Stood next the shining throne, and winked but half; That I could bear it, and stared farther in; Mal. Not so; I preached on purpose To make thee lose this moment of thy prayer. [A flash of lightning, they sink together. SCENE III.Enter Duke of GUISE; Cardinal, and AUMALE. Card. A dreadful message from a dying man, A prophesy indeed! For souls, just quitting earth, peep into heaven, Make swift acquaintance with their kindred forms, 111 And partners of immortal secrets grow. Aum. "Tis good to lean on the securer side: When life depends, the mighty stake is such, Fools fear too little, and they dare too much. Enter Arch-Bishop. Gui. You have prevailed, I will not go to council. I have provoked my sovereign past a pardon, It but remains to doubt if he dare kill me: Then if he dares but to be just, I die. 'Tis too much odds against me; I'll depart, And finish greatness at some safer time. Arch. By heaven, 'tis Harry's plot to fright you hence, your friends. That, coward-like, you might forsake Gui. The devil foretold it dying Malicorn. Arch. Yes, some court-devil, no doubt: If you depart, consider, good my lord, You are the master-spring that moves our fabric, Will soon be shaken off; things done, repealed; Gui. Since more I am confirmed, I'll stand the shock. Enter MARMOUTIERE. Arch. Your tempter comes, perhaps, to turn the scale, And warn you not to go. Gui. O fear her not, I will be there. [Exeunt Arch-Bishop and Cardinal. What can she mean?-repent? Or is it cast betwixt the king and her To sound me? come what will, it warms my heart With secret joy, which these my ominous statesmen Left dead within me;-ha! she turns away. Mar. Do you not wonder at this visit, sir ? Why came that sigh uncalled? For love of me, As if scorned that I should know your purpose. Gui. The king's at Blois, and you have reason for it; Therefore, what am I to expect from pity, From yours, yours, I mean,-when you behold me slain ? Mar. First answer me, and then I'll speak my heart. Have you, O Guise, since your last solemn oath, Stood firm to what you swore? Be plain, my lord, Or run it o'er a while, because again I tell you, I must never see you more. Gui. Never !She's set on by the king to sift me. Why, by that never then, all I have sworn Mar. Keep your obedience,-by the saints, you live. Gui. Then mark; 'tis judged by heads grown white in council, This very day he means to cut me off. Mar. By heaven, then you're forsworn; you've broke your vows. Gui. By you, the justice of the earth, I have not, Mar. By you, dissembler of the world, you have. I know the king. Gui. I do believe you, madam. Mar. I have tried you both. Gui. Not me, the king you mean. Mar. Do these o'erboiling answers suit the Guise? But go to council, sir, there shew your truth; If you are innocent, you're safe; but O, If I should chance to see you stretched along, Your love, O Guise, and your ambition gone, That venerable aspect pale with death, I must conclude you merited your end. Gui. You must, you will, and smile upon my mur der. Mar. Therefore, if you are conscious of a breach, Confess it to me. Lead me to the king; He has promised me to conquer his revenge, But speak your heart, and O resolve me truly! You saw but now my parting with my brother, Gui. True; but in spite Of those imperial arguments they urged, I was not to be worked from second thought: Why heaves my heart, and overflow my eyes? Gui. O say not so, for once again I'll see you. Were you this very night to lodge with angels, Yet say not never; for I hope by virtue To merit heaven, and wed you late in glory. Mar. This night, my lord, I'm a recluse for ever. Gui. Ha! stay till morning: tapers are too dim; Stay till the sun rises to salute you; Stay till I lead you to that dismal den Of virgins buried quick, and stay for ever. Mar. Alas! your suit is vain, for I have vowed it: Nor was there any other way to clear The imputed stains of my suspected honour. Gui. Hear me a word!--one sigh, one tear, at parting, And one last look; for, O my earthly saint, At Adam's fall. Mar. O heaven! I now confess, My heart bleeds for thee, Guise. Gui. Why, madam, why? Mar. Because by this disorder, And that sad fate that bodes upon your brow, Gui. Without an oath I do; therefore have mercy, And think not death could make me tremble thus: Be pitiful to those infirmities Which thus unman me; stay till the council's over; If you are pleased to grant an hour or two |