Mar. This I expected; but when you have heard
How far I would intreat your majesty,
Perhaps you'll be more calm.
King. See, I am hushed;
Speak then; how far, madam, would you command?
Mar. Not to proceed to last extremities,
Before the wound is desperate. Think alone,
For no man judges like your majesty:
Take your own methods; all the heads of France
Cannot so well advise you, as yourself.
Therefore resume, my lord, your god-like temper,
Yet do not bear more than a monarch should;
Believe it, sir, the more your majesty
Draws back your arm, the more of fate it carries.
King. Thou genius of my state, thou perfect model
Of heaven itself, and abstract of the angels,
Forgive the late disturbance of my soul!
I'm clear by nature, as a rockless stream;
But they dig through the gravel of my heart,
And raise the mud of passions up to cloud me;
Therefore let me conjure you, do not go;
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'Tis said, the Guise will come in spite of me;
Suppose it possible, and stay to advise me.
Mar. I will; but, on your royal word, no more.
King. I will be easy,
To my last gasp, as your own virgin thoughts,
And never dare to breathe my passion more;
Yet you'll allow me now and then to sigh
As we discourse, and court you with my eyes?
Enter Alphonso.
Why do you wave your hand, and warn me hence?
So looks the poor condemned,
When justice beckons, there's no hope of pardon.
Sternly, like you, the judge the victim eyes,
And thus, like me, the wretch, despairing, dies.
[Exit with Alphonso.
Enter Grillon.
Gril. O rare, rare creature! By the power that made me,
Wer't possible we could be damned again
By some new Eve, such virtue might redeem us.
Oh I could clasp thee, but that my arms are rough,
Till all thy sweets were broke with my embraces,
And kiss thy beauties to a dissolution!
Mar. Ah father, uncle, brother, all the kin,
The precious blood that's left me in the world,
Believe, dear sir, whate'er my actions seem,
I will not lose my virtue, for a throne.
Gril. Why, I will carve thee out a throne myself;
I'll hew down all the kings in Christendom,
And seat thee on their necks, as high as heaven.
Enter Abbot Delbene.
Abb. Colonel, your ear.
Mar. By these whispering councils,
My soul presages that the Guise is coming.
If he dares come, were I a man, a king,
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I'd sacrifice him in the city's sight.—
O heavens! what was't I said? Were I a man,
I know not that; but, as I am a virgin,
If I would offer thee, too lovely Guise,
It should be kneeling to the throne of mercy.—
Ha! then thou lovest, that thou art thus concerned.
Down, rising mischief, down, or I will kill thee,
Even in thy cause, and strangle new-born pity!—
Yet if he were not married!—ha, what then?
His charms prevail;—no, let the rebel die.
I faint beneath this strong oppression here;
Reason and love rend my divided soul;
Heaven be the judge, and still let virtue conquer.
Love to his tune my jarring heart would bring,
But reason over-winds, and cracks the string.[Exit.
Abb. The king dispatches order upon order,
With positive command to stop his coming.
Yet there is notice given to the city;
Besides, Belleure brought but a half account,
How that the Guise replied, he would obey
His majesty in all; yet, if he might
Have leave to justify himself before him,
He doubted not his cause.
Gril. The axe, the axe:
Rebellion's pampered to a pleurisy,
And it must bleed.[Shout within.
Abb. Hark, what a shout was there!
I'll to the king; it may be, 'tis reported
On purpose thus.
Let there be truth or lies
In this mad fame, I'll bring you instant word.[Exit Abbot.
Manet Grillon: Enter Guise, Cardinal, Mayenne, Malicorn, Attendants, &c. Shouts again.
Gril. Death, and thou devil Malicorn, is that
Thy master?
Gui. Yes, Grillon, 'tis the Guise;
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One, that would court you for a friend.
Gril. A friend!
Traitor thou mean'st, and so I bid thee welcome;
But since thou art so insolent, thy blood
Be on thy head, and fall by me unpitied.[Exit.
Gui. The bruises of his loyalty have crazed him. [Shouts louder.
Spirit within sings.
Malicorn, Malicorn, Malicorn, ho!
If the Guise resolves to go,
I charge, I warn thee let him know,
Perhaps his head may lie too low.
Gui. Why, Malicorn.
Mal. [Starting.] Sir, do not see the king.
Gui. I will.
Mal. 'Tis dangerous.
Gui. Therefore I will see him,
And so report my danger to the people.
Halt—to your judgment.—[Malicorn makes signs of Assassination.] Let him, if he dare.—
But more, more, more;—why, Malicorn!—again?
I thought a look, with us, had been a language;
I'll talk my mind on any point but this
By glances;—ha! not yet? thou mak'st me blush
At thy delay; why, man, 'tis more than life,
Ambition, or a crown[12].
Gui. Ay, there a general's heart beat like a drum!
Quick, quick! my reins, my back, and head and breast
Ache, as I'd been a horse-back forty hours.
Mal. She has seen the king.
Gui. I thought she might. A trick upon me; well.
Mal. Passion o' both sides.
Gui. His, thou meanest.
Mal. On hers.
Down on her knees.
Gui. And up again; no matter.
Mal. Now all in tears, now smiling, sad at parting.
Gui. Dissembled, for she told me this before;
'Twas all put on, that I might hear and rave.
Mal. And so, to make sure work on't, by consent
Of Grillon, who is made their bawd,—
Gui. Away!
Mal. She's lodged at court.
Gui. 'Tis false, they do belie her.
Mal. But, sir, I saw the apartment.
Gui. What, at court?
Mal. At court, and near the king; 'tis true, by heaven:
I never play'd you foul, why should you doubt me?
Gui. I would thou hadst, ere thus unmanned my heart!
Blood, battles, fire, and death! I run, I run!
With this last blow he drives me like a coward;
Nay, let me never win a field again,
If, with the thought of these irregular vapours,
The blood ha'nt burst my lips.
Card. Peace, brother.
Gui. By heaven, I took thee for my soul's physician,
And dost thou vomit me with this loathed peace?
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'Tis contradiction: no, my peaceful brother,
I'll meet him now, though fire-armed cherubins
Should cross my way. O jealousy of love!
Greater than fame! thou eldest of the passions,
Or rather all in one, I here invoke thee,
Where'er thou'rt throned in air, in earth, or hell,
Wing me to my revenge, to blood, and ruin!
Card. Have you no temper?
Gui. Pray, sir, give me leave.
A moment's thought;—ha, but I sweat and tremble,
My brain runs this and that way; it will not fix
On aught but vengeance.—Malicorn, call the people.
[Shouts within.
But hark, they shout again: I'll on and meet them;
Nay, head them to his palace, as my guards.
Yet more, on such exalted causes borne,
I'll wait him in his cabinet alone,
And look him pale; while in his courts without,
The people shout him dead with their alarms,
And make his mistress tremble in his arms.[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter King and Council.
[Shouts without.
King. What mean these shouts?
Abb. I told your majesty,
The sheriffs have puffed the populace with hopes
Of their deliverer.[Shouts again.
King. Hark! there rung a peal
Like thunder: see, Alphonso, what's the cause.
Enter Grillon.
Gril. My lord, the Guise is come.
King. Is't possible! ha, Grillon, said'st thou, come?
Gril. Why droops the royal majesty? O sir!
King. O villain, slave, wert thou my late-born heir,
065
Given me by heaven, even when I lay a-dying—
But peace, thou festering thought, and hide thy wound;—
Where is he?
Gril. With her majesty, your mother;
She has taken chair, and he walks bowing by her,
With thirty thousand rebels at his heels.
King. What's to be done? No pall upon my spirit;
But he that loves me best, and dares the most
On this nice point of empire, let him speak.
Alph. I would advise you, sir, to call him in,
And kill him instantly upon the spot.
Abb. I like Alphonso's counsel, short, sure work;
Cut off the head, and let the body walk.
Enter Queen-Mother.
Qu. M. Sir, the Guise waits.
King. He enters on his fate.
Qu. M. Not so,—forbear; the city is up in arms;
Nor doubt, if, in their heat, you cut him off,
That they will spare the royal majesty.
Once, sir, let me advise, and rule your fury.
King. You shall: I'll see him, and I'll spare him now.
Qu. M. What will you say?
King. I know not;—
Colonel Grillon, call the archers in,
Double your guards, and strictly charge the Swiss
Stand to their arms, receive him as a traitor.[Exit Grillon.
My heart has set thee down, O Guise, in blood,—
Blood, mother, blood, ne'er to be blotted out.
Qu. M. Yet you'll relent, when this hot fit is over.
King. If I forgive him, may I ne'er be forgiven!
No, if I tamely bear such insolence,
What act of treason will the villains stop at?
Seize me, they've sworn; imprison me is the next,
066
Perhaps arraign me, and then doom me dead.
But ere I suffer that, fall all together,
Or rather, on their slaughtered heaps erect
My throne, and then proclaim it for example.
I'm born a monarch, which implies alone
To wield the sceptre, and depend on none.[Exeunt[13].
ACT IV.
SCENE I.—The Louvre.
A Chair of State placed; the King appears sitting in it; a Table by him, on which he leans; Attendants on each Side of him; amongst the rest, Abbot, Grillon, and Bellieure. The Queen-Mother enters, led by the Duke of Guise, who makes his Approach with three Reverences to the King's Chair; after the third, the King rises, and coming forward, speaks.
King. I sent you word, you should not come.
Gui. Sir, that I came—
067
King. Why, that you came, I see.
Once more, I sent you word, you should not come.
Gui. Not come to throw myself, with all submission,
Beneath your royal feet! to put my cause
And person in the hands of sovereign justice!
King. Now 'tis with all submission,—that's the preface,—
Yet still you came against my strict command;
You disobeyed me, duke, with all submission.
068
Gui. Sir, 'twas the last necessity that drove me,
To clear myself of calumnies, and slanders,
Much urged, but never proved, against my innocence;
Yet had I known 'twas your express command,
I should not have approached.
King. 'Twas as express, as words could signify;—
Stand forth, Bellieure,—it shall be proved you knew it,—
Stand forth, and to this false man's face declare
Your message, word for word.
Bel. Sir, thus it was. I met him on the way,
And plain as I could speak, I gave your orders,
Just in these following words:—
King. Enough, I know you told him;
But he has used me long to be contemned,
And I can still be patient, and forgive.
Gui. And I can ask forgiveness, when I err;
But let my gracious master please to know
The true intent of my misconstrued faith.
Should I not come to vindicate my fame
From wrong constructions? And—
King. Come, duke, you were not wronged; your conscience knows
You were not wronged; were you not plainly told,
That, if you dared to set your foot in Paris,
069
You should be held the cause of all commotions
That should from thence ensue? and yet you came.
Gui. Sir, will you please with patience but to hear me?
King. I will; and would be glad, my lord of Guise,
To clear you to myself.
Gui. I had been told,
There were in agitation here at court,
Things of the highest note against religion,
Against the common properties of subjects,
And lives of honest well-affected men;
I therefore judged,—
King. Then you, it seems, are judge
Betwixt the prince and people? judge for them,
And champion against me?
Gui. I feared it might be represented so,
And came resolved,—
King. To head the factious crowd.
Gui. To clear my innocence.
King. The means for that,
Had been your absence from this hot-brained town,
Where you, not I, are king!—
I feel my blood kindling within my veins;
The genius of the throne knocks at my heart:
Come what may come, he dies.
Qu. M. [Stopping the king.] What mean you, sir?
You tremble and look pale; for heaven's sake think,
'Tis your own life you venture, if you kill him.
King. Had I ten thousand lives, I'll venture all.
Give me way, madam!
Qu. M. Not to your destruction.
The whole Parisian herd is at your gates;
A crowd's a name too small, they are a nation,
Numberless, armed, enraged, one soul informs them.
King. And that one soul's the Guise. I'll rend it out,
070
And damn the rabble all at once in him.
Gui. My fate is now in the balance; fool within,
I thank thee for thy foresight.[Aside.
Qu. M. Your guards oppose them!
King. Why not? a multitude's a bulky coward.
Qu. M. By heaven, there are not limbs in all your guards,
For every one a morsel.
King. Cæsar quelled them,
But with a look and word.
Qu. M. So Galba thought.
King. But Galba was not Cæsar.
Gui. I must not give them time for resolution.—[Aside.
My journey, sir, has discomposed my health,[To the king.
I humbly beg your leave, I may retire,
Till your commands recall me to your service.[Exit[14].
King. So, you have counselled well; the traitor's gone,
To mock the meekness of an injured king.[To Qu. M.
071
Why did not you, who gave me part of life,
Infuse my father stronger in my veins?
But when you kept me cooped within your womb,
You palled his generous blood with the dull mixture
Of your Italian food, and milked slow arts
Of womanish tameness in my infant mouth.
Why stood I stupid else, and missed a blow,
Which heaven and daring folly made so fair?
Qu. M. I still maintain, 'twas wisely done to spare him.
072
Gril. A pox on this unseasonable wisdom!
He was a fool to come; if so, then they,
Who let him go, were somewhat.
King. The event, the event will shew us what we were;
For, like a blazing meteor hence he shot,
And drew a sweeping fiery train along.—
O Paris, Paris, once my seat of triumph,
But now the scene of all thy king's misfortunes;
Ungrateful, perjured, and disloyal town,
Which by my royal presence I have warmed
So long, that now the serpent hisses out,
And shakes his forked tongue at majesty,
While I—
Qu. M. While you lose time in idle talk,
And use no means for safety and prevention.
King. What can I do? O mother, Abbot, Grillon!
All dumb! nay, then 'tis plain, my cause is desperate.
Such an overwhelming ill makes grief a fool,
As if redress were past.
Gril. I'll go to the next sheriff,
And beg the first reversion of a rope:
Dispatch is all my business; I'll hang for you.
Abb. 'Tis not so bad, as vainly you surmise;
Some space there is, some little space, some steps
Betwixt our fate and us: our foes are powerful,
But yet not armed, nor marshalled into order;
Believe it, sir, the Guise will not attempt,
Till he have rolled his snow-ball to a heap.
King. So then, my lord, we're a day off from death:
What shall to-morrow do?
Abb. To-morrow, sir,
If hours between slide not too idly by,
You may be master of their destiny,
Who now dispose so loftily of yours.
Not far without the suburbs there are quartered
073
Three thousand Swiss, and two French regiments.
King. Would they were here, and I were at their head!
Qu. M. Send Mareschal Byron to lead them up.
King. It shall be so: by heaven there's life in this!
The wrack of clouds is driving on the winds,
And shews a break of sunshine—
Go Grillon, give my orders to Byron,
And see your soldiers well disposed within,
For safeguard of the Louvre.
Qu. M. One thing more:
The Guise (his business yet not fully ripe,)
Will treat, at least, for shew of loyalty;
Let him be met with the same arts he brings.
King. I know, he'll make exorbitant demands,
But here your part of me will come in play;
The Italian soul shall teach me how to sooth:
Even Jove must flatter with an empty hand,
'Tis time to thunder, when he gripes the brand.[Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Night Scene.
Enter Malicorn solus.
Mal. Thus far the cause of God; but God's or devil's,—
I mean my master's cause, and mine,—succeed,
What shall the Guise do next?[A flash of lightning.
Enter the spirit Melanax.
Mel. First seize the king, and after murder him.
Mal. Officious fiend, thou comest uncalled to-night.
Mel. Always uncalled, and still at hand for mischief.
Mal. But why in this fanatic habit, devil?
Thou look'st like one that preaches to the crowd;
Gospel is in thy face, and outward garb,
074
And treason on thy tongue.
Mel. Thou hast me right:
Ten thousand devils more are in this habit;
Saintship and zeal are still our best disguise:
We mix unknown with the hot thoughtless crowd,
And quoting scriptures, (which too well we know,)
With impious glosses ban the holy text,
And make it speak rebellion, schism, and murder;
So turn the arms of heaven against itself.
Mal. What makes the curate of St. Eustace here?
Mel. Thou art mistaken, master; 'tis not he,
But 'tis a zealous, godly, canting devil,
Who has assumed the churchman's lucky shape,
To talk the crowd to madness and rebellion.
Mal. O true enthusiastic devil, true,—
(For lying is thy nature, even to me,)
Did'st thou not tell me, if my lord, the Guise,
Entered the court, his head should then lie low?
That was a lie; he went, and is returned.
Mel. 'Tis false; I said, perhaps it should lie low;
And, but I chilled the blood in Henry's veins,
And crammed a thousand ghastly, frightful thoughts,
Nay, thrust them foremost in his labouring brain,
Even so it would have been.
Mal. Thou hast deserved me,
And I am thine, dear devil: what do we next?
Mel. I said, first seize the king.
Mal. Suppose it done:
He's clapt within a convent, shorn a saint,
My master mounts the throne.
Mel. Not so fast, Malicorn;
Thy master mounts not, till the king be slain.
Mal. Not when deposed?
Mel. He cannot be deposed:
He may be killed, a violent fate attends him;
But at his birth there shone a regal star.
Mal. My master had a stronger.
075
Mel. No, not a stronger, but more popular.
Their births were full opposed, the Guise now strongest
But if the ill influence pass o'er Harry's head,
As in a year it will, France ne'er shall boast
A greater king than he; now cut him off,
While yet his stars are weak.
Mal. Thou talk'st of stars:
Can'st thou not see more deep into events,
And by a surer way?
Mel. No, Malicorn;
The ways of heaven are broken since our fall,
Gulph beyond gulph, and never to be shot.
Once we could read our mighty Maker's mind,
As in a crystal mirror, see the ideas
Of things that always are, as he is always;
Now, shut below in this dark sphere,
By second causes dimly we may guess,
And peep far off on heaven's revolving orbs,
Which cast obscure reflections from the throne.
Mal. Then tell me thy surmises of the future.
Mel. I took the revolution of the year,
Just when the Sun was entering in the Ham:
The ascending Scorpion poisoned all the sky,
A sign of deep deceit and treachery.
Full on his cusp his angry master sate,
Conjoined with Saturn, baleful both to man:
Of secret slaughters, empires overturned,
Strife, blood, and massacres, expect to hear,
And all the events of an ill-omened year.
Mal. Then flourish hell, and mighty mischief reign!
Mischief, to some, to others must be good.
But hark! for now, though 'tis the dead of night,
When silence broods upon our darkened world,
Methinks I hear a murmuring hollow sound,
Like the deaf chimes of bells in steeples touched.
Mel. It is truly guessed; |
} } } |
Mal. To-morrow then.
Mel. To-morrow let it be;
Or thou deceiv'st those hungry, gaping fiends,
And Beelzebub will rage.
Mal. Why Beelzebub? hast thou not often said,
That Lucifer's your king?
Mel. I told thee true;
But Lucifer, as he who foremost fell,
So now lies lowest in the abyss of hell,
Chained till the dreadful doom; in place of whom
Sits Beelzebub, vicegerent of the damned,
Who, listening downward, hears his roaring lord,
077
And executes his purpose.—But no more[16].
The morning creeps behind yon eastern hill,
And now the guard is mine, to drive the elves,
And foolish fairies, from their moonlight play,
And lash the laggers from the sight of day.[Descends.
[Exit Mal.
SCENE III.
Enter Guise, Mayenne, Cardinal, and Archbishop.
May. Sullen, methinks, and slow the morning breaks,
As if the sun were listless to appear,
And dark designs hung heavy on the day.
Gui. You're an old man too soon, you're superstitious;
I'll trust my stars, I know them now by proof;
The genius of the king bends under mine:
Environed with his guards, he durst not touch me;
But awed and cravened, as he had been spelled,
Would have pronounced, Go kill the Guise, and durst not.
Card. We have him in our power, coop'd in his court.
Who leads the first attack? Now by yon heaven,
That blushes at my scarlet robes, I'll doff
This womanish attire of godly peace,
And cry,—Lie there, Lord Cardinal of Guise.
078
Gui. As much too hot, as Mayenne is too cool.
But 'tis the manlier fault of the two.
Arch. Have you not heard the king, preventing day,
Received the guards into the city gates,
The jolly Swisses marching to their fifes?
The crowd stood gaping, heartless and amazed,
Shrunk to their shops, and left the passage free.
Gui. I would it should be so, 'twas a good horror[17].
First let them fear for rapes, and ransacked houses;
That very fright, when I appear to head them,
Will harden their soft city courages:
Cold burghers must be struck, and struck like flints,
Ere their hid fire will sparkle.
Arch. I'm glad the king has introduced these guards.
Card. Your reason.
Arch. They are too few for us to fear;
Our numbers in old martial men are more,
The city not cast in; but the pretence,
That hither they are brought to bridle Paris,
Will make this rising pass for just defence.
May. Suppose the city should not rise?
Gui. Suppose, as well, the sun should never rise:
He may not rise, for heaven may play a trick;
But he has risen from Adam's time to ours.
079
Is nothing to be left to noble hazard?
No venture made, but all dull certainty?
By heaven I'll tug with Henry for a crown,
Rather than have it on tame terms of yielding:
I scorn to poach for power.
Enter a Servant, who whispers Guise.
A lady, say'st thou, young and beautiful,
Brought in a chair?
Conduct her in.—[Exit Servant.
Card. You would be left alone?
Gui. I would; retire.[Exeunt May. Card. &c.
Re-enter Servant with Marmoutiere, and exit.
Starting back.] Is't possible? I dare not trust my eyes!
You are not Marmoutiere?
Mar. What am I then?
Gui. Why, any thing but she:
What should the mistress of a king do here?
Mar. Find him, who would be master of a king.
Gui. I sent not for you, madam.
Mar. I think, my lord, the king sent not for you.
Gui. Do you not fear, your visit will be known?
Mar. Fear is for guilty men, rebels, and traitors:
Where'er I go, my virtue is my guard.
Gui. What devil has sent thee here to plague my soul?
O that I could detest thee now as much
As ever I have loved, nay, even as much
As yet, in spite of all thy crimes, I love!
But 'tis a love so mixt with dark despair,
The smoke and soot smother the rising flame,
And make my soul a furnace. Woman, woman,
What can I call thee more? if devil, 'twere less.
Sure, thine's a race was never got by Adam,
But Eve played false, engendering with the serpent,
Her own part worse than his.
080 Mar. Then they got traitors.
Gui. Yes, angel-traitors, fit to shine in palaces,
Forked into ills, and split into deceits;
Two in their very frame. 'Twas well, 'twas well,
I saw thee not at court, thou basilisk;
For if I had, those eyes, without his guards,
Had done the tyrant's work.
Mar. Why then it seems
I was not false in all: I told you, Guise,
If you left Paris, I would go to court:
You see I kept my promise.
Gui. Still thy sex:
Once true in all thy life, and that for mischief.
Mar. Have I said I loved you?
Gui. Stab on, stab:
'Tis plain you love the king.
Mar. Nor him, nor you,
In that unlawful way you seem to mean.
My eyes had once so far betrayed my heart,
As to distinguish you from common men;
Whate'er you said, or did, was charming all.
Gui. But yet, it seems, you found a king more charming.
Mar. I do not say more charming, but more noble,
More truly royal, more a king in soul,
Than you are now in wishes.
Gui. May be so:
But love has oiled your tongue to run so glib,—
Curse on your eloquence!
Mar. Curse not that eloquence that saved your life:
For, when your wild ambition, which defied
A royal mandate, hurried you to town;
When over-weening pride of popular power
Had thrust you headlong in the Louvre toils,
Then had you died: For know, my haughty lord,
Had I not been, offended majesty
081
Had doomed you to the death you well deserved.
Gui. Then was't not Henry's fear preserved my life?
Mar. You know him better, or you ought to know him:
He's born to give you fear, not to receive it.
Gui. Say this again; but add, you gave not up
Your honour as the ransom of my life;
For, if you did, 'twere better I had died.
Mar. And so it were.
Gui. Why said you, so it were?
For though 'tis true, methinks 'tis much unkind.
Mar. My lord, we are not now to talk of kindness.
If you acknowledge I have saved your life,
Be grateful in return, and do an act,
Your honour, though unasked by me, requires.
Gui. By heaven, and you, whom next to heaven I love,
(If I said more, I fear I should not lie,)
I'll do whate'er my honour will permit.
Mar. Go, throw yourself at Henry's royal feet,
And rise not till approved a loyal subject.
Gui. A duteous loyal subject I was ever.
Mar. I'll put it short, my lord; depart from Paris.
Gui. I cannot leave
My country, friends, religion, all at stake.
Be wise, and be before-hand with your fortune;
Prevent the turn, forsake the ruined court;
Stay here, and make a merit of your love.
Mar. No; I'll return, and perish in those ruins.
I find thee now, ambitious, faithless, Guise.
Farewell, the basest and the last of men!
Gui. Stay, or—O heaven!—I'll force you: Stay—
Mar. I do believe
So ill of you, so villainously ill,
That, if you durst, you would:
082
Honour you've little, honesty you've less;
But conscience you have none:
Yet there's a thing called fame, and men's esteem,
Preserves me from your force. Once more, farewell.
Look on me, Guise; thou seest me now the last;
Though treason urge not thunder on thy head,
This one departing glance shall flash thee dead.[Exit.
Gui. Ha, said she true? Have I so little honour?
Why, then, a prize so easy and so fair
Had never 'scaped my gripe: but mine she is;
For that's set down as sure as Henry's fall.
But my ambition, that she calls my crime;—
False, false, by fate! my right was born with me.
And heaven confest it in my very frame;
The fires, that would have formed ten thousand angels,
Were crammed together for my single soul.
Enter Malicorn.
Mal. My lord, you trifle precious hours away;
The heavens look gaudily upon your greatness,
And the crowned moments court you as they fly.
Brisac and fierce Aumale have pent the Swiss,
And folded them like sheep in holy ground;
Where now, with ordered pikes, and colours furled,
They wait the word that dooms them all to die:
Come forth, and bless the triumph of the day.
Gui. So slight a victory required not me:
I but sat still, and nodded, like a god,
My world into creation; now 'tis time
To walk abroad, and carelessly survey
How the dull matter does the form obey.[Exit with Malicorn.
SCENE IV.
Enter Citizens, and Melanax, in his fanatic Habit, at the head them.
Mel. Hold, hold, a little, fellow citizens; and you, 083 gentlemen of the rabble, a word of godly exhortation to strengthen your hands, ere you give the onset.
1 Cit. Is this a time to make sermons? I would not hear the devil now, though he should come in God's name, to preach peace to us.
2 Cit. Look you, gentlemen, sermons are not to be despised; we have all profited by godly sermons that promote sedition: let the precious man hold forth.
Omn. Let him hold forth, let him hold forth.
Mel. To promote sedition is my business: It has been so before any of you were born, and will be so, when you are all dead and damned; I have led on the rabble in all ages.
1 Cit. That's a lie, and a loud one.
2 Cit. He has led the rabble both old and young, that's all ages: A heavenly sweet man, I warrant him; I have seen him somewhere in a pulpit.
Mel. I have sown rebellion every where.
1 Cit. How, every where? That's another lie: How far have you travelled, friend?
Mel. Over all the world.
1 Cit. Now, that's a rapper.
2 Cit. I say no: For, look you, gentlemen, if he has been a traveller, he certainly says true, for he may lie by authority.
Mel. That the rabble may depose their prince, has in all times, and in all countries, been accounted lawful.
1 Cit. That's the first true syllable he has uttered: but as how, and whereby, and when, may they depose him?
Mel. Whenever they have more power to depose, than he has to oppose; and this they may do upon the least occasion.
1 Cit. Sirrah, you mince the matter; you should 084 say, we may do it upon no occasion, for the less the better.
Mel. [Aside.] Here's a rogue now, will out-shoot the devil in his own bow.
2 Cit. Some occasion, in my mind, were not amiss: for, look you, gentlemen, if we have no occasion, then whereby we have no occasion to depose him; and therefore, either religion or liberty, I stick to those occasions; for when they are gone, good night to godliness and freedom.
Mel. When the most are of one side, as that's our case, we are always in the right; for they, that are in power, will ever be the judges: so that if we say white is black, poor white must lose the cause, and put on mourning; for white is but a single syllable, and we are a whole sentence. Therefore, go on boldly, and lay on resolutely for your Solemn League and Covenant; and if here be any squeamish conscience who fears to fight against the king,—though I, that have known you, citizens, these thousand years, suspect not any,—let such understand that his majesty's politic capacity is to be distinguished from his natural; and though you murder him in one, you may preserve him in the other; and so much for this time, because the enemy is at hand.
2 Cit. [Looking out.] Look you, gentlemen, 'tis Grillon, the fierce colonel; he that devours our wives, and ravishes our children.
1 Cit. He looks so grum, I don't care to have to do with him; would I were safe in my shop, behind the counter.
2 Cit. And would I were under my wife's petticoats. Look you, gentlemen.
Mel. You, neighbour, behind your counter, yesterday paid a bill of exchange in glass louis d'ors; 085 and you, friend, that cry, look you, gentlemen, this very morning was under another woman's petticoats, and not your wife's.
2 Cit. How the devil does he know this?
Mel. Therefore, fight lustily for the cause of
heaven, and to make even tallies for your sins;
which, that you may do with a better conscience, I
absolve you both, and all the rest of you: Now, go
on merrily; for those, that escape, shall avoid killing;
and those, who do not escape, I will provide
for in another world.
[Cry within, on the other side of the stage, Vive
le Roi, vive le Roi!
Enter Grillon, and his Party.
Gril. Come on, fellow soldiers, Commilitones;
that's my word, as 'twas Julius Cæsar's, of pagan
memory. 'Fore God, I am no speech maker; but
there are the rogues, and here's bilbo, that's a word
and a blow; we must either cut their throats, or
they cut ours, that's pure necessity, for your comfort:
Now, if any man can be so unkind to his
own body,—for I meddle not with your souls,—as to
stand still like a good Christian, and offer his weasand
to a butcher's whittle,—I say no more, but that he
may be saved, and that's the best can come on him.
[Cry on both sides, Vive le Roi, vive Guise!
They fight.
Mel. Hey, for the duke of Guise, and property!
Up with religion and the cause, and down with
those arbitrary rogues there! Stand to't, you associated
cuckolds. [Citizens go back.] O rogues!
O cowards!—Damn these half-strained shopkeepers,
got between gentlemen and city wives; how naturally
they quake, and run away from their own fathers!
086
twenty souls a penny were a dear bargain
of them.
[They all run off, Melanax with them; the 1st
and 2d Citizens taken.
Gril. Possess yourselves of the place, Maubert, and hang me up those two rogues, for an example.
1 Cit. O spare me, sweet colonel; I am but a young beginner, and new set up.
Gril. I'll be your customer, and set you up a little better, sirrah;—go, hang him at the next sign-post:—What have you to say for yourself, scoundrel? why were you a rebel?
2 Cit. Look you, colonel, 'twas out of no ill meaning to the government; all that I did, was pure obedience to my wife.
Gril. Nay, if thou hast a wife that wears the breeches, thou shalt be condemned to live: Get thee home for a hen-pecked traitor.—What, are we encompassed? Nay, then, faces this way; we'll sell our skins to the fairest chapmen.
Enter Aumale and Soldiers, on the one side, Citizens on the other. Grillon, and his Party, are disarmed.
1 Cit. Bear away that bloody-minded colonel, and hang him up at the next sign-post: Nay, when I am in power, I can make examples too.
Omn. Tear him piece-meal; tear him piece-meal. [Pull and haul him.
Gril. Rogues, villains, rebels, traitors, cuckolds! 'Swounds, what do you make of a man? do you think legs and arms are strung upon a wire, like a jointed baby? carry me off quickly, you were best, and hang me decently, according to my first sentence.
2 Cit. Look you, colonel; you are too bulky to be carried off all at once; a leg or an arm is one man's burden: give me a little finger for a sample 087 of him, whereby I'll carry it for a token to my sovereign lady.
Gril. 'Tis too little, in all conscience, for her; take a bigger token, cuckold. Et tu, Brute, whom I saved? O the conscience of a shopkeeper!
2 Cit. Look you, colonel, for your saving of me, I thank you heartily, whereby that debt's paid; but for speaking treason against my anointed wife, that's a new reckoning between us.
Enter Guise, with a General's Staff in his Hand; Mayenne, Cardinal, Archbishop, Malicorn, and Attendants.
Omn. Vive Guise!
Gui. [Bowing, and bareheaded.]
I thank you, countrymen: the hand of heaven
In all our safeties has appeared this day.
Stand on your guard, and double every watch,
But stain your triumph with no Christian blood;
French we are all, and brothers of a land.
Card. What mean you, brother, by this godly talk,
Of sparing Christian blood? why, these are dogs;
Now, by the sword that cut off Malchus' ear,
Mere dogs, that neither can be saved nor damned.
Arch. Where have you learnt to spare inveterate foes?
Gui. You know the book.
Arch. And can expound it too:
But Christian faith was in the nonage then,
And Roman heathens lorded o'er the world.
What madness were it for the weak and few,
To fight against the many and the strong?
Grillon must die, so must the tyrant's guards,
Lest, gathering head again, they make more work.
Mal. My lord, the people must be fleshed in blood,
To teach them the true relish; dip them with you,
Or they'll perhaps repent.
088
Gui. You are fools; to kill them, were to shew I feared them;
The court, disarmed, disheartened and besieged,
Are all as much within my power, as if
I griped them in my fist.
May. 'Tis rightly judged:
And, let me add, who heads a popular cause,
Must prosecute that cause by popular ways:
So, whether you are merciful or no,
You must affect to be.
Gui. Dismiss those prisoners.—Grillon, you are free;
I do not ask your love, be still my foe.
Gril. I will be so: but let me tell you, Guise,
As this was greatly done, 'twas proudly too:
I'll give you back your life when next we meet;
'Till then I am your debtor.
Gui. That's till dooms-day.
[Grillon and his Party exeunt one way,
Rabble the other.
Haste, brother, draw out fifteen thousand men,
Surround the Louvre, lest the prey should 'scape.
I know the king will send to treat;
We'll set the dice on him in high demands,
No less than all his offices of trust;
He shall be pared, and cantoned out, and clipped
So long, he shall not pass.
Card. What! do we talk
Of paring, clipping, and such tedious work,
Like those that hang their noses o'er a potion,
And qualm, and keck, and take it down by sips!
Arch. Best make advantage of this popular rage,
Let in the o'erwhelming tide on Harry's head;
In that promiscuous fury, who shall know,
Among a thousand swords, who killed the king?
Mal. O my dear lord, upon this only day
089
Depends the series of your following fate:
Think your good genius has assumed my shape,
In this prophetic doom.
Gui. Peace, croaking raven!—
I'll seize him first, then make him a led monarch;
I'll be declared lieutenant-general
Amidst the three estates, that represent
The glorious, full, majestic face of France,
Which, in his own despite, the king shall call:
So let him reign my tenant during life,
His brother of Navarre shut out for ever,
Branded with heresy, and barred from sway;
That, when Valois consumed in ashes lies,
The Phœnix race of Charlemain may rise.[Exeunt.
SCENE V.—The Louvre.
Enter King, Queen-Mother, Abbot, and Grillon.
King. Dismissed with such contempt?
Gril. Yes, 'faith, we past like beaten Romans underneath the fork.
King. Give me my arms.
Gril. For what?
King. I'll lead you on.
Gril. You are a true lion, but my men are sheep;
If you run first, I'll swear they'll follow you.
King. What, all turned cowards? not a man in France
Dares set his foot by mine, and perish by me?
Gril. Troth, I can't find them much inclined to perishing.
King. What can be left in danger, but to dare?
No matter for my arms, I'll go barefaced,
And seize the first bold rebel that I meet.
Abb. There's something of divinity in kings,
That sits between their eyes, and guards their life.
090
Gril. True, Abbot; but the mischief is, you churchmen
Can see that something further than the crowd;
These musket bullets have not read much logic,
Nor are they given to make your nice distinctions:
[One enters, and gives the Queen a Note, she
reads—
One of them possibly may hit the king
In some one part of him that's not divine;
And so that mortal part of his majesty would draw
the divinity of it into another world, sweet Abbot.
Qu. M. 'Tis equal madness to go out or stay;
The reverence due to kings is all transferred
To haughty Guise; and when new gods are made,
The old must quit the temple; you must fly.
King. Death! had I wings, yet would I scorn to fly.
Gril. Wings, or no wings, is not the question:
If you won't fly for't, you must ride for't,
And that comes much to one.
King. Forsake my regal town!
Qu. M. Forsake a bedlam;
This note informs me fifteen thousand men
Are marching to inclose the Louvre round.
Abb. The business then admits no more dispute,
You, madam, must be pleased to find the Guise;
Seem easy, fearful, yielding, what you will;
But still prolong the treaty all you can,
To gain the king more time for his escape.
Qu. M. I'll undertake it.—Nay, no thanks, my son.
My blessing shall be given in your deliverance;
That once performed, their web is all unravelled,
And Guise is to begin his work again.[Exit Q.M.
King. I go this minute.
Nay, then another minute must be given.—
O how I blush, that thou shouldst see thy king
Do this low act, that lessens all his fame:
Death, must a rebel force me from my love!
If it must be—
Mar. It must not, cannot be.
Gril. No, nor shall not, wench, as long as my soul wears a body.
King. Secure in that, I'll trust thee;—shall I trust thee?
For conquerors have charms, and women frailty:—
Farewell thou mayst behold me king again;
My soul's not yet deposed:—why then farewell!—
I'll say't as comfortably as I can:
But O cursed Guise, for pressing on my time,
And cutting off ten thousand more adieus!
Mar. The moments that retard your flight are traitors.
Make haste, my royal master, to be safe,
And save me with you, for I'll share your fate.
King. Wilt thou go too?
Then I am reconciled to heaven again:
O welcome, thou good angel of my way,
Thou pledge and omen of my safe return!
Not Greece, nor hostile Juno could destroy
The hero that abandoned burning Troy;
He 'scaped the dangers of the dreadful night,
When, loaded with his gods, he took his flight.
[Exuent, the King leading her.