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But he doth lurk within his drowsy couch,
Enter KING HENRY, GUISE, EPERNOUN, and JOYEUX.
Henry. My sweet Joyeux, I make thee general
Of all my army, now in readiness
To march 'gainst the rebellious King Navarre ;
Although my love to thee can hardly suffer['t],
Regarding still the danger of thy life.
Joyeux. Thanks to your majesty: and so, I take my leave.
Farewell to my Lord of Guise, and Epernoun.
Guise. Health and hearty farewell to my Lord Joyeux.
Henry. So kindly, cousin of Guise, you and your wife Do both salute our lovely minions.
Remember you the letter, gentle sir,
Which your wife writ
To my dear minion, and her chosen friend?
[Makes horns at GUISE
1 Scene: an apartment in the Louvre.
Guise. How now, my Lord! faith, this is more than
Am I thus to be jested at and scorn'd?
'Tis more than kingly or emperious :
And, sure, if all the proudest kings
In Christendom should bear me such derision,
They should know how I scorn'd them and their mocks. 20
I know none else but holds them in disgrace;
Par la mort de Dieu1 il mourra!
Henry. Believe me, this jest bites sore.
Eper. My lord, 'twere good to make them friends, 30 For his oaths are seldom spent in vain.
Henry. How now, Mugeroun ! mett'st thou not the Guise at the door?
Mug. Not I, my lord; what if I had?
Henry. Marry, if thou hadst, thou mightst have had the stab,
For he hath solemnly sworn thy death.
Mug. I may be stabb'd, and live till he be dead:
But wherefore bears he me such deadly hate?
Henry. Because his wife bears thee such kindly love.
1 Old ed. "mor du."
Mug. If that be all, the next time that I meet
I'll make her shake off love with her heels.
But which way is he gone? I'll go take1 a walk
Henry. I like not this. Come, Epernoun,
Alarums within, and a cry-" The DUKE JOYEUX is slain." Enter the KING OF NAVARRE, BARTUS, and train.
Nav. The duke is slain, and all his power dispers'd,
And we are graced with wreaths of victory.
Bar. The terror of this happy victory,
I hope, will make the king surcease his hate,
Or else employ them in some better cause.
Nav. How many noblemen have lost their lives
In prosecution of these cruel arms,
Is ruth, and almost death, to call to mind.
1 Old ed. "make."
2 Scene: near Coutras.
And with the Queen of England join my force
Enter1 a Soldier.
Sold. Sir, to you, sir, that dares make the duke a
1 Scene outside the Louvre.-In his Hist. of Eng. Dram. Poetry, iii. 134 (old ed.), Collier printed a portion (given below) of this scene from a fragment of a MS. copy. It will be seen that the printed text
was much mutilated.
"Enter a Souldier with a muskett.
Souldier. Now, sir, to you that dares make a duke a cuckolde, and use a counterfeyt key to his privye chamber: though you take out none but your owne treasure, yett you put in that displeases him, and fill up his rome that he shold occupye. Herein, sir, you forestalle the markett, and sett up your standinge where you shold not. will saye you leave him rome enoghe besides: that's no answere; he's to have the choyce of his owne freeland; yf it be not too free, there's the questione. Nowe, for where he is your landlorde, you take upon you to be his, and will needs enter by defaulte: what though you were once in possession, yett comminge upon you once unawares, he frayde you out againe; therefore your entrye is mere intrusione: this is against the law, sir: and though I come not to keepe possessione (as I wolde I might!), yet I come to keepe you out, sir.
You are wellcome, sir: have at you!
[He kills him.
Minion. Trayterouse Guise, ah, thou hast morthered me!
Guise. Hold the[e], tall soldier ! take the[e] this, and flye.
Thus fall, imperfett exhalatione,
cuckold, and use a counterfeit key to his privy-chamberdoor; and although you take out nothing but your own, yet you put in that which displeaseth him, and so forestall his market, and set up your standing where you should not; and whereas he is your landlord, you will take upon you to be his, and till the ground that he himself should occupy, which is his own free land; if it be not too free -there's the question; and though I come not to take possession (as I would I might !), yet I mean to keep you out; which I will, if this gear hold.
What, are ye come so soon? have at ye, sir!
[Shoots at MUGEROUN and kills him.1
A fyery meteor in the fermament:
Lye there, the kinge's delyght and Guise's scorne!
I did it onely in dispight of thee.
Fondlie hast thou incenste the Guise's sowle,
Mugeroun (Maugiron) fell in a duel: Anquetil, Hist. de France, t. v. 344, ed. 1817: but Saint-Mégrin, the gallant of the Duchess of Guise, was assassinated. 'Ils dressèrentu ne embuscade à la porte du Louvre. Comme Saint-Mégrin, en sortoit la nuit, des assassins apostés se jetèrent sur lui, et l'étendirent sur le pavé, percé de trente-cinq coups. Il vécut cependant jusqu'au lendemain.' Anquetil, Ibid. p. 347.”—Dyce.