Gui. All the heads of the League Expect me, and I have engaged my honour.

Mar. Would all those heads were off, so yours were saved!  Once more, O Guise, the weeping Marmoutiere Entreats you, do not go.

Gui. Is’t possible That Guise should say, in this he must refuse you!

Mar. Go then, my lord.  I late received a letter
From one at court, who tells me, the king loves me: 
Read it,—­there is no more than what you hear. 
I’ve jewels offered too,—­perhaps may take them;
And if you go from Paris, I’ll to court.

Gui. But, madam, I have often heard you say, You loved not courts.

Mar. Perhaps I’ve changed my mind: 
Nothing as yet could draw me, but a king;
And such a king,—­so good, so just, so great,
That, at his birth, the heavenly council paused,
And then, at last, cried out,—­This is a man.

Gui. Come, ’tis but counterfeit; you dare not go.

Mar. Go to your government, and try.

Gui. I will.

Mar. Then I’ll to court, nay—­to the king.

Gui. By heaven, I swear you cannot, shall not,—­dare not see him.

Mar. By heaven, I can, I dare, nay—­and I will; And nothing but your stay shall hinder me; For now, methinks, I long for’t.

Gui. Possible!

Mar. I’ll give you yet a little time to think;
But, if I hear you go to take your leave,
I’ll meet you there; before the throne I’ll stand,—­
Nay you shall see me kneel and kiss his hand. [Exit.

Gui. Furies and hell!  She does but try me,—­Ha! 
This is the mother-queen, and Espernon,
Abbot Delbene, Alphonso Corso too,
All packed to plot, and turn me into madness. [Reading the Letter.

  Enter Cardinal GUISE, Duke Of MAYENNE, MALICORN, _&c._

Ha! can it be!  “Madam, the king loves you.”—­ [Reads.
But vengeance I will have; to pieces, thus,
To pieces with them all. [Tears the Letter.

Card. Speak lower.

Gui. No;
By all the torments of this galling passion,
I’ll hollow the revenge I vow, so loud,
My father’s ghost shall hear me up to heaven.

Card. Contain yourself; this outrage will undo us.

Gui. All things are ripe, and love new points their ruin. 
Ha! my good lords, what if the murdering council
Were in our power, should they escape our justice? 
I see, by each man’s laying of his hand
Upon his sword, you swear the like revenge. 
For me, I wish that mine may both rot off—­

Card. No more.

May. The Council of Sixteen attend you.

Gui. I go—­that vermin may devour my limbs;
That I may die, like the late puling Francis[5],
Under the barber’s hands, imposthumes choak me,—­
If while alive, I cease to chew their ruin;
Alphonso Corso, Grillon, priest, together: 
To hang them in effigy,—­nay, to tread,
Drag, stamp, and grind them, after they are dead. [Exeunt.