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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 uncontrould
Weakeneth his body, and will waste his realm,
If I repair not what he ruinates,
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.
The Mother Queen works wonders for my sake,
And in my love entombs the hope of France ;
Rifing the bowels of her treasury,
To supply my wants and necessity.
Paris hath full five hundred colleges,
As monasteries, priories, abbeys, and balls,
Wherein are thirty thousand able men,
Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholics:
And
more,-of

my knowledge, in one cloister keep
Five hundred fat Franciscan friars and priests.
All this, and more, if more may be compris’d,
To bring the will of our desires to end.
Then, Guise, since thou hast all the cards
Within thy hands, to shufe or to cut,
Take this as surest thing,
That, right or wrong, thou deal thyself a king.--
Aye, but Navarre,—'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; An ear to hear what my detractors say; A royal seat, a sceptre, and a crown, That those which do behold them, 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.

[Exit.

SCENE IIJ.
Enter the King of NAVARRE, MARGARET, the Old

QUEEN of NAVARRE, the PRINCE of CONDE,
the LORD High ADMIRAL, and the Apothe-
CARY, with the gloves, which he gives to the Old
Queen.
APOTH. Madam, I beseech your grace to accept

this simple gift.
OLD Queen, Thanks, my good friend; hold, take

thou this reward. APOTH. I humbly thank your majesty. (Exit OLD QUEEN. Methinks the gloves have a very

strong perfume, The scent whereof doth make my head to ache.

Nav. Doth not your grace know the man that

gave them you? Old Queen. Not well, but do remember such a

man.

Adm. Your grace was ill-advis’d to take them,

then, Considering of these dangerous times.

OLD Queen. Help, son Navarre! I am poison'd!
Mar. The heavens forbid your highness such

mishap!
Nav. The late suspicion of the duke of Guise,
Might well have mov'd your highness to beware
How you did meddle with such dang'rous gifts.

Mar. Too late it is, my lord, if that be true,
To blame her highness; but I hope it be
Only some nat'ral passion makes her sick.
OLD Queen. Oh! no, sweet Margaret; the

fatal poison Doth work within my heart; my brain-pan breaks; My heart doth faint; I die!

[Dies. Nav. My mother poison'd here before my face! Oh! gracious God, what times are these. Oh, 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 massacred) Infect thy gracious breast with fresh supply, To aggravate our sudden misery.

Adm. Come, my lords, let us bear her body hence,

And see it honoured with just solemnity.

As they are going, the Soldier discharges his

musket at the Admiral. Con. What, are you hurt, my Lord High Admiral ? ADM. Aye, my good lord, shot through the arm.

Nav. We are betrayed! come, my lords, And let us go tell the king of this. Ad». These are the cursed Guisians, that do seek

our death. Oh! fatal was this marriage to us all !

[They bear away the Queen, and Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Enter King CHARLES, QUEEN Mother, Guise,

Anjou, and DUMAINE. Q. Mo. 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 perforni. 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 rélents that noble men, Only corrupted in religion, Ladies of honour, knights, and gentlemen, Should, for their conscience, taste such ruthless ends.

Ang. Though gentle minds should pity other's

pains,
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 advis'd
Your highness to consider of the thing;
And rather chuse to seek your country's good,
Than pity or relieve these upstart heretics.
Q. Mo. I hope these reasons may serve my

princely son To have some care for fear of enemies.

Char. Well, madam, I refer it to your majesty, And to my nephew here, the Duke of Guise: What you determine, I will ratify. . Q. Mo. Thanks to my princely son. Then tell

me, Guise, What order will you set down for the massacre ?

GUISH. Thus, madam :They that shall be actors in this massacre, Shall wear white crosses on their burgonets, And tie white linen scarfs about their arms. He that wants these, and is suspect of heresy, Shall die, or be he king or emperor. Then I'll have a peal of ordnance shot from the

tower, At which they all shall issue out, and 'set the streets; And then, the watch-word being given, a bell shall

ring,

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