But on second thought, he says, this ought not to move the citizens. He is much in the right; for the rabble scene was written on purpose to keep his party of them in the bounds of duty. It is the business of factious men to stir up the populace: Sir Edmond on horseback, attended by a swinging pope in effigy, and forty thousand true protestants for his guard to execution, are a show more proper for that design, than a thousand stage-plays[22].
Well, he has fortified his opinion with a reason, however, why the people should not be moved; “because I have so maliciously and mischievously represented the king, and the king’s son; nay, and his favourite,” saith he, “the duke too; to whom I give the worst strokes of my unlucky fancy.”
This need not be answered; for it is already manifest that neither the king, nor the king’s son, are represented; neither that son he means, nor any of the rest, God bless them all. What strokes of my unlucky fancy I have given to his royal highness, will be seen; and it will be seen also, who strikes him worst and most unluckily.
“The Duke of Guise,” he tells us, “ought to have represented a great prince, that had inserved to some most detestable villainy, to please the rage or lust of a tyrant; such great courtiers have been often sacrificed, to appease the furies of the tyrant’s guilty conscience; to expiate for his sin, and to attone the people. For a tyrant naturally stands in fear of such wicked ministers, is obnoxious to them, awed by them, and they drag him to greater evils, for their own impunity, than they perpetrated for his pleasure, and their own ambition[23].”
Sure, he said not all this for nothing. I would know of him, on what persons he would fix the sting of this sharp satire? What two they are, whom, to use his own words, he “so maliciously and mischievously would represent?” For my part, I dare not understand the villainy of his meaning; but somebody was to have been shown a tyrant, and some other “a great prince, inserving to some detestable villainy, and to that tyrant’s rage and lust;” this great prince or courtier ought to be sacrificed, to atone the people, and the tyrant is persuaded, for his own interest, to give him up to public justice. I say no more, but that he has studied the law to good purpose. He is dancing on the rope without a metaphor; his knowledge of the law is the staff that poizes him, and saves his neck. The party, indeed,