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For this I wait, that scorn attendance else;

For this, my quenchless thirst, whereon I build,
Hath often pleaded kindred to the king;

For this, this head, this heart, this hand, and sword, 50
Contrives, imagines, and fully executes,

Matters of import aimèd at by many,

Yet understood by none;

For this, hath heaven engendered me of earth;
For this, this earth sustains my body's weight,
And with this weight I'll counterpoise a crown,
Or with seditions weary all the world;
For this, from Spain the stately Catholics
Send Indian gold to coin me French ecues;1
For this, have I a largess from the Pope,
A pension, and a dispensation too;
And by that privilege to work upon,
My policy hath fram'd religion.
Religion! O Diabole!

Fie, I am asham'd, however that I seem,
To think a word of such a simple sound,

Of so great matter should be made the ground!
The gentle king, whose pleasure uncontroll'd
Weakeneth his body, and will waste his realm,
If I repair not what he ruinates,2-

Him, as a child, I daily win with words,
So that for proof he barely bears the name;

I execute, and he sustains the blame.

1 Crowns.



2 This word occurs in 3 Henry VI., v. 1, and Titus Andronicus, v. 3 ; also in Shakespeare's Sonnets and Rape of Lucrece,

The Mother-Queen works wonders for my sake,
And in my love entombs the hope of France,
Rifling the bowels of her treasury,

To supply my wants and necessity.
Paris hath full five hundred colleges,
As monasteries, priories, abbeys, and halls,
Wherein are thirty thousand able men

Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholics :

And more, of my knowledge, in one cloister keep 1
Five hundred fat Franciscan friars and priests:

All this, and more, if more may be comprised,
To bring the will of our desires to end.
Then, Guise,

Since thou hast all the cards within thy hands,
To shuffle or cut, take this as surest thing,
That, right or wrong, thou deal thyself a king.-
I, but, Navarre,2-'tis but a nook of France,
Sufficient yet for such a petty king,

That, with a rabblement of his heretics,

Blinds Europe's eyes, and troubleth our estate.



Him will we [Pointing to his sword] but first let's follow

those in France

That hinder our possession to the crown.

As Cæsar to his soldiers, so say I,—

Those that hate me will I learn to loathe.
Give me a look, that, when I bend the brows,
Pale death may walk in furrows of my face;

A hand, that with a grasp may gripe the world;


1 Dwell. (In this sense the word "keep" is still used at Cambridge.)

2 Old ed. "Nauarre, Nauarre."

An ear to hear what my detractors say;

A royal seat, a sceptre, and a crown;


That those which do behold, they 1 may become
As men that stand and gaze against the sun.
The plot is laid, and things shall come to pass
Where resolution strives for victory.



Enter the KING OF NAVARRE,2 QUEEN MARGARET, the OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE, the PRINCE OF Condé, and the ADMIRAL; they are met by the Apothecary with the gloves, which he gives to the OLD QUEEN.

Apoth. Madam,

I beseech your grace to accept this simple gift. Old Q. of Nav. Thanks, my good friend. Hold, take thou this reward. [Gives a purse.

Apoth. I humbly thank your majesty. [Exit. Old Q. of Nav. Methinks the gloves have a very strong


The scent whereof doth make my head to ache.

Nav. Doth not your grace know the man that gave

them you?

Old Q. of Nav. Not well; but do remember such a


Adm. Your grace was ill-advised to take them, then, Considering of these dangerous times.

1 So old ed.-Dyce reads, "That those which do behold them." 2 Scene: a street.


Old Q. of Nav. Help, son Navarre! I am poisoned ! Mar. The heavens forbid your highness such mishap! Nav. The late suspicion of the Duke of Guise Might well have moved your highness to beware How you did meddle with such dangerous gifts. Mar. Too late it is, my lord, if that be true, To blame her highness; but I hope it be Only some natural passion makes her sick.

Old Q. of Nav. O no, sweet Margaret! the fatal poison Works within my head; my brain-pan breaks; My heart doth faint; I die!

Nav. My mother poisoned here before my face!

O gracious God, what times are these!

O grant, sweet God, my days may end with hers,

That I with her may die and live again!



Mar. Let not this heavy chance, my dearest lord (For whose effects my soul is massacrèd),

Infect thy gracious breast with fresh supply

To aggravate our sudden misery.

Adm. Come, my lords, let us bear her body hence, 30 And see it honoured with just solemnity.

[As they are going out, the Soldier dischargeth his musket at the ADMIRAL.

Con. What, are you hurt, my Lord High Admiral? Adm. I, my good lord, shot through the arm. Nav. We1 are betrayed! Come, my lords, And let us go tell the king of this.

1 Cunningham arranges ll. 34-5 thus:

"We are betrayed! come, my lords, and let us
Go tell the king of this."

Adm. These are

The cursed Guisians, that do seek our death.

O fatal was this marriage to us all!

[Exeunt, bearing out the body of the OLD QUEEN Of Navarre.



Cath. My noble son, and princely Duke of Guise,

Now have we got the fatal, straggling deer

Within the compass of a deadly toil,

And, as we late decreed, we may perform.

Char. Madam, it will be noted through the world
An action bloody and tyrannical;

Chiefly, since under safety of our word
They justly challenge their protection:
Besides, my heart relents that noblemen,

Only corrupted in religion,

Ladies of honour, knights, and gentlemen,

Should, for their conscience, taste such ruthless ends. Anj. Though gentle minds should pity others' pain, Yet will the wisest note their proper griefs,

And rather seek to scourge their enemies

Than be themselves base subjects to the whip.

Guise. Methinks my Lord Anjou hath well advised

1 Scene: an apartment in the Louvre.


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