SCENE XXIII.

_Enter_[424] DUMAINE, _reading a letter; with others._

_Dum._ My noble brother murder'd by the king! O, what may I do for to revenge thy death? The king's alone, it cannot satisfy. Sweet Duke of Guise, our prop to lean upon, Now thou art dead, here is no stay for us. I am thy brother, and I'll revenge thy death, And root Valois his line from forth of France; And beat proud Bourbon to his native home, That basely seeks to join with such a king, Whose murderous thoughts will be his overthrow. 10 He will'd the governor of Orleans, in his name, That I with speed should have been put to death; But that's prevented, for to end his life, And[425] all those traitors to the Church of Rome That durst attempt to murder noble Guise.

_Enter_ Friar.

_Fri._ My lord, I come to bring you news that your brother the Cardinal of Lorraine, by the king's consent, is lately strangled unto death.

_Dum._ My brother Cardinal slain, and I alive! O words of power to kill a thousand men!-- 20 Come, let us away, and levy men; 'Tis war that must assuage this tyrant's pride.

_Fri._ My lord, hear me but speak. I am a friar of the order of the Jacobins, That for my conscience' sake will kill the king.

_Dum._ But what doth move thee, above the rest, to do the deed?

_Fri._ O my lord, I have been a great sinner in my days! and the deed is meritorious.

_Dum._ But how wilt thou get opportunity? 30

_Fri._ Tush, my lord, let me alone for that.

_Dum._ Friar, come with me; We will go talk more of this within. [_Exeunt._