May. ’Tis rightly judged: 
And, let me add, who heads a popular cause,
Must prosecute that cause by popular ways: 
So, whether you are merciful or no,
You must affect to be.

Gui. Dismiss those prisoners.—­Grillon, you are free; I do not ask your love, be still my foe.

Gril. I will be so:  but let me tell you, Guise,
As this was greatly done, ’twas proudly too: 
I’ll give you back your life when next we meet;
’Till then I am your debtor.

Gui. That’s till dooms-day. [GRILLON and his Party exeunt
                                         one way, Rabble the other.
Haste, brother, draw out fifteen thousand men,
Surround the Louvre, lest the prey should ’scape. 
I know the king will send to treat;
We’ll set the dice on him in high demands,
No less than all his offices of trust;
He shall be pared, and cantoned out, and clipped
So long, he shall not pass.

Card. What! do we talk
Of paring, clipping, and such tedious work,
Like those that hang their noses o’er a potion,
And qualm, and keck, and take it down by sips!

Arch. Best make advantage of this popular rage,
Let in the o’erwhelming tide on Harry’s head;
In that promiscuous fury, who shall know,
Among a thousand swords, who killed the king?

Mal. O my dear lord, upon this only day
Depends the series of your following fate: 
Think your good genius has assumed my shape,
In this prophetic doom.

Gui. Peace, croaking raven!—­
I’ll seize him first, then make him a led monarch;
I’ll be declared lieutenant-general
Amidst the three estates, that represent
The glorious, full, majestic face of France,
Which, in his own despite, the king shall call: 
So let him reign my tenant during life,
His brother of Navarre shut out for ever,
Branded with heresy, and barred from sway;
That, when Valois consumed in ashes lies,
The Phoenix race of Charlemain may rise. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.—­The Louvre.

  Enter King, Queen-Mother, Abbot, and GRILLON.

King. Dismissed with such contempt?

Gril. Yes, ’faith, we past like beaten Romans underneath the fork.

King. Give me my arms.

Gril. For what?

King. I’ll lead you on.

Gril. You are a true lion, but my men are sheep; If you run first, I’ll swear they’ll follow you.

King. What, all turned cowards? not a man in France Dares set his foot by mine, and perish by me?

Gril. Troth, I can’t find them much inclined to perishing.

King. What can be left in danger, but to dare?  No matter for my arms, I’ll go barefaced, And seize the first bold rebel that I meet.

Abb. There’s something of divinity in kings, That sits between their eyes, and guards their life.