_Julia._ [_Kneeling._] Sir! Ere I do meet my fate, upon my knees I make one poor request. This man, great sir! (Tho' now, there's reason why he knows me not,) I own doth touch me nearly.--I do owe him A debt of gratitude;--'twould shock me sore To see him in his agony;--so please you, Command, that, in the order of our deaths, I may precede him. _King._ Well;--so be it, then.-- Guards! lead them forth. _Julia._ And might he--oh, dread sir! Might he but live, I then should be at peace. _King._ Conduct them to their fate. _Julia._ [_Rises._] Then, ere we go, a word at parting;-- For here your spleen o'erleaps the bound of prudence. The blood you now would spill, is pure and noble; Nor will the shedding of it lack avengers. Shame on disguise! off with't, my lord! [_To RIBAUMONT._]--Behold Our France's foremost champion: and remember, In many a hardy fight, the gallant deeds (For fame has blown them loudly King!) of Ribaumont. Oft has he put you to't:--nay, late, at Cressy, Ask of your Black Prince Edward, there, how long Count Ribaumont and he were point to point. He has attack'd our foe; reliev'd our people; Succour'd our town, till cruel disappointment, Where he had fix'd his gallant heart, did turn him Wild with despairing love. Old John de Vienne Denied his daughter to him;--drove him hither, To meet your cruelty;--and now, that daughter, Grown desperate as he, doth brave it, King! And we will die together. [_Runs and embraces RIBAUMONT._ _Ribau._ Heaven!--my Julia! Art thou then true?--O give me utterance! Now, fortune, do thy worst!-- [_Throws off his Disguise._ You cannot, King! You dare not, for your life, lay savage hands On female innocence!--and, for myself, E'en use your will. [_KING descends from the Throne; HARCOURT kneels and offers his Arm; and the QUEEN descends, and goes opposite to the KING._ _King._ Lady, you are free:---- Our British Knights are famed for courtesy; And it will ne'er, I trust, be said an Englishman Denied protection to a woman. You Must, under guard, my lord! abide our pleasure:-- For the remainder, they have heard our will, And they must suffer: 'tis but fit we prove, Spite of their obstinate and close defence, Our English excellence.