Chapter 5

_Enter_ GUISE, _attended with his Family;_ MARMOUTIERE _meeting him new drest, attended, &c._

_Gui._ Furies! she keeps her word, and I am lost; Yet let not my ambition shew it to her; For, after all, she does it but to try me, And foil my vowed design.--Madam, I see You're come to court; the robes you wear become you; Your air, your mien, 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 would make with every glance a murder.-- Mend me this curl.

_Gui._ Woman! [_Aside._

_Mar._ You see, my lord, I have my followers, like you. I swear, The court's a heavenly place; but--O, my heart! I know not why that sigh should come uncalled; Perhaps, 'twas for your going; yet I swear, I never was so moved, O Guise, as now, Just as you entered, when from yonder window I saw the king.

_Gui._ Woman, all over woman! [_Aside._ The world confesses, madam, Henry's form Is noble and majestic.

_Mar._ O you grudge The extorted praise, and speak him but by halves.

_Gui._ Priest, Corso, devils! how she carries it!

_Mar._ I see, my lord, you're 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.

_Gui._ Death and the devil!

_Mar._ But since that cannot be, I'll take my leave Of you, my lord; heaven grant your journey safe! Farewell, once more. [_Offers her hand._] Not stir! does this become you,-- Does your ambition swell into your eyes?-- Jealousy 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--

_Gui._ Devil, devil, as they are all. 'Tis true, at first she caught the heavenly 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.

_Gril._ Sir, I have business for your ear.

_Gui._ Retire. [_Exeunt his Followers._

_Gril._ The king, my lord, commanded me to wait you, And bid you welcome to the court.

_Gui._ The king Still loads me with new honours; but none greater Than this, the last.

_Gril._ There is one greater yet, Your high commission 'gainst the Huguenots; I and my family shall shortly wait you, And 'twill be glorious work.

_Gui._ If you are there, There must be action.

_Gril._ O, your pardon, sir; I'm but a stripling in the trade of war: But you, whose life is one continued broil, What will not your triumphant arms accomplish! You, that were formed for mastery in war. That, with a start, cried to your brother Mayenne,-- "To horse!" and slaughtered forty thousand Germans[9].

_Gui._ Let me beseech you, colonel, no more.

_Gril._ 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.

_Gui._ 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?

_Gril._ Stored arsenals and armouries, fields of horse, Ordnance, munition, and the nerve of war, Sound infantry, not harassed and diseased, To meet the fierce Navarre, should first be thought on.

_Gui._ 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 often honours are conferred On soldiers, and no soldiers: This man knighted, Because he charged a troop before his dinner, And sculked behind a hedge i'the afternoon: I will have strict examination made Betwixt the meritorious and the base.

_Gril._ You have mouthed 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 would 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.

_Gui._ Your idol, sir; you mean the great Navarre: But yet--

_Gril._ 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. Though voted from his right by your cursed League.

_Gui._ Judge not too rashly of the Holy League, But look at home.

_Gril._ Ha! darest thou justify Those villains?

_Gui._ I'll not justify a villain, More than yourself; 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 vilify the Holy League, What may their heads expect?

_Gril._ What, if I could, They should be certain of,--whole piles of fire.

_Gui._ Colonel, 'tis very well I know your mind, Which, without fear, or flattery to your person, I'll tell the king; and then, with his permission, Proclaim it for a warning to our people.

_Gril._ Come, you're a murderer yourself within, A traitor.

_Gui._ Thou a ---- hot old hair-brained fool.

_Gril._ You were complotter with the cursed League, The black abettor of our Harry's death.

_Gui._ 'Tis false.

_Gril._ 'Tis true, as thou art double-hearted: Thou double traitor, to conspire so basely; And when found out, more basely to deny't.

_Gui._ O gracious Harry, let me sound thy name, Lest this old rust of war, this knotty trifler, Should raise me to extremes.

_Gril._ If thou'rt a man, That didst refuse the challenge of Navarre, Come forth[10].

_Gui._ Go on; since thou'rt resolved on death, I'll follow thee, and rid thy shaking soul.

_Enter King, Queen-Mother,_ ALPHONSO, _Abbot, &c._

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 happened this disorder? Those ruffled hands, red looks, and port of fury?

_Gril._ I told him, sir, since you will have it so, He was the author of the rebel-league; Therefore, a traitor and a murderer.

_King._ Is't possible?

_Gui._ No matter, sir, no matter; A few hot words, no more, upon my life; The old man roused, and shook himself a little: So, if your majesty will do me honour, I do beseech you, let the business die.

_King._ Grillon, submit yourself, and ask his pardon.

_Gril._ Pardon me, I cannot do't.

_King._ Where are the guards!

_Gui._ Hold, sir;--come, colonel, I'll ask pardon for you; This soldierly embrace makes up the breach; We will be sorry, sir, for one another.

_Gril._ 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, Though Grillon would not.

_Gui._ I thank you on my knees; And still, while life shall last, will take strict care To justify my loyalty to your person. [_Exit._

_Qu. 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.

_Ab._ Marked you his hollow accents at the parting?

_Qu. M._ Graves in his smiles.

_King._ Death in his bloodless hands.-- O Marmoutiere! now I will haste to meet thee: The face of beauty, on this rising horror, 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. [_Exuent._