Gui. Sir, that I came—­

King. Why, that you came, I see.  Once more, I sent you word, you should not come.

Gui. Not come to throw myself, with all submission, Beneath your royal feet! to put my cause And person in the hands of sovereign justice!

King. Now ’tis with all submission,—­that’s the preface,—­ Yet still you came against my strict command; You disobeyed me, duke, with all submission.

Gui. Sir, ’twas the last necessity that drove me,
To clear myself of calumnies, and slanders,
Much urged, but never proved, against my innocence;
Yet had I known ’twas your express command,
I should not have approached.

King. ’Twas as express, as words could signify;—­ Stand forth, Bellieure,—­it shall be proved you knew it,—­ Stand forth, and to this false man’s face declare Your message, word for word.

Bel. Sir, thus it was.  I met him on the way, And plain as I could speak, I gave your orders, Just in these following words:—­

King. Enough, I know you told him; But he has used me long to be contemned, And I can still be patient, and forgive.

Gui. And I can ask forgiveness, when I err;
But let my gracious master please to know
The true intent of my misconstrued faith. 
Should I not come to vindicate my fame
From wrong constructions?  And—­

King. Come, duke, you were not wronged; your conscience knows
You were not wronged; were you not plainly told,
That, if you dared to set your foot in Paris,
You should be held the cause of all commotions
That should from thence ensue? and yet you came.

Gui. Sir, will you please with patience but to hear me?

King. I will; and would be glad, my lord of Guise, To clear you to myself.

Gui. I had been told,
There were in agitation here at court,
Things of the highest note against religion,
Against the common properties of subjects,
And lives of honest well-affected men;
I therefore judged,—­

King. Then you, it seems, are judge Betwixt the prince and people? judge for them, And champion against me?

Gui. I feared it might be represented so, And came resolved,—­

King. To head the factious crowd.

Gui. To clear my innocence.

King. The means for that,
Had been your absence from this hot-brained town,
Where you, not I, are king!—­
I feel my blood kindling within my veins;
The genius of the throne knocks at my heart: 
Come what may come, he dies.

Qu.  M. [Stopping the king.] What mean you, sir?  You tremble and look pale; for heaven’s sake think, ’Tis your own life you venture, if you kill him.

King. Had I ten thousand lives, I’ll venture all.  Give me way, madam!

Qu.  M. Not to your destruction.  The whole Parisian herd is at your gates; A crowd’s a name too small, they are a nation, Numberless, armed, enraged, one soul informs them.