 | The Duke of Guise |  |
Scene 2.
The Louvre.Enter Guise attended with his Family, Marmoutire meeting him New Drest, attended, &c.
Guise.
Furies, she keeps her Word, and I am lost;
Yet let not thy Ambition shew it to her,
For after all she does it but to try me,
And foil my vow'd Design: Madam, I see
You're come to Court; the Robes you wear become you,
Your Air, your Meen, your Charms, your every Grace,
Will Kill at least your thousand in a day.
Mar.
What, a whole day, and kill but one poor thousand?
An hour you mean, and in that hour ten thousand?
Yes, I wou'd make with every Glance a Murder.
Mend me this Curle.
Guise.
Woman!
Mar.
You see, my Lord,
I have my Followers, like you: I swear
The Court's a Heav'nly Place; but O my Heart,
I know not why that sigh should come uncall'd;
Perhaps 'twas for your going, yet I swear
I never was so mov'd, O Guise, as now;
Just as you enter'd, when from yonder Window
I saw the King.
Guise.
Woman, all over Woman.
The World confesses, Madam, Henry's Form
Is Noble and Majestick.
17
O you grudge
The extorted Praise, and speak him but by halfs.
Guise.
Priest, Corso, Devils! how she carries it!
Mar.
I see, my Lord, you are come to take your leave;
And were it not to give the Court Suspicion,
I would oblige you, Sir, before you go,
To lead me to the King.
Guise.
Death and the Devil!
Mar.
But since that cannot be, I'le take my leave
Of you, my Lord, Heav'n grant your Journey safe.
Farwell once more. Not stir? Does this become you?
Does your Ambition swell into your Eyes?
Jealousie by this Light: Nay then, proud Guise,
I tell you, you're not worthy of the Grace,
But I will carry't, Sir,, to those that are,
And leave you to the Curse of Bosom-War.
[Exit.
May.
Is this the Heavenly?
Guise.
Devil, Devil, as they are all;
'Tis true, at first she caught the Heav'nly Form,
But now Ambition sets her on her Head,
By Hell, I see the Cloven Mark upon her:
Ha! Grillon here! some New Court-Trick upon me.
Enter Grillon.
Grill.
Sir, I have business for your Ear.
Guise.
Retire.
[Exeunt his Followers.
Grill.
The King, my Lord, commanded me to wait you,
And bid you welcome to the Court.
Guise.
The King
Still loads me with New Honours, but none greater
Than this, the last.
Grill.
There is one greater yet,
Your High Commission against the Hugonots;
I and my Family shall shortly wait you,
And 'twill be Glorious Work.
Guise.
If your are there,
There must be Action.
Girll.
O, your Pardon, Sir,
I'm but a Sripling in the Trade of War;
18
What will not your triumphant Arms accomplish!
You, that were form'd for Mastery in War,
That, with a start, cry'd to your Brother Mayenne,
To Horse, and slaughter'd forty thousand Germans.
Guise.
Let me beseech you, Colonel, no more.
Grill.
But, Sir, since I must make at least a Figure
In this great Business, let me understand
What 'tis you mean, and why you force the King
Upon so dangerous an Expedition.
Guise.
Sir, I intend the Greatness of the King,
The Greatness of all France, whom it imports
To make their Arms their Business, Aim, and Glory,
And where so proper, as upon those Rebels
That covered all the State with Blood and Death?
Grill.
Stor'd Arsenals and Armories, Fields of Horse,
Ordnance, Munition, and the Nerve of War,
Sound Infantry, not Harrass'd and Diseas'd,
To meet the fierce Navar, should first be thought on.
Guise.
I find, my Lord, the Argument grows warm,
Therefore, thus much, and I have done: I go
To join the Holy League in this great War,
In which no place of Office, or Command,
Not of the Greatest, shall be bought or sold;
Whereas too Honours often are Conferr'd
On Souldiers, and no Souldiers: This Man Knighted
Because he Charg'd a Troop before his Dinner,
And sculk'd behind a Hedg i'th' Afternoon:
I will have strict Examination made
Betwixt the Meritorious and the Base.
Grill.
You have Mouth'd it bravely, and there is no doubt,
Your Deeds would answer well your haughty Words;
Yet let me tell you, Sir, there is a Man,
Curse on the Hearts that hate him, that wou'd better,
Better than you, or all your puffy Race,
That better would become the Great Battalion;
That when he Shines in Arms, and Suns the Field,
Moves, Speaks, and Fights, and is himself a War.
Guise.
Your Idol, Sir, you mean the Great Navarr;
But yet,—
91
No Yet, my Lord of Guise, no Yet;
By Arms, I bar you that; I swear, No Yet:
For never was his like, nor shall again,
Tho' voted from his Right by your Curs'd League.
Guise.
Judge not too rashly of the Holy League,
But look at home.
Grill.
Ha! dar'st thou justifie
Those Villains?
Guise.
I'le not justify a Villain
More than your self; but if you thus proceed,
If every heated Breath can puff away,
On each surmise, the Lives of Free-born People.
What need that Awful General Convocation,
The Assembly of the States? Nay let me urge,
If thus they villifie the Holy League,
What may their Heads expect?
Grill.
What, if I cou'd,
They should be certain of, whole Piles of Fire.
Guise.
Collonel, 'tis very well I know your Mind,
Which, without fear, or flattery to your Person,
I'le tell the King, and then, with his permission,
Proclaim it for a warning to our People.
Grill.
Come, you're a Murderer your self within,
A Traytor.
Guise.
Thou a—hot old Hair-brain'd Fool.
Grill.
You were Complotter with the Cursed League,
The black Abettor of our Harry's Death.
Guise.
'Tis false.
Grill.
'Tis true, as thou art double-hearted:
Thou double Traytor, to Conspire so basely,
And when found out, more basely to deny't.
Guise.
O Gracious Harry, let me sound thy Name,
Lest this old rust of War, this knotty Trifler,
Should raise me to extreames.
Grill.
If thou'rt a Man,
That did'st refuse the Challenge of Navar,
Come forth.
Guise.
Go on, since thou'rt resolv'd on Death,
I'le follow thee, and rid thy shaking Soul.
20
But see, the King: I scorn to ruin thee,
Therefore go tell him, tell him thy own Story.
King.
Ha, Colonel, is this your Friendly visit?
Tell me the truth, how happen'd this disorder?
Those ruffl'd Hands, red Looks, and port of Fury?
Grill.
I told him, Sir, since you will have it so,
He was the Author of the Rebel League,
Therefore a Traytor, and a Murderer.
King.
Is't possible?
Guise.
No matter, Sir, no matter;
A few hot words, no more upon my Life;
The old Man rowz'd, and shook himself a little:
So if your Majesty will do me Honour,
I do beseech you let the business die.
King.
Grillon, submit your self, and ask his pardon.
Grill.
Pardon me, I cannot do't.
King.
Where are the Guards?
Guise.
Hold, Sir; come Colonel, I'le ask Pardon for you:
This Souldierly Embrace makes up the breach;
We will be sorry, Sir, for one another.
Grill.
My Lord, I know not what to answer you,
I'm friends, and I am not, and so farewell.
[Exit.
King.
You have your Orders; yet before you go,
Take this Embrace: I court you for my Friend,
Tho' Grillon wou'd not.
Guise.
I thank you on my Knees.
And still while Life shall last, will take strict care
To justify my Loyalty to your Person.
[Exit.
Q. M.
Excellent Loyalty, to lock you up!
King.
I see even to the bottom of his Soul:
And, Madam, I must say the Guise has Beauties,
But they are set in Night, and foul Design:
He was my Friend when young, and might be still.
Abbot.
Mark'd you his hollow accents at the parting?
Q. M.
Graves in his Smiles.
King.
Death in his bloodless Hands.
O Marmoutiere! now I will haste to meet thee;
21
Looks like the midnight-Moon upon a Murder;
It gilds the dark design that stays for Fate,
And drives the Shades that thicken from the State.
| The Duke of Guise | |