_Henry._ Hands off, good fellow; I will be his bail For this offence.--Go, sirrah, work no more Till this our coronation day be past.-- And now, Our solemn rites of coronation done, What now remains but for a while to feast, 40 And spend some days in barriers, tourney, tilt, And like disports, such as do fit the court? Let's go, my lords; our dinner stays for us. [_Exeunt all except_ CATHERINE _the Queen Mother and the_ CARDINAL OF LORRAINE. _Cath._ My Lord Cardinal of Lorraine, tell me, How likes your grace my son's pleasantness? His mind, you see, runs on his minions, And all his heaven is to delight himself; And, whilst he sleeps securely thus in ease, Thy brother Guise and we may now provide To plant ourselves with such authority 50 As not a man may live without our leaves. Then shall the Catholic faith of Rome Flourish in France, and none deny the same. _Card._ Madam, as in secrecy I was told, My brother Guise hath gather'd a power of men, Which are,[400] he saith, to kill the Puritans; But 'tis the house of Bourbon that he means. Now, madam, must you insinuate with the king, And tell him that 'tis for his country's good, And common profit of religion. 60 _Cath._ Tush, man, let me alone with him, To work the way to bring this thing to pass; And, if he do deny what I do say, I'll despatch him with his brother presently, And then shall Monsieur wear the diadem. Tush, all shall die unless I have my will; For, while she lives, Catherine will be queen. Come, my lord,[401] let us go seek the Guise, And then determine of this enterprise. [_Exeunt._ SCENE XV. _Enter_[402] _the_ DUCHESS OF GUISE _and her_ Maid. _Duch. of G._ Go fetch me pen and ink,-- _Maid._ I will, madam. _Duch._ That I may write unto my dearest lord. [_Exit_ Maid. Sweet Mugeroun,[403] 'tis he that hath my heart, And Guise usurps it 'cause I am his wife. Fain would I find some means to speak with him, But cannot, and therefore am enforced to write, That he may come and meet me in some place, Where we may one enjoy the other's sight. _Re-enter the_ Maid, _with pen, ink, and paper_. So, set it down, and leave me to myself. [_Exit_ Maid. _The_ DUCHESS _writes_. O, would to God, this quill that here doth write 10 Had late been pluck'd from out fair Cupid's wing, That it might print these lines within his heart! _Enter_ GUISE. _Guise._ What, all alone, my love? and writing too? I prithee, say to whom thou writ'st.