetites  
That whet uncommon Spirits to aspire,  
So once a day I may have leave╌  
Nay, Madam, than you fear me.  Mar. 
Fear you, Sir, what is there dreadful in you?  
You've all the Graces that can Crown Mankind:  
Yet wear 'em so, as if you did not know'em:  
So stainless, fearless, free in all your actions,  
As if Heaven lent you to the World to Pattern.  King. 
Madam, I find you're no Petitioner;  
My People would not treat me in this sort;  
Tho' 'twere to gain a part of their Design:  
But to the Guise they deal their faithless Praise  
As fast, as you your flattery to me;  
Tho' for what end I cannot guests, except  
You come, like them, to mock at my Misfortunes.  Mar. 
Forgive you, Heaven! that thought: no, mighty Monarch,  
The Love of all the Good, and wonder of the Great;  
I swear, by Heaven, my Heart adores, and loves you.  King. 
O, Madam, rise.  Mar. 
Nay, were you, Sir, unthroned  
By this Seditious Rout that dare despise you;  
Blast all my days, ye Powers, torment my Nights;  
Nay, let the Misery invade my Sex,  
That could not for the Royal Cause like me,  
Throw all their Luxury before your Feet,  
And follow you like Pilgrims through the World.  Grill. 
Sound Wind, and Limb, fore God a gallant Girl.  [Aside. King. 
What shall I answer to thee, O thou Balm  
To heal a broken, yet a Kingly Heart;  
For, so I swear I will be to my Last:  
Come to my Arms, and be thy Harry's Angel,  
Shine through my Cares, and make my Crown sit easy.  Mar. 
O never, Sir.  King. 
What said you, Marmoutiere?  
Why dost thou turn thy Beauties into Frowns?  Mar. 
You know, Sir, 'tis impossible, no more.  King. 
No more╌and with that stern resolved behaviour:  
By Heaven, were I a dying, and the Priest  
Should urge my last Confession, I'd cry out,  
Oh Marmoutiere, and yet thou sayest, no more.  Mar. 
'Tis well, Sir, I have lost my aim, farewell.  King. 
Come back, O stay, my Life flows after you.  Mar. 
No, Sir, I find I am a trouble to you,  
You will not hear my Suit.  King. 
You Cannot go,  
You shannot╌O your suit, I kneel to grant it,  
I beg you take whatever you demand.  Mar. 
Then, Sir, thus low, or prostrate, if you please,  
Let me entreat for Guise.  King. 
Ha', Madam, what!  
For Guise; for Guise! that stubborn arrogant Rebel,  
That laughs at proffered Mercy, slights his Pardon,  
Mocks Royal Grace, and plots upon my Life  
Ha! and do you protect him? then the World  
Is sworn to Henry's Death: does Beauty too,  
And Innocence itself, conspire against me;  
Then let me tamely yield my Glories up,  
Which once I vowed with my drawn Sword to wear  
To my last drop of Blood? Come, Guise, come Cardinal,  
All you loved Traitors, come╌I strip to meet you;  
Sheath all your Daggers in Cursed Henry's Heart.  Mar. 
This I expected, but when you have heard  
How far I would entreat your Majesty,  
Perhaps you'll be more Calm.  King. 
See, I'm hushed;  
Speak then, how far, Madam, would you Command?  Mar. 
Not to proceed to last Extremities,  
Before the Wound is desperate, think alone,  
For no Man Judges like your Majesty;  
Take your own Methods, all the heads of France  
Cannot so well advise you, as yourself:  
Therefore resume, my Lord, your Godlike temper,  
Yet do not bear more than a Monarch should:  
Believe it, Sir, the more your Majesty  
Draws back your Arm, the more of Fate it Carries.  King. 
Thou Genius of my State, thou perfect Model  
Of Heaven itself, and abstract of the Angels,  
Forgive the late disturbance of my Soul,  
I'm clear by Nature, as a Rockless Stream,  
But they dig through the Gravel of my Heart;  
Therefore let me conjure you do not go;  
'Tis said the Guise will come in fpight of me;  
Suppose it possible, and stay to advise me.  Mar. 
I will, but on your Royal word, no more.  King. 
I will be easy  
To my last gasp, as your own Virgin Thoughts,  
And never dare to breathe my Passion more;  
Yet you'll allow me now and then to Sigh  
As we discourse, and Court you with my Eyes.  Enter Alphonso. 
Why do you wave your Hand,  
And warn me hence?  
So looks the poor Condemned,  
When Justice beck'ns, there's no hope of Pardon.  
Sternly, like you, the Judge his Victim eyes,  
And thus, like me, the Wretch despairing dies.  [Exit with Alph. Enter Grillon. Grill. 
O Rare, rare Creature, by the Power that made me:  
Were't possible we could be damned again:  
By some new Eve, such Virtue might relieve us;  
O I could clasp thee, but that my Arms are rough,  
Till all thy Sweets were broke with my Embraces,  
And kiss thy Beauties to a dissolution.  Mar. 
Ah Father, Uncle, Brother, all the Kin,  
The precious Blood that's left me in the World,  
Believe, dear Sir, whatever my actions seem,  
I will not lose my Virtue for a Throne.  Grill. 
Why, I will Carve thee out a Throne myself;  
I'll hue down all the Commonwealths in Christendom,  
And seat thee on their Necks, as high as Heaven.  Enter Abbot Delbene. Abb. 
Colonel, your Ear.  Mar. 
By these whispering Councils,  
My Soul presages that the Guise is coming:  
If he dares come, were I a Man, a King,  
I'd sacrifice him in the City's sight.  
O Heavens! what was't I said? Were I a Man,  
I know not that, but, as I am a Virgin,  
If I would offer thee, too lovely Guise,  
It should be kneeling to the Throne for Mercy.  
Ha! than thou lov'st, that thou art thus concerned,  
Down, rising mischief, down, or I will kill thee,  
Even in thy Cause, and strangle new born pity:  
Yet, if he were not married! ha', what then?  
His Charms prevail, no, let the Rebel die.  
I faint beneath this strong oppression here,  
Reason and Love rend my divided Soul,  
Heaven be the Judge, and still let Virtue Conquer;  
Love to his Tune my jarring Heart would bring,  
But Reason over-winds and Cracks the String.  [Exit. Abb. 
The King dispatches Order upon Order,  
With positive Command to stop his coming.  
Yet there is notice given to the City;  
Besides Belleure brought but a half account,  
How that the Guise replied he would obey  
His Majesty in all, yet if he might  
Have leave to justify himself before him,  
He doubted not his Cause.  Grill. 
The Axe, the Axe,  
Rebellion's pampered to a Pleurisy,  
And it must bleed.  [Shout within. Abbot. 
Hark, what a shout was there!  
I'll to the King, it may be 'tis reported  
On purpose thus.  
Let there be Truth or Lies  
In this mad Fame, I'll bring you instant word.  [Exit Abbot. Manet Grillon: Enter Guise, Cardinal, Mayen, Malicorn, Attendants, etc. Shouts again. Grill. 
Death, and thou Devil, Malicorn, is that  
Thy Master?  Guise. 
Yes, Grillon, 'tis the Guise,  
One that would Court you for a Friend.  Grill. 
A Friend,  
Traitor, thou meanest, and so I bid thee welcome;  
But since thou art so insolent thy blood  
Be on thy Head, and fall by me unpitied.  Guise. 
The bruises of his Loyalty have crazed him.  [Exit. [Shouts louder. 

Spirit within Sings.  
Malicorn, Malicorn, Malicorn, ho!  
If the Guise resolves to go,  
I charge, I warn thee let him know,  
Perhaps his head may lie too low.   Guise. 
Why, Malicorn?  Mal. [starting.] 
Sir, do not see the King.  Guise. 
I will.  Mal. 
'Tis dangerous.  Guise. 
Therefore I will see him,  
And so report my danger to the People.  
Halt to your Judgement, let him, if he dare;  
But more, more, more, why, Malicorn, again?  
I thought a look with us had been a Language;  
I'll talk my mind on any point but this  
By Glances; ha', not yet, thou makest me blush  
At thy delay; why, Man, 'tis more than Life,  
Ambition, or a Crown.  Mal. 
What, Marmoutiere!  Guise. 
Ay, there a General's Heart beat like a Drum,  
Quick, quick, my Reins, my Back, and Head, and Breast,  
Ake, as I'd been a Horseback forty hours.  Mal. 
She has seen the King.  Guise. 
I thought she might. A trick upon me, well.  Mal. 
Passion o'both sides.  Guise. 
His thou meanest.  Mal. 
On hers.  
Down on her Knees.  Guise. 
And up again, no matter.  Mal. 
Now all in Tears, now smiling, sad at parting.  Guise. 
Dissembled, for she told me this before,  
'Twas all put on that I might hear and rave.  Mal. 
And so, to make sure work on't, by Consent  
Of Grillon, who is made their Bawd.  Guise. 
Away.  Mal. 
She's lodged at Court.  Guise. 
'Tis false, they do belie her.  Mal. 
But, Sir, I saw the Apartment.  Guise. 
What, at Court?  Mal. 
At Court, and near the King, 'tis true by Heaven,  
I never played you foul, why should you doubt me?  Guise. 
I would thou hadst, ere thus unmanned me, Heart,  
Blood, Battles, Fire, and Death, I run, I run.  
With this last blow, he drives me like a Coward;  
Nay, let me never win a Field again,  
If with the thought of these irregular Vapours,  
The blood han't burst my Lips.  Card. 
Peace, Brother.  Guise. 
By Heaven, I took thee for my Soul's Physician,  
And dost thou vomit me with this loathed peace?  
'Tis contradiction; no, my peaceful Brother,  
I'll meet him now, tho' Fire, armed Cherubins  
Should cross my way. O Jealousy of Love!  
Greater than Fame: Thou eldest of the Passions,  
Or rather, all in one, I here invoke thee,  
Where'er thou'rt Throned in Air, in Earth, or Hell,  
Wing me to my Revenge, to Blood, and Ruin  Card. 
Have you no temper?  Guise. 
Pray, Sir, give me leave,  
A moment's thought; ha', but I sweat and tremble,  
My Brain runs this and that way, 'twill not fix  
On aught but vengeance, Malicorn; call the People,  [Shouts within. 
But hark, they shout again, I'll on and meet'em,  
Nay, head'em to his Palace as my Guards;  
Yet more, on such exalted Causes born,  
I'll wait him in his Cabinet alone,  
And look him pale, while in his Courts without,  
The People shout him dead with their alarms,  
And make his Mistress tremble in his Arms.  [Exeunt.  

Scene the Third.  Enter King and Council. [Shouts without. King. 
What mean these Shouts?  Abb. 
I told your Majesty,  
The Sheriffs have pussed the Populace with hopes  
Of their Deliverer.  [Shouts again. King. 
Hark, there rung a Peal  
Like Thunder; see, Alphonso, what's the Cause.  Enter Grillon. Grill. 
My Lord, the Guise is come.  King. 
Is't possible! ha', Grillon, saidst thou, come?  Grill. 
Why droops the Royal Majesty? O Sir╌  King. 
O Villain, Slave, wert thou my late born Heir,  
Given me by Heaven, even when I lay a dying;  
But peace, thou festering thought, and hid thy Wound;  
Where is he?  Grill. 
With her Majesty, your Mother;  
She has taken Chair, and he walks bowing by her,  
With thirty thousand Rebels at his heels.  King. 
What's to be done? No pall upon my Spirit;  
But he that loves me best, and dares the most  
On this nice point of Empire, let him speak.  Alph. 
I would advise you, Sir, to call him in,  
And kill him instantly upon the Spot.  Abb. 
I like Alphonso's Counsel, short, sure Work,  
Cut off the Head, and let the Body walk.  Enter Queen-Mother. Q. M. 
Sir, the Guise waits.  King. 
He enters on his Fate.  Q. M. 
Not so, forbear, the City's up in Arms;  
Nor doubt, if in their heat you cut him off,  
That they will spare the Royal Majesty.  
Once, Sir, let me advise, and rule your Fury.  King. 
You shall, I'll see him, and I'll spare him now.  Q. M. 
What will you say?  King. 
I know not;  
Colonel Grillon, call the Archers in,  
Double your Guard, and strictly charge the Swits  
Stand to their Arms, receive him as a Traitor.  [Exit Grill. 
My Heart has set thee down, O Guise, in Blood,  
Blood, Mother, Blood, ne'er to be blotted out.  Q. M. 
Yet you'll relent when this hot fit is over.  King. 
If I forgive him, may I ne'er be forgiven;  
No, if I tamely bear such Insolence,  
What act of Treason will the Villains stop at?  
Seize me, they've sworn, Imprison me's the next,  
Perhaps Arraign me, and then doom me dead;  
But e'er I suffer that, fall all together,  
Or rather, on their slaughtered Heaps erect  
Thy Throne, and then proclaim it for Example,  
I'm born a Monarch; which implies, alone  
To wield the Sceptre, and depend on none.  [Exeunt.  
The End of the Third ACT.   

ACT IU.  

SCENE the Lovure.  A Chair of State placed; the King appears sitting in it; a Table by him, on which he leans; Attendants on each side of them: amongst the rest, Abbot, Grillon, and Bellieure. The Queen-Mother enters led by the Duke of Guise, who makes his approach with three Reverences to the King's Chair; after the third, the King riseth, and coming forward, speaks. King. 
I sent you word you should not come.  Guise. 
Sir, that I came╌  King. 
Why, that you came, I see.  
Once more, I sent you word, you should not come.  Guise. 
Not come to throw myself, with all submission,  
Beneath your Royal Feet: to put my Cause  
And Person in the Hands of Sovereign Justice!  King. 
Now 'tis with all submission, that's the Preface,  
Yet still you came against my strict Command,  
You disobeyed me, Duke, with all submission.  Guise. 
Sir, it was the last necessity that drove me  
To clear myself of Calumnies, and Slanders,  
Much urged, but never proved, against my Innocence;  
Yet had I known it was your express Command,  
I should not have approached.  King. 
'Twas as express, as words could signify;  
Stand forth Bellieure, it shall be proved you knew it,  
Stand forth, and to this false Man's Face declare  
Your Message, word for Word.  Bell. 
Sir, thus it was, I met him on the way,  
And plain as I could speak, I gave your Orders,  
Just in these following Words╌  King. 
Enough, I know you told him;  
But he has used me long to be contemned,  
And I can still be patiented, and forgive.  Guise. 
And I can ask forgiveness, when I err;  
But let my Gracious Master, please to know  
The true intent of my misconstrued Faith.  
Should I not come to vindicate my Fame,  
From wrong Constructions? And╌  King. 
Come, Duke, you were not wronged your Conscience knows,  
You were not wronged, were you not plainly told,  
That if you dared to set your Foot in Paris,  
You should be held the cause of all Commotions,  
That should from thence ensue, and yet you came.  Guise. 
Sir, will you please with patience but to hear me?  King. 
I will, and would be glad, my Lord of Guise,  
To clear you to myself.  Guise. 
I had been told  
There were in agitation here at Court,  
Things of the highest note against Religion,  
Against the common Properties of Subjects,  
And Lives of honest well affected men;  
I therefore judg'd╌  King. 
Then you, it seems, are Judge  
Betwixt the Prince and People, Judge for them,  
And Champion against me?  Guise. 
I feared it might be represented so,  
And came Resolv'd╌  King. 
To head the Factious Crowd.  Guise. 
To clear my Innocence.  King. 
The means for that,  
Had been your absence from this hot-brained Town╌  
Where you, not I, are King. ╌  
I feel my Blood kindling within my Veins,  
The Genius of the Throne knocks at my Heart,  
Come what may come, he dies.  Q. M. 
Stopping the King. What mean you, Sir,  
, You tremble and look pale, for Heaven's sake think,  
'tis your own Life you venture, if you kill him.  King. 
Had I ten thousand Lives, I'll venture all.  
Give me way, Madam.  Q. M. 
Not to your destruction.  
The whole Parisian Hord is at your Gates;  
A Crowd's a Name too small, they are a Nation,  
Numberless, armed, enraged, one Soul informs 'em.  King. 
And that one Soul's the Guise, I'll rend it out,  
And damn the Rabble all at once in him.  Guise. (aside.) 
My Fate is now i'th' Balance, Fool within,  
I thank thee for thy foresight.  Q. M. 
Your Guards oppose'em.  King. 
Why not? a Multitudes a Bulky Coward.  Q. M. 
By Heaven there are not Limbs in all your Guards,  
For every one a Morsel.  King. 
Caesar quelled 'em,  
But with a Look and Word.  Q. M. 
So Galba thought.  King. 
But Galba was not Caesar.  Guise. 
I must not give'em time for Resolution.  [Aside. 
My Journey, Sir, has discomposed my Health,  [To the King. 
I humbly beg your leave I may retire,  
Till your Commands recall me to your Service.  [Exit Guise. Manet King, Queen-Mother, Grillon, Abbot. King. 
So you have counselled well, the Traitors gone.  
To mock the meekness of an injured King,  [To Queen-Mother. 
Why did not you, who gave me part of Life,  
Infuse my Father stronger in my Veins?  
But when you kept me cooped within your Womb,  
You palled his generous Blood with the dull mixture  
Of your Italian Food, and milked slow Arts  
Of Womanish tameness in my Infant Mouth,  
Why stood I stupid else, and missed a blow,  
Which Heaven and daring folly made so fair.  Q. M. 
I still maintain, 'twas wisely done to spare him.  Grill. 
A pox o''is unseasonable Wisdom;  
He was a Fool to come; if so, than they  
Who let him go, were somewhat.  King. 
The event, th' event will show us what we were,  
For like a blazing Meteor hence he shot,  
And drew a sweeping Fiery Train along.  
O Paris, Paris, once my Seat of Triumph;  
But now the Scene of all thy King's misortunes,  
Ungrateful, perjured, and Disloyal Town,  
Which by my Royal Presence I have warmed  
So long, that now the Serpent hisses out,  
And shakes his forked Tongue at Majesty,  
While I╌  Q. M. 
While you lose time in idle talk.  
And use no means for safety and prevention.  King. 
What can I do! O Mother, Abbot, Grillon!  
All dumb! nay, then 'tis plain, my Cause is desperate.  
Such an o're-whelming ill makes Grief a Fool,  
As if Redress were passed.  Grill. 
I'll go to the next Sheriff.  
And beg the first Reversion of a Rope;  
Dispatch is all my business, I'll hang for you.  Abbot. 
'Tis not so bad, as vainly you surmise;  
Some space there is, some little space, some steps  
Betwixt our Fate and us; our Foes are powerful,  
But yet not Armed, nor Martialled into Order;  
Believe it, Sir, the Guise will not artempt,  
Till he have rolled his Snowball to a heap.  King. 
So, then, my Lord, we are a day off from Death,  
What shall to morrow do?  Abbot. 
To morrow, Sir.  
If hours between slide not too idle by,  
You may be Master of their Destiny,  
Who now dispose so lostily of yours.  
Not far without the Suburbs there are Quartered  
Three thousand Swiss, and two French Regiments.  King. 
Would they/ were here, and I were at their head.  Q. M. 
Send Marshal Byron to lead 'em up.  King. 
It Shall be so, by Heaven there's Life in this,  
The wrack of Clouds is driving on the Winds,  
And shows a break of Sunshine.  
Go, Grillon, give my Orders to Byron,  
And see your Soldiers well disposed within,  
For Safeguard of the Lovure.  Q. Mother. 
One thing more,  
The Guise (his business yet not fully ripe,)  
Will treat at least for show of Loyalty:  
Let him be met with the same Arts he brings.  King. 
I know, he'll make exorbitant Demands,  
But here your part of me will come in play;  
Th' Italian Soul shall teach me how to soothe:  
Even Jove must flatter with an empty hand,  
'Tis time to thunder, when he gripes the Brand.  [Ex. Omnes. Enter Malicorne solus. A Night-Scene. Mal. 
Thus far the Cause of God: but God's or Devils,  
I mean my Master's Cause, and mine succeed:  
What shall the Guise do next?  [A flash of lightning. Enter the Spirit Melanax. Mel. 
First seize the King, and after murder him.  Mal. 
Officious Fiend, thou comest uncalled to Night.  Mel. 
Always uncalled, and still at hand for mischief.  Mal. 
╌But why in this Fanatic Habit, Devil?  
Thou look'st like one that preaches to the Crowd,  
Gospel is in thy Face, and outward Garb,  
And Treason on thy Tongue.  Mel. 
Thou hast me right,  
Ten thousand Devils more are in this Habit,  
Saintship and Zeal are still our best disguise:  
We mix unknown with the hot thoughtless Crowd,  
And quoting Scriptures, which too well we know,  
With impious Glosses ban the holy Text,  
And make it speak Rebellion, Schism and Murder,  
So turn the Arms of Heaven against itself.  Mal. 
What makes the Curate of St. Eustace here?  Mel. 
Thou art mistaken Master, 'tis not he,  
But 'tis a zealous, godly, canting Devil,  
Who has assumed the Churchman's lucky shape,  
To talk the Crowd to Madness and Rebellion.  Mal. 
O true Enthusiastic Devil, true;  
For Lying is thy Nature, even to me:  
Didst thou not tell me, If my Lord the Guise  
Entered the Court, his Head should then lie low?  
That was a Lie; he went, and is returned.  Mel. 
'Tis false; I said, Perhaps it should lie low.  
And, but I chilled the blood in Henry's veins,  
And crammed a thousand ghastly, frightful Thoughts,  
Nay, thrust 'em foremost in his labouring Brain,  
Even so it would have been.  Mal. 
Thou hast deserved me,  
And I am thine, dear Devil; What do we next?  Mel. 
I said, First seize the King.  Mal. 
Suppose it done:  
He's clapped within a Covent, shorn a Saint,  
My Master mounts the Throne.  Mel. 
Not so fast, Malicorne;  
Thy Master mounts not, till the King be slain.  Mal. 
Not when deposed?  Mel. 
He cannot be deposed:  
He may be killed, a violent Fate attends him;  
But at his Birth there shone a Regal Star.  Mal. 
My Master had a stronger.  Mel. 
No, not a stronger, but more popular.  
Their Births were full opposed, the Guise now strongest;  
But if th' ill Influence pass o'er Harry's Head,  
As in a year it will, France ne'er shall boast  
A greater King than he, now cut him off  
While yet his Stars are weak.  Mal. 
Thou talk'st of Stars:  
Canst thou not see more deep into Events,  
And by a surer way?  Mel. 
No, Malicorne,  
The ways of Heaven are broken since our Fall,  
Gulf, beyond Gulf, and never to be shot:  
Once we could read our mighty Maker's mind,  
As in a Crystal Mirror, see th' Ideas  
Of things that always are, as He is always.  
Now shut below in this dark Sphere,  
By Second causes dimly we may guests,  
And peep far off on Heavens revolving Orbs,  
Which cast obscure Reflections from the Throne.  Mal. 
Then tell me thy Surmises of the future.  Mel. 
I took the Revolution of the Year,  
Just when the Sun was entering in the Ram:  
Th' ascending Scorpion poisoned all the Sky,  
A sign of deep deceit and treachery.  
Full on his Cusp his angry Master sat,  
Conjoined with Saturn, baleful both to Man:  
Of secret Slaughters, Empires overturned,  
Strife, Blood, and Massacres expect to hear,  
And all th' Events of an ill omened Year.  Mal. 
Then flourish Hell, and mighty Mischief reign,  
Mischief to some, to others must be good;  
But hark, for now, tho' 'tis the dead of Night,  
When silence brood's upon our darkened world,  
Methinks I hear a murmuring hollow sound,  
Like the deaf Chimes of Bells in Steeples touched.  Mel. 
'Tis truly guessed:  
But know, 'tis from no nightly Sexton's hand,  
There's not a damned Ghost, nor hellborn Fiend,  
That can from Limbo scape, but hither flies,  
With leathern wings they beat the dusky Skies.  
To sacred Churches all in Swarms repair,  
Some crowd the Spires, but most the hallowed Bells,  
And softly Toll for Souls departing Knells,  
Each Chime thou hearest, a future death foretells.  
Now there they perch to have 'em in their Eyes,  
Till all go loaded to the Nether Skies.  Mal. 
To morrow then.  Mel. 
To morrow let it be:  
Or thou deceiv'st those hungry, gaping Fiends,  
And Beelzebub will rage's.  Mal. 
Why Beelzebub? Hast thou not often said,  
That Lucifer's your King?  Mel. 
I told thee true:  
But Lucifer, as he who foremost fell,  
So now lies lowest in th' Abyss of Hell.  
Chained till the dreadful Doom, in place of whom  
Sits Beelzebub, Vicegerent of the damned,  
Who listening downward hears his roaring Lord,  
And executes his purpose, but no more  
The morning creeps behind you Eastern hill,  
And now the Guard is mine, to drive the Elves  
And foolish Fairies from their Moonlight Play,  
And lash the Laggers from the sight of day.  [Descends. Enter Guise, Mayenne, Cardinal, and Archbishop. May. 
Sullen, methinks, and slow the Morning breaks,  
As if the Sun were listless to appear,  
And dark designs hung heavy on the day.  Guise. 
You're an old Man too soon, you're superstitious,  
I'll trust my Stars, I know'em now by proof,  
The Genius of the King bends under mine,  
Environed with his Guards he durst not touch me;  
But awed and cravened as he had been spelled,  
Would have pronounced, Go kill the Guise, and durst not.  Card. 
We have him in our power, cooped in his Court,  
Who leads the first Attack? Now by yond Heaven╌  
That blushes at my Scarlet Robes, I'll d'off  
This womanish Attire of godly peace,  
And cry, Lie there Lord Cardinal of Guise.  Guise. 
As much too hot, as Mayenne too cool,  
But 'tis the manlier fault o'th' two.  Bishop. 
Have you not heard the King, preventing day,  
Received the Guards into the City Gates,  
The jolly Sivisses marching to their Fifes.  
The Crowd stood gaping heartless, and amazed,  
Shrunk to their shops, and left the passage free.  Guise. 
I would it should be so, 'twas a good horror,  
First let 'em fear for Rapes, and ransacked Houses;  
That very fright when I appear to head'em,  
Will harden their soft City Courages:  
Cold Burghers must be struck, and struck like Flints,  
Ere their hid Fire will sparkle.  Bishop. 
I am glad the King has introduced these Guards.  Card. 
Your Reason.  Bishop. 
They are too few for us to fear,  
Our numbers in old martial Men are more,  
The City not cast in, but the pretence  
That hither they are brought to bridle Paris,  
Will make this Rising pass for just defence.  May. 
Suppose the City should not rise.  Guise. 
Suppose as well the Sun should never rise:  
He may not rise, for Heaven may play a trick;  
But he has risen from Adam's time to ours.  
Is nothing to be left to Noble Hazard?  
No Venture made, but all dull Certainty;  
By Heaven I'll tug with Harry for a Crown,  
Rather than have it on tame terms of yielding,  
I scorn to poach for Power.  Enter a Servant, who whispers Guise. 
A Lady, sayest thou, Young, and Beautiful,  
Brought in a Chair?  
Conduct her in╌  [Exit Seru. Card. 
You would be left alone╌  Guise. 
I would, Retire.  Re-enter Servant with Marmoutier, and Exit. Starting back. 
Is't possible I dare not trust my Eyes, You are not Marmoutier.  Mar. 
What am I then?  Guise. 
Why any thing but she:  
What should the Mistress of a King do here?  Mar. 
Find him, who would be Master of a King.  Guise. 
I sent not for you, Madam.  Mar. 
I think my Lord the King sent not for you.  Guise. 
Do you not fear your Visit will be known?  Mar. 
Fear is for guilty Men, Rebels, and Traitors;  
Where e'er I go, my Virtue is my Guard.  Guise. 
What Devil has sent thee here to plague my Soul?  
O that I could detest thee now as much  
As ever I have loved, nay even as much  
As yet in spite of all thy Crimes I love:  
But 'tis a Love so mixed with dark Despair,  
The Smoke and Soot smother the rising flame,  
And make my Soul a Furnace: Woman, Woman,  
What can I call thee more, if Devil 'twere less,  
Sure thine's a Race was never got by Adam,  
But Eve played false engendering with the Serpent,  
Her own part worse than his.  Mar. 
Then they got Traitors.  Guise. 
Yes, Angel Traitors fit to shine in Palaces,  
Forked into Ills, and split into Deceits;  
Two in their very frame: 'twas well, 'twas well,  
I saw not thee at Court, thou Basilisk;  
For if I had ' those Eyes, without his Guards,  
Had done the Tyrant's work.  Mar. 
Why then, it seems,  
I was not false in all; I told you, Guise,  
If you left Paris, I would go to Court:  
You see I kept my Promise.  Guise. 
Still thy Sex:  
Once true in all thy Life, and that for Mischief.  Mar. 
Have I said I loved you?  Guise. 
Stab on, Stab,  
'Tis plain you love the King.  Mar. 
Nor him, nor you,  
In that unlawful way you seem to mean.  
My Eyes had once so far betrayed my Heart,  
As to distinguish you from Common Men,  
What e'er you said, or did, was Charming all.  Guise. 
But yet, it seems, you found a King more Charming.  Mar. 
I do not say more Charming, but more Noble,  
More truly Royal, more a King in Soul,  
Than you are now in wishes.  Guise. 
May be fo:  
But Love has oiled your tongue to run so glib,  
Curse on your Eloquence.  Mar. 
Curse not that Eloquence, that saved your Life:  
For when your wild Ambition, which defied  
A Royal Mandate, hurried you to Town;  
When overweening pride of Popular Power,  
Had thrust you headlong in the Lovure Toils,  
Then had you died: For know, my haughty Lord,  
Had I not been, offended Majesty  
Had doomed you to the death you well deserved.  Guise. 
Then was't not Henry's fear preserved my Life?  Mar. 
You know him better, or you ought to know him;  
He's born to give you fear, not to receive it.  Guise. 
Say this again, but add you gave not up  
Your Honour as the Ransom of my Life;  
For if you did, 'twere better I had died.  Mar. 
And so it were.  Guise. 
Why said you, So it were?  
For though 'tis true, methinks 'tis much unkind.  Mar. 
My Lord, we are not now to talk of kindness,  
If you acknowledge I have saved your Life.  
Be grateful in return, and do an Act  
Your Honour, though unasked by me, requires.  Guise. 
By Heaven and you, whom next to Heaven I love,  
(if I said more, I fear I should not lie,)  
I'll do what e'er my Honour will permit.  Mar. 
Go throw yourself at Henry's Royal Feet,  
And rise not, till approved a Loyal Subject.  Guise. 
A Duteous Loyal Subject I was ever.  Mar. 
I'll put it short, my Lord, depart from Paris.  Guise. 
I cannot leave  
My Country, Friends, Religion, all at stake;  
Be wise, and be beforehand with your Fortune;  
Prevent the turn, forsake the ruined Court;  
Stay here, and make a merit of your Love.  Mar. 
No, I'll return, and perish in those Ruins;  
I find thee now ambitious, faithless Guise,  
Farewell the bafest, and the last of Men.  Guise. 
Stay, or╌O Heaven! I'll force you: Stay╌  Mar. 
I do believe  
So ill of you, so villainously ill,  
That if you durst, you would:  
Honour you've little, Honesty you've less;  
But Conscience you have none.  
Yet there's a thing called Fame, and men's Esteem,  
Preserves me from your force, once more farewell:  
Look on me Guise, thou seest me now the last;  
Tho' Treason urge not Thunder on thy head,  
This one departing Glance shall flash thee dead.  [Exit. Guise. 
Ha' said she true? Have I so little Honour.  
Why then a Prize so easy, and so fair,  
Had never scaped my Gripe; but mine she is,  
For that's set down as sure as Harry's Fall:  
But my Ambition, that she calls my Crime:  
also, false by Fate, my Right was born with me,  
And Heaven confessed it in my very frame;  
The Fires that would have formed ten thousand Angels,  
Were crammed together for my single Soul.  Enter Malicorne. Mal. 
My Lord, you trifle precious hours away,  
The Heavens look gaudily upon your greatness,  
And the crowned moments court you as they fly;  
Brisac and fierce Aumale have penned the Swiss,  
And folded 'em like sheep in holy ground,  
Where now with ordered Pikes, and Colours furled,  
They wait the word that dooms 'em all to die:  
Come forth and bless the Triumph of the day.  Guise. 
So slight a Victory required not me:  
I but sat still, and Nodded like a God  
My World into Creation, now 'tis time  
To walk abroad, and carelessly survey  
How the dull Matter does the Form obey.  [Exit with Malicorne. Enter Citizens', and Melanax in his Fanatic Habit, at the head of 'em. Mel. 
Hold, hold a little, Fellow Citizens, and you Gentlemen of the Rabble, a word of Godly Exhortation to strengthen your hands, ere you give the Onset.  I Cit 
Is this a time to make Sermons? I would not hear the Devil now, though he should come in God's Name, to preach Peace to us.  2 Cit 
Look you, gentlemans, Sermons are not to be despised, We have all profited by godly Sermons that promote Sedition, Let the precious man Hold-forth.  Omnes. 
Let him Hold-forth, let him Hold-forth.  Mel. 
To promote Sedition is my business: It has been so before any of you were born, and will be so when you are all dead and damned; I have led on the Rabble in all Ages.  I Cit 
That's a Lie, and a loud one. He has led the Rabble both Old and Young, that's all Ages: A heavenly sweet Man, I warrant him, I have seen him somewhere in a Pulpit.  Mel. 
I sown Rebellion every where.  I Cit 
How every where That's ano her Lie: How far have you Travelled Friend?  Mel. 
Over all the World.  I Cit 
Now that's a Rapper.  2 Cit 
I say, No: For, look you Gentlemen, if he has been a Traveller, he certainly says true, for he may lie by Authority.  Mel. 
That the Rabble may depose their Prince,  
Has in all Times, and in all Countries, been accounted lawful.  I Cit 
That's the first true Syllable he has uttered: But as how, and whereby, and when may they depose him?  Mel. 
When ever they have more power to Depose, than he has to Oppose, and this they may do upon the least Occasion.  I Cit 
Sirrah, you mince the Matter; you should say, we may do it upon no Occasion, for the less the better.  Mel. aside. 
Here's a Rogue now will out-shoot the Devil in his own Bow.  2 Cit 
Some Occasion, in my mind, were not amiss; For, look you Gentlemen, if we have no Occasion, then whereby we have no Occasion to depose him; and therefore either Religion or Liberty, I stick to those Occasions: for when they are gone, Good-night to Godliness and Freedom.  Mel. 
When the most are of one side, as that's our case, we are always in the right; for they that are in power, will ever be the Judges: So that if we say White is Black, poor White must lose the Cause, and put on Mourning, for White is but a single Syllable, and we are a whole Sentence: Therefore go on boldly, and lay on resolutely for your Solemn League and Covenant, and if here be any squeamish Conscience who fears to fight against the King, though I that have known you Citizens these thousand years, suspect not any, let such understand, That his Majesty's Politic Capacity is to be distinguished from his Natural; and though you murder him in one, you may preserve him in the other, and so much for this time, because the Enemy is at hand.  2 Cit 
looking out.  
Look you, gentlemans, 'tis Grillon the fierce Colonel,  
He that devours our Wives, and ravishes our Children.  I Cit 
He looks so Grum, I don't care to have to do with him,  
Would I were safe in my Shop behind the Counter.  2 Cit 
And would I were under my Wife's Petticoats,  
Look you, gentlemans.  Mel. 
You, Neighbour, behind your Compter yesterday, paid a  
Bill of Exchange in Glass, Lovisdors, and you Friend, that cry,  
Look you Gentlemen, this very morning was under another  
Woman's Petticoats, and not your Wives.  2. Cit 
How the Devil does he know this?  Mel. 
Therefore fight lustily for the Cause of Heaven, and to make even Tallies for your Sins, which that you may do with a better Conscience, I absolve you both, and all the rest of you: Now go on merrily, for those that escape shall avoid killing; and those who do not escape, I will provide for in another world.  [Cry within on the other side of the Stage, Vive le Roy, Vive le Roy. Enter Grillon, and his Party. Grill. 
Come on, Fellow-Soldiers, Commilitones, that's my word, as 'twas Julius Caesar's of Pagan memory; 'fore God I am no Speech-maker, but there are the Rogues, and here's Bilbo, that's a word and a blow; we must either cut their Throats, or they cut ours, that's pure necessity for your comfort. Now if any man can be so unkind to his own Body, for I meddle not with your Souls, as to stand still like a good Christian, and offer his Weeson to a Butcher's Whittle, I say no more but that he may be saved, and that's the best can come on him.  [Cry on both sides, Vive le Roy, Vive Guise. The Fight. Mel. 
hay for the Duke of Guise and Property, Up with Religion and the Cause, and down with those Arbitrary Rogues there: Stand to't you Associated Cuckolds.  [Citizens go back. 
O Rogues, O Cowards, Damn these Half-strained Shopkeepers, Got between Gentlemen and City-Wives, how Naturally they quake, and run away from their own Fathers, Twenty Souls a Penny were a dear Bargain of'em.  [They all run off, Melanax with them, the 1 and 2 Cit taken. Grill. 
Possess yourselves of the place Maubert,  
And hang me up those two Rogues for an example.  1 Cit 
O spare me sweet Colonel, I am but a young Beginner, and new set up  Grill. 
I'll be your Customer, and set you up a little better, Sirrah,  
Go hang him at the next Signpost:  
What have you to say for yourself, Scoundrel?  
Why were you a Rebel?  2 Cit 
Look you, Colonel, 'twas out of no ill meaning to the Government, all that I did, was pure Obedience to my Wife.  Grill. 
Nay, if thou hast a Wife that wears the Breeches,  
Thou shalt be condemned to live:  
Get thee home for a Hen-peckt Traytor╌  
What, Are we encompassed? Nay then, Faces this way;  
we'll sell our Skins to the fairest Chapmen.  Enter Aumale and Soldiers on the one side, Citizens' on the other, Grillon and his Party are disarmed. 1 Cit 
Bear away that bloody-minded Colonel,  
And hang him up at the next Signpost:  
Nay, when I am in power, I can make examples too.  Omnes. 
Tear him piecemeal, tear him piecemeal.  [Pull and hale him. Grill. 
Rogues, Villains, Rebels, Traitors, Cuckolds,  
'Swounds, What do you make of a Man? Do you think my  
Legs and Arms are strung upon a Wire, like a Jointed Baby?  
Carry me off quickly, you were best, and hang me decently, according to my first Sentence.  2 Cit 
Look, you, Colonel, you are too bulky to be carried off all at once, a Leg or an Arm is one Man's Burden:  
Give me a little Finger for a Sample of him, whereby  
I'll carry it for a Token to my Sovereign Lady.  Grill. 
'Tis too little, in all Conscience, for her,  
Take a bigger Token, Cuckold. Et tu Brute whom I saved,  
O the Conscience of a Shopkeeper!  2 Cit 
Look you, Colonel, for your saving me, I thank you hearty, whereby that Debts paid; but for speaking Treason against my anointed Wife, that's a new Reckoning between us.  Enter Guise with a General's Staff in his hand, Mayenne, Cardinal, Archbishop, Malicorn, and Attendants. Omnes. 
Vive Guise.  Guise bowing, and Bareheaded. 
I thank you Countrymen, the hand of Heaven  
In all our Safeties has appeared this day,  
Stand on your Guard, and double every Watch,  
But slain your Triumph with no Christian blood,  
French we are all, and Brothers of a Land.  Card. 
What mean you, Brother, by this Godly talk?  
Of sparing Christian Blood, why these are Dogs;  
Now by the Sword that cut off Malchus Ear,  
Mere Dogs that neither can be saved nor damned.  Archbishop. 
Where have you learned to spare inveterate Foes?  Guise. 
You know the Book,  Archbishop. 
And can expound it too:  
But Christian Faith was in the Nonage then,  
And Roman Heathens lorded o'er the World,  
What madness were it for the weak and few,  
To fight against the many and the strong;  
Grillon must die, so must the Tyrant's Guards,  
Lest gathering head again, they make more work.  Mal. 
My Lord, the People must be fleshed in Blood,  
To teach'em the true Relish, dip'em with you╌  
Or they'll perhaps repent.  Guise. 
You are Fools to kill'em were to show I fear'd'em;  
The Court disarmed, disheartened, and besieged,  
Are all as much within my power, as if  
I grip'd'em in my Fist.  May. 
'Tis rightly judged:  
And let me add, who heads a Popular Cause,  
Must prosecute that Cause by Popular Ways:  
So whether you are merciful or no,  
You must affect to be.  Guise. 
Dismiss those Prisoners, Grillon, you are free,  
I do not ask your Love, be still my Foe.  Grill. 
I will be so: But let me tell you, Guise,  
As this was greatly done, 'twas proudly too;  
I'll give you back your life when next we meet,  
Till than I am your Debtor.  Guise. 
That's till Doomsday.  [Grillon and his Exennt one way, Rabble the other. 
Haste Brother, draw out Fifteen thousand Men,  
Surround the Lovure, lest the Prey should scape,  
I know the King will send to treat,  
We'll set the Dice on him in high demands,  
No less than all his Offices of Trust,  
He shall be pared, and cantoned out, and clipped,  
So long he shall not pass.  Card. 
What do we talk  
Of paring, clipping, and such tedious work,  
Like those that hang their Noses o'er a Potion and Qualm, and keck, and take it down by Sips.  Archbishop. 
Best make advantage of this Popular Rage,  
Let in th'o'erwhelming Tide on Harry's head,  
In that promiscuous Fury who shall know  
Among a thousand Swords who killed the King.  Mal. 
O my dear Lord, upon this only day  
Depends the series of your following Fate:  
Think your good Genius has assumed my shape  
In this Prophetic doom.  Guise. 
Peace croaking Raven,  
I'll seize him first, then make him a led Monarch;  
I'll be declared Lieutenant General  
Amidst the Three Estates that represent  
The glorious, full, majestic Face of France,  
Which in his own despite the King shall call:  
So let him reign my Tenant during life,  
His Brother of Navarre shut out for ever,  
Branded with Heresy, and barred from Sway,  
That when Valois consumed in Ashes lies,  
The Phoenix Race of Charlemagne may rise.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE, The LOVURE.  Enter King, Queen-Mother, Abbot, Grillon. King. 
Dismissed with such Contempt?  Grill. 
Yes, Faith, we past like beaten Romans underneath the Fork.  King. 
Give me my Arms.  Grill. 
For what?  King. 
I'll lead you on.  Grill. 
You are a true Lion, but my Men are Sheep;  
If you run first, I'll swear they'll follow you.  King. 
What, all turned Cowards? Not a Man in France  
Dares set his Foot by mine, and perish by me.  Grill. 
Troth I can't find'em much inclined to perishing.  King. 
What can be left in danger, but to dare?  
No matter for my Arms, I'll go Barefaced,  
And seize the first bold Rebel that I meet.  Abbot. 
There's something of Divinity in Kings  
That sits between their Eyes, and guards their Life.  Grill. 
True, Abbot, but the mischief is, you Churchmen  
Can see that something further than the Crowd;  
These Musket Bullets have not read much Logic,  
Nor are they given to make your nice distinctions:  [One enters, and gives the Queen a Note, she reads╌ 
One of 'em possibly may hit the King  
In some one part of him that's not Divine,  
And so the mortal part of his Majesty would draw  
The Divinity of it into another world, sweet Abbot.  Q. Mother. 
'Tis equal madness to go out or stay,  
The Reverence due to Kings is all transferred  
To haughty Guise, and when new Gods are made,  
The old must quit the Temple, you must fly.  King. 
Death, Had I wings, yet I would scorn to fly.  Grill. 
Wings, or no wings, is not the Question:  
If you won't fly for't, you must ride for't,  
And that comes much to one.  King. 
Forsake my Regal Town.  Q. Mother. 
Forsake a Bedlam:  
This Note informs me, Fifteen thousand Men  
Are marching to enclose the Lovure round.  Abbot. 
The business than admits no more dispute,  
You, Madam, must be pleased to find the Guise,  
Seem easy, fearful, yielding, what you will,  
But still prolong the Treaty all you can,  
Togain the King more time for his Escape.  Q. Mother. 
I'll undertake it╌Nay, no thanks my Son,  
My blessing shall be given in your deliverance;  
That once performed, their Web is all unravelled,  
And Guise is to begin his work again.  [Exit Q. Mother. King. 
I go this minute.  Enter Marmoutier. 
Nay then, another minute must be given.  
O how I blush, that thou shouldst fee thy King  
Do this low Act that lessens all his Fame:  
Death must a Rebel force me from my Love!  
If it must be╌  Mar. 
It must not, cannot be.  Grill. 
No, nor shall not Wench, as long as my Soul wears a Body.  King. 
Secure in that, I'll trust thee; Shall I trust thee?  
For Conquerors have Charms, and Women Frailty:  
Farewell, Thou may'st behold me King again,  
My Soul's not yet deposed, why then farewel,  
I'll say't as comfortably as I can:  
But O cursed Guise, for pressing on my time,  
And cutting off Ten thousand more Adieus.  Mar. 
The moments that retard your Flight are Traitors,  
Make haste my Royal Master to be safe,  
And save me with you, for I'll share your Fate.  King. 
Wilt thou go too?  
Then I am reconciled to Heaven again:  
O welcome thou good Angel of my way,  
Thou Pledge and Omen of my safe Return;  
Not Greece, nor hostile Juno could destroy  
The Hero that abandoned burning Troy,  
He scaped the dangers of the dreadful Night,  
When loaded with his Gods he took his Flight.  [Exeunt King, leading her.   

ACT. V.  

SCENE, The Castle of Bloise.  Enter Grillon, Alphonso Corso. Grill. 
WElcome Colonel, welcome to Bloise.  Alph. 
Since last we parted at the Barricadoes,  
The World's turned upside down.  Grill. 
No, Faith, 'tis better, now 'tis downside up,  
Our part o'th' wheel is rising, though but slowly.  Alph. 
Who looked for an Assembly of the States?  Grill. 
When the King was escaped from Paris, and got out of the Toils, 'twas time for the Guise to take 'em down, and pitch others: That is, to treat for the Calling of a Parliament, where being sure of the major part, he might get by Law, what he had missed by Force.  Alph. 
But why should the King assemble the States, to satisfy the Guise after so many Affronts?  Grill. 
For the same reason that a Man in a Duel says, he has received satisfaction when he is first wounded, and afterwards difarmed.  Alph. 
But why this Parliament at Blois, and not at Paris?  Grill. 
Because no Barricado's have been made at Blois: This Blois is a very little Town, and the King can draw it after him. But Paris is a damned, unwieldy Bulk, and when the Preachers draw against the King, a Parson in a Pulpit is a devilish Fore-horse. Besides, I found in that Insurrection, what dangerous Beasts these Townsmen are; I tell you, Colonel, a Man had better deal with ten of their Wives, than with one zealous Citizen:  
O your inspired Cuckold is most implacable.  Alph. 
Is there any seeming kindness between the King, and the Duke of Guise?  Grill. 
Yes, most wonderful: They are as dear to one another, as an old Usurer, and a rich young Heir upon a Mortgage. The King is very Loyal to the Guise, and the Guise is very gracious to the King: Then the Cardinal of Guise, and the Archbishop of Lions, are the two Pendants, that are always hanging at the Royal Ear; They ease His Majesty of all the Spiritual business, and the Guise of all the Temporal, so that the King is certainly the happiest Prince in Christenaom, without any care upon him: so yielding up every thing to his Loyal Subjects that he's infallibly in the way of being the greatest, and most glorious King in all the world.  Alph. 
Yet I have heard, he made a sharp reflecting Speech upon their Party at the opening of the Parliament, admonished Men of their Duties, pardoned what was past, but seemed to threaten Vengeance, if they persisted for the future.  Grill. 
Yes, and then they all took the Sacrament together: He promising to unite himself to them, and they to obey him according to the Laws; yet the very next morning they went oh, in pursuance of their old Commonwealth designs, as violently as ever.  Alph. 
Now am I dull enough to think they have broken their Oath.  Grill. 
I but you are but one private Man, and they are the three States; And if they Vote that they have not broken their Oaths, Who is to be Judge?  Alph. 
There's One above.  Grill. 
I hope you mean in Heaven, or else you are a bolder Man than I am in Parliament-time; but here comes the Master and my Niece.  Alph. 
Heaven preserve him, if a Man may pray for him without Treason.  Grill. 
O Yes, You may pray for him, the Preachers of the Guise's side, do that most formally: Nay, You may be suffered Civilly to drink his Health, be of the Court, and keep a place of Profit under him: For, in short, 'tis a judged Case of Conscience, to make your best of the King, and to side against him.  Enter King and Marmoutier. King. 
Grillon, Be near me,  
There's something for my service to be done,  
Your Orders will be sudden, now withdraw.  Grill. 
Well, I dare trust my Niece, even tho'she comes of my own Family; but if she Cuckolds my good Opinion of her Honesty, there's a whole Sex fallen under a General Rule without one Exception.  aside.] [Exeunt Grill. and Alph. Mar. 
You bid my Uncle wait you.  King. 
Yes.  Mar. 
This hour.  King. 
I think it was.  Mar. 
Something of moment hangs upon this hour.  King. 
Not more on this, than on the next and next,  
My time is all ta'en up on Usury;  
I never am before hand with my hours,  
But every one has work before it comes.  Mar. 
There's something for my service to be done,  
Those were your words.  King. 
And you desire their meaning.  Mar. 
I dare not ask, and yet perhaps may guess.  King. 
'Tis searching there where Heaven can only pry,  
Not Man, who knows not Man but by surmise;  
Nor Devils, nor Angels of a purer Mould,  
Can trace the winding Labyrinths of Thought,  
I tell thee, Marmoutier, I never speak  
Not when alone, for fear some Fiend should hear,  
And blab my Secrets out.  Mar. 
You hate the Guise.  King. 
True, I did hate him.  Mar. 
And you hate him still.  King. 
I am reconciled.  Mar. 
Your Spirit is too high,  
Great Souls forgive not injuries, till time  
Has put their Enemies into their power,  
That they may show Forgiveness is their own;  
For else 'tis fear to punish that forgives:  
The Coward, not the King.  King. 
He has submitted.  Mar. 
In show, for in effect he still insults.  King. 
Well, Kings must bear sometimes.  Mar. 
They must, till they can shake their burden off,  
And that's, I think, your aim.  King. 
Mistaken still:  
All Favours, all Preferments, pass through them,  
I'm pliant, and they mould me as they please.  Mar. 
These are your Arts to make 'em more secure,  
Just so your Brother used the Admiral,  
Brothers may think, and act like Brothers too.  King. 
What said you, ha'! what mean you Marmoutier?  Mar. 
Nay, what mean you? That Start betrayed you, Sir.  King. 
This is no Vigil of St. Bartholomew,  
Nor is Blois Paris.  Mar. 
'Tis an open Town.  King. 
What then!  Mar. 
Where you are strongest.  King. 
Well, what then?  Mar. 
No more, but you have Power, and are provoked.  King. 
O! Thou hast set thy Foot upon a Snake,  
Get quickly off, or it will sting thee dead.  Mar. 
Can I unknown it?  King. 
No, but keep it secret.  Mar. 
Think, Sir, your Thoughts are still as much your own,  
As when you kept the Key of your own Breast:  
But since you let me in, I find it filled  
With Death and Horror; you would murder Guise.  King. 
Murder! what Murder! use a softer word,  
And call it Sovereign Justice.  Mar. 
Would I could:  
But Justice bears the Godlike shape of Law,  
And Law requires Defence, and equal Plea  
Betwixt th' Offender, and the righteous Judge.  King. 
Yes, when th' Offender can be judged by Laws,  
But when his Greatness overturns the Scales,  
Then Kings are Justice in the last Appeal:  
And forced by strong Necessity may strike,  
In which indeed th'y assert the Public Good,  
And, like sworn Surgeons, lop the gangrened Limb:  
Unpleasant wholesome work.  Mar. 
If this be needful.  King. 
Ha', didst not thou thyself in fathoming  
The depth of my designs, drop there the Plummet?  
Didst thou not say Affronts, so Great, so Public,  
I never could forgive?  Mar. 
I did but yet╌  King. 
What means, But yet? 'Tis Evidence so full,  
If the last Trumpet sounded in my Ears,  
Undaunted I should meet the Saints half way:  
And in the Face of Heaven maintain the Fact.  Mar. 
Maintain it then to Heaven, but not to me:  
Do you love me?  King. 
Can you doubt it?  Mar. 
Yes, I can doubt it, if you can deny:  
Love begs once more this great Offender's life,  
Can you forgive the man you justly hate,  
That hazards both your Life and Crown to spare him?  
One whom you may suspect I more than pity,  
(For I would have you see that what I ask,  
I know is wondrous difficult to grant)  
Can you be thus extravagantly Good?  King. 
What then? For I begin to fear my firmness:  
And doubt the soft destruction of your tongue.  Mar. 
Then in Return, I swear to Heaven, and you,  
To give you all the Preference of my Soul:  
No Rebel Rival to disturb you there,  
Let him but live, that he may be my Convert.  [King walks awhile, then wipes his eyes, and speaks. King. 
You've Conquered, all that's past shall be forgiven,  
My lavish Love has made a lavish Grant:  
But know this Act of Grace shall be my last.  
Let him repent, yes, let him well repent,  
Let him desist, and tempt Revenge no further:  
For by yond Heaven that's Conscious of his Crimes,  
I will no more by Mercy be betrayed.  Deputies appearing at the Door. 
The Deputies are entering, You must leave me:  
Thus Tyrant Business all my hours usurps,  
And makes me live for others.  Mar. 
Now Heaven reward you with a prosperous Reign,  
And grant you never may be good in vain.  [Exit. Enter Deputies of the Three States, Cardinal of Guise, and Archbishop of Lions, at the Head of 'em. King. 
Well, my good Lords, what matters of importance  
Employed the States this Morning?  Archb. 
One high Point  
Was warmly canvased in the Commons House,  
And will be soon Resolved.  King. 
What was't?  Card. 
Succession.  King. 
That's one high Point indeed, but not to be  
So warmly canvased, or so soon Resolved.  Card. 
Things necessary must sometimes be sudden.  King. 
No sudden danger threatens you, my Lord.  Archb. 
What may be sudden, must be counted so;  
We hope, and wish Your Life: But Yours, and Ours,  
Are in the hand of Heaven.  King. 
My Lord, They are:  
Yet in a Natural way I may live long,  
If Heaven and You my Loyal Subjects please.  Archb. 
But since good Princes, like Your Majesty,  
Take care of dangers merely possible,  
Which may concern their Subjects whose they are,  
And for whom Kings are made.  King. 
Yes, we for them,  
And they for us, the Benefits are mutual,  
And so the Ties are too.  Card. 
To cut things short,  
The Commons will decree to exclude Navarre  
From the Succession of the Realm of France.  King. 
Decree, my Lord! What one Estate decree,  
Where then are the other two, and what am I?  
The Government is cast up somewhat short,  
The Clergy and Nobility cashiered,  
Five hundred popular Figures on a Row,  
And I myself that am, or should be King,  
An overgrown cipher set before the Sum:  
What Reasons urge our Sovereigns for th'exclusion?  Archb. 
He stands suspected, Sir, of Heresy.  King. 
Has he been called to make his just defence?  Card. 
That needs not, for 'tis known.  King. 
To whom?  Card. 
The Commons.  King. 
What is't those God's the Commons do not know?  
But Heresy you Churchmen teach us Vulgar,  
Supposes obstinate and stiff persisting  
In Errors proved, long Admonitions made,  
And all rejected, has this Course been used?  Archb. 
We grant it has not, but╌  King. 
Nay, give me leave,  
jurge from your own Grant, it has not been:  
If then in process of a petty Sum,  
Both Parties having not been fully heard,  
No Sentence can be given:  
Much less in the Succession of a Crown,  
Which after my decease, by Right Inherent,  
Devolves upon my Brother of Navar.  Card. 
The Right of Souls is still to be preferred,  
Religion must not suffer for a Claim.  King. 
If Kings may be excluded, or deposed,  
When e'er you cry Religion to the Crowd,  
That Doctrine makes Rebellion Orthodox,  
And Subjects must be Traitors to be saved.  Archb. 
Then Heresy's entailed upon the Throne.  King. 
You would entail Confusion, Wars and Slaughters:  
Those ills are Certain, what you name Contingent.  
I know my Brother's nature, 'tis sincere,  
Above deceit, no crookedness of thought,  
Says, what he means, and what he says, performs:  
Brave, but not rash; successful, but not proud.  
So much acknowledging that he's uneasy,  
Till every petty service be o'er paid.  Archb. 
Some say revengeful.  King. 
Some than libel him:  
But that's what both of us have learned to bear.  
He can forgive, but you disdain Forgiveness:  
Your Chiefs are they no Libel must profane:  
Honour's a Sacred Thing in all but Kings;  
But when your Rhimes assassinate our Fame,  
You hug your nauseous, blundering Ballad-wits,  
And pay 'em as if Nonsense were a merit,  
If it can mean but Treason.  Archb. 
Sir, we have many Arguments to urge╌  King. 
And I have more to answer, let 'em know  
My Royal Brother of Navarre shall stand  
Secure by Right, by Merit, and my Love.  
God, and good men will never fail his Cause,  
And all the bad shall be constrained by Laws.  Archb. 
Since gentle means t' exclude Navarre are vain,  
To morrow in the States 'twill be proposed,  
To make the Duke of Guise Lieutenant General,  
Which Power most graciously confirmed by you,  
Will stop this headlong Torrent of Succession,  
That bears Religion, Laws, and all before it,  
In hope you'll not oppose what must be done,  
We wish you, Sir, a long and prosperous Reign.  [Exeunt Omnes, but the King. King. 
To morrow Guise is made Lieutenant-General,  
Why then to morrow I no more am King;  
'Tis time to push my slack'nd vengeance home,  
To be a King, or not to be at all;  
The Vow that manacled my Rage is loosed,  
Even Heaven is wearied with repeated Crimes,  
Till lightning flashes round to guard the Throne,  
And the curbed Thunder grumbles to be gone.  Enter Grillon to him. Grill. 
'Tis just the pointed hour you bid me wait.  King. 
So just, as if thou wert inspired to come;  
As if the Guardian Angel of my Throne,  
Who had o'reslept himself so many Years,  
Just now was roused, and brought thee to my rescue.  Grill. 
I hear the Guise will be Lieutenant-General.  King. 
And canst thou suffer it?  Grill. 
Nay, if you will suffer it, than well may 1  
If Kings will be so civil to their Subjects, to give up all things tamely, they first turn Rebels to themselves, and that's a fair example for their Friends; 'Slife, Sir, 'tis a dangerous matter to be Loyal on the wrong side, to serve my Prince in spite of him; if you'll be a Royalist yourself, there are Millions of honest Men will fight for you; but if you wo'n not, there are few will hang for you.  King. 
No more: I am resolved,  
The course of things can be withheld no longer  
From breaking forth to their appointed end:  
My vengeance, ripened in the womb of time,  
Presses for birth, and longs to be disclosed.  
Grillon, the Guise is doom'd╌to sudden death:  
The Sword must end him; Has not thine an Edge?  Grill. 
Yes, and a Point too; I'll challenge him:  King. 
╌I bid thee kill him.  [Walping. Grill. 
╌So I mean to do.  King. 
╌Without thy hazard.  Grill. 
Now I understand you, I should murder him:  
I am your Soldier, Sir, but not your Hangman.  King. 
╌Dost thou not hate him?  Grill. 
╌yess.  King. 
Hast thou not said,  
That he deserves it?  Grill. 
Yes, but how have I  
Deserved to do a Murder?  King. 
'Tis no Murder:  
'Tis Sovereign Justice urged from Self Defence.  Grill. 
'Tis all confessed, and yet I dare not do't.  King. 
Go, Thou art a Coward.  Grill. 
You are my King.  King. 
Thou sayest thou darest not kill him.  Grill. 
Were I a Coward, I had been a Villain,  
And then I durst ha' done't.  King. 
Thou hast done worse in thy long course of Arms,  
Hast thou ne'er killed a Man?  Grill. 
Yes, when a Man would have killed me.  King. 
Hast thou not plundered from the helpless Poor?  
Snatched from the sweeting Labourer his Food?  Grill. 
Sir, I have eaten and drunk in my own defence,  
When I was hungry and thirsty.  
I have plundered,  
When you have not paid me╌  
I have been content with a Farmer's Daughter,  
When a better Where was not to be had.  
As for Cutting off a Traitor, I'll execute him lawfully  
In my own Function, when I meet him in the Field;  
But for your Chamber-practice, that's not my Talon.  King. 
Is my Revenge Unjust, or Tyrannous?  
Heaven knows, I love not Blood.  Grill. 
No, for your Mercy is your only Vice.  
You may dispatch a Rebel lawfully,  
But the mischief is, that Rebel  
Has given me my Life at the Barricadoes,  
And till I have returned his Bribe,  
I am not upon even terms with him.  King. 
Give me thy hand, I love thee not the worse;  
Make much of Honour, 'tis a Soldier's Conscience,  
Thou shalt not do this Act, thou'rt e'en too good;  
But keep my Secret, for that's Conscience too.  Grill. 
When I disclose it, think I am a Coward.  King. 
No more of that, I know thou art not one:  
Call Lognac hither strait, and St. Malin;  
Bid Larchant find some unsuspected means  
To keep Guards doubled at the Council-door,  
That none pass in or out, but those I call:  
The rest I'll think on further, so farewell.  Grill. 
Heaven bless your Majesty!  
Tho I'll not kill him for you I'd defend you when he's killed,  
For the honest part of the Jobb let me alone.  [Exeunt severally. The Scene opens, and discovers Men and Women at a Banquet, Malicorne standing by. Mal. 
This is the Solemn Annual Feast I keep,  
As this day Twelve Year on this very hour  
I signed the Contract for my Soul with Hell;  
I bartered it for Honours, Wealth, and Pleasure,  
Three things which mortal Men do covet most.  
And, Faith, I over sold it to the Fiend:  
What, One and twenty Years, Nine yet to come,  
How can a Soul be worth so much to Devils?  
O how I hug myself, to out wit these Fools of Hell!  
And yet a sudden damp, I know not why,  
Has seized my spirits, and like a heavy weight  
Hangs on their active springs, I want a Song  
To rouse me, my blood freezes: Music there?  After a Song and Dance, loud knocking at the door. Enter Servant. 
What Noise is that?  Seru. 
An ill-looked surly Man,  
With a hoarse voice, says he must speak with you.  Mal. 
Tell him I dedicate this day to pleasure,  
I neither have, nor will have Business with him.  [Exit Seru. 
What louder yet, what saucy Slave is this?  [Knock louder. Re-enter Servant. Seru. 
He says you have, and must have Business with him,  
Come out, or he'll come in, and spoil your Mirth.  Mal. 
I wo'n not.  Seru. 
Sir, I dare not tell him so,  [Knock again more fiercely. 
My hair stands up in bristles when I see him:  
The Dogs run into Corners; the Spade Bitch  
Bays at his back, and howls.  Mal. 
Bid him enter, and go off thyself.  [Exit Seru. Scene closes upon the Company. Enter Melanax, an Hourglass in his hand almost empty. 
How darest thou interrupt my softer hours?  
By Heaven I'll ramm thee in some knotted Oak,  
Where thou shalt sigh and groan to whistling winds,  
Upon the lonely Plain:  
Or I'll confine thee deep in the Red Sea groveling on the Sands,  
Ten thousand Billows rolling o'er thy head.  Mel. 
Hoh, hoh, hoh.  Mal. 
Laughest, thou malicious Fiend?  
I'll open my Book of bloody Characters,  
Shall rumple up thy tender airy Limbs,  
Like Parchment on a flame.  Mel. 
Thou canst not do't,  
Behold this Hourglass.  Mal. 
Well, and what of that?  Mel. 
Seest thou these ebbing Sands?  
They run for thee, and when their Race is run,  
Thy Lungs the Bellows of thy mortal breath,  
Shall sink for ever down, and heave no more.  Mal. 
What, resty Fiend?  
Nine Years thou hast to serve.  Mel. 
Not full Nine Minutes.  Mal. 
Thou liest, look on thy Bond, and view the date.  Mel. 
Then wilt thou stand to that without Appeal?  Mal. 
I will so, help me Heaven.  Mel. 
So take thee Hell.  [Gives him the Bond. 
There, Fool, behold, who lies, the Devil or thou?  Mal. 
Ha! One and twenty Years are shrunk to twelve,  
Do my Eyes dazzle?  Mel. 
No, they see too true:  
They dazzled once, I cast a Mist before 'em,  
So what was figured Twelve, to thy dull sight  
Appeared full Twenty one.  Mal. 
There's Equity in Heaven for this, a Cheat.  Mel. 
Fool, thou hast quitted thy Appeal to Heaven,  
To stand to this.  Mal. 
Then I am lost for ever.  Mel. 
Thou art.  Mal. 
O why was I not warned before?  Mel. 
Yes, to repent than thou hadst cheated me.  Mal. 
Add but a day, but half a day, an hour:  
For sixty Minutes I'll forgive nine Years.  Mel. 
No not a Moment's thought beyond my time:  
Dispatch, 'tis much below me to attend  
For one poor single Fare.  Mal. 
So pitiless?  
But yet I may command thee, and I will:  
I love the Guise even with my latest breath  
Beyond my Soul, and my lost hopes of Heaven;  
I charge thee by my short-lived power, disclose  
What Fate attends my Master.  Mel. 
If he goes  
To Council when he next is called, he dies.  Mal. 
Who waits?  Enter Servant. 
Go, give my Lord my last adieu,  
Say I shall never see his Eyes again:  
But if he goes when next he's called to Council,  
Bid him believe my latest breath, he dies.  
The Sands run yet, O do not shake the Glass:  
I shall be thine too soon, could I repent,  
Heaven's not confined to Moment's, Mercy, Mercy.  [Exit Seru. [Devil shakes the Glass. Mel. 
I see thy Prayers dispersed into the winds,  
And Heaven has pust 'em by:  
I was an Angel once of foremost Rank,  
Stood next the shining Throne, and winked but half,  
So almost gazed I glory in the Face  
That I could bear it, and stared farther in,  
'Twas but a Moment's pride, and yet I fell,  
For ever fell, but Man, base Earthborn Man,  
Sin's past a Sum, and might be pardoned more,  
And yet 'tis just; for we were perfect Light,  
And saw our Crimes, Man in his Body's mire,  
Half soul, Half clod, sinks blindfold into sin,  
Betrayed by Frauds without, and Lusts within.  Mal. 
Then I have hope.  Mel. 
Not so, I preached on purpose  
To make thee lose this Moment of thy Prayer,  
Thy Sand creeps low, Despair, Despair, Despair.  Mal. 
Where am I now? Upon the brink of Life,  
The Culph before me, Devils to push me on,  
And Heaven behind me closing all its doors.  
A thousand Years for every Hour I've passed,  
O could I scape so cheap! But Ever, Ever,  
Still to begin an endless round of Woes,  
To be renewed for Pains, and last for Hell?  
Yet can Pains last, when Bodies cannot last?  
Can earthy Substance endless Flames endure?  
Or when one Body wears, and flits away,  
Do Souls thrust forth another Crust of Clay?  
To fence and guard their tender forms from fire╌  
I feel my heartstrings rend, I'm here, I'm gone:  
Thus Men too careless of their future State,  
Dispute, know nothing, and believe too late.  [A flash of Lightning, they sink together. Duke of Guise, Cardinal, Aumale. Card. 
A dreadful Message from a dying Man,  
A Prophecy indeed!  
For Souls just quitting Earth, peep into Heaven,  
Make swift Acquaintance, with their Kindred forms,  
And Partners of Immortal Secrets grow.  Aum. 
'Tis good to lean on the securer side:  
When Life depends, the mighty Stake is such,  
Fools fear too little, and they dare too much.  Enter Archbishop. Guise. 
You have prevailed, I will not go to Council,  
I have provoked my Sovereign past a Pardon,  
It but remains to doubt if he dare kill me:  
Then if he dares but to be just, I die,  
'Tis too much odds against me, I'll departed,  
And finish Greatness at some sater time.  Archb. 
By Heaven 'tis Harry's plot to fright you hence,  
That, Cowardlike, you might for sake your Friends.  Guise. 
The Devil foretold it dying Malicorne.  Archb. 
Yes, some Court-Devil, no doubt:  
If you depart, consider, good my Lord,  
You are the Master spring that move our Fabric,  
Which once removed, our Motion is no more.  
Without your Presence, which buoys up our hearts,  
The League will sink beneath a Royal Name:  
Th' inevitable Yoke prepared for Kings,  
Will soon be shaken off; Things done, repealed;  
And Things undone, past future Means to do.  Card. 
I know not, I begin to taste his Reasons.  Archb. 
Nay, were the danger certain of your stay,  
An Act so mean would lose you all your Friends,  
And leave you single to the Tyrant's Rage:  
Then better 'tis to hazard Life alone,  
Than Life, and Friends, and Reputation too.  Guise. 
Since more I am confirmed, I'll stand the shock:  
Where e'er he dares to call, I dare to go.  
My Friends are many, faithful and united,  
He will not venture on so rash a deed:  
And now I wonder I should fear that Force,  
Which I have used to Conquer and Contemn.  Enter Marmoutier. Archb. 
Your Tempter comes, perhaps, to turn the Scale,  
And warn you not to go.  Guise. 
O fear her not,  [Exeunt Archbishop and Cardinal. 
I will be there.  
What can she mean, Repent?  
Or is it cast betwixt the King and her  
To sound me; Come what will, it warms my heart  
With secret joy, which these my ominous Statesmen  
Left dead within me, ha'! she turns away.  Mar. 
Do you not wonder at this Visit, Sir?  Guise. 
No, Madam, I at last have gained the Point  
Of mightiest Minds to wonder now at nothing.  Mar. 
╌Believe me, Guise, 'twere gallantly resolved,  
If you could carry't on the inside too,  
Why came that Sigh uncalled? For Love of me  
Partly perhaps, but more for thirst of Glory,  
Which now again dilates itself in Smiles,  
As if you scorned that I should know your purpose.  Guise. 
I change 'tis true, because I love you still,  
Love you, O Heaven, even in my own despite,  
I tell you all even at that very Moment,  
I know you strait betray me to the King.  Mar. 
O Guise, I never did, but, Sir, I come  
To tell you, I must never see you more.  Guise. 
The King's at Blois, and you have reason for't,  
Therefore what am I to expect from pity?  
From yours, I mean, when you behold me slain.  Mar. 
First answer me, and then I'll speak my heart,  
Have you, O Guise, since your last Solemn Oaths,  
Stood firm to what you swore? Be plain, my Lord,  
Or run it o'er awhile, because again  
I tell you I must never see you more.  Guise. 
Never! She's set on by the King to sift me,  
Why by that Never then, all I have sworn  
Is true, as that the King designs to end me.  Mar. 
Keep your Obedience, by the Saints you live.  Guise. 
Then mark, 'tis judged by heads grown white in Council,  
This very day he means to cut me off.  Mar. 
╌By Heaven then you're for sworn, you've broke your Vows.  Guise. 
╌By you the Justice of the Earth I have not.  Mar. 
╌By you Dissembler of the world you have, I know the King.  Guise. 
╌ I do believe you, Madam.  Mar. 
╌ I have tried you both.  Guise. 
╌Not me, the King you mean.  Mar. 
╌Do these o'reboyling Answers suit the Guise,  
But go to Council, Sir, there show your truth,  
If you are innocent you're safe, but O  
If I should chance to see you stretched along,  
Your Love, O Guise, and your Ambition gone,  
That venerable Aspect pale with death,  
I must conclude you merited your end.  Guise. 
╌You must, you will, and smile upon my Murder.  Mar. 
Therefore if you are conscious of a Breach,  
Confess it to me: Led me to the King,  
He has promised me to conquer his Revenge,  
And place you next him; therefore if you're right,  
Make me not fear it by Asseverations:  
But speak your heart, and O resolve me truly.  Guise. 
╌Madam, I ha' thought, and trust you with my Soul;  
You saw but now my parting with my Brother,  
The Prelate too of Lions, 'twas debated  
Warmly against me that I should go on.  Mar. 
╌Did I not tell you, Sir?  Guise. 
╌True, but in spite  
Of those Imperial Arguments they urged,  
I was not to be worked from second thought,  
There we broke off; And, mark me, if I live,  
You are the Saint that makes a Convert of me.  Mar. 
Go then, O Heaven! Why must I still suspect you?  
Why heaves my Heart? And why o'erflow my Eyes?  
Yet if you live, O Guise, there, there's the Cause,  
I never shall converse, nor see you more.  Guise. 
O say not so, for Once again I'll see you,  
Were you this very Night to lodge with Angels,  
Yet say not Never; for I hope by Virtue  
To merit Heaven, and wed you late in Glory.  Mar. 
This Night, my Lord, I'm a Recluse for ever.  Guise. 
Ha! Stay till Morning Tapers are too dim;  
Stay till the Sun rises to salute you;  
Stay till I lead you to that dismal Den  
Of Virgins, buried quick, and stay for Ever.  Mar. 
Alas! Your Suit is vain, for I have vowed it:  
Nor was there any other way to clear  
Th' imputed stains of my suspected Honour.  Guise. 
Hear me a word, one Sighs, one Tear, at parting,  
And one last Look; for, O my earthly Saint,  
I see your Face pale, as the Cherubins  
At Adam's Fall.  Mar. 
O Heaven I now confess,  
My heart bleeds for thee Guise.  Guise. 
Why Madam, why?  Mar. 
Because by this Disorder,  
And that sad Fate that bodes upon your Brow,  
I do believe you love me more than Glory.  Guise. 
Without an Oath I do, therefore have Mercy,  
And think not Death could make me tremble thus:  
Be pitiful to those Infirmities  
Which thus Unman me, stay till the Council's o'er;  
If you are pleased to grant an hour or two  
To my last Prayer, I'll thank you as my Saint;  
If you refuse me, Madam, I'll not murmur.  Mar. 
Alas, my Guise! O Heaven what did I say?  
But take it, take it, if it be too kind,  
Honour may pardon it, since it is my last.  Guise. 
O let me crawl, Vile as I am, and kiss  [She gives him her Hand. 
Your Sacred Robe. Is't possible, Your Hand!  
O that it were my last expiring Moment,  
For I shall never taste the like again.  Mar. 
Farewell my Proselyte, your better Genius  
Watch your Ambition.  Guise. 
I have none but you,  
Must I ne'er see you more?  Mar. 
I have sworn you must not:  
Thought thus roots me here, melts my Resolves,  [Weeps. 
And makes me loiter when the Angels call me.  Guise. 
O ye Celestial Dews! O Paradise!  
O Heaven! O Joys! ne'er to be tasted more.  Mar. 
Nay take a little more, cold Marmoutier,  
The temperate, devoted Marmoutier  
Is gone, a last Embrace I must bequeath you.  Guise. 
And O let me return it with another.  Mar. 
Farewell for ever; Ah, Guise, though now we part  
In the bright Orbs prepared us by our Fates,  
Our Souls shall meet╌Farewell╌and Io's sing above,  
Where no Ambition, nor State Crime, the happier spirits prove,  
But all are blessed, and all enjoy an everlasting Love.  [Exit Mar. Guise solus. Guise. 
Glory, where art thou? Fame, Revenge, Ambition,  
Where are you fled? there's Ice upon my Nerves:  
My Salt, my Metal, and my Spirits gone,  
palled as a Slave that's Bedrid with an Ague,  
I wish my flesh were off: What now! Thou bleedest  
Three, and no more! What then? And why what then?  
But just three drops! And why not just three drops,  
As well as four or five, or five and twenty?  Enter a Page. Page. 
My Lord, your Brother and the Archbishop wait you.  Guise. 
I come, down Devil, ha'! Must I stumble too?  
Away ye Dreams, What if it thundered Now?  
Or if a Raven crossed me in my way:  
Or now it comes, because last Night I dreamt  
The Council-Hall was hung with Crimson round,  
And all the Ceiling plastered o'er with black.  
No more, blue Fires, and ye dull rolling Lakes,  
Fathomless Caves, ye Dungeons of old Night,  
Phantoms be gone, if I must die, I'll fall  
True Politician, and defy you all.   

SCENE II.  The Court before the Council-Hall. Grillon, Larchant, Soldiers placed, People crowding. Grill. 
Are your Guards doubled, Captain?  Larch. 
Sir, They are.  Grill. 
When the Guise comes, remember your Petition,  
Make way there for his Eminence; Give back,  
Your Eminence comes late.  Enter two Cardinals, Counsellors, the Cardinal of Guise, Archbishop of Lions, last the Guise. Guise. 
Well, Colonel, Are we Friends?  Grill. 
Faith, I think not.  Guise. 
Give me your Hand.  Grill. 
No, for that gives a Heart.  Guise. 
Yet we shall clasp in Heaven.  Grill. 
By Heaven we shall not,  
Unless it be with Gripes.  Guise. 
True Grillon still.  Larch. 
My Lord.  Guise. 
Ha' Captain, you are well attended,  
If I mistake not, Sir, your Number's doubled.  Larch. 
All these have served against the Heretics,  
And therefore beg your Grace you would remember  
Their Wounds, and lost Arrears.  Guise. 
It shall be done.  
Again my heart, there is a weight upon thee,  
But I will sigh it off, Captain Farewell.  [Exeunt Cardinal, Guise, etc. Grill. 
Shut the Hall-door, and bar the Castle-Gates:  
March, March there Closer yet, Captain to the door.  [Ex.  

SCENE III.  Council Hall. Guise. 
I do not like myself to day.  Archb. 
╌A Qualm, he dares not.  Card. 
╌that'ss one Man's thought, he dares, and that's another's.  Enter Grillon. Guise. 
O Marmoutier, Ha' never see thee more,  
Peace my tumultuous heart, why jolt my spirits  
In this unequal Circling of my Blood,  
I'll stand it while I may, O Mighty Nature!  
Why this Alarm, why dost thou call me on  
To fight, yet rob my Limbs of all their use.  [Swoons. Card. 
Ha! He's fallen, chafe him: He comes again.  Guise. 
I beg your Pardons, Vapours no more.  Grill. 
Th' Effect  
Of last Night's Lechery with some working Whore.  Enter Revol. Revol. 
My Lord of Guise, the King would speak with you.  Guise. 
O Cardinal, O Lions, but no more,  
Yes, one word more, thou hast a Privilege  [To the Cardinal. 
To speak with a Recluse, Otherefore tell her,  
If never thou beholdest me breathe again,  
Tell her I sighed it last╌O Marmoutier.  [Exit bowing. Card. 
You will have all things your own way, my Lord,  
By Heaven, I have strange horror on my Soul.  Archb. 
I say again, that Henry dares not do't.  Card. 
Beware your Grace of Minds that bear like him,  
I know he scorns to stoop to mean Revenge;  
But when some mightier Mischief shocks his Tower,  
He shoots at once with thunder on his wings,  
And makes it Air, but hark, my Lord, 'tis doing.  Guise within.] 
Murderers, Villains!  Archb. 
I hear your Brother's voice, run to the door.  Card. 
Help, help, the Guise is murdered.  Archb. 
Help, help.  Grill. 
Cease your vain Cries, you are the King's Prisoners,  
Take 'em Dugast into your Custody.  Card. 
We must obey, my Lord, for Heaven calls us  [Exeunt. The Scene draws behind it a Traverse. The Guise is assaulted by Eight, They stab him in all parts, but most in the head. Guise. 
O Villains! Hell hounds! Hold:  
Murdered, O basely, and not draw my Sword,  
Dog, Logniac, but my own blood chokes me,  
Down, Villain, Down, I'm gone, O Marmoutier.  [Halfpenny draws, his Svord, is held. [Flings himself upon him╌dieses. The Traverse is drawn. The King rises from his Chair, comes forward with his Cabinet Council. King: 
Open the Closet, and let in the Council;  
Bid Dugast execute the Cardinal,  
Seize all the Factious Leaders, as I ordered,  
And every one be answered on your Lives.  Enter Queen Mother, followed by the Counsellors. 
O, Madam, you are welcome, how goes your health?  Queenm. 
A little mended, Sir, what have you done?  King. 
That which has made me King of France, for there  
The King of Paris at your Feet lies dead.  Queenm. 
You have cut out dangerous work, but make it up  
With speed and resolution.  King. 
Yes, I'll wear  
The Fox no longer, but put on the Lion;  
And since I could resolve to take the Heads  
Of this great Insurrection, you the Members  
Look to't, Beware, turn from your stubbornness,  
And learn to know me, for I will be King.  Grill. 
'Sdeath, how the Traitors lower and quake, and droop,  
And gather to the wing of his protection,  
As if they were his Friends, and fought his Cause.  King, looking upon Guise. 
Be witness, Heaven, I gave him triple warning,  
He's gone, no more disperse, and think upon't,  
Beware my Sword, which if I once unsheathe,  
By all the Reverence due to Thrones and Crowns,  
Nought shall atone the Vows of speedy Justice,  
Till Fate to Ruin every Traitor brings,  
That dares the Vengeance of indulgent Kings.     

ADVERTISEMENT.  
THere was a Preface intended to this Play, in Vindication of it, against two scurrilous Libels lately printed: But it was judged, that a Defence of this nature would require more room, than a Preface reasonably could allow: For this Cause, and for the Importunity of the Stationers, who hastened their Impression, 'tis deferred for some little time, and will be printed by itself. Most men are already of Opinion, that neither of the Pamphlets deserve an Answer, because they are stuffed with open Falsities, and sometimes contradict each other; but, for once, they shall have a day or two thrown away upon them, though I break an old Custom for their sakes, which was to scorn them.  
FINIS.   

A SONG in the Fifth ACT of the DUKE of GUISE.  Shepherdess. 
TELL me Thirsis, tell your Anguish,  
why you Sigh, and why you Languish;  
when the Nymph whom you A╌dore,  
grants the Bles╌sing of Pos╌ses╌sing,  
what can Love and I do more?  
what can Love, what can Love and I do more?  Shepherd. 
Think it's Love be╌yond all measure,  
makes me faint a╌way with Pleasure;  
strength of Cor╌dial may destroy,  
and the Blessing of Possessing  
kills me with ex╌cess of Joy.  Shepherdess. 
This╌sis, how can I believe you?  
but con╌fess, and I'll forgive you;  
Men are false, and so are you;  
ne╌ver Nature framed a Creature  
to en╌joy, and yet be true;  
ne╌ver Nature framed a Creature  
to en╌joy, and yet be true;  
to en╌joy, and yet be true,  Soft. 
and yet be true.  Shepherd. 
Mine's a Flame be╌yond ex╌pi╌ring,  
still pos╌ses╌sing, still de╌si╌ring,  
fit for Love's Im╌pe╌rial Crown;  
e╌ver shi╌ning,  
and re╌fi╌ning,  
still the more 'tis mel╌ted down.  Chorus together. 
Mine's a Flame beyond ex╌pi╌ring,  
still pos╌ses╌sing,  
still de╌siring,  
fit for Love's Im╌pe╌rial Crown;  
e╌ver shining,  
and re╌fining,  
still the more 'tis mel╌ted down.  
Mine's a Flame beyond ex╌pi╌ring,  
still pos╌ses╌sing,  
still de╌siring,  
fit for Love's Im╌pe╌rial Crown;  
e╌ver shining,  
and re╌fining,  
still the more 'tis,  
still the more 'tis melted down.  
FINIS.