HENRY THE THIRD OF FRANCE, Stabbed by a FRIAR.  
WITH THE Fall of the GUISE.  
A TRAGEDY.  
Acted at the THEATRE-ROYAL.  
By THOMAS SHIPMAN Esquire.  
Licenced, Octob. 16. 1678.  
ROGER L'ESTRANGE.  
— Rege incolumi Mens omnibus una.  
Virg. Georg.  
LONDON, Printed by B. G. for Sam. Heyrick at Grayes-Inn-Gate in Holborn, 1678.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY Lord Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston, Viscount Newark, Lord Pierrepont and Manvers, and one of the Lords of his Majesty's most Honourable Privy Counsel, etc.  
My Lord,  
Wisdom is attained by an exact disquisition after Truth: which seemed once so difficult an attempt, that in Greece (the then knowing part of the World) seven only were accounted to deserve the name of Wise. Such commendable researches gained 'em that preeminence; and this made them prescribe to the rest of Mankind. They declared Truth (like precious Oar) buried in a Pit, not to be got thence, but by a long deduction of Reason; nor this Reason perfected without Study and Learning. Now Learning is only the cultivating of Parts and Wit, till we arrive at a thorough improvement of thoughts upon things and Men.  
My Lord, all this being considered, who can lay a juster claim to this jewel, than your Lordship? Whose mind, being animated by generous spirits, always addresses itself unto noble ends? Your inward sight (sharper than that of Eagles) can gaze upon the splendeur where Truth'sits throned, and discern all the finesses of Policy and Prudence. Ablessing not to be attained without a sagacity able to pierce into the deepest resorts of Nature, and to extricate hidden forms from the Wombs of their Causes. But these Perfections (like th' Elixir of the Philosophers) are impossible, or very difficult to be obtained, without such a prosperous success as your Lordships, that has run through the round of all Sciences, with a perspicacity even to admiration. You, my Lord, (like the Eye of the World) have not only visited, but enlightened each Orb in the Heaven of Learning. And those who hence forward shall pretend to knowledge must owe it to your Influence. Wherever you passed, you left such tracks of light, as may direct the inquisitive World into the most private recesses of knowledge.  
Besides, 'tis as wonderful how your Lordship could arrive to this height, to these miraculous improvements! How could you break through those entangling blandishments of Fortune? Those cumbersome employments of Honour and State? Those tediousnesses of Address, that wait on and add to the tumults of Grandeur? For Great-men (as th' incomparable Verulam observes) have little freedom either in their times, their actions, or themselves. Insomuch, as preeminence would afford no Aitraits, nor any pretences authorise the thirstings after Greatness, unless a power to do good. By such revelations of your merits and virtue, you have added lustre to your Coronet, and ennobled even Nobility itself. Vulgar Fame applauds Majesty in such choices and that commonstream runs here into the Fountain of Honour.  
If our Age had been unfortunate in wanting you, as that of the Romans had been happy in enjoying you, Cicero might have spared his expectation (as he smartly worded it to Caesar) Quae miremur habemus, quae laudemus expectamus. In our late Deluge of Ignorance and Rebellion, you stood up like one of Seth's Pillars, and preserved Letters and Loyalty to this happy Age. You were tossed indeed, but not discomposed with the humrous successes of Fortune. You steered your Resolutions, and kept a steady soul amidst those storms that shipwrecked three Kingdoms. In that fatal 41th. when those false Representatives of our Liberties (like Robbers) pretended to direct us into the right way, and then entrapped us into straits, to cut our Purses and our Throats: when by a horrid Conspiracy (like that of Corah) they rebelled both against Moses and Aaron; when (like the ingrateful Hebrews) they wantened after impure Loves, and worshipped false Gods of their own making; Then you, my Lord, endeavoured with all your might to rescue us from inhumanity and rapine, and divert judgements from the People, like Cicero in the Conspiracy of Catiline; (and with equal Eloquence) you laboured to save both Capitol and Commonwealth from ruin. In testimony whereof, those two incomparable Speeches of your Lordships, to the House of Peers, in Defence of the Hierarchy, will be recorded in the Temple of Fame, till Time shall be no more.  
Nor is this all, for though these great Truths must eternize your Name, and advantage the next Age with glorious examples; yet to come nearer home, my Lord, the present time is as much obliged. Your Hospitality and way of living is such, as may instruct those of your Lordship's rank to restore and uphold their ancient interest and grandeur, too much and too long neglected. Here is Plenty without Luxury and Intemperance, Greatness without Noise and Disorder: Entertainments are here be stowed both upon Mind and Body, and 'tis doubtful to which our Repasts are most obliged.  
But I'm fallen upon a Panegyric, where I intended a Dedication; and in both alike presumptuous; yet it may be the more excusable in that I have sacrificed to Duty and Truth, in acknowledging your Lordship's favours and my great obligations, and in yielding a Testimony to the merits of so eminent a Person. And after my Reader is confirmed of all these great qualities, and hears how your Lordships pleased to countenance this Tragedy; I need not fear his acceptation. You, my Lord, alone are a sufficient Theatre, and your single praise more to be valued than the loudest Plaudite. I humbly beg, that your Lordship will vouchsafe to pardon all its falours, and accept of that devotion, wherewith I offer it, which will be an infinite honour to,  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most Humble and most Devoted Servant. August 30th. 1678. Tho. Shipman.   

TO ROGER L'ESTRANGE, Esq  
SIR,  
Since this Tragedy has gained your approbation; I ought to show the care I took in't. I altered not the Story, nor made the Guises speak, or act worse than really they did. I branded not that damned League with such characters as I might have done, and they deserved. I fited the Parts to the Persons, and kept'em as like themselves as the Story would let me. I made both the Kings Amorous, Generous and Valiant, and so indeed they were; and endeavoured they should not suffer upon a particular Stage, when they had triumphed upon that of the World. If Grillon seemed overbold and rough sometimes in some places, I do but keep myself to that character which Mounsieur Girard, and D'Avila (with others) have bestowed upon him. Nay his frequent Oath of Death was not my 
Espernon's Life, Book 4. p. 190.  fancy neither; For there's a Story in the Life of Espernon, enough to justify me, and fright our Gallants from that profane humour. As for the rest, it was my aim they should not speak above themselves, and I suited (as well as I could) their Parts to their Callings. Yet after all this, I am not ignorant that I lie open to the Critics in transferring the main Scene from Blois to St. Clou. But had I confined the Story to either of those Places alone, the death of the King or Guise might have been left out contrary to my original design. After all this, Sir, I crave leave to reflect a little, upon the very Rhyme itself.  
All Subjects of weight, or such as most interest the Passions, ought (as I take it) to be expressed with a gravity and in few words. Thus the Greek and Latin Tragedians, nay and Philosophers too, accustomed themselves to short Periods. But their Measures necessarily being inconstant, therefore to make 'em suitable to several occasions, AEschilus, and next after him Sophocles, when they brought the Stage to represent the Story more naturally, by introducing Actors and Scenes, they bethought themselves of a reformation, and disposed their Speeches into lines of more certain Measures to make them more grateful to the Audience. Let any man suppose a representation of some considerable length, to be performed in short sentences, and of unequal cadences, one cannot fancy any thing to be more wearisome. But when it runs in equal Measures, neither so at length to stretch the sinews of Discourse and Fancy, as upon a Rack, nor so short as to cramp 'em; but sizable both to the speaker and hearer, it must needs advance the satisfaction of both Parties, together with the reputation of the Poet. The Greek then and the Latin Tragedians (for I have nothing to say to those of France and Italy) mostly wrote in measured Verse. For Rhyme never reached them, till in a barbarous Monkish Age, which became soon weary of it, as unnatural to the Ideom, and destructive of their native Elegance. But, from the earli'st dawnings of knowledge, our Bards and Druids had their Genealogies and Songs of Victory in Rhyme, as not only natural, but quickening the spirit of their Language; and we have continued it with competent success. For I refer it to any ingenious rational person, that can write or judge, what briskness is infused into any fit Subject by a well ordered and an unforced Rhyme. It is true, that one man's Prose exceeds another man's Verse; but suppose both those Talents to be equal in one and the same person, I dare say his Verse, as to sweetness and charms, will be much more agreeable than his Prose. I speak all this as to the content of the Ear and Fancy upon the Stage. I am not to answer here for bald Rhimes, that serve only to make bad sense worse, I speak of easy smooth Rhyme in Verse, such as exalts Sense and makes it Rapture, nay I'm persuaded Oratory as well as Poetry, has a greater force upon our affections, when the periods contain a certain Measure, or at least when two or three of the closes have some affinity of sound. I never had it tried (but may be 'tis worth the while to do it) whether those Orators that most please, make it not their Care to come off with a grateful Harmony in the Close. These are the Charms like those of natural Magic, that work unknown either to the Speaker or Hearer, yet gain far more attention to one man than to another. This is only to offer at some proof that a Paper of verses in Rhyme, where the Conceit is new, the humour Surprising, and the Penning Elegant, must needs take more in the repetition than any studied Prose. And a Speech on the Stage (be its Concerns what it will) must be far more harmonious and pleasing in Rhyme, and more congenial to the Soul, Miltons' Paradise is a work noble, strong and fanciful, but had his humour of contradiction softened it into his own sweet Rhyme, what a Poem had it been! but I dare not venture further upon this Subject, since that learned and facetious Gentleman, Mr. Rymer, has promised the undertaking, 
Tragedies of this Age, pag. 143.  from whose curious and able hand I expect it with the impatience of a longing Woman, and indeed I'm abundantly pleased to find my persuasions strengthened by so Potent an Ally.  
And the more, when I hear some are Fugitives to their own persuasions, but inconstancy being the Running gout of the Soul, and natural to some persons both in their thinking and writing, I shall not say more of 'em, but that 'tis torment enough to groan out their remaining years in a helpless distemper. And now, Sir, I intent your ease in dismissing this Subject, which I assure you was imposed on me first in discourse, and then I was desired to set it down at a venture: what ever it be I shall rather leave it to your better judgement, than pretend to dispute it, although without all controversy, I am  
SIR, Your very humble Servant. Thomas Shipman.   

THE PROLOGUE Intended, and Part spoken by Mr. Hart.  
YOu're not t'expect to day the modists sport,  
Affronting either City, or the Court.  
Our Poet's mannerly and cautious too,  
And neither will abuse himself or you.  
Faith both are needless; since they're done each day,  
By you who judge, and he who writes a Play.  
The sacred thirst for Bays and Fame is gone,  
And Poetry now turns Extortion.  
Nay worse, Stage-Poetry seduces more  
Than Wine, or Women ever did before.  
Gained by its Charms, hither the Wits resort;  
The Stage robs both the Pulpit and the Court.  
The other Sex too are stark rhyming mad,  
Even from the Lady to the Chamber Maid.  
Nor do these Charms in the North Country fail,  
But took our Poet both from Hounds and Ale.  
His Scenes, such as they are, in France are laid;  
Where you may see the ancient English Trade;  
Either in beating France, or giving aid.  
Such virtue reigned then in our Smiles or frowns,  
Those did defend, as these could conquer Crowns.  
These Miracles were in Eliza's reign  
Whose left hand France and Holland did sustain,  
And whose right hand both baffled Rome and Spain.  
Whilst England only could the World subdue;  
Nay found a new one out, and reigned there too;  
judge then what now Great Britanny may do!  
Since now her Helm a greater Prince does guide;  
Who has th' advantage of his Sex beside.  
Tho here our Poet rather would make known  
His country's reputation, than his own:  
Yet he may chance by Critics to be hissed,  
As he entrenched upon the Casuist.  
But he no Controversies sets on foot;  
And thinkest were better if none else would do't.  
Nor tells you which Religion he is on;  
May be (like some of you) he is of none.  
If this prove true— He must the Statesman move:  
Then for the Ladies he has Scenes of Love.  
And here, Gallants are fighting Scenes for you:  
Nay here is Huffing for you Hector's too.  
What the Pox, Gentlemen, would you have more?  
You're cloyed sure with the Atheist and the Whore.   

ERRATA.  
IN pag. 2. line 33. read bosom. p. 10. l. 6. that belongs. p. 11. l. 32. deal our. p. 17. l. 8. Sir. l. 15. respects. l. 23. let us. l. 26. Spirits. p. 23. l. 14. he. p. 24. l. 34. deal to. p. 28. l. 16. you'll love. p. 30. l. 29. speak. p. 36. l. 30. do more. p. 38. l. 13. make. p. 48. l. 7. in this. p. 49. l. 24. can fix a. l. 25. inflam d Jellies. p. 50. l. 9 disease. p. 55. l. 4. has. p. 60. l. 28. r. public act. p. 66. l. 15. two. p. 68 l. 6. nor ever. p. 69. l. 24. descants, l. 34. by th'Guards. p. 65. l. 2. Thousands of Souls. Epilog. l. 4. deal own.   

The Persons Re-presented.  

HEnry the Third King of France, Loves Chateauneuf and Gab.  
Henry King of Navarre, Loves Gabriel.  
Henry Duke of of Guise, Loves Gabriel.  
Francis Cardinal of Guise.  
Grillon, Colonel of the Guards, Loves Gabriel.  
Guessle Proctor General.  
Revol Secretary of State.  
Plessis Secretary to Navar.  
Pericart Secretary to Guise.  
Larchant Captain of the Guards.  
Comolet a jesuit.  
Friar a Conjurer.  
Burgoin Prior of the jacobines.  
james Clement a jacobine Novice.   

Commanders, Soldiers, Spirits, Attendants, Guards, etc.  
Gabriel de Estree, Mistress to Henry the fourth.  
Chateauneuf, Mistress to Henry the Third.  
Armida Friend to Gabriel.  
Bonneval Friend to Chateauneuf.  
Attendants, etc.   
The Scene, Blois, removed at th'Fourth Act to the Camp at St. Clou, before Paris.   

TO THE Most Illustrious Prince JAMES Duke of Monmouth and Buckleugh and General of His Majesty's Armies, Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and One of His Majesty's most honourable Privy Council, etc.  
WHen Wars were rumoured, or great Dangers near,  
Mars then was sought, his Temples crowded were.  
From You, great Sir, and from your Flaming Blade,  
Our Eden boasts her Glory and her Aid;  
Not Eden only with your beams you gilled;  
But like the Sunshine upon every Field.  
'Tis duty than our Laurels we should bring  
As Offerings to the Power that makes them spring.  
They 'mplore, great Sir, your influence and your aid;  
Laurels themselves! of Thunder not afraid!  
Were Muses mortal, Halters might 'em fright  
From speaking truth, as some from acting right.  
'Tis vain to fear th' effects of jesuits rage,  
If You, great Sir, vouchsafe your Patronage.  
What Gen'ral e'er began with more renown,  
At once to guard the Mitre and the Crown;  
Charles is our jove, in's Conduct blessed we are;  
And Monmouth is his Thunderbolt of War.  
Witness the French at Mastricht, who, with shame,  
Kindled their Valours at his generous Flame.  
You were the ruling Genius of the Field;  
Their empty veins your Spirits only filled.  
You taught 'em how to Conquer, raised their Name,  
'Twas You advanced their Trophies, lent 'em Fame;  
Which on a brave Design you did bestow;  
That is, to make them fit to be your Foe.  
Raised by your Acts at higher things they aim;  
To follow Monmouth is the Road to Fame.  
Europe, at their successful Arms, amazed  
Looked pale, and all its trembling Princes gazed.  
On Brittain's mighty Monarch fixed their Eyes,  
Whose greater puissance did 'em more surprise.  
For English Conquests swiftly'r might advance;  
Since England more than once had Conquered France.  
But then rememb'ring Charles as Just, as Great,  
His Help, as their last refuge, they entreat.  
Mons is besieged and ready to be ta'en!  
Monmouth being absent other hopes were vain.  
At your approach the Gallic flame expires:  
Thus does the Sun put out the weaker Fires.  
Your very Name did wearied Mons release,  
Made the French fly, and truckle to a Peace;  
Swift as the Lightning, and as piercing too!  
jove thus on's Eagle at the Giants flew.  
The Ancient Romans did some fear betray  
To pinion Victory, and force her stay:  
She like their Conquering Eagle courts your Hand,  
And will kill surer by your Conduct manned.  
What e'er she flies at must your Quarry be;  
Who can resist Monmouth and Victory?  
The fiery Mars is powerful in his Sphere,  
Yet loses Virtue when concerned elsewhere;  
Our Mars a gen'ral influence can afford;  
There is his Sphere, where e'er he draws his Sword.  
In such exploits Caesar was never skilled,  
First to teach France to Conquer, then to Yield.  
Thus AEolus, with his impetuous Bands,  
Charging the Lybian Deserts, drives the Sands  
Into a Mountain, which his Trophy stands.  
Till changing sides, He rallies in the Air  
His Troops, and then Commands to sound to War:  
The lofty Pageant tumbles to the ground,  
And's Trophy now is in its ruins found.  
By your Grace's most humble and most Devoted Servant. Novemb. 1678. Thomas Shipman.   

Henry the Third OF FRANCE.  


ACT. I. SCENE I. The Court at Blois.  Enter Guise, Cardinal, Pericart. Guise 
WHat! shall the Providence of our Fate be vain,  
In being sprung fro' th' blood of Charlemagne?  
Shall those rich streams (like Iordan's silver flood)  
Be lost i'th' dull Sea of Hugh Capets' blood?  
Shall th' Name of Valois flourish o'er Lorraine?  
Our Golden Lilies whither with disdain?  
No! tho in azure Field so long they stood,  
I'll drown their splendours first in fields of blood.  Car. 
This resolution's brave, and nobly flies  
Unto a pitch, worthy the Name of Guise.  
Nor does our Princely House derive its fame  
(As this was all) from Charlemains great name:  
No, we have other boasts as just and fair;  
Since from great Clovis we descended are.  
Clovis! the first of all our ancient Kings,  
Who made the Roman Eagles droop their wings.  
He, who the Monarchy of Gaul did found,  
And with the sacred 'cross the Lilies crowned.  Per. 
Eleven of 'em, Kings from Charlemagne;  
Of whom five did the Western Empire gain.  
Charles of Lorraine; the last of that great Race,  
Outed by Capet, who usurped the place.  Car. 
Yet Heaven revenged our wrongs: as witness bear  
The English Lions; who so oft did tear  
Our Lilies from their stems; and did advance  
Their Ensigns on our Walls, and conquered France.  Guise. 
Look but how judgement prosecutes them still!  
What England once has done, again she will.  
That British Harpy, who robs all the gain,  
And watches o'er the golden Mines of Spain;  
Whose Canvas wings about the World have flown,  
As by that charm she'd circled in her own.  
A Virgin! Who her neighbouring Kings outbraves,  
Scorning to match with her intended Slaves.  
This Heretic, this Woman, dares combine  
Against our League, and with Navarre does join.  
She flatters him; and fools the King t' advance  
Her swelling hopes, in captivating France.  Car. 
Yet see how Heaven our great designments mind  
In this rare Providence, just now designed.  
Th' invincible Armada for us waits,  
And domineers now in the British straits.  
To conquer that small Island will be more,  
Than the new World the Spaniard gained before.  Guise. 
And conquered it must be.— This Navy vast.  
Seven days ago near unto Calais past.  
When it was first presented to my eyes,  
As up the briny Convex it did rise;  
Methought it seemed just as the World did peep,  
When first it rose fro' th' bottom of the Deep.  
The Waves o'er burdened with the Ships they bore,  
Fled from the weight, and panted on the shore.  Car. 
When this Elizabeth's no more a Queen;  
Navarre has not one hope to step between  
Him and his ruin: for when heaven's so just  
To make the Valois fall, (as fall he must)  
The Hollander dares only for him stand;  
And Porpoises can little do by land.  Per. 
Since Orange died their baffled Spirits retreat;  
Whose blood did only that crude Body heat.  
Those phlegmatic dull States can never own  
A sanguine temper, now his brave One's gone.  
But, Sir, his sudden death may caution you  
T' avoid delays; since you are mortal too.  Guise. 
I know it well.  Car. 
Then, Sir, I needs must fear,  
Since here our Brother Main writes how Navarre [shows a Letter.  
Will be within three leagues of Blois to night.  Guise. 
Let him; so Main but keep him in his sight.  
Were he but here, he were as good as ta'en  
'Twixt Paris and the Army of Du Main.  
When opportunities are fitted so,  
Neither in vain to frown, nor make a blow,  
I'll charge through lightning to attaque my Foe.  
Has Pericart yet humoured my desire,  
In making trial of the conj'ring Fry'r.  Per. 
Yes, Sir, and him above reports did find.  Car. 
Reports to Lies and Miracles are kind.  Guise. 
Desist; for you Philosophers are all  
In your opinions too pragmatical.  
How did you find him?  Per. 
Sir, above the rate  
Of Mortals; like the Favourite of Fate.  
For how can he be less? who can control  
The numerous Spirits, that swarm 'twixt either Pole?  
None of 'em but will come at his command  
More swift than Falcons to a wonted hand.  
Leaving the Crystal Regions of the Sky,  
Like shooting Stars, to his desires they fly.  
He, more to gain my credit, did prepare  
To show he could command the Prince o'th' Air.  
He from the Earth thick Vapours made to rise,  
Which by his Art turned Nitre in the Skies;  
Then rammed into a Cloud, he stretched his hand,  
Making a Lynstock of his Magic wand.  
The aery Cannon flamed at his desire,  
Disgorging both its thunder and its fire.  Guise. 
'Tis very strange!  Card. 
So strange it is, that I—  
Think Pericart is one that scorns to lie,  
Yet must be satisfied from my own Eye.  Per. 
That he has promised, Sir. Within a Wood,  
A league from Blois, where once a Temple stood  
Of mighty Oaks, roofed o'er with woven boughs,  
Where Druids formerly did pay their vows,  
He has a Cave: wherein he does relate  
His Oracles, and future hints of fate.  
This Evening is appointed for the Scene.  Guise. 
Told he what those Nativities did mean?  Per. 
He'll do his best, and if in that he fail,  
By ways more sacred he'll your fates reveal.  
He'll wait for you before an hour be past.  Car. 
Then will I meet you there. [Exit. Card.  Par. 
Now, Sir, at last;  
You'll hear some words about your proper fate.  Guise. 
Let's talk of Love— we've talked enough of State.  
Now Pericart, what news from Orleans?  Per. 
My way was shortened by a happy chance.  
Sir, at the Friars, I Madam Gabriel met.  Guise. 
How, Madam Gabriel, thrice happy fate!  Per. 
And with her one of my acquaintance too,  
Armida named.  Guise. 
How! Meet your Mistress too?  
I hope this good portends.  Per. 
And so hoped I.  
Then did I soon myself to them apply;  
And told 'em there was none or little choice  
Of Lodgings, since the great resort to Blois.  
But mine they might command; Gabriel replied,  
It was a favour not to be denied.  Guise. 
Dear Pericart! Although before possessed,  
Thou hast a greater share now in my breast.  
As great as that Usurper Love will spare;  
And yet for greater room thou struglest there.  Per. 
My Services cannot deserve that boast,  
Since in my Duty they are all engrossed.  
The Fry'r, Sir, her Nativity just cast;  
The fate she's born to, he declares is vast.  [Gives a Paper to Guise, who reads it. 
Your Beauty shall gain much renown.  
In being destined for a Crown.  
Yet He that shall your State advance,  
Is not, but must be King of France.  Guise. 
If our Designments now successful be,  
This Fry'r (for aught I know) may point at me.  
Our greatest diligence this needs must move,  
Concerned in Glory now, as well as Love.  
Whilst we are with the Fry'r, direct thy care  
To bring her to my Lodgings, when we're there  
A farther secret I'll to thee impart,  
And thou shalt share my glory and my heart. [Exeunt.   

SCENE. II. Chamber of Presence.  Enter Revol, Guesile, Plessis, Grillon. Rev. 
MY Lords, the King will instantly be here.  Gues. 
'Tis strange the Guises will not yet appear.  Bless. 
'Tis like their Acts. All must attend their State.  Gril. 
May be they'll make the King himself to wait. [To 'em King, Larchant, and Guards.  King. 
Larchant, attend without. How are you all?  Rev. 
We want the Duke, Sir, and the Cardinal.  King. 
They drove me from the Lovure th' other day,  
And now keep others and themselves away.  Enter Guise, Cardinal. King. 
Your sleeps are long, or else your motions slow.  Guise. 
We both our duty and neglect, Sir, know.  Car. 
A settled mind, that no vain thoughts overcome,  
Can sleep without the aids of Opium.  King. 
A plain and honest heart, without disguise,  
Is more serene than are Egyptian skies;  
Where neither clouds of discontent—  
Nor storms of passion rise.  Guise. 
For my own part, I publicly declare,—  
Passion and Interest both secluded are  
From my desires; which altogether join  
T' establish firm the Laws and Church divine.  Car. 
There needs not this. It is already done  
By the late League agreed on at Peron.  Bless. 
'Tis odd, methinks, into extremes to fly  
Gainest others, 'cause they think not so as I.  
I full as justly may my hate declare  
To those that differ in their clothes and hair.  King. 
The League made at Peron is too severe;  
The Paris Edicts too indulgent are.  
I'll choose the mean, and 'twixt both these will run,  
Endeavouring (as I can) an Union.  
But to the fairest means I'll have recourse  
And if those will not do, I'll then use force.  Guise. 
For sometime to this trial we may yield,  
But let no Heretic upon it build.  Rev. 
Tho to the Romish faith I must agree,  
Yet I would also a true Frenchman be.  
Let's lay by all effects of violence,  
Let Churchmen only Consciences convince:  
They may persuade, whom we cannot constrain;  
As Lions may be stroked into a Chain.  Guise. 
Who are those Lions? I will make them fall,  
Or bring a Bull from Rome t' outroar 'em all.  
If you would make 'em truckle to your Laws,  
Or knock their teeth out, Sir, or break their claws,  
Then let 'em grin their worst.—  Gril. 
The Duke of Guise,  
As is his spirit, so is his advice,  
Noble and fierce. But, Sir, the time's not fit  
For War, nor is there cause to manage it.  Gues. 
We know Navarre to be a Soldier born,  
Whose conduct at Coutras we yet do mourn.  Guise. 
I soon cried quit at the Battle of Arnean;  
Where I the German Army did overthrow.  Rev. 
'Tis very true, that Action was most brave:  
But strong Confederates Navarre must have.  Bless. 
Sir, he is certain of the English Queen,  
The King of Scotland, and the Palatine,  
Wirtenberg, Saxony, Pomerania, Hess,  
The Holland forces and the warlike Swise.  Guise. 
Well let 'em, let 'em all their forces bring,  
Those Dukes, that English Queen, and scottish King.  
Tho other Frenchmen to such lowness fall,  
And suffer it, I will confront 'em all.  
I'll not degenerate from the House of Guise!  
My Father sell Religion's sacrifice;  
And though I die, a double Crown will come,  
Laurels for War, Roses for martyrdom.  Car. 
These Hugonot's presumptions are forgot;  
Our Father, Sir, was murdered by Pultrot;  
Th' endangered both your Brother's Life and Crown;  
Favouring 'em, seems as we their Crimes did own.  
What th' Admiral then suffered by your vow,  
Others there are, as much deserve it now.  Guise. 
We ventured then on Men as brave, and great  
As France has any now. If some forget  
What they escaped, and what they promised then,  
When it comes to't, they shall not 'scape again.  Gril. 
Who would believe that murder and sur prize  
Could be reminded by the Duke of Guise?  
Let not an Act encouraged be by you,  
Which Grillon thinks below himself to do.  Guise. 
Am I to be controlled by you, Sir? Know,  
It has not been the wont, nor shall be so.  Gril. 
Death! What a huffings here? were I allowed  
The liberty you take— I'd—  Guise. 
You are proud  
In your command; and happy these are by.  Gril. 
More happy far, if only you and I.  King. 
Hold, Grillon, I command, or go.  Gril. 
I go  
But first would have these Lorrainers to know,  
One word from you  
Does more than they, and all Lorraine can do. [Exit Grillon.  King. 
His boisterous Soul to every one is known.  Car. 
May be e'er long it will be calmer grown.  Guise. 
Sir, to be plain, such Fellows as these are,  
Favoured by you, almost proclaim a War.  
They rob the greatest treasure you can have;  
I mean the hearts of all men great and brave,  King. 
Let us leave trifles, and the main advance;  
We're here assembled for the good of France.  Car. 
'Tis true; and, Sir, your Royal word is gone,  
No Heretic should sit upon the Throne.  
judge but what contradictions it would bring,  
An Heretic, and the Most Christian King!  
And since illustrious Anjou hence is gone,  
Navarre is one step nearer to the Throne.  
For we in Heraldry are so well read,  
To know the House of Bourbon must succeed,  
If you die without Heirs, which Heaven forbid  Bless. 
'Tis odd discourse, a King to entertain,  
Young and in health, with whom must after reign.  
It is but little less than to degrade  
The very power of Heaven it does invade.  Guise. 
I wonder whence this boldness is derived.  Bless. 
Fro'th'King my Master: when I here arrived,  
I my Credentials gave.  King. 
You welcome are.  
Speak his Commands.  Car. 
Commands, Sir, from Navarre?  King. 
ay, Sir, has not a King a Title good?  
And is not he besides first Prince o'th' Blood?  
Deliver up your Message.  Bless. 
Sir, I bring—  
In the first place defiance from my King  
To any one in France, that dares relate  
He's in the least, a Troubler of the State.  
He only arms against rebellious foes,  
Wh'attempt your Crown under religious shows.  
He than defies—  
And challenges by me the Duke of Guise.  Guise. 
I answer not the challenge rash and vain;  
'Tis known I've fought, and I dare fight again.  
If he turn Catholic it is not fit;  
And if he do not, tell him we shall meet.  
I'll reach his Head though it were ten times higher,  
And meet him! Tho, as Powder meets with fire.  Bless. 
From that Persuasion whereto he was bred  
He faithfully engages to recede—  
When by a lawful Council he is shown  
A better faith, than what he yet has known.  Car. 
We ask but his conversion; that's our aim;  
France then may keep her safety and her fame.  
Since this is promised; Sir, we beg of you—  
That You the Oath of Union would renew.  King. 
Withdraw and soon assemble all the States  
To sign the Edict. I at any rates  
Would purchase Peace, the greatest blessing given,  
Or that e'er can expected be from Heaven. [Exeunt.  King and Grillon returns. 
Grillon, my Brother of Navarre writes here [Shows a Letter.  
His Army and Duke Mayn's are very near,  
And watch each other with a jealous fear.  Gril. 
Yet, Sir, my Scouts now bring me word last night  
Some Horse of Mayns, about the parting light,  
Marched this way from their Camp; doubtless to make  
discoveries from such Prisoners they can take;  
And knowing, Sir, your weakness (till Navarre  
join with you) will presume to venture far.  
But if you please I will a Party head,  
And them into the neighbouring Wood will lead;  
So the surprizers selves may be surprised.  King. 
Grillon, perform what you have well advised.  
But first I'd have you to declare the proof  
Of your address, to beauteous Chateneuf.  Gril. 
It little did avail; Tho I did try  
All means; but you can better do't then I.  
In any business belongs that to War,  
I could far stronger Arguments prepare.  
She said, she could not Love as you required;  
Neither would you, Sir, Love as she desired.  King. 
I understand her not.  Gril. 
Her meaning is—  
She'd have a Husband, and you'd have a Miss.  King. 
Grillon, too oft we Kings in Passions prove  
Like common men, and are enslaved in Love.  
But then in Marri'ges we are confined—  
And must our State consult and interest mind.  Gril. 
That's very much! Love, State and Interest too!  
I'm only bound to Love (that's kiss and woo)  
And one of these is full enough to do.  To'em Chateaneuf, Bonneval. King. 
Here's Bonneval, and now you may make proof.  Gril. 
So, Sir, may you, for here is Chateauneuf.  Chat. 
Pardon, Sir, our Intrusion; we are rude.  King. 
Fair Chateauneuf can never here intrude.  Chat. 
We may disturb you tho.  King. 
Not in the least:  
I no disturbance find but in my breast:  
And, Madam, there you take but little care. Bonnev. and Grillon aside.  Chat. 
I must presume to say unjust you are:  
For if I could, Sir, your disturbance free,  
You need not long expect a remedy.  King. 
O Chateauneuf no happiness I want,  
If what you promise you'll vouchsafe to grant.  
But such unkind distinctions find you will,  
Just in their birth my struggling hopes you kill.  Chat. 
Sir, your Prerogative in words is known;  
Your words and my thoughts too are both our own.  King. 
But, Madam, why can no persuasions move.  
That all I speak are pure effects of Love?  Chat. 
Love should find equal objects, Worth and State;  
Which are (you know) denied to me by fate.  King. 
I can bring State, and You can merit bring;  
Be you the Queen of Love I'll be the King.  Chat. 
O, Sir, suppress this too injurious flame,  
Lest what you mean my honour, turn your shame!  
Let me myself in my own shadow hide,  
And never tempt me with so vain a pride.  King. 
Such Rhetoric as this you vainly move,  
Which seems mere slight of the God of Love.  
And though I grant most powerful you be,  
There's no contesting with that Deity.  Chat. 
If, Sir, his power be such, he scorns a slight,  
To save his credit let him show his might.  
And when I find my Honour has a share  
With your desires, and both united are;  
There needs no argument my heart to move  
And without Cupid's power I then may Love.  King. 
A faint content like unto theirs who lie  
Languishing without hopes, but must not die.  
But Time and Truth may remedies reveal.  
And what has wounded now, at last may heal.  
Grillon about your charge. [Exeunt. King and Chateauneuf.  Gril. 
I cannot stay, [To Bonneval staying him.  
And this discourse requires a Summer's day.  Bon. 
This you indiff'rency enough does prove;  
We're seldom weary of the things we Love.  Gril. 
'Tis true, when one has nothing else to do;  
But who can manage Love and business too?  Bon. 
Love claims the present hour; the next you may  
Bestow on our business,  Gril. 
Death! Another day  
I'll tire you out with Love, and making moan  
Even from the rising to the setting Sun,  
Nay if you please, we will talk down the Moon.  Bon. 
Grillon, on this condition you are free. [Exit. Bon.  Gril. 
O Heaven! The blessed delight of liberty. [Exit. Grillon.  
Explicit Act. I.    


ACT. II. SCENE. I. The Wood near Blois.  Enter Gabriel, Armida. Arm. 
I Now find true what I have often read,  
A Crown brings trouble to the owner's Head,  
For Since you only were for one designed,  
Your sleeps have been as restless as your mind.  Gab. 
Armida, yet thou know'st not Gabriel right,  
Content I value, and a Crown can slight.  
I'm only fearful lest such dreams advance  
Ambitious Guise to seek the Crown of France.  
Fierce are the working Passions of his mind,  
His Soul's, though to Ambition most inclined.  
Venus, without a Crown, he would disdain,  
And love, or hate, or any thing, to reign.  Arm. 
This should not you disturb. He must succeed  
In his desires, if by the Stars decreed.  Gab. 
Yet if I now should to his Love incline,  
His Treason and Ambition would be mine.  
And if a Crown should chance to be my lot  
By Love-designs it only shall be got.  Arm. 
Well, Madam, we shall make a better choice  
Of observations, when we come to Blois.  Gab. 
Your Pericart by promise comes to day,  
And from the Fry'rs will thither us convey.  
Under the shady Trees let's walk a while  
Both Time and expectation to beguile. [Exeunt.  Enter Captain, Soldiers, going out. Capt. 
Into our Ambush some must fall. Lie close; To Soldiers going.  
All ways are lawful to entrap our Foes.  Enter a Soldier. Sold. 
Upon the Hill 'twixt this and Orleans,  
Right-hand the Road, I 'spy some Horse advance.  Capt. 
How many may they be?  Sold. 
Some three, or four.  Capt. 
Why did you stir, unless they had been more?  Sold. 
Methought they more and more begant' appear.  Capt. 
Some dreadful Troop of Thistles!  Sold. 
Gad! I swear,  
I saw 'em move.  Capt. 
Some Troop of horned Beasts,  
Or Trees with waving Plumes upon their Crests.  
Dost think they were not Clouds.  Sold. 
I know not well;  
I'll try once more and then may surely tell. [Exit.  Enter first Soldier. Sold. 
Two Ladies, Sir, are fallen into our snare.  Capt. 
Dost think I came with Women to make War.  Sold. 
When seen, you'll think it much the safer choice  
To charge the strongest Regiment in Blois.  Capt. 
Are they so beautiful?  Sold. 
Gad! Captain, more  
Than you, or all the World e'er saw before.  Capt. 
Go, bring 'em in. Sure they can do no harm. [Exit. Sold.  
I'm cold, and they may serve to make me warm.  Enter second Soldier with Ladies. 
Gad, beautiful! Fair Lady, I'm for you;  
The other you may share betwixt you two They hand her, Arm. runs out.  Arm. 
Heaven lend me Wings!  I Sold. 
There after thee I'll fly,  
Rather than miss my Quarry. [Exit.  2 Sold. 
So will I. [Exit.  Capt. 
Come, Madam, Come. [Hands Gabriel.  Gab. 
What do you mean to do?  Capt. 
I am in Love.  Gab. 
'Tis now no time to woo.  
Bless me! Your looks are strange.  Capt. 
I mean to prove  
All ways, to quench my raging flames of Love.  Gab. 
I'll die first. [Strives with her.  Capt. 
How! Deny me such a bliss.  
Which when I have obtained, you cannot miss.  Gab. 
Not miss mine Honour?  Capt. 
No, 'tis very right,  
No more than miss your shadow in the night.  
I am resolved. [Forces her out.  Gab. 
Just Heaven vouchsafe your aid, Cries loudly as she's dragged forth.  
Unto a Virgin treacherously betrayed. [Exeunt.  Enter Scouting, Soldier. Sold. 
How gone! I was afraid to come again  
Till Trees, and Beasts, and Thistles turn to men. [Flies out.  Enter Navarre armed with Soldiers. Nau. 
This way I heard the cry. He pursues, after clashing Swords brings in Gabriel.  Gab. 
Upon my knee—  
I pay my thanks, thou true Divinity!  
Thou canst be nothing less; since thou hast shown  
Both help and pity, when all hopes were gone.  Nau. 
You Guardian-Angels! I must tax your care  
For suffering this: to what end shine you there?  
That one as fair as you, and as divine,  
Should need, alas, a mortals help like mine?  Gab. 
O, Sir, disparage not those heavenly powers!  
Their vigilance is far more quick than ours.  
By what is past we only guide our sense,  
Then rule our actions by the consequence.  
But they foresee what never yet was done,  
And so prevent a fate that's hurrying on;  
As by your blessed assistance here was shown.  
Those Guardian-Angels, do not then condemn;  
They brought you here, or you are one of them.  Nau. 
My inclinations yield unto the charms  
O'th' God of War, and I was born to Arms;  
But never knew before a Cause so just,  
I've rescued Chastity and routed Lust.  
The Grecian Hero did the World subdue;  
I've gained more glory in protecting you.  Gab. 
I hope the action, Sir, is your reward,  
At least if these my Virgin's prayers be heard.  
May all the blessings that attend the prayers  
Of Virgin Saints, when they are freed from tears;  
May all the Crowns and glorious recompense  
Of Martyrs, Chastity, and Innocence  
Be your reward, I cannot you requite.  Nau. 
Madam, you've more than done it by your sight.  Gab. 
Your favour vies with Heaven's; for Heaven but gave  
My sense of Honour; My Honour you did save.  Enter a Soldier. 1. Sold. 
To horse, to horse, fresh Squadrons, Sir, are nigh.  Nau. 
Madam, I'll make your safety good or die.  A Second Soldier. 2 Sold. 
Fresh Parties rise from all parts of the Wood,  
As Cadmus it with Dragon's teeth had sowed.  Nau. 
Vouchsafe your hand. By this blessed touch inspired,  
My Courage and my Resolution's fired.  
Thus, Madam, will I charge, and all must fly. draws his sword with her in the other hand.  
By my sword conquered, or your brighter Eye.  
Let 'em be ne'er so strong and brave, they shall,  
Or by my Thunder, or your Lightning fall. [Exeunt.  Enter Captain and Soldiers. Cap. 
Command the Ambush all to rise with haste:  
Charge with such fury to redeem what's past. [Exeunt.  Enter Gabrel. Gab. 
Whilst there's a Providence, I need not fear;  
His worth and virtue have obliged Heaven's care.  
The Guards He set o'er me are killed, and I  
Exposed again, and know not where to fly. [Exit.  Enter Grillon and Soldiers. Gril. 
Death! I am come too short! 'T was briskly fought,  
But will make large amends, when I come to't.  Enter Captain and Soldiers. Capt. 
Let's beat this party out; they'll quickly run,  
And then the Plunder and the Fields our own,  
Yield, or you die. [to Grillon.  Gril. 
Dog! seest thou in my face—  
The least point of a line that looks so base?  
Were't thou now jove himself in that disguise,  
In thy Arms Thunder, Lightning in thy Eyes,  
Thus would I charge, and to thy ruin prove:  
Grillon would die, or trample upon jove. [All fight.  Cap. 
How Grillon! Then we're lost. [Offers to fly.  Gril. 
Fool! Wilt thou fly? [Stays him.  
And lose the fame by Grillon's hands to die?  
I'll be more kind, and here the favour's shown,  
Consulting thus thy glory and my own. Kills him and beats his Party off.  Enter Navarre and Soldiers. Gril. 
Ha! Who art thou that looks so like a Man?  
A thing I met not here, since I began.  
Thou art worthy of my Sword. [Offers to fight.  Sould. 
Hold, 'Tis Navar.  Gril. 
Death, Sir, what made you venture out so far?  
Your Valour's great, and great should be your care.  Nau. 
This Party of Du Mayns, I have pursued,  
Until I lodged them here within the Wood  
Being resolved to see the Coast was clear  
Before I marched; and I shall soon be here. [Enter a Soldier.  
What makes thy haste? The news?  Soul. 
Your Scouts, Sir, ' spy  
Two Squadrons of Du Mayn's that hover nigh.  Nau. 
To horse.  Soul. 
To horse.  Nau. 
My service to the King: [to Grillon.  
My Arms and duty to his aid I'll bring  
Grillon farewell, be watchful. [Exit Navarre cum suis.  Gril. 
When you're gone,  
I shall too many be although alone.  
Command 'em sound to horse. [Exeunt Milites.  Enter a Soldier. Soul. 
The King is near,  
Hearing the fight.  Gril. 
I shall attend him here.  
Command some in to carry off the Dead. [Exit Soldier.  Enter Soldiers with Gabriel. Soul. 
This Woman, Sir, we took; she swiftly fled.  
Her fear speaks guilt.  Gril. 
Ha! What art thou I see?  
Sure, thou art either Fame or Victory,  
I could not love thee else! Whatever thou art,  
Thou art the first e'er conquered Grillons heart.  Gab. 
Talk not of conquering, Sir, I beg your aid,  
Although I see my Enemy there dead. [Points to the Captain.  Gril. 
Were all the World thy Foes, let Grillon be  
Thy Champion, they should be as dead as he.  Soldiers leading in Armida. Soul. 
We found this other, Sir, in the same case.  Gab. 
O my Armida let me thee embrace: [Embrace.  
Art thou in safety, Dear Armida tell?  Armid. 
O dearest Madam, that you were as well.  Gab. 
Blessed be our fate. [Embrace again.  Gril. 
Let me as happy be. [Offers also; she puts him by.  
Death, Madam! know I love you more than she.  Gab. 
Let your requests then, Sir, declare that love.  Gril. 
How! Daunted! I can neither speak or move. Stands amazed.  Armi. 
The place of our abode is very near.  Gab. 
Our wishes and good Fortune wait you here. [Exeunt Gabriel and Armida.  Grillon walking confused and arms cross. Enter King, Revol, Larchant, Guesile, and Guards. King. 
What Apparition's that, that walketh there?  Revol. 
'Tis Grillon or his Ghost, Sir.  King. 
Let's hear. [Listens. Grillon not seeing them.  Gril. 
Who would believe, a Woman could obtain  
A Conquest here, ne'er purchased yet by Man?  
My Spirit's flat, their former vigours cease;  
Trumpets sound harsh, and now no longer please:  
My humour's changed, I can no more delight.  
To whet my Sword, or keep my Armour bright.  King. 
who e'er robbed Grillon of his former mind Discovering himself.  
Was much to me, but more to France unkind  
Who is the Thief?  Gril. 
A Woman, Sir. I lie!  
An Angel! Some Court Lady of the Sky.  
O, Sir, Your Grillon's lost, your Grillon's gone;  
Ne'er more expect to see his Armour on.  
Perfumed and curled in Silks, he'll dance all day,  
All night his limbs on downy Quilts he'll lay,  
And sing his threats, and smile his frowns away.  King. 
Whence is this change?  Gril. 
Beauty, Sir, is the cause;  
Beauty! that conquers Kings, and tramples Laws.  King. 
Consult thy glory.  Gril. 
Farewell War and Fame.  
My breast must cherish now another flame.  King. 
What is this Beauty! she even makes thee mad.  Gril. 
O, Sir, she's something more than can be said.  
Fancy a Sword drawn at a trembling Foe,  
Brighter than mine, brighter than Cherubs know,  
Her Beauty shines at once, and conquers so.  
Her Brows are ready bent, like English Bows,  
And can as easily conquer France, as those.  
Her Eyes two bullets shot with swifter flame,  
Than ever yet from murdering engine came.  King. 
How he describes her in his Martial phrase,  
And acts a Soldier in a Lady's praise?  
Where is she Grillon?  Gril. 
Sir, I know not well.  King. 
Who is she Man?  Gril. 
Death, Sir, I cannot tell,  King. 
Thy juno must not be to us allowed,  
And thou art jealous, though she's in a cloud.  Gril. 
Had I the power to reach the Sun (that Eye  
Of Heaven itself) I'd pluck it from the Sky,  
Lest it should look and love as much as I  Revol. 
There are not Arguments enough to prove  
Grillon's high Soul can stoop so low as Love.  
Cupid but vainly aims his slender dart  
Against the breastplate of a vigorous heart.  
To that weak Passion only they're inclined,  
Who have the deep Consumption of the mind.  King. 
You cannot blame him, if the Lady be  
But half so fair, as he described to me.  Gril. 
Remember how I praised her, Sir, to you:  
'Twas very much, and yet far less than true.  
Gather those praises all into one Store,  
Add thousands, and she merits thousands more.  King. 
Well here's some comfort left, although she's fled,  
We have the Soldier, though we've lost the Maid.  Gril. 
No prize at all! you had as good have none;  
For what's a Soldier when his heart is gone?  King. 
To bring thee succour I did hither move;  
Expecting War, but am surprised with Love.  Gril. 
What War! 'Sdeath, Sir, what had I more to do?  
When Cowards fly, let other men pursue.  
Grillon below himself can never move.  
I conquered first, and then had time to love.  
The King, Sir, of Navarre was here and fought;  
To Blois his Army will be quickly brought.  King. 
The stubborn Leaguers then confront we shall,  
And make them either yield to us, or fall.  
Order our march to Blois.  Gril. 
Pray leave me here.  
She said the place of her abode was near.  King. 
In thy attempts may'st thou successful prove;  
And as in War, so triumph now in Love. [Exeunt omnes praeter Grillon  Gril. 
Tho from their trouble I myself have saved,  
I'm Prisoner still, to my own thoughts enslaved,  
There's no confinement like that of the mind;  
All other Bondage may releasements find.  
Those eyes that fettered me, must set me free;  
No other help for my captivity.  
With what despair my strongest hopes are crossed?  
Since both my jailer and the Keys are lost! [Exit.  Enter Guise meeting Pericart. Per. 
Sir, she's within and did but lately 'scape  
From some rude Soldiers a most horrid Rape,  
Which makes her far more earnest to be gone.  Guise. 
Thou must away my Quality's not known?  Per. 
No, Sir, for there I followed your advice.  
Your Brother's there already in disguise.  Guise. 
When at my Lodgings, as thou hast designed,  
Let her have all respects, yet be confined. [Exeunt.   

SCENE. II. The Cave in the Wood  Enter Cardinal, Fry'r, Guise to'em. Guise. 
NOw, Friend, art thou that Confident of Fate,  
Who canst her deepest mysteries relate?  Friar. 
Son, I am one, who can as much impart  
As any other, by the help of art.  
By Art, I say, not by a horrid spell;  
Like those, who bloody compacts make with Hell.  
Poor gloomy Souls! O'er whom the Fiend presumes,  
Fuddling their brains with melancholic fumes,  
Old Dotards, silly Hags! Whose wants, or hate  
Contrive with him some feigned Scenes of fate.  Card. 
May we presume, though to inquire of you,  
How you perform what Devils cannot do?  Friar. 
There is a Magic which has happed to some,  
And lawful as Traditions are to Rome.  
What those Magicians found (though known to few)  
I'm by the second hand impow'red to do.  
Whilst I still practise them, and thus proceed  
By Nature's rules, must do as those men did.  
When Passives are disposed that Actives may  
Fitly conjoin, we then have found the way.  Guise. 
Believe it, Father, you may show your skill  
To Persons, that will not requite you ill.  
These three Nativities have you yet cast,  
And brought their figures?  Friar. 
Son; the thing's too vast,  
And their Concerns too great, for me to frame,  
Or circumscribe i'th' limits of a Scheme.  
Far greater mysteries must that impart;  
Their fates exceed the vulgar rules of art.  
Those I have throughly tried, but tried in vain.  
Unless the Planets selves I can obtain,  
Your aim and my indeavour's lost.  Card. 
How will  
Our friends be satisfied?  Friar. 
I've one way still.  
Thrice fifty years ago, one Gyles-de-Raiz.  
(Marshal of France) my great Grandfather was.  
'T was he who first, with Necromantic art,  
Taught joan of Orleans to act her Part.  
Whose powerful charms made th' English quit the Field;  
No mortal force else could have made 'em yield.  
'T was he (as by my bloody Roll appears)  
Who hired two Spirits for two Hundred years.  
One is an Astral Spirit mild and fair,  
Embodied in our shape with thickened air.  
His vesture cut out of a morning Cloud,  
When with the peeping Sunbeams first it glowed.  
He only good foretells, and prosperous things,  
The fate of Heroes and renowned Kings.  
The other Earthy, and resides below,  
Deep in the Centre; yet my call does know;  
Then rises like a Damp, till th' Air it meet.  
Which to a gloomy form condenses it.  
This only blood foretells, and wicked things,  
The fate of Rebels and unprosp'rous Kings.  
But what I can do, You shall quickly try  
— What ever you espy—  
Stir not, nor speak, nor fear, whilst I am by.  He muses and mutters. 
Last night I did my thoughts intentive keep  
Till midnight; when heavens' Eyes were all asleep.  
The World was hushed in slumbers: In deep Caves  
No breath of Winds, nor murmur from the Waves.  
Just then when Ghosts their dismal haunt pursue,  
And Oberon invites his Fairy Crew,  
(Like Cleopatra) to sip Pearls in Dew.  
I at that time Music aloft did hear,  
Which made me know my Astral Spirit near.  
It in few minutes at my Call appeared;  
And soon as my Commands were heard—  
O'th' Errand swiftly flies,—  
— And sooner reached the skies,—  
Then Prayers of Saints, or darts shot from the Eyes.  
My earthy Spirit too (moregiv'n to sloth)  
— By Nature dull and heavy, both—  
Roused at my Call, and my Commands to keep—  
Shot down to search the Caverns of the Deep.  
And now— if Heaven or Hell these secrets hide,  
Within few minutes they shall be descried. [Exit. Friar.  A Table brought, a Censor of burning Coals, a Cabinet, etc. He returns, a Cap on, a Wand, and book in's hands; taking out of the Cabinet a piece of Chalk. 
This Piece of Chalk a sacred Cave did own;  
Long since digged in the Mountains of the Moon;  
Where oft she met her, loved Endymion.  
This Powder mixed well with a certain Flower, Scrapes it, and mixes it.  
That shaded both the Lovers in the Bower,  
And crittically got i' th' happy hour.  
With three thin shave of her waxing horn—  
Steeped in five due drops of a Maydays morn, [Shows 'em.  
Just then when April died, and May was born.  
Three leaves of Moonshade dried, and after put  
To a grain of Powder of a Dormouse Gut; [Shows 'em.  
With three small pieces of a Mandrake root.  
These seven Ingredients mixed make a Perfume Burns and strews.  
Whose vapours mount and Ashes strew the Room;  
Each a fit Charm to make my Spirits come. [Table taken in. He Circles 'em in with his Wand.  
Within this Circle you're secure,  
As brazen Walls did you immure:  
Security is not more sure.  Reads and waves his Wand. 
Descend! Descend! Descend! Thou from the Skies!  
Thou from the Earth, Arise! Arise! Arise.  
Come quickly from the Cloud, and say  
How thou didst my Commands obey.  Music far off. Spirit descending leisurely. Sings this, viz. SPIRIT SINGS. 
AFter I had your Orders last night,  
I met with a path all paved with light,  
And yet with my passing I made it more bright.  
Then through the lowest Region I flew,  
Sousing through falling Bogs of Dew,  
By the Moon's Orb then swiftly I passed,  
No lightning nor thought made ever such haste;  
Nor did I stay, till Venus I found  
All covered with Roses, and with Myrtles Crowned.  
Each Rose did in native Scarlet appear;  
Yet every Rose was outblushed by her,  
Because I found Mars in the midst of her Sphere.  
Your Summons she read, and obeyed with a Nod,  
I had ne'er gained else that stubborn God.  
Then I flew to an Orb, that was much more than bright;  
With Diamonds studded and roofed o'er with light.  
I knew't could be none  
But Jupiter's Throne;  
My Summons he read, and obeyed with a frown.  
And now all the three are there coming down.  
No fate ne'er so dark escape can their sense,  
Since each of 'em is an intelligence.  
Look, Sir, they hover, all three hover there, [Spirit descends.  
Wave but your Wand, and all three will appear. [Waves his Wand.  Friar. 
That Voice which strikes the World with awful fear,  
Loudly proclaims the Thunderer is near. [It Thunders.  
As may be known by that shrill Trumpets sound, [A Trumpet.  
The God of War approaches mortal ground.  
Those charming strains that sweetly strike the Ear,  
Persuade the Goddess of delight is there [Soft Music.  The Planets descend with Music, th' Astral Spirit crosses the Stage, followed by th' Apparitions of Henry the Third crowned, holding a Cypress branch: Navarre Crowned holding a Laurel one. Guise a Ducal Crown, a Sword drawn. Soon as they have passed the Stage, the Spheres ascend with Music. Astral Spirit. 
Let me my Furlo now obtain  
All's done, an Astral Spirit can.  Friar. 
Thou hast thy liberty; be gone  Spirit. 
I fly—  
who'd stay on Earth, when he may mount the Shy? [Ascends.  Friar. 
This from above is all we know,  
Let us now try our power below.  The Fry'r Waves his Wand. Reads, then Loud Music, th' Earthy Spirit ascends with this SONG. 
I Come from the Deeps below,  
Where Coral branches bud.  
From where the Rubies grow  
From the Rocks richest blood.  
Although in the Deeps, little darkness we know;  
The Diamond's our Sun,  
The Pearl is our Moon,  
And the rest of our jewels are stars there below.  The Earthy Spirit then clear rises, with Rebellion and Murder on each side, three Spirits on one side of the stage, and three on the other. They dance. Then the Earthy Spirit beckons, and there cross the stage these apparitions, 1. Henry the Third pale, a bloody Dagger in's hand. 2. Navarre Crowned with Laurels, a bloody Dagger in's hands. 3. Guise holding a Sword drawn, when half o'er the stage, he returns— the Spirits dance again and descend, as th'Earthy Spirit is descending- (stops at the friar's words) and Murder and Rebel. Friar. 
Stay Spirit stay— [He stays.  
— What's he who does behind remain?  Spir. 
One of the Princes of Lorraine.  Guise. 
Say, Spirit, must he wear the Crown?  Spirit. 
That unknown Voice has knocked us down. [The three Spirits, Rebel and Murder descend.  Guise. 
This Gold I give to thee, Friar.  Card. 
And this give I.  
Now for Lorraine!  Guise. 
Lorraine and Liberty. [Exeunt.  
Explicit Act. II.    


ACT. III. SCENE. I. Guise's Apartment.  Enter Guise, Pericart. Per. 
HAve you not softened yet her stubborn mind?  Guise, 
In her each day I stranger humour's find:  
Peevish as Children waked, or Matrons crazed;  
Scornful as Upstarts, that are newly raised.  Per. 
The thought, Sir, of her fate sure does you wrong.  Guise. 
If so, I will remove the cause e'er long.  
Then your Armida hinders too my Love.  Per. 
I can with ease that obstacle remove;  
For she has begged, and partly gained to be  
Conveyed to one, she thinks no friend to me;  
But is deceived, For I'm by him assured,  
During my will, she shall be there secured.  Guise. 
I like it well, and now resolve to try,  
If talk of Crowns, can dazzle Gabriel's Eye.  
And if I find those Arguments will move,  
I'll be a King only to gain her Love, [Exeunt.  Enter Gabriel, Armida. Gab. 
I'm glad thy speed and fortune were so good,  
Faster to fly those Rogues, than be pursued.  
But the chief Villain soon had me betrayed,  
If Heaven had not been pleased to send me aid.  
Just in my need, an Hero set me free;  
His Sword at once revenged and aided me.  
I kneeled him thanks. He scarce three words had spoke,  
When clashing Swords our conversation broke.  
Yet as he fought, he still looked back at me;  
Which for some time delayed his victory.  Arm. 
That Hero, Madam, if a blush speak true,  
At once both freed and captivated you.  Gab. 
I must confess, he looked me to the heart;  
And though my Life lay on't; I could not part.  
Rather than my deliverer should be slain,  
I wished myself in danger once again.  
Each man that fell my fear and grief did move;  
I thought it fear, but oh! I find it love.  Armi. 
But, Dearest Madam, what of him became?  Gab. 
He fought and vanished like the Thunderer's flame;  
When Fates (as my late wounds they would requite)  
Did bring me to the gallant Grillons sight.  
He proffered love! had not my heart been lost,  
He'd been a prize becoming Queens to boast.  
But all in vain I am betrayed to Guise;  
Lost where I love, and loved where I despise!  Armi. 
I promise freedom if you'll take advice.  Gab. 
My dear Armida, I'll be ruled by you;  
Blessed with your love, and with my freedom too. [Enter Seru.  Seru. 
Madam, the Duke of Guise has sent to know,  
If you'll vouchsafe him to attend on you?  Gab. 
He need not ask what he has power to do. [Exit Seru.  
What shall I do Armida?  Armi. 
Seem but Kind;  
It will advance the Plot I have designed.  Enter Guise, Pericart. Guise. 
Still, fairest Lady, you create your pain. Armida and Peric. go aside,  
Your Brow frowns clouds, or else your eyes weep rain.  
'Tis against Nature Storms should have a place  
In the highest Region of that heavenly face.  
O, Madam, imitate the heavens' above,  
Where only is serenity and love!  Gab. 
Your words are good, your actions are not so;  
Like Trees that only fruitless blossoms show.  
If my small Beauty's heavenly, as you say.  
You like a Lucifer, would it betray.  
By his sad fate you may your own proclaim;  
For you both lose your glory and your aim.  Guise. 
My sufferings you a Prophetess declare?  
I'm scorched with flames, and damned into despair.  Gab. 
You 've time, Sir, to repent of your offence,  
And to regain your pristine Innocence.  
Give me my freedom and you leave your crime,  
And we may both be happy at one time.  Guise. 
Make your words good, oblige yourself and me;  
And at one time too, we may both be free.  Gab. 
The first attemp, Sir, unto you belong;  
Since you are only he that offers wrong:  
Or, if in honour, you'll not yield to me,  
I'll lead the way, and here I set you free.  Guise. 
Madam, if you will make your promise true,  
You must both make me free, and happy too.  Gab. 
Your happiness and freedom both belong  
Unto yourself, and I have all the wrong.  
For with what justice can you keep me here?  
Or what's your pow 'r o'er me?  Guise. 
Ah! None I fear.  
justice and Power, with all things you can move,  
Must yield to th' pleasing violence of Love.  
My mind is bent your motions to fulfil,  
But something stronger contradicts my will,  
My Soul (above constraint) does oversway  
All those desires, and makes me disobey.  Gab. 
Remember, Sir, It is a glorious boast  
To wheel about and gain a Field that's lost.  
Relieve yourself before you be overcome;  
Knock at your breast; may be you're not at home.  Guise. 
You prophesy again: my Heart is gone;  
Here is the Airy, but the Falcons flown.  
The Haggard Soused, soon as it ' spied its Prey,  
But Cupid had laid Lime-twigs in the way.  Gab. 
Sir, to be plain, your Passions strangely move;  
You practice force, and yet pretend to Love.  
Love by restriction does its virtue want:  
As happiness was lost first by Restraint.  
Consult but sense, It should not be confined;  
Love is the Freeborn Subject of the mind;  
And when that privilege it cannot have,  
It turns a Rebel, or is made a slave.  Gab. 
To all your Argument I'm not inclined;  
My heart was free, but now, alas, confined!  
It's Birth-right's lost, yet never will rebel.  Gab. 
I'm glad you know your duty, Sir, so well.  
This doctrine fitter for the League may be,  
And you may do more good on it, than me.  Guise. 
It is below you to upbraid me so;  
For I to you will only duty owe.  Gab. 
The King claims share,  Guise. 
And he shall have his due.  
It seems by this you're most to Kings inclined,  
Because your Stars have one for you designed.  
But if such charms the very name does bring,  
Think what's the honour then to make a King.  Gab. 
I'm now a Slave such thoughts become not me.  Guise. 
If you will love a King you shall be free.  Gab. 
I love none else, and that is but his due.  Guise. 
You love a King then?  Gab. 
Yes, though it be you.  Guise. 
Vouchsafe your hand: Upon your juror look. [takes it.  
By this fair hand; and thus I kiss the Book. [kisses it.  
Next day by this time I will set you free;  
But one Oath more— [Again.  
And once again for more security. [Exeunt Guise and Pericart.  Gab. 
Thy help Armida; for the storm grows high.  Armid. 
I heard him, and my counter Plots will try.  
I have gained Pericart, and am to go  
This hour unto a Friend, whose faith I know.  
We must shift clothes, and you depart in mine;  
And so you may escape his bad design.  Gab. 
You have all thanks, that gratitude can give,  
And to requite you I must only live.  
But when the Duke returns, and misses me,  
Armida, what will then become of thee?  Armid. 
I know his Spirits fierce, but brave and true,  
And he'll respect me for regarding you.  
I'll no excuses frame, as for a crime;  
Since in his need, I'd do as much for him.  Gab. 
But, dearest Friend, why should thy love for me  
Be more adventurous, than my love for thee?  Armid. 
Madam, his Passion's like a furious wind;  
And Love's the raging tempest of the mind:  
If a fair stately Cedar stand i' th' way,  
Scorning the Winds rough courtship to obey;  
Its blustering rage will more and more abound,  
In hopes to lay the Cedar on the ground.  
But if, when he returns, the Cedar's gone,  
And he no object have to blow upon;  
He'll rage a while, but soon his fury lay,  
And he himself will blow his Storm away.  Gab. 
Thy wit has Empire in't; I'll not contest,  
I hope thy Genius guides thee for the best. [Exeunt.   

SCENE. II. The Court.  Enter Chateauneuf, Bonneval. Chaten. 
Although my Fortune's bad, it is not strange,  
Since the King's heart is so inclined to change.  
His thoughts can ne'er be fixed; you may as soon  
Cut out and fit a Vesture for the Moon.  
Inconstant winds to fewer points will vere;  
Than he to Ladies if he think 'em fair.  Bon. 
You have too tender and too quick a sense,  
Which catches at the shadows of offence.  
And yet this jealousy does plainly prove,  
You claim no small share in great Henry's love.  Chat. 
I'll either have no share, or I'll have all,  
They who love right can never lower fall.  
True Lovers all, like greatest Gamesters set,  
And will not let Bystanders have a Bet.  Bon. 
Like Men both great and rich, you have such store,  
Scarce with conveniency you can manage more;  
Yet still like them you are so greedy found,  
Envying the poor to look but on your Ground.  Chat. 
Desist my Friend; it would even patience vex;  
Custom and Nature both against our Sex!  
Nature's a Bungler not to make us strong,  
As th' other Sex to vindicate a wrong.  
To seek amends for any great abuse  
In them is Honour, impudence in us.  Enter King, Grillon. He and Bonneval aside. King. 
Madam, I'm told by Grillon, you're severe  
In your discourse, as I inconstant were  
Of what you tax me, you may guilty prove,  
And injure Truth that Confident of Love.  Chat. 
Whereshall we seek for Truth, (that injured Maid)  
Despised on Earth is to Astraea fled.  
In Cottages despised she may remain,  
For I, alas, have searched the Court in vain.  King. 
You wrong yourself, such doubtings to pursue;  
Why should not I persist in loving you?  Chat. 
Believe it, Sir, I now can plainly see,  
You share not any part of love with me.  
Else you'd the causes of my doubts perceive,  
As well as I the causes you do give.  
With what content and pride, your love I'd own?  
But I have lost it, and for one unknown.  King. 
That jealousy is rash, I daily see't;  
But ne'er before knew it so indiscreet.  
Can you believe I should my love withdraw  
From your fair eyes, for those I never saw?  
As I should leave the Sun and its known light,  
To search for greater in the womb of night.  Chat. 
Yet Fancy most inclines to what is new;  
And knowledge cannot please as hopes can do.  
When Grillon's frantic praises speaks his Prize,  
OH heavens'! what joy, what love shoots from your eyes!  
Your loose Imaginations are surprised,  
And I forfond Chimaeras am despised.  King. 
There is no hope to alter such a doubt,  
When I have made my Love so fairly out.  
Has not my Kingdom taxed me of the Crime  
Of slighting other Beauties of the Time.  
Great Criminals justly condemned to death,  
Begged a new life, and gained it in your breath.  
Honour and Riches (which the World beguile  
From Heaven itself) were purchased with your smile.  
What then can more be said, My Love t' advance?  
You, Madam, govern him, who governs France.  Chat. 
To what we wish how easily we incline?  
My doubts disperse, and joys begin to shine.  
I am content; so you'll ha' Promise make—  
You'll not my Love, for this Unknown, forsake.  
And when she's found (though you must her prefer)  
Yet you will look on me as much as her.  
And though you cannot Love me half so well,  
I'll not believe it, so you do not tell.—  
I'd rather have you Murder me this Night,  
Then let me live to morrow for a slight.  King. 
Thy merit and thy beauty thou mayst trust,  
Whilst I am wise, or generous, or just: [Exit. Chat.  
Grillon about your charge, but first command [Turning to him.  
Larchant to wait me here.  Gril. 
I'm now unchained. Gets from Bonneval. She follows and said.  Bon. 
You vowed to talk a day with me.  Gril. 
'Tis right;  
And so I will, but now it is almost night. [Ext. Gril. and Bon.  Enter Larchant. King. 
Larchant how hast thou sped!  Larch. 
As I desired:  
No sooner come; for Grillon she enquired;  
My proffered service took, and thanked me for't;  
By which pretence I got her to the Court.  King. 
How is her Beauty?  Larch. 
O, Sir, so refined  
It dazzles th' Eye and strikes the ravished mind.  
All o'er warm Crystal, Sir, with Sun beams lined  
Struggling for ease th' imprisoned splendour lies,  
And breaks the jail through th' Windows of her Eyes.  King. 
I long to see this Wonder. Now hold proof,  
Distracted Heart, and hold fast Chateauneuf. [Exeunt.   

SCENE. III. Guise's Lodgings.  Enter Guise, Cardinal, Pericart. Guise. 
THis devilish Fry'r with his strange Scenes of fate  
Has much confused my thoughts and present State.  
Of Blood and Honour, who would hazard run,  
To do what must now in few days be done?  
Let us lie close upon our Guard and wait  
The timely ripening of approaching fate.  
I know I'm not by Heaven designed to do't,  
Since here is something that dissuades me froed. [Points to's breast.  Card. 
Rather 'tis your ill Genius, makes you shun  
That glory, which by others may be won.  
As some brave Man that stands upon the Shore,  
By Crowns and Honour doubly tempted o'er,  
Leaps boldly in; not fearful in the least,  
And cuts the Billows with exalted breast;  
Should he turn back and his attempt give o'er,  
When he had almost reached the wished-for Shore,  
He'd sink unpitied.—  Guise. 
The King's late promises to us are great.  Card. 
But to stop now, is worse than to retreat.  
Why came you hither, if you meant to stay?  
The Crown's at th' end, not in the midst o'th' way.  
When Subjects once by Kings suspected are,  
There is not any thing but they may fear.  
What Pepin (our great Ancestor) did do  
To Chilperick, do you to Harry so.  
who'd not observe a Precedent so fair,  
To shave his Head, both of his Crown and Hair?  
Delay not.—  Guise. 
Why? Delays pull on their fate;  
Navarre by Rome is excommunicate;  
All his Estates are to the Conqueror given  
By th' Pope, whose power (they say) is derived from Heaven.  Card. 
If so, or no; let's leave it to the Schools.  
Or to the tender Consciences of Fools.  
Derive it whence he will, it has my Vote,  
If it the ends of our designs promote  Per. 
Now you are made, Sir, General of France.  
And Duke de Main, your Brother, can advance  
That Army, which for Dauphin was designed;  
And Paris with your interest is combined,  
Sixteen Great Cities more your Party own;  
And you, Sir, Legat of Avignion:  
Whilst thus secured, what need you doubt or fear?  Guise. 
I am resolved the Assembly now to dare,  
And make 'em utterly exclude Navar.  Car. 
Yield not in your demands, nor reason show?  
For any thing, but that you'll have it so.  
Show now your strength, and carry such a hand,  
That though you be not King, you may command.  Guise. 
I have enough, were I to rest inclined;  
Great is my fortune, greater is my mind.  
My place in France, nay in the World is great,  
Yet despicable in my own conceit.  
To rise still higher seems but as a fall,  
Till I be gazed on, at the Top of all.  
There could I sit with a contented brow,  
And nod down life and death to all below.  Car. 
All but the Minions and Court-party signed  
Our League as soon as offered.  Per. 
I've inclined  
Most of the Guards.  Car. 
This very night let's seize upon the Court,  
And then as things appear, ourselves deport.  
We'll take the King as easily from hence  
To Paris, as of late we drove him thence.  Guise. 
The Pope this flaming Sword to me has given;  
The Second flaming Sword e'er sent from Heaven! [Draws it.  
The Ghost of Heresy before it flies,  
As shadows vanish at the morning's rise;  
With this I'll guard the Gallic Paradise. [Exeunt.   

SCENE IU. The Court.  Enter King, Guessle, Revol, Larchant, Grillon. Gues. 
In the Broad-Street, that on the Northside lies  
Of the Great Church, I met the Duke of Guise.  
He looked upon me with a fierce disdain,  
His Guards were numerous, numerous his Train.  
I thought h'had gone to Church, but he passed by;  
It seems his business does not that way lie.  Rev. 
Most part o' th'night until the rising Sun,  
The Cardinal from house to house has gone;  
The leading persons they have made their own.  King. 
You look on Kings, as Gods, who can bestow  
Happiness on themselves, and others too.  
Cares and suspicions but disturb our breast,  
We're unacquainted with the sweets of rest.  
'Tis true we shine in glory, and dispense  
Too oft t' unthankful men our influence;  
Who like ingrateful Fogs infest those Skies,  
And cloud that Sun to whom they owe their rise.  Gril. 
Dispel those Fogs, and you will find all fair;  
But thunder, Sir, and it will clear the air.  King. 
jove in his hottest fury never throws  
His Thunderbolts at once amongst his Foes.  
He stays his time, but then he lays on load:  
Rage, to no purpose, ill beseems a God.  
When Men are fit for judgement then's the time;  
And Punishment is best when't meets the crime.  Revol. 
Letters from Paris say they idolise,  
As Demigods, all of the House of Guise.  
The Pulpits are State-Beacons, wherein Flame  
No other Boutefeus', than Guise's name.  Gues. 
France, like a Feverish body, may be said,  
Wasting with heats, which in itself are bred.  King. 
'Tis sent me here the Guises still prepare  
Pernicious Plots, which now in hatching are.  
The Actors and contrivance are set down,  
Their aim is high, both at my Life and Crown.  Lar. 
Twenty o'th' Guards last night corrupted were  
To seize, Sir, you, and all your Servants here.  King. 
Is it then so? we must prevention try;  
All the means left for our security.  
I have been slow and stayed so long a time,  
To see if they'd repent 'em of their Crime.  
And may be had stayed longer yet to try,  
If France was not concerned as much as I:  
But France and I must fall, or they must die.  Gues. 
All generous Frenchmen must conclude the same,  
Who either love their Country, or their fame.  
The Members, by the rule of Nature led,  
Fence every blow, that's offered at the Head.  Rev. 
Sick States, like sickly Bodies, must be freed  
From those ill humours which Distempers breed.  
Purging and blooding must be used, 'tis best  
To bleed some ounces, to preserve the rest.  Gril. 
What a strange change now in myself I find.  
My raging storm is laid, calm is my mind.  
— Before—  
Whilst Guise's greatness did so dreadful seem,  
O Heavens! How did I long to cope with him.  
But now that he must fall, I've changed my heart,  
And would give Millions I could take his part.  
His ruinous fate (although most just) does move  
Me unto pity, almost unto Love.  
O! that a Man so brave, so nobly born,  
should now become the Vulgar prate and scorn!  
I at his punishment cannot repine;  
— But that his foul design  
Should doom him to another sword than mine.  King. 
Grillon, thou art deceived, his Head's too high  
To stoop t'a Block: we have no time to try  
The forms of justice: Death is in delay;  
Grillon, thy King or Guise must die to day.  
Mine and thy Country's fafety's in thy hand;  
Thy Faith and Courage needs no more command.  Gril. 
May that blunt honesty to which I'm born  
Hope pardon?  King. 
Grillon, I.  Gril. 
Then, Sir, I scorn  
To do but what a Man of Honour should:  
In Battles I have lost and drawn some blood;  
But that was for my Country's honour done;  
And then in Duels I consult my own.  
But here, Sir, to be plain, I scorn, I hate  
To be an Executioner of State:  
For whilst I kill a Man condemned to die,  
I obey, but am a Hangman by the by.  King. 
Is this obedience?  Gril, 
Sir, if I obey  
My Kings Commands in an ignoble way,  
I am a Traitor to his Fame.  King. 
'Tis true;  
But who's the judge of Honour, I or you?  Gril. 
You are its Fountain, Sir, it is confessed,  
But the true judge is every Brave man's breast.  
Let me give warning and denounce the War,  
Midst all his Guards, I'll mine own Challenge bear;  
And when that's done, I'll fight, I'll kill him there.  King. 
Well I shall find some help; or Heaven will own,  
My Quarrel, and send aids of Thunder down.  
My Brother of Navarre by this does know  
From Plessis, what is fit for him to do.  
My Scouts have brought me word he is in view;  
Were he but here, I had no need of you.  Gril. 
You have no Subject dares to more than I,  
In Courage, Honour, or in Loyalty:  
But yet of Virtue I have such a sense,  
In baseness he may have pre-eminence.  
And yet, I think, his soul is so sublime,  
That he would scorn the shadow of a crime;  
And if he scorned not this, I should scorn him.  
But when your Grillon, Sir, for you or France,  
Dares not as far as Man did e'er advance.  
When on Command, Sir, he denies to run  
And clap his breast against a teeming Gun.  
Or in your service, when he does decline  
To venture boldly on a springing Mine:  
Then think his Honour mastered by his fear,  
And call him Coward in the bus'ness here.  King. 
Thou hast a boisterous, but a gallant Soul,  
Which neither fear nor flattery can control.  
Go, head the Guards till I new Orders send.  
Larchant, see you prepare what I intent. [Exeunt omnes praet. Gril.  As Grillon is going, Guise and Cardinal meet him. Guise. 
Grillon, in honour thou canst not deny  
My fair request; Art thou my Enemy?  
I hear there's 'gainst my life a combined Vow.  Gril. 
I was your Enemy, but am not now.  
I scorn advantage, and a weaker Foe  
Cannot be safer, than because he's so.  Guise. 
I must believe it and thy Friendship prize;  
Thou 'rt brave and honest.  Gril. 
Take then my advice:  
If you have any crime own it betimes;  
Great Men need fear no Enemies but Crimes.  Guise. 
From any Crimes, that have offended Heaven,  
I need its Mercy to have them forgiven.  
But as for any unto others done,  
I scorn all Pardons. [Exeunt severally.  Scene changes to the Guard Chamber; Larchant and the Guard, Guise and Cardinal to 'em. 
My Lords, where is the King?  Gues. 
Within, Sir, there.  Guise. 
Larchant, make way.  Larch. 
You must not enter here.  Guise. 
Must not?  Larch. 
No, Sir, not till the King have done  
Sending dispatches, which he will have soon.  Card. 
Most brave! When Heretics and Minions may  
Enter the Cabinet and we two stay.  Enter Revol. Rev. 
The King, Sir, did not your attendance know,  
Please to walk in.  Larch. 
Here, Sir, you must not go. [Stops him.  Car. 
Not go?  Lar. 
Not this way, Sir, but that you may;  
These Lords will wait on you.  Car. 
Then lead the way. [Exeunt omnes.  Clashing of weapons within: Then enter Guise and six armed Guards, fight. Guise. 
Perfidious Dogs! my Courage though assures,  
Guise cannot fall by such base hands as yours.  
Two Rascal lives makes not the purchase good Two fall. Guise bleeds.  
For one small drop of Charlemain's rich blood.  
These Cowards, like the Hydra's Heads increase; Enter more and fight Gu. he bleeds  
And I Stand yet the Gallic Hercules.  
Stand whilst I geet some breath, ye Murderers stand,  
Observe! I do not beg it, I command. [Gives them a point.  
That Crowned Assassin tell, who set you on,  
This Act has but performed what I'dhave done;  
It has unkinged him, and the Crime's his own.  
I conquer dying; murdered, not overcome: [Leans on's Sword.  
Laurels not Cypress must o'er spread my Tomb,  
Ten of his armed Guards were not enough;  
Had I been armed, you all had been too few.  
Although I murdered am the way's not mean; [Faints.  
A King my Murderer, and his Court the Scene.  
Bid Valois boast the acts of all his Race,  
To whet his Courage; yet to his disgrace  
He durst not look me dying in the face. [Falls and dies.  Larch. 
Those angry groans, he at his farewell sends,  
Are like fierce blasts just when a Tempest ends,  
His blood his restless Spirits now has laid;  
As blust'ring Storms by falling Showers are laid:  
So lion's when their raging fury's gone,  
Fly to the darkest shades and there lie down.  
Convey this Body hence. [Enter Revol.  Rev. 
Which are the two. [Two of them steps out. He shows the Order.  
Here is your Order what you are to do:  
All else be gone. The Cardinal of Guise  
Instead of begging Pardon, does despise.  
Speaks dangerous words against both King and State,  
Which hastens and deserves this timeless fate. [Exeunt.  Guards bring in the Cardinal and leave him. The other two Enter with Swords drawn, He Eyes 'em seriously, and steps towards 'em. Card. 
I do not like their looks! Their words I'll try. [Aside.  
What come you for?  1 Sould. 
To tell you, you must die.  Card. 
And so must you. Nay (what is more) be damned,  
If you perform what you have taken in hand.  2 Sould. 
It is not our Profession to dispute:  
The King commands us, Sir, and we must do't.  Card. 
What power has he o'er me? Or whence does't come?  
We're free from Kings when we depend on Rome.  
When Kings presume to do what is not fit,  
Pope's Subjects can from their Allegiance quit.  
Should he command, you should your faith deny?  
Or bid you spit defiance at the sky,  
Would you obey?  
Lucifer struck at Heaven, your Crime's the same;  
And you'll be damned to full as hot a flame.  1 Sould. 
I will not do't.—  Card. 
A gracious pardon, thou shalt have from Rome,  
For all offences past, and all to come. [Exit. I Soldier.  
Friend, what sayst thou?  2 Sould. 
Troth, Sir, I'd lend an Ear,  
If for yourself, you could find Pardon here.  
But such fantastic hopes I dare not try;  
Besides I'm hired to do't.—  Card. 
Then I must die—  
A mercenary Soul is fit to do  
All crimes the Devil ever tempted to.  
'Tis known that Power which Heaven and Earth obey,  
Aslave (like thee) did for a bribe betray. [Soldier kills him.  [Scene closes. 
Explicit Act. III.    


ACT. IV. SCENE. I. Camp at St. Clou before Paris.  Enter King, Guesile, Revol, Larchant, Commanders, Guards. King. 
HEre at St. Clou we'll streiten so the Town,  
'T will either famished be, or yielded soon.  
Our forces joined, we will not wait the time,  
But let our fury loose to meet their crime.  Rev. 
Sir, I was much amazed, and well might be,  
To hear their insolence and treachery.  Gues. 
There's nothing can more stubbornness reveal  
Than foul Rebellion, varnished o'er with zeal.  Larch. 
who'd think that Paris should be thus suborned  
By Traitors, with your Trophies so adorned?  Rev. 
Perhaps they will obedient prove and wise,  
And take the favour, Sir, of your advice.  King. 
To hope a Remedy must needs be vain,  
Whilst her ill humours are kept up by Main.  
Seditions, like great Torrents, rise and fall  
According to the Brooks, they're fed withal  Enter a Commander hastily. 
What news with thee? What brings thee from thy Post?  I Com. 
We're beaten from it, Sir, and all is lost.  
I kept the Guard against Saint Michel's gate,  
The most suspicious place to sally at:  
When soon Aumale made that suspicion good,  
And sallied briskly which whilst we withstood,  
Du Mayns whole Army fell into our Rear,  
Routs us and now puts all the Camp in fear.  Rev. 
We are betrayed! The Scouts else had not failed.  King. 
King's should assail, but never be assailed. [Draws his Sword.  All draw, as going out met with Officers. 2 Com. 
Fresh Squadrons compass us, and we are lost  3 Com. 
A chosen Troop comes to attack this Post.  Gues. 
Then we are dead!  King. 
But we will bravely die.  
O that I had an equal Enemy!  
My Sword then would not blush in such base Stains,  
But boast the Scarlet of a Duke of Mayns.  All marching out. Grillon meets 'em with Guards. Gril. 
All dangers past. The Enemy is beat:  
Who into Paris though made his retreat.  King. 
Success attends thy Sword, and all must fly  
When Grillon fights.  Gril. 
Death, Sir, It was not I!  
O'er pow'red by Numbers, which I scorned to shun,  
I vainly strove, when by a hand unknown  
They routed were, and Grillon quite outdone.  
I would have sooner died, nay rather fled,  
Then once have seemed, as though I stood in need.  Enter Navarre with Mayns Banner and Soldiers. Nau. 
This Signal of my Service, as my due  
To Majesty, I here, Sir, offer you,  King. 
Brave Conqueror! I embrace thee; Come more nigh. [Embraces,  
I owe my Life to thee.  Gril. 
And so do I.  
I would not say't, but Grillon cannot lie.  King. 
Put up thy Cask, and let thyself appear. [Puts it up.  
Blessed fate! It is my Brother of Navar. [Embraces him.  
You and my joys at once from me were torn,  
As now with you, I hope, they will return.  
When they first gained that mastery by their art,  
They banished you the Court, themselves my Heart.  Nau. 
These gracious words, Sir, all my deeds outdo,  
Although I can perform as much as you.  
For their own sakes, I wish they had been free  
From those offences, they imposed on me.  King. 
You heard their Plots then?  Bless. 
Sir, I all declared  
Both what I had in charge, and what I heard.  Nau. 
I heard it all, Sir, and in doubts am lost.  
Which was your danger, or your patience most.  
So long to stay, seemed Heaven to tempt, or dare;  
And yet if you had sooner been severe,  
That had seemed cruelty, which was but care.  
But though the Guise's fall secure the State;  
I yet regret their loss and mourn their fate.  
For had they grateful been, as Heaven was kind,  
And not depraved th' endowments of the mind;  
They had deserved whatever they desired,  
Although their haughty Souls to Crowns aspired.  King, 
Sir, their Ambition, on a false pretence,  
Deluded both their reason, and their sense.  
As oft we see heaven's self is pleased to blind  
Their judgements, who to ruin are designed.  
Like Conjurers deceived, they stood amazed,  
And perished by that storm themselves had raised.  Rev. 
Those Comets, though they blazed away their flame,  
Left Plagues t'infest the place from whence they came.  Gues. 
Their Treason like Infection flies about,  
And where an object's fit, soon finds it out.  King. 
Grillon is sad.  Gril. 
And must be, till I give  
A greater favour, than I did receive.  
I have a Courage, that disdains to be  
Conquered, although it be with Courtesy.  Nau. 
Dost thou my Duty and success disdain?  King. 
Thy humour is ingrateful now, as vain.  Gril. 
No greater joy can e'er possess my mind,  
Then to see you, Sir, and my Master joined.  
France now like ancient Rome may boast her fate,  
Since Fabius and Marcellus guard her State.  King. 
Slow are the English aids that we expect.  Nau. 
Necessity's the cause, and not neglect.  Gues. 
Th' invincible Armada makes 'em slow.  Nau. 
Farewell the Navy, and the Title too.  King. 
Speak what you heard.  Nau. 
The very night before  
I marched, this Captain from the Governor [Points to him,  
of Calais, brought account of all was done.  King. 
I long to hear't.  Nau. 
Speak what to you is known. [T'th ' Captain.  Cap. 
The Navy Neptune's shoulders did oppress,  
As much too bulky for those narrow Seas.  
This monster vast (with hundred wings supplied,  
Whose stretcht-out Horns were more than two leagues wide.)  
Sailed to the English with a motion slow,  
For its great weight oppressed Old AEclus so,  
He and his winds had scarcely breath to blow.  
When th' English (valianter perchance than wise)  
Bravely defied 'em scorning a surprise.  
But a Defiance that their rage became;  
Whose words were Bullets, and whose breath was flame.  
seven days thus bravely they the Spaniard dared;  
Nothing but Lightning seen, and Thunder heard.  
It seemed the end o'th' World, for all was fire;  
And in that faith the Spaniard did expire.  King. 
The bravery of these English are so great,  
It is no shame that us so oft they beat.  
The Gallic bravery and Spanish pride  
Being conquered, they may conquer all beside.  Nau. 
That British Heroine, without control,  
Asserts the truth, no Sex is in the soul.  
Valiant and wise as Pallas does appear;  
A Goddess armed with beauty and a Spear.  King. 
Declare the last fate of the Spanish Fleet.  Cap. 
Near to your Calais, Sir, it made retreat;  
But 'scap'd not so, just in the dead of night  
The Spaniards saw a strange and dreadful sight:  
Eight moving Fires upon the sea did glide,  
And came upon 'em both with wind and Tide.  
Some thought 'em Fire-Drakes, for one Drake they knew,  
And by him guest what eight such Drakes might do.  
Others supposed the Fates, t' attend their fall,  
Had lighted Torches for their Funeral.  
Tumult and fear in each ship did begin;  
Great danger! Whilst the Tempest was within.  
Each ship endeavouring not to stay behind,  
Fled on the Wings of fear and of the Wind.  
The shattered Fleet like moulting Eagles fled,  
And lost some Feathers at each flight she made.  
France, Scotland, Ireland, Flanders, Holland boasts  
The several Ships surprised upon their Coasts.  
The British Lions glutted, took their rests,  
Vouchsasing Offals to the lesser Beasts.  Nau. 
Thus in a word th' effects of seven years' cost,  
By English valour in seven days were lost.  King. 
The World shall never, nor has ever seen  
A braver Nation, or a braver Queen.  
Her Neighbours justly may receive her Law.  
Since she rules those who keep the World in awe.  
But let us leave the noise of these Alarms;  
'Tis fit even sometimes to repose from Arms.  
Within the Walks we may releasements find.  Nau. 
But where, O where, Sir, for a Captived mind?  King. 
If Beauty can avail, I'll show you those  
Shall do't.  Nau. 
But they may prove more dangerous foes.  
Yet guided, Sir, by you; I Venus dare,  
Tho in her threatning Beauties she appear,  
Nay though she bring along the God of War. [Exeuni.   

SCENE. II. A Garden, with Arbours and Walks.  Enter Chateauneuf, Bonneval. Bon. 
ALl mankind's false; there's none can keep a vow.  
The King is full as false as Grillon now:  
I am unwilling to disturb your rest—  
But, Madam, he's unworthy of your breast.  Chat. 
That's no news Bonneval. But whence this change?  Bon. 
Dear Chateauneuf his Soul is still so strange,  
He does—  
Like wanton Boys after vain shadows range.  Chat. 
His empty hopes of shadows will not last;  
When he pursues 'em, they will fly as fast.  Bon. 
But first the substance may create a fear,  
And she this very hour is to be here.  
Her by some chance the Duke of Guise did gain;  
Wh' escaped that fatal day, when he was slain.  
Betrayed to Larchant, he the King possessed  
With such vain thoughts, that kept him since from rest.  
This is the Beauty, that has wronged us so.  Chat. 
Bonneval, from these walks we will not go;  
Let's stay and make discoveries of the Foe. [Exeunt.  Enter King, Larchant. King. 
Now, Larchant, now my thoughts have room to move:  
Streitened with business, now I turn to Love.  
Hast thou with thy great beauty so prevailed  
To come from Blois?  Lar. 
I could not do't. But, Sir,  
I have presumed to send a Guard for her.  King. 
Thou hast done well.  Lar. 
But what does most surprise;  
That Pericart (late Secretary to Guise)  
Tells me the Lady, sent for now by me,  
Is that rare Beauty Gabriel de Estree:  
Ten times more beautiful than this we have;  
And how 'tis her that Grillon did enslave.  King. 
More beautiful than her thou praised to me.  Lar. 
She's more than any Angel, if she be.  King. 
Her I'll see first. Wait 'til she do appear.  Lar. 
Sir, by this time I know she's very near. [Exit.  Enter Grillon. King. 
Grillon, thy Clouds yet on thy Brows do dwell.  Gril. 
I want my Sun that else would them dispel.  
I wish a tempest do not threaten France,  
Since clouds appear in every countenance;  
Mistrustful whispers and suspicious Eyes:  
So storms oft follow hushed and gloomy skies.  King. 
I knew a time when court and Courtiers vied  
With pleasant May in all her chequered, pride.  
An universal joy then filled each place,  
And blessed content did smile in every face.  
Each bosom then like Crystal did appear,  
And all our very thoughts transparent were.  
Friendship and love enjoyed a happy reign;  
Friends banished doubts, as Ladies did disdain.  Gril. 
But now, as they some battle would decide,  
They into Parties severally divide:  
A certain sign of Faction and of hate,  
Those growing Cankers of a falling State.  
But better things, I hope, Sir, from your fate.  King. 
Let State alone, and let us talk of Love.  Gril. 
I cannot Sir,  King. 
Thy constancy I'll prove.  
Thy Mistress, Grillon, was to Guise betrayed,  
And ever since at his apartment stayed.  
Larchant is sent for her.  Gril. 
Your pardon, Sir.  
Death, I will kill him if he look at her.  
She is not safe with him, nor fit to be  
Under his Guard.  King. 
And yet he serves for me.  Gril. 
True, Sir, for Kings are armed with sacred awe;  
Besides they are guarded by that Giant Law.  
And though you all keep Guards, yet Wisemen grant  
You have 'em more for Pomp than any want.  King. 
Well Grillon, go, you're in Commission joined;  
Conduct her whither Larchant was assigned. [Exit Grillon.  
He waits without. How Chateauneuf!  Enter Chateauneuf, Bonneval. Chat. 
Your heart  
Would be no Present if you give but part.  
That little share I had, I here resign,  
But ah, no part of it was ever mine!  King. 
Say not so, Chateneuf, it is all thine,  Chat. 
It may be so till Larchant brings his Prize,  
But than it soon, Sir, to another flies,  
Like wanton Children taken with new toys,  
You have left certain for uncertain joys.  Enter Larchant and Armida. The King to her. King. 
If I was bold because for you I sent;  
Madam, I hope, you'll pardon the intent:  
I was uneasy till I set you free.  Armi. 
I must esteem, Sir, my Captivity,  
Which has obtained the glory of your aid.  King. 
King's may be proud to serve so fair a Maid.  
Did you meet Grillon, Larchant?  Lar. 
Sir not we,  
I wonder what's the cause he seeks for me.  
H' inquires of every one that passes by,  
hastes in his steps, and fury in his Eye.  Enter Grillon speaking. Gril. 
What e'er I seek of late I cannot find.  
I or my Fortune, one o' th' two is blind.  
Death was there no man to affront but I? [to Larchant.  
I will not kill thee tho, whilst he is by. [Points at the King.  
How like you, Sir, my choice? you'll take my Word to the King  
Henceforth about a Face, as 'bout a Sword.  King. 
Grillon, she looks as though she knew you not.  Gril. 
Pray mind, Madam, is Grillon then forgot? [to Armida.  Armi. 
What mean you Sir?  Gril. 
Death, Madam, who are you?  
You are a Stranger.  Armi. 
So are you, Sir, too.  
You're all mistaken in the Duke of Guise;  
I was not aimed at 'twas a Nobler Prize.  
Sir, if you please, the Secret I'll impart, To the King. They aside.  
And tell you where that Duke bestowed his heart.  Bon. 
Madam, the clouds from both our hearts are cleared  Chat. 
The Foe's not half so dreadful as we feared.  Bon. 
You need no more be jealous, than the Sun  
When some pert Star intrudes its self at Noon.  King leaves Armida and sends Larchant to her they discourse. King. 
Madam I neither have, nor will give proof Here Gril. also & Bon. aside. he soon leaves.  
Of jealousy to Beauteous Chateauneus.  Chat. 
Great beauties only jealousy should raise,  
Such beauties as our very Sex must praise.  
But when false Lovers to inferiors fly;  
Disdains more proper far than jealousy.  Gril. 
Larchant thy hand again, thou hast my heart.  
'T was a mistake made my resentments tart. [they shake hands.  
With the revengeful World in this I'm even,  
I seldom Pardons ask, as they are given.  King. 
Grillon since this Lady you declare  
You've no concern at all, Pray leave us here.  
Larchant with speed let me my mind obtain. Exeunt Grillon and Larchant.  
For I'll stay here, until you come again.  
Madam, this Lady merits her advance Shows Chateauneuf to Armida.  
To my esteem as unto those of France.  Armid. 
She both deserves.  Chat. 
Madam, if that be true,  
There more justly own them as your due.  Ling. 
Dear Chateneuf, may I a Song obtain.  
It is a favour that I beg to gain.  Chat. 
You may command, and best of all can tell,  
That I sing true, although I sing not well.  

SONG.  

WIth amorous wiles and perjured eyes  
False Damon did me move,  
Like Charming Winds his kindling sighs  
First fanned me into Love.  
Mythriving Passion he did feed,  
Whilst it was young and slight,  
But ah! when there was greatest need,  
Alas he starves it quite!   

Was ever more injustice known,  
O Damon, prithee say;  
To fit my heart for thee alone,  
And cast it now away.  
Henceforth my Passion I shall hate.  
'Cause it gained none for me;  
Yet love it too (such is my fate)  
Because it was for thee.   

Thy Heart I never will upbraid,  
Although it mine did kill,  
Ah! Think upon an injured Maid  
That's forced to Love thee still.  
But justice may the Tables turn  
In vindicating me;  
And thou with equal torments burn  
For one who Loves net Thee.    Enter Larchant handing in Gabriel. Larch. 
Behold, Sir, more than all your France can boast.  King. 
A Beauty wherein Nature spared no cost.  
No Mortal sure!  Gab. 
Sir, your poor subject born.  King. 
Fair, sweet and fresher than a Summer's morn. [Salutes her.  
Has France such treasures in't? Let haughty Spain  
Ne'er boast her Quarries, nor her Mines again.  Gab. 
Great Princes, Sir, sometimes low subjects raise;  
As you are pleased to lift me up with praise.  
It speaks your power, and humours your great mind,  
To show what you can do, when you're inclined.  King. 
Let not my sudden Love make it seem less,  
Because the greatest things have their increase.  
Perfection, Madam (and that's only you)  
Can free a heart at first, and keep it true.  Gab. 
Loves at first sight, like inflamed follies are;  
Seem like to Stars i'th' Sky, but fix not there.  King. 
If in this cruelty you still proceed,  
You'll make my Love a Meteor then indeed:  
They threaten misery to all beneath,  
And seldom blaze, but 'gainst a Prince's death.  
O Chateauneuf, thy goodness I must try;  
I either must inconstant prove, or die.  Chat. 
Your change instead of blame has my applause,  
Since now inconstant for so good a Cause.  
Your pardon, Sir, I am inconstant too,  
And now will change my Love, as well as you.  
Heaven is my choice, who would for Lovers care,  
When Kings inconstant, or else mortal are?  
Come, Bonneval, associate of my Vow.  Bon. 
Madam, I never thought of this till now.  
I'll wait upon you tho, till I be fit;  
When that will be, Heaven knows, but 'tis not yet.  Chat. 
Come, Bonneval, let's from the Court retire,  
Where satisfaction never meets desire;  
Where raging Passions all our Souls distress,  
Searching for pleasures that can never please;  
Where one of those great Torments always move,  
Either to be beloved, or else to Love. [Exeunt. Chat. and Bon.  Gab. 
Your pardon, Sir, have I my freedom here?  King. 
Free as your thoughts.  Gab. 
Then, Sir, I must declare—  
My Love is tender conscienced, as I am,  
And ne'er will enter on another's claim.  
Whilst there are Free-Estates enough to buy,  
I'll ne'er ha' controverted Title try;  
Nor build on others ruins.  King. 
yet 'tis known,—  
Rome (that the Empire of the World did own)  
From others less Estates its own did raise.  Gab. 
But must success legitimate our praise?  
Then Caesar, Sir, may be accounted just,  
Wh' enslaved that Rome to Tyranny and Lust.  King. 
Madam, that way my Love shall ne'er proceed:  
Rather than raise your blush, my heart shall bleed.  Gab. 
I see my safety through your virtue shine;  
Your honour is security for mine.  King. 
Madam, to gain the honour of your Love,  
By services and Prayers I'll only move:  
And those obtain all blessings from above. [Exeunt. King, Larchant.  Gab. 
My better half! I have not thee embraced. [Embraces.  Arm. 
Our miseries, I hope, are well near passed.  
Thoughts of your fate (methinks) a doubt does bring,  
Whether your Stars or beauty gained the King.  Gab. 
You have forgot. He must my State advance,  
Who is not now, but shall be King of France.  
But this crowned Man, or that shall never move  
My faithful Passion, from my unknown Love.  
He has left one here so lawfully possessed,  
Will grant admittance to no other Guest.  
I'm all inflamed and scorched so with desire,  
I have not fuel for another fire.  Arm. 
Madam, some happy turn you now must have;  
For when Heaven did you from that Ruin save,  
It vouched a future blessing: Thus when night  
Is past, we may expect the morning light.  Gab. 
Come, let us walk, and some close Arbour find  
And thou shalt hear some workings of my mind;  
A Song I made, for my sad fate designed. [Exeunt.  Enter Navar. Nau. 
Thy Conquest, Love, how far wilt thou pursue?  
What wilt thou triumph o'er my ruins too;  
Is't not enough to stormand take the Town,  
Nay plunder too, but thou wilt burn it down?  
Cupid before ne'er showed such powerful charms,  
To fix his Trophies in the midst of Arms.  
Courage and Glory claimed in me a part,  
Yet He outrivalled both and won my heart.  
'Midst Swords and Death he at his Prey did fly,  
And seized on't in the face of Victory.  
But though I may be of my Conqueror proud,  
Yet I, Ixion like, still court a Cloud.  Enter Grillon, Navarre not seeing him. 
I Love I know not whom; my Love is blind,  
And seeks about for one it cannot find.  Gril. 
We're both bewitched then, for 'tis my fate too;  
And I am, Sir, as much to seek as you.  Nau. 
I'th' Wood at Blois, where thou didst take my part,  
I got the Victory, but lost my heart  Gril. 
Death, Sir, and so did I.  Nau. 
Her I adore  
Deserved all admiration.  Gril. 
Mine did more.  Nau. 
Her beauty did above all others shine;  
She was some Angel.  Gril. 
So I doubt was mine.  
For she is flown from Earth.  Nau. 
So is mine too.—  
Let's make strict search.—  Gril. 
Sir, I will wait on you.  
'T would be a plaguy Spite tho, when all's known,  
If both these beauties, Sir, should prove but one.  They hear the tuning of a voice, and Essays at a Tune. Navarre steals out towards the Arbour. Gril. steps and lissens to this— SONG by Gabril unseen. 

LOve shot himself into my breast like flame;  
And soon as ever there he came,  
My heart was all in fire:  
Nothing so scorching as Desire!  
Yet in those flames I fry:  
And though I every minute try,  
I cannot, cannot, oh! I cannot die!   

Like Love I'm blind, stark blind, although I see;  
No object fits my Eyes but Herald  
I had him once in view;  
When like departing breath he flew.  
Each night I wishing lie,  
Wasting my soul in every Sigh;  
Yet cannot, cannot, oh! I cannot die!   

My Soul can never from my Body part,  
'Til I find him who has my heart.  
When I that blessing spy,  
O I betwixt his Arms could die!  
But till I be possessed  
Of joys that now are only guest,  
I cannot, cannot, oh! I cannot rest!   Gril. 
My Ears are now bewitched as were my Eyes;  
And I must love that beauty, and this voice.  
Suppose they should be parted! I'd be loath  
To have but one of them; Faith, I'll have both. [Exit.  Enter Gabriel and Armida. Navarre follows and stops Gabriel. Nau. 
O! Madam, I upon my knees implore,  
That you would let me look a little more;  
I ne'er to any purpose looked before  Enter Grillon. Gab. 
Your Eyes were ill employed then.  Gril. 
Death, 'tis true;  
This is the Voice, and this the Beauty too.  
Where have those Eyes been hid, or where have mi●●  
That all this time I could not see 'em shine?  Armi. 
You love her voice, you loved her Eyes before.  Gril. 
I love her voice, her Eyes, I love all o'er.  
Was not my judgement right, Sir, this is she!  Nau. 
ay, Grillon, nay the world must rival thee.  
Madam I've seen you.  Gab. 
Bless me! who are you. She fairts in Armid. `sa ms.  
I am not well— Methinks I've seen you too.  Nau. 
O for some Cordials! Grillon, run, nay fly.  Gril. 
You're younger, Sir, and nimbler far than I:  
I'm slow; and e'er I come, Sir, she may die.  Nau. 
Madam look up, a King upon his knee  
Begs you would live. Kneels on one side of her.  Gril. 
But Madam live for me. [He on the other.  Gab. 
Your Pardon, Sir, this Posture does surprise. comes to herself.  Nau. 
Are you well Madam?  Gab. 
Yes, Sir, if you rise [She takes him up, he holds her hand.  Gril. 
Your pardon, Sir: though I did freedom give  
Whilst she was dead, I must not if she live. [he takes th' other.  Nau. 
Forfeit not my respects; for, Grillon, know  
There is some difference 'twixt me and you.  Gril. 
Although I want a Crown that glittering thing,  
Yet I can love as much as can a King.  Gab. 
A King! I am amazed at what I hear!  
Who are you, Sir?  Nau. 
Madam, I am Navar.  Gab. 
Both you and I should greater reverence bring. [too Gril.  Gril. 
Death! 'tis not my fault that I am no King.  Nau. 
But 'tis your fault that one no more you know.  Gab. 
And, Grillon, one that may be King o'er you.  Gril. 
When that time comes, I'll give him what is due.  
I'll keep up mine, and yet respect his height;  
And not be baffled though I must not fight.  Nau. 
There are enough your Valour, Sir, to try:  
Du Mayn's a fitter match for you, than I.  
Honour and duty should your Actions move;  
Your duty is to fight, but not to love.  Gril. 
How Interest differs? yours does this way move,  
Grillon must fight, but Grillon must not love;  
For ought you know now, mine may differ quite;  
If Grillon may not love, he will not fight.  
Yet greater powers than Kings, do both allow;  
Venus and Mars (they say) have joined e'er now.  
I'll humour then my courage and inspite  
Of King I'll love, and spite of love I'll fight.  Enter Revol. Rev. 
The King, Sir, wants you, your Instructions stay.  
You must to Paris.  Gril. 
I'll not stir to day.  Rev. 
Your Equipage is fit; and you must go  Gril. 
— Must.—  
Thrice happy those who no obedience know!  Gab. 
Displease not, Sir, the King with your delay;  
Unless you could please others with your stay.  Gril. 
How! slighted, Woman! wouldst thou have me go? [Offers it.  
I will forsake thee and avenge me so.  
Thou hast lost more, than e'er thy Sex yet gained;  
Myself I value, now I am disdained.  
I leave thee first, doing my Spirit right,  
Which makes me scorn, where e'er I find a slight. [Exit. Gril. and Rev.  Nau. 
His bossom with a stubborn heart is filled,  
Which neither can to love, or beauty yield.  
Your Pardon for this question I implore,  
Madam, did you ne'er see Navarre before?  Gab. 
Yes, in the Wood To you my life I owe.  Nau. 
O be so kind now, to requite me so.  
Welcome blessed hour! for which so long I prayed;  
And for which only, here my Soul had stayed.  
Blessed minute! How I needed thy relief?  
My soul was shrunk, and I was aged with grief.  
O, Madam! Since you vanished from my Eyes,  
I've breathed away my soul in amorous sighs.  
ere Since your fair Idea, like a Ghost,  
Haunted my sleeps, my dreams it haunted most.  
Madam, in Dreams I've seen and spoke to you;  
And oh! Sometimes methought I kissed you too! [Smiles.  Gab. 
But Lovers dreams you know are seldom true.  Nau. 
Nothing, ah, nothing can my joys secure,  
Unless you say my happiness is sure.  Gab. 
If, Sir, I could of such a thing admit;  
Our young Acquaintance is not ripe for't yet.  
Love (I have heard) like Wisdom is conveyed;  
And by long trials of successions made.  Nau. 
O Madam, leave such Arguments as these;  
That cannot be true Love, which can increase.  
Love like perfection's always at a stay;  
For that which can increase, must needs decay.  Gab. 
Love Preaching is like other Preaching grown;  
Managed by art, more than Devotion.  Nau. 
Preaching I know helps little our affairs;  
We rather should betake us to our prayers.  
And if you cannot think I'll faithful be,  
A King begs your belief upon his knee. [Kneels.  Gab. 
Rise, Sir, oh rise! Confound me not with shame. [Takes him up.  Nau. 
O that your blush sprung from an inward flame!  Gab. 
A grateful flame Heaven kindles in my breast;  
Which shines quite through my Cheeks—  
Sir, I can speak no more, I'll blush the rest.  Nau. 
I ne'er can merit this, nor dare beg more;  
Only this thing, Dear Madam, I implore:  
Before you give me trust, be pleased to try  
My Services, and tempt my Constancy.  
Then when my Crown of Truth does brighter shine  
Than that of Gold, I beg you would be mine. [Exeunt.   

SCENE III. The Royal Bedchamber.  The Scene opens and shows the King asleep on's Couch; Murder (personated) rises from the stage, with three Furies on one side and three Fiends on the other, all of 'em menacing him: at last Murder steps towards him and speaks. Mur. 
I was in fashion once, and bore more sway  
I'th' Reigns of Nero and Caligula.  
As th' Christian Faith increased, I took my flight;  
My bloodshot Eyes being dazzled at its light.  
In the old World I little had to do,  
Until kind Spain employed me in the New.  
There did I triumph over millions slain;  
Murder was then the Catholic Sovereign!  
I for sometime there made my Empire good,  
Till almost famished thence for want of blood.  
In France I then did new employment gain;  
A brave employment in thy Brother's Reign!  
When forty thousand in one night were slain.  
Fooled by Repentance now thou layest me by!  
— But know—  
Furies and Fiends will not be fooled, as I.  Then the Furies and Fiends dance about the King in menacing postures; but suddenly show a fear at the appearance of his Guardian-Angel, that flies down with a flaming Sword, and interposes 'twixt the King and them. Angel. 
I come fro'th' Fountain of Eternal light,  
Whose gloomy'st ray is something more than bright.  
Ordered by Fate (which is the will of Heaven)  
This Royal-charge here, to my care is given [Points at th' King.  
I am his Sentinel; yet truly boast  
Myself a Leader in the Starry Host.  
For willingly we leave our blessed abodes,  
To yield attendance on these earthly Gods.  
Avaunt you Sons of Night! Down to your Hell, [They descend.  
Where only fit Companions for you dwell,  
Such aery Phantoms, that possess with fear  
The souls of common dreamers, come not here.  
Those thin Inhabitants o'th' brain must fly  
Before the piercing virtue of mine Eye.  
Thus will I guard him from all kinds of fear— [Waving his Sword o'er him.  
Yet tremble now myself at what comes there  Vengeance (personated) descends in a bright Cloud; his Arm stripped, holding a bloody Sword. Looking fiercely, about his Lip bloody, steps to the King and interposes his Sword, the Angel offers defence.. Veng. 
In vain thou strivest to hinder my design;  
For my Commission is more large than thine.  
To that great Power I my obedience owe,  
At whose command Stars fall and Angels bow.  
Thy Guard was helpful once, but now too late: [Puts th' Angel by.  
In vain! in vain! There is no fence for fate  
Legions of Angels cannot bring him aid;  
My Name is Vengeance and I must be paid. [Strikes the King with his Sword.  The Angel first flies up, than Vengeance ascends in the Chariot, and the Scene closes. 
Explicit Act. IU.    


ACT. V. SCENE. I. The Camp.  Enter King, Grillon, Guards. King. 
Is Paris yet so stubborn not to yield?  Gril. 
As stiff as Iron with Rebellion steeled.  
If you would make her bend to your desire,  
Nothing must make her ductile, Sir, but fire.  King. 
What's thy advice?  Gril. 
To storm this waspish Town,  
And with your Cannon beat her bulworks down;  
Then burn 'em in their nests; till they expire  
Such flaming breaths, as may augment the fire.  King. 
But may not we yet force her to repent?  Gril. 
Not whilst this Love is made in every Tent.  
Great hopes! When two great Kings cannot subdue  
One Woman!  King. 
Why? She also worsted you.  Gril. 
She did my Soul surprise, but not defeat;  
But Soldier like, I made good my retreat.  
I Loved as hotly as did he, or you;  
Nay, faith, as much as both of you could do.  
Yet I maintained my spirit at its hieght,  
And cast her by, when I perceived a slight.  King. 
A slight, a favour is to what I try!  
I see a Rival, more beloved than I:  
But she shall now Love me, or cast him by.  
Wait her in Grillon.  Gril. 
Sir, I am not inclined  
There to pay service, where no Love I find;  
But I'll send Larchant in, whose mean Soul moves  
So low, as to help all men intheir Loves. [Exit. Grillon.  King. 
Has all my Love and Courtship than proved vain?  
If any thing, this may my Love restrain.  
'Tis just, her scorns with scorn to requite,  
And answer all her slight with a slight.  
And yet for all her scorns, I yet would Love,  
Would she as scornful unto others prove.  
But to be triumphed o'er is such a thing,  
That common Lovers scorn, much more a King.  Enter Larchant, Gabriel, Armida, Revol. Gab. 
Whilst you are justly fighting for your Crown,  
Such mean acquests as I, you should not own.  
You even should blush; and then that blush should be  
Ashamed itself, that it did blush for me.  King. 
Let fortune, as she please, dispose of Crowns,  
I'm more concerned in Madam gabriel's frowns.  
Madam, no time, no nor Resolves can ease,  
Or calmmy thoughts, which rage like winter Seas.  
Love's Pinnace in this Voyage needs must fail,  
'T will be o'rborn soon with too large a sail.  
Hope sometimes fills a thought, like a swelled wave,  
Which breaks, and soon is to its self a Grave.  Gab. 
You have before with storms of Love been tossed;  
Yet both the danger, and the thoughts are lost.  King. 
My former Love was like a kindly heat,  
Which healthful Bodies do by Nature get;  
And though sometimes unto a blaze it came,  
Yet as Love fed, it also quenched the flame,  
But this is wildfire in my breast, I fear,  
'T will always burn, I feel it flaming here.  
Yet this my greatest torment needs must prove,  
Navarre shares deepest in your thoughts and Love.  Enter Navarre, Plessis. Nau. 
This is not fair! King's should such arts decline.  
I'll deal more plainly tho; this Lady's mine. [Hands her.  King. 
Is she your Queen?  Nau. 
Nor is she Queen to you.  King. 
But she's my Subject, and so are you too.  Nau. 
Talk not of Subject, Sir; I am a King;  
And that great Name does such resentments bring,  
If I affronted be—  King. 
What will you do?  Nau. 
I'll stake the Lilies betwixt me and you.  King. 
You venture boldly.  Navar. 
Sir, I have a share;  
You thought so too, when you sent for me here.  King. 
Upbraid me not, Sir, with your aid, be gone:  
I scorn your help, and can be King alone.  Nau. 
Well, Sir, I go, but I will have mine own.  
who'll stop me? [Hands his Sword.  Larch. 
That must all. [Steps in with his Guards.  Bless. 
Pray, Sir, forbear; [To Navar.  
Your life's in danger else, his Guards are here.  Gab. 
Dare not you me, Sir, with myself intrust?  
You cannot sure believe I'll be unjust. [Too Navar.  
O, Sir, if that you will not force forbear;  
I'll end this Quarrel with my Dagger here. [To the King.  Nau. 
Sir, I have Guards too, and can show you sport:  
You will not murder me too in your Court?  King. 
'Tis in your choice. But, Sir, she shall not go.  
I'm King; and will not be controlled by you.  Nau. 
Take notice, Sir, I leave her to your trust;  
I can be friendly, if you can be just. [Exit. Navarre, Plessis.  Rev. 
Think of the ruin that may fall to France,  
If any difference 'twixt you two should chance.  
Tho she be ne'er so fair, she cannot prove  
Worthy your anger, though she may you love.  King. 
Experienced judges only should condemn;  
And none but Lovers should consult this Theme.  
Your Merits, Madam, you should not confine; She offering to go.  
Since Saints at their Adorers ne'er repine:  
The greater number cellebrates the shrine.  
Please then his services and mine to prove,  
And Crown his hopes who shows the greatest Love. [Exit. Gabriel and Armida.  
Larchant, attend her to the Town with care;  
Wait on her humbly, strictly guard her there;  
Main and the League less than Navarre I fear. [Exeunt.   

SCENE. II. A Covent of jacobines.  Enter Comolet, Burgoin. Burg. 
THe Sorbon with grave judgement and Advice,  
Have by a Pollick Art asserted this:  
Since Valois does with Heretics agree,  
Abets and sides with 'em, all Frenchmen be  
fro'th' Oath of Fealty and Allegiance free.  Com. 
Are all hands cramped? and all Souls palsied to;  
Past sense of what we suffer? Surely no.  
Can the dull Dutchmen make an Orange bleed?  
And th' fiery French tremble at such a deed?  
In vain we from their Armies seek supply;  
Rather than fail we will our Covents try.  Burg. 
One of my Covent (but yet taught by me  
What glorious Crowns are their rewards, that free  
Their Country and the Church from tyranny;)  
A glorious Project did to me reveal,  
Inspired (no doubt) with a fierce heavenly zeal.  Com. 
Have you confirmed his thoughts?  Bur. 
His zeal's so bold  
That all those Mountains, that go big with gold,  
Could not his resolution now seduce.  Com. 
Yet for all that let's keep him to the use:  
Young men, we know, their Passions fall and rise,  
As th'object is presented to their Eyes.  
Those two grand Seenes of horror and of bliss,  
(Which help to mould the souls of Novices)  
Let us present unto his wondering view.  Bur. 
They both are ready here and painted new.  Enter jacob Clement. 
Welcome my Son.  Clem. 
I wait here with intent  
To beg your blessings and encouragement.  Bur. 
My Son! that blessing freely claim thy own,  
Which Father Isaac gave his youngest son.  
Thou shalt escape; trust son, to my presage;  
And Prophecies 'tis known have bleft my age.  
Ha! son! what sayst thou to the glorious Fact?  Clem. 
But shall I merit Heaven by the Act?  Burg. 
Thou know'st a Doctrine I have often spoke,  
How curious Pictures give a smarter stroke  
Upon our fancies, then dull Doctrines can;  
These touch the outward, those the inward man,  
Behold, my Son, (what thou hast often heard)  
An Antipast of joys and of reward.  Shows a Scene of Paradise. Clem. 
Who would not hazards tempt and torture dare,  
To merit but the least of glories there?  Com. 
What heavenly flames his rosy Cheeks reveal?  
Flushed in the face with inward heat of zeal!  
I see thou art resolved! I plainly see't;  
Thy Stature's taller, and thy Mein more great.  
Thus when the Deities did Priests inspire,  
They both exalted Soul and Body high.  
If thou this glorious attempt survive,  
(And Heaven will sure make its own business thrive)  
Abbot's and Bishops at thy feet must fall,  
As is but due unto a Cardinal.  
But if thou diest, no Cherubin can come  
Near to that Throne, designed for martyrdom.  
Roses and Laurels than must twist in one  
T'adorn thy brow; both glories thou mayst own  
Of Militant and of Triumphant Crown.  Clem. 
O let me go, each tedious minute's stay  
Robs me of glory, just in heavens' highway!  Com. 
Thy soul is fervent now, my hopeful Son!  
Red-hot with zeal, fit for impression:  
But if it cool, 'twill get a stubborn frame,  
Not fit for any Furnace but Hell's flame.  Clem. 
The terror of those flames cannot prevail,  
Where all those bright alluring glories fail.  Burg. 
I'll soon convince thee, and will now disclose  
Here to thy sight a horrid Scene of Woes.  Scene of Hell. Clem. 
Cold drops of sweat condensed by my sad fears,  
Like Icicles, hang on my brows and hairs!  Com. 
O! Son imagine but a Bed of Fire;  
The Curtains flames; the Bed-cords burning Wire;  
If thou wert bound unto this Bed all day,  
And Fiends with red-hot Pinchers pluck away  
Thy nervous parts; yet to renew thy pain,  
With boiling Sulphur, glue 'em on again;  
Thou'lt say this is intolerable! But oh!  
What horror to Eternity's of woe?  Clem. 
O, Sir, forbear! My soul away does faint!  
Your sad description has out done the paint.  
Rather than hazard an eternal pain,  
I will my purpose in short time obtain;  
— Tho for a thonsand thousand years  
I live in torments and cannot be slain.   

SCENE. III. The Camp.  King, Revol, Cuessle, Grillon, an Officer bringing at another door Chateauneuf and Bonneval. Offic. 
These Ladies, Sir, were flying to the Town.  King. 
It seems then, Madam, you the League will own.  Chat. 
The motion, Sir, to Nature did belong;  
For all things are inclined to fly from wrong.  
Beside 'twas reason did my flight procure  
For hopeful good, from Ills that were too sure.  King. 
Where Nature, and where Reason is so known,  
You should the force of stronger workings own.  
For what can Nature, what can Reason move  
(Gown'd-Councelours!) against that Tyrant Love?  
Who like Usurpers, in their new-got throne,  
Despise all other Laws, beside their own.  
Then Chateneuf thou merciful shouldst be;  
Your last Song proves too true a Prophecy,  
And I love one, alas, who loves not me.  Chat. 
Without help pity, Sir, does little good;  
Kind words to famished men are slender food.  
It like repining looks, at Heaven's decree;  
For her just scorns have vindicated me.  
And justice now has equal Passion moved;  
You love where hated, and you hate where loved.  Enter an Officer. 1 Offi. 
To arms! to arms! the vigilence of Main  
By our disorders did advantage gain,  
And has our late disserted trenches ta'en.  Enter another. 2 Offic. 
O Sir!  Gues. 
What is the news?  2 Offi. 
O, Sir, Navar.  
Has some intentions that may cause your fear.  King. 
'Gainst us he never will his Arms advance;  
His veins hold too much of the blood of France.  
Grillen! I leave this business to thy care;  
Tho not in love, yet thou hast skill in War.  Enter a third Officer. 3 Offi. 
The Camp they've entered, and our Guards now force:  
All's in confusion!  Gril. 
I'll to th' Guards of Horse;  
And at the head of them will swiftly fly,  
Disorder all their ranks, or bravely die. [Exit Grillon.  Enter another. 4 Offi. 
Navarre has quit his Post, and now stands still,  
Drawn in Battalia on the neighbouring Hill,  
In view of all our Camp. His glittering Arms  
That once assisted us, now threaten harms.  
So Clouds, that promised once a fruitful birth,  
O'er heated, send down Lightning to the Earth.  Enter Larchant. King. 
Larchant, what news?  Lar. 
O, Sir, we're all undone!  King. 
Where's Gabriel?  Lar. 
Alas, Sir, she is gone!  King. 
Coward! Thy life to keep, and charge to lose.  Lar. 
What could I do against a thousand foes?  King. 
Had Grillon been but there, he'd routed all.  Lar. 
O, Sir! Brave Grillon's lost, I saw him fall.  Rev. 
Have patience Sir. [King much afflicted.  King. 
O! 'Twould an Angel vex,  
To lose at once the glories of each Sex.  A charge. Soldiers flying, and cry Arm, arm, arm. King's Guards beat, himself just overcome; Enter Navarre and interposes 'twixt the King and their Weapons, and beats 'em off. Then turns to th' King. Nau. 
Howe'er you deal with me, Sir, you are free:  
If still you can, you may unmindful be. [Pursues 'em.  King. 
I in his generous favour well might boast,  
If Grillon and my Gabriel were not lost.  
Since two such blessings are to me denied,  
He had been kinder to have let me died.  
Grillon and Galriel in one hour oppressed,  
Whose worth two several Ages might have blessed.  
Afflictions press upon my soul too far;  
I never can hope more from Love, or War.  
The Court is broke— It has no more to boast.  
Since all its beauty, all its Valour's lost. [A shout within.  
What shouts are those? what joys can now arrive.  
Since they are dead?  Enter Grillon bloody, leading Gabriel. Gril. 
Death! Sir, we're both alive.  
Both of us in our gallantries appear,  
I in the richest Scarlets Soldiers wear.  
She in those blushes far more brave than I.  
Whose Scarlets are of a more lasting die.  King. 
What miracle has brought you here again?  
whoever it be that sent you, though Du Main;  
I'll grant him any thing he can pretend,  
And from this minute be his faithful friend.  Gab. 
We take you at you word, Sir.  King. 
Let us hear,  
Who is this generous Hero.  Gril. 
'Tis Navar.  
Buried 'mongst Enemy's I had overcome,  
(For of their Carcases I'd made a Tomb)  
He like an Angel did their Troops invade,  
And cut his passage with a shining Blade.  
Like Ghosts the Enemy before him flies,  
And he made Grillon from the dead to rise.  Gab. 
He freed me too; else I had not been here,  King. 
How! could Navarre be your Deliverer,  
And send you back to me?  Gab. 
He said his trust  
Was firm in you, cause generous and just:  
That your great soul would all its powers unite,  
To quit just scores and services requite.  King. 
Brave man! thou art too great to be expressed;  
Thy soul's too mighty for a mortal breast.  
None, none, but such a Hero could bestow  
His Love on's Rival, and a life on's Foe.  
He in one day so generous did prove,  
Freely to give my Life, my Friend, my Love.  
My boisterous Passions ought now to retreat,  
And I, by his example, must be great.  Enter Navarre putting up his Sword, and Plessis, and Guards. Nau. 
Sir, here I come humbly to beg of you  
T'accept those services which were your due,  
And though with that great honour they are graced,  
They'll but atone for my offences passed,  King. 
Sir, I was passionate as well as you.  Gril. 
Death, who can tell the faultiest of the too?  Nau. 
Nature in all our souls sows precious seeds.  
Virtue's are flowers, and Vices are the Weeds.  Gril. 
Your souls (those curious Gardens) are not free;  
But you your passions have, as well as we.  King. 
We were not men else: Sir, to let you know  
That I can be as generous as you:  
Of your three Presents here I thus dispose,  
My life and Grillon I will only choose.  
This third so rich a recompense will be, Points to Gab. and gives her.  
That with one favour here, I pay for three.  Nau. 
This royal gift contains so vast a sum,  
It pays for all my services to come.  King. 
Dear Chateneuf! thou formerly wert given  
To acts of mercy; imitate then Heaven.  
Forgiveness (without crimes) had never been;  
As Sunbeams, after Clouds, more cheerful seen.  
My roving Heart, neglectful of its rest,  
Forsook the lovely Palace of your breast.  
Then Idly for another ranged about,  
And found one there, but justly was shut out. [Points at Gab.  
Th' afflicted Prodigal does home retire,  
Stripped from all vanities of loose desire,  
Half-starved it begs refreshment at your fire.  Chat. 
'Tis only Pity now that can me move.  King. 
Let me gain Pity, and I'll merit Love.  
Nor can you doubt my Passion to be true;  
Since I leave Gabriel and return to you.  Gril. 
In all my Love designs yet I am crossed. [To Bonneval.  Bon. 
I scorn a Gamester that to all has lost.  Gril. 
My Title's forfeit then to womankind!  
Yet I a nobler Mistress hope to find.  
'Tis Madam, Honour: she delights in War;  
She is a Mistress worth contending for.  
This Leaguer-Lady (for in Camps she's bred)  
Does all the Beauties of the Court exceed.  
She asks no Riches, but those gained in Wars;  
Wounds, for her jointure; for her jewels, Scars.  
victory and Fame she does for Portion yield;  
At last, her Marriage bed, some well fought Field.  
And then to prove her Virgin virtue good,  
Her Maidenhead is always got in Blood.  Nau. 
Such a description and so drawn to th' Life,  
Plainly declares th' haste gained her to thy Wife.  
Now I've more hopes than e'er I had before;  
Since, Grillon, thou wilt rival me no more.  Gril. 
Not, Sir, in Love: troth, 'tis not worth the while;  
Love's favours are but like an April smile,  
Clouded each day, or wept away in showers.  King. 
But, Sir, you better know to use your hours. [Too Navar.  
It is a maxim amongst Lovers known,  
All time is lost, but when they are alone. [Takes out Chateauneus.  [Exeunt omnes praeter Navarre and Gabriel. Nau. 
'Tis a great truth of which we make small use.  
Why should we such a precious treasure lose?  
We are not yet alone.  Gab. 
Here's no one by.  Nau. 
Too many, Madam; since there's you and I.  Gab. 
I'll then withdraw and leave you here alone.  Nau. 
You'll leave but half of me, when you are gone.  Gab. 
I understand you not.  Nau. 
Ah! this does prove  
You are unknowing in the rules of Love.  
We talk, we look, we touch, yet still are poor,  
And 'midst of such enjoyments, long for more.  
There is a thing (we know not) called delight,  
Nor never shall, until our Souls unite.  
Love is in Union placed: And whilst we're two,  
We Love not, we, alas, but only woo!  Gab. 
I know not then how Lover's souls can join,  
Unless when mine is yours, and yours is mine.  Nau. 
How can we at this distance gain such blisses,  
Unless we breathe 'em mutually in chaste kisses?  
Madam, when Heaven does Soul and Body join,  
O! that is Love! And that Love is divine.  Gab. 
But whilst our souls alternately rejoice,  
And rest contented in their purer choice?  
Why should our Bodies, with their sensu'l weight  
Retard our Souls in their more active flight?  Nau. 
Madam, 'tis true; our glorious souls praeside  
Our Bodies, and our greatest actions guide:  
No Love within the Body can begin  
Without assistance from that God within.  
Yet both must act whilst they on Earth reside;  
Their faculties are vainly else employed.  Gab. 
My Love (as lasting as my soul) receive;  
For I no mortal thing to you would give.  
You more obliged me than the World can do;  
And by that rule I would be thankful too.  Nau. 
You in your nice distinctions cruel prove,  
To keep the Body and bestow your Love:  
Like those who rich Estates and jewels give,  
Yet will not yield possession whilst they live.  Gab. 
To the most precious gist I was inclined;  
Because till Death, Love cannot be refined.  Nau. 
That credit Love has lost, let us restore,  
A d by our Loves show what it was before.  
Love and the World together did begin,  
— And did outshine the Sun—  
— Before it clouded was with sin.  
Such pure, such unmixed joys our souls shall swell,  
As Virgins guess and Saints can only tell. [Exeunt.   

SCENE. IV. The Presence Chamber.  Enter King, Revol, Grillon, Larchant, Guards. Gril. 
WHat makes you sad, Sir?  King. 
O! A dream last night;  
Methought the Room was silvered o'er with Light.  
But such a light as darted gentle beams;  
As clear and cool as those that glide o'er streams.  
The Roof seemed open and so seemed the sky;  
From whence a shining light did more than fly.  
It hovered o'er my Head; when soon there came  
This Apparition through a door of flame.  
The Chariot was less bright than his Attire;  
His Lips were bloody, and his Eyes like fire.  
He in his right hand held a flaming Blade;  
Threatening me thus, he thundered out and said  
My name is Vengeance, and I must be paid.  Rev. 
To look for truth from Dreams is full as vain,  
As to hope counsel from a crazy brain.  
Sleep is the Stage, and Fancy makes the Play;  
The thoughts at night; act what they conned by day.  
A Dream's a Play, Sir, and a Play's a dream;  
Both aery Descents of an idle Theme.  King. 
What e'er this Vision may to thee appear,  
I'm sure it makes a Deep impression here.  
The threats of Vengeance most to those belong,  
Who use that power Heaven gave 'em to do wrong.  
One I committed, which wounds deeply here; [Points to's breast.  
I mean the business of the Massacre.  
'T was in this Room, where we did it conclude,  
I well remember in this place I stood;  
I hate it since; methinks it smells of blood. [Enter Guesile.  Gues. 
A youth, Sir, seized by Guards, I now have brought,  
But his chief business, I have vainly sought.  
I took him for a spy and all means tried  
To trap him, but he all things well applied.  
He has Instructions, which he'll tell to none,  
Unless unto your Majesty alone.  King. 
Bring him in, Larchant. [Exit. Larchant.  Gues. 
Sir, he says, he's sent  
By divers Friends, and the first Precedent.  
Who, if your Majesty appoint a day,  
Through a Port your Forces will convey.  Enter Larchant, Clement pressing to the King. Larch. 
Stay, Fellow, where you are, why do you thrust?  Gues. 
Speak out; here's none, but whom the King will trust.  Clem. 
Pardon me, Sir, my business is more great,  
Than either he, or you imagine yet.  King. 
Let him come near. [He comes to th' King.  Gril. 
I know not what, I doubt.  King. 
Now thy chief business speak; but speak more out.  Clem. 
This is my business, Sir. As the King leans to him, he stabs him.  King. 
O! I am slain! Takes the Knife out of his wound, and stabs him.  
Take thy Knife, Villain, thus and thus again.  Rev. 
Run for the Surgeons soon.  Gril. 
Damned Rogue! Take that. [Runs him through, he falls.  Gues. 
How, killed?  Rev. 
O! You have done you know not what.  
We ne'er shall know th' Abettors of the Plot.  Clem. 
Your hands have sealed the bargain now; and given  
Me just possession of my purchased Heaven. [Dies.  Gril. 
How feel you, Sir, yourself. Is the danger past?  Gues. 
Where are these Surgeons? They make little haste.  King. 
I feel no pain, but hold it lest it bleed.  Rev. 
O more than hellish, execrable deed! [Exeunt.  Confused running over the Stage, by chirurgeons, etc. and Guards marching after Grillon. Enter Guesile, Plessis. Gues. 
All will be well, I hope, if he get rest;  
The Surgeons say all danger than is past.  
They have great hopes it is a slanting stroke  
— Then his small pain  
Makes 'em to hope, his Bowels are not broke.  Bless. 
May Heaven confirm it. Whilst we here attend,  
Methinks the time we cannot better spend,  
Than to observe what I did lately hear.  Gues. 
What was't about?  Bless. 
About the Massacre. Viz.  
King Charles and's Mother (for 'twas in their Reign)  
The Cardinal of Guise and of Lorraine,  
The Duke of Anjou (who is now our King)  
Whom Guise into the horrid Plot did bring;  
Those six consulted and pronounced the doom;  
And, pray observe it, in this very Room.  
Vengeance is terrible; but 'tis divine:  
You know by whom 'tis said, Vengeance is mine.  
First, Charles began, cut off in's very prime,  
And by a judgement suited to the crime:  
He died in blood, who living shed such store;  
And then was plunged, nay drowned in his own Gore.  
The fire of Vengeance (which none can restrain)  
Did melt the Glue that cemented each vain;  
Those little Channels quickly made their way  
To th'Brooks, those to the River, those to th' Sea;  
Which overflowed like an impetuous Tide,  
And did through th' sluices of his Body glide.  Gues. 
Then followed next the old Priest of Lorraine,  
Who Christians had for Sacrifices slain.  Bless. 
His punishment was also in his blood;  
Not by an overflowing of the flood;  
But heated by some mystic fire within,  
It boiled away i'th' Cauldron of his skin.  
Pale Ghosts before his dying Eyes did swim,  
They first accused and then distracted him.  
He raging died!—  
His last breath like a storm fro's breast did fly,  
And met a greater tempest in the sky.  Gues. 
Then for the Duke and Cardinal of Guise  
We lately saw their bloody Tragedies.  Bless. 
The old Queen's soul most servilly did wait,  
First on the Guise's crime, then on their fate.  
And though one punishment they could not have,  
They had one guilt, and might have had one Grave.  
Her shrivelled veins, for such crimes could not quit,  
But in her children's blood she paid for it.  Gues. 
there's none alive now, but our wounded Prince,  
Whom doubtless Heaven has pardoned long time since,  
And who, I hope, has many years to live.  Bless. 
Yet future Ages will this judgement give—  
'T was just, that in the place, where once he stood  
Condemning Innocents, he lost his blood.  Gues. 
Great were the judgements!  Bless. 
But more great the crime!  
I think, he was in Poland at that time.  Gues. 
True, Plessis, and I waited on him there.  Bless. 
Strange, that no Ghosts o'th' murdered did appear,  
And with loud shriekings strike his tingling Ear!  
O! 'T was a dismal night!  Gues. 
Which to declare  
Will shortenth ' time of our attendance here.  Bless. 
I need not aggravate the crime, nor tell  
The murderous design, 'tis known too well.  
Margaret of Valois married to Navarre;  
That sacred tie of Love they made their snare.  
Thus Marriage is their Sacrament! they Sign  
Their horrid Plot; and then (instead of Wine)  
They quench their thirsts with blood, like Catiline.  
No State, no Sex, 'scap'd their unmanly rage;  
They neither pitied Youth, nor rev'renced Age.  
The Cross, which Heaven gave as a glorious sign  
Of Victory, to the great Constantine;  
This Ensign first displayed i'th' Starry-Field,  
— To which—  
The Persian Sun and Turkish Moon did yield.  
— Nay which—  
The Blood of God himself did more than gild.  
This sacred Badge's function they invade,  
The Cross they upon every hat displayed,  
Ten thousand Souls were forced that fatal night  
From Bodies pale to take an untimed flight.  
Lovers in midst of soft embraces die;  
Their Souls t'each other in their last breaths fly,  
Then join i'th' vapours of a dying sigh.  
Babes nuzling on stabbed Mothers breasts awake,  
And gushing blood, alas, for milk they take.  
Thin Ghosts (those airy Chariots of our Souls)  
Hovered all o'er the Town in numerous Shoals,  
Attending Guides, that might their ways prepare  
Through the pathless Regions of the Air.  
Now cries of dying Persons 'wake the Sun:  
As Indians with loud clamours call the Moon.  
Now horrid Scenes were offered to our Eyes;  
The ground was paved with Carcases; the Skies  
Were hid with Clouds, which from spilled blood did rise.  Gues. 
Loud is the cry of blood! 'tis louder far  
Than peals of Thunder when they rend the Air.  
Their dying groans echoed to Poland soon,  
Where we with scorn and hate were looked upon.  
The very Tartars, who their Children fill  
With blood of slaves, whom purposely they kill;  
Whose Bodies are first kneaded up with blood,  
Which is as much their substance as their food:  
They even did those Murderers condemn  
Of such a crime, as ne'er was known to them.  Enter a Chirurgeon. Chyr. 
The King inquires for you.  Gues. 
Are all things well?  Chyr. 
Till th'wound is opened, Sir, we cannot tell.   

SCENA ultima. The Royal Bedchamber.  The King on is Couch Navarre, seated by him, Grillon, Revol, Larchant, Gabriel, Chateauneuf, and Chirurgeons. Guessle, Plessis at the other door. Attendants. King. 
Grieve not my Friends; I feel but little pain;  
A sign (they say) I may be well again.  
Strange was my dream and th'event too soon!  Gril. 
But, Sir, the work of Vengeance is not done.  
He hovers there, Sir, or if gone he be,  
H' has his Commission left, and Sword with me.  Nau. 
Grillon, thy vengeance shall have its desire;  
We'll purge that treacherous Town with sword and fire.  Gril. 
May I but kindle 't, though i' th' midst I fry,  
Then like the Phoenix, I'll triumphant die.  King. 
My thanks, Sir, for your love and care I give;  
And shall requite you, if I die or live.  Nau. 
More certain favours to your life I owe,  
Than the World, nay than my hopes can e'er bestow.  
Talk not of dying, Sir; It numbs the sense,  
And deads' the very thoughts of recompense.  King. 
The League is not so tender, Sir, as you;  
I wear their Mark, but my revenge is due, Shows sense of pain.  
Both from my Honour, and my justice too.  Chyr. 
How are you, Sir?  King. 
The pains I now endure.  
Denounce my Sentence; I am passed your cure. [Chirurgeons view the wound, and look distractedly.  Gril. 
What sayst thou Man?  Chyr. 
His Bowels, ah! are pierced!  King. 
My doom is past, and cannot be reversed. [Hear all this time the Chirurgeons are busy.  Gril. 
Thy tongue's as fatal as the Villains knife!  
O! that with mine, I could redeem his life.  
I soon would like the balsam tree be found,  
Distilling drops of blood to cure his wound.  
So both of us might add to honour's score;  
I finish mine and he might purchase more.  King. 
Ladies forbear! My wound has wept enough; Ladies weep.  
My Soul, 'gainst stabs, but not 'gainst tears is proof.  Gab. 
If, Sir, my Tears could do you any good,  
I'd ope the floodgates, and the streams let loose;  
Nay gladly weep myself into a Flood.  
The natural Balsam Virgins do produce.  Chat. 
Poor, hopeless Maid! I have received a wound  
More deep, than that the Villain gave to you.  
That you, when too unkind, I only found,  
And now must lose you when both kind and true.  King. 
May you more happy in all fortunes prove,  
And for your kind grief now, gain joys in Love.  
My End hastes on, my last breath does declare  
(And you all know't) my brother of Navarre  
Is next in blood, and my immediate Heir.  
Forgive my Enemies for Heaven will be  
So just both to avenge itself and me.  
And for Religion I only pray—  
Heaven would direct you in the safest way.  
To turn you, Sir, to mine is vain to try;  
Since, oh! this wound speaks louder far than I  Nau. 
Grief has distracted me and tied my tongue;  
And robbed me of all sense, but of your wrong.  King. 
My soul from every faculty now flies,  
And hovers at the Windows of my Eyes:  
'T will take its flight just at my next fetched groan.  
My dearest friends, farewell! Oh! [Groans and dies.  Rev. 
Now, 'tis flown!  Chat. 
Heaven was my choice before; and now shall be!  
Farewell all Loves, dear soul, unless for thee [Weeps.  Nau. 
In death it was his duty to forgive,  
As to do justice is our parts that live.  
Let us endeavour then with all our might,  
Both to revenge his wrong and gain my right.  
I am your King; and will point out the way  
To Honour, and oblige you to obey.  Bless. 
Let's now to Rheims, Sir, make a quick advance,  
And with that sacred Oil, anoint your Head,  
Which was by Heaven sent purposely to France.  
To raise a new King, when the old on's dead.  Rev. 
The King's last Will, Sir, makes your Title good.  
You are his Heir by Will, as well as Blood  Gril. 
I'll Love and serve you for no other thing.  
But that you're very valiant and my King.  Nau. 
I thank you all. You all shall largely share  
Both in my Royal favours and my care.  
Madam, you knew so much of me before [To Gabriel.  
It is a needless thing, now to say more.  
Only some difference by this change is grown,  
I can present you with a double Crown. [Than turns to the Men.  
Love shall not die, though for a time it cease;  
We'll first try War, than the delights of Peace. [The Curtain falls.  
FINIS.     

THE EPILOGUE. Intended to be spoken by a Woman.  
'tIs very hard, whilst Fortune was our Foe,  
You should dissert us for her being so.  
We were your favourites; and none before  
Lost that preferment, by their own being poor.  
Small cause, that you should with that Whore conspire,  
To send us Famine, 'cause she sent us Fire.  
The Scenes, composed of Oil and porous Fir,  
Added to th' ruin of the Theatre.  
And 'twas a judgement in the Poet's Phrase,  
That Plays and Playhouse perished by a blaze  
Caused by those gaudy Scenes, that spoil good Plays.  
But why for this should we forsaken be?  
It was our House, alas, was burnt; not we.  
And yet from hence might some suspicion come,  
Since it first kindled in our lowest Room;  
The Fire did seize on all both Brick and Wood;  
But we more lucky were in Flesh and Blood.  
If we be poor, what then! We're honest tho;  
And that's the thing, we fear, that loses you.  
'Tis not our faults, if our Estates be low,  
But 'twill be yours, if we continue so.  
— Faith, let us both amend—