University of Virginia Library

Scene IV.

A Street.
Enter Guise with Soldiers.
Gui.
Keep in, let no man slip across of you;
Hold well together; what face I miss of mine
Shall not see food to-morrow; but he that makes
So dull a mixture of his soul with shame
As spares the gold hair or the white, shall be
Dead flesh this hour. Take iron to your hands,
Fire to your wills; let not the runagate love
Fool your great office; be pity as a stone
Spurned either side the way. That breast of woman
That suckles treason with false milk and breeds
Poison i' the child's own lip, think not your mother's:
Nor that lank chin which the grey season shakes
Hold competent of reverence. Pluck me that corn
Which alters in the yellow time of man;
And the sick blade of ungrown days disroot,
The seed makes rot the flower. There's no such use
But reason turns to holy, and keen right
Washes as pure as faith; therefore be swift, and let
Cold mercy choke on alms.

A Captain.
We shall not fail.

Gui.
Some ten go with me to the admiral's house;
You shall be one—and you; pluck him from bed,
And use his body as your edges please,
Then hale him through the street. The rest of you,
As you see time, fire either way; then draw,
And strike across the thickest ends of flight,
God helping you. Say “Guise” now and set on.

[Exeunt.