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Guise. Oh! I've my death-wound ! give me leave to speak! 2 MURD. Then pray to God, and ask forgiveness of the king. Guise. Trouble me not, I ne'er offended him, Nor will I ask forgiveness of the king. Oh! that I have not power to stay my life, Nor immortality to be reveng'd : To die by peasants, what a grief is this? Ah! Sextus, be reveng'd upon the king ! Philip and Parma, I am slain for you! Pope, excommunicate Philip, depose The wicked branch of curst Valois's line. Vice la messe 1 perish Hugonots 1 Thus Caesar did go forth, and thus he dies. [Dies. Enter the CAPTAIN of the GUARD. CAP. What, have you done? Then stay awhile, and I'll go call the king ; But see where he comes.— Enter KING and EPER Nou N E. My lord, see where the Guise is slain. KING. Ah! this sweet sight is physic to my soul; Go, fetch his son for to behold his death.Surcharg’d with guilt of thousand massacres, Monsieur of Lorraine, sink away to hell, In just remembrance of those bloody broils, To which thou didst allure me being alive. And here, in presence of you all, I swear I ne'er was king of France until this hour. This is the traitor that hath spent my gold,
In making foreign wars, and cruel broils.
And that young cardinal that's grown so proud2
And let her grieve her heart out if she will.
Enter two MURDERERs, dragging in the CARDINAL CARD. Murder me not, I am a Cardinal. 1 Mu Rd. Wert thou the Pope, thou might'st not 'scape from us. CARD. What, will you 'file your hands with - church-men's blood? 2 MURD. Shed your blood? O Lord no; for we intend to strangle you. CARD. Then there's no remedy, but I must die. 1 MURD. No remedy; therefore prepare yourself. CARD. Yet lives my brother duke Dumaine, and many more, To 'venge our deaths upon that cursed king; Upon whose heart may all the furies gripe, And with their paws drench his black soul in hell.
1 MURD. Yours, my lord Cardinal, you should have said. [They strangle him. So pluck amain; he is hard-hearted; therefore pull with violence 1 Come, take him away. [Ereunt. Enter DUMAINE, reading a letter; with others. Du. My noble brother murder'd by the king 1 Oh! what may I do to revenge thy death? The king's alone it cannot satisfy. Sweet duke of Guise, our prop to lean upon, Now thou art dead, here is no stay for us. I am thy brother, and I'll revenge thy death, And root Valois's line from forth of France; And beat proud Bourbon to his native home, That basely seeks to join with such a king, Whose murd’rous thoughts will be his overthrow. He will'd the Governor of Orleans, in his name, That I with speed should have been put to death; But that's prevented for to end his life, And all those traitors to the church of Rome, That durst attempt to murder noble Guise. Enter a FRIAR. FRI. My lord, I come to bring you news that your brother the cardinal of Lorraine, by the king's consent, is lately strangled unto death. Du. My brother Cardinal slain, and I alive O words of pow'r to kill a thousand men Come, let's away, and levy men; "Tis war that must assuage the tyrant's pride. FRI. My lord, hear me but speak