University of Virginia Library

SCENE. I.

Enter Queen Mother, and Marguerite.
Mar.
Is Guise then false! or do you try me, Madam,
And search my Heart, to know how much I love him?
If it be so, I will resolve you quickly;
I'll swear to you by Heav'n, by all things Sacred,
By all that's great and lovely upon Earth,
By him, by Guise, by all the blessed Moments
Of that dear Life, which single I prefer
To Millions of my own, I love him more
Than you love Glory, Vengeance, and Ambition.

Qu. M.
Then thou art lost, a Wretch, an out-cast Fool,
Not worthy of my Care, nor worth my seeking;
For, by my best Desires, I know he scorns thee,
And to my certain Knowledge, is betroth'd
To Catharine Cleve, the Prince of Porcien's Widow.

Mar.
'Tis false; he's not, he shall not, nor he cannot:
You hate me, Madam, and you forge this Matter,
To make me dye, to kill your Marguerite;
For, if you did respect me as your Blood,
Why should you tear my Heart in thousand pieces?
Why should you make me rave with Jealousie?
For, oh, I love beyond all former Passion:
Dye for him! that's too little; I could burn
Piece Meal away, or bleed to Death by drops,
Be flead alive, then broke upon the Wheel,
Yet with a Smile endure it all for Guise:
And when let loose from Torments, all one wound,
Run with my mangled Arms, and crush him dead.

Qu. M.
Farewel; thou'rt mad indeed: I'le find the King,
And send him to convince you of the Truth.

Mar.
The Truth! O Heav'n! nay, stay, and I'le believe you.
But is he false? is't possible in Nature?
Is Guise then, like his Kindred Savages,
True Man, an Upright, Bold, and Hearty Villain?

Q. M.
I tell thee, as I love thy Life and Honour,
Tho' much I fear, the latter is past hope,
Their Marriage will be solemniz'd to morrow;
The Cardinal of Lorrain must joyn their hands.

Mar.
What, he that keeps the Tye, the sacred Contract,
I'le warrant too he'll be a Witness for him.
Why then, for ever throw off Modesty,
If thus Religion cheats us: let us haste,
With Messalina, to the common Stews,
Where Bauds are honester than Roman Church-men.

Q. M.
Think no more on't, but with a generous Fury
Resolve to cast him from your Soul for ever.
Prepare your self for what the King commands,
Without delay, to wed the young Navarre.

Mar.
To wed my Tomb, to dwell in dust below,
Where we shall see no more deceitful Men,
Hear no more flattery, nor no damning Vows;
Where I shall never start from my cold Bed,
Nor walk with folded Arms about the Room,
With Eyes, like Rivers, ever running down;
While with my over-watching, I mistake
The rustling Wind, and every little noise
For Guise's coming; which not finding true,
I weep again, till all my face is drown'd,
And groan, as if there were no end of sorrow.

Q. M.
Then I must find some other Instruments,
That have the power to rule you: So farewel.

[Exit.
Mar.
Stay, Madam, stay. She's gone, and leaves me here,
To do a mischief on my Life. False Guise!
Perfideous Guise! but I will find thee out,
And wreck the Miseries of my Soul upon thee;
Nay, I'le alarm that Priest that makes thee wicked:
Priests, that like Devils, laugh at humane pains,
And Souls ne're reckon, so they count their gains.

[Exit.