_May._ All offices and dignities he gives To your profest and most inveterate foes; But if he were inclined, as we could wish him, There is a lady-regent at his ear, That never pardons. _Gui._ Poison on her name! Take my hand on't, that cormorant dowager Will never rest, till she has all our heads In her lap. I was at Bayonne with her, When she, the king, and grisly d'Alva met. Methinks, I see her listening now before me, Marking the very motion of his beard, His opening nostrils, and his dropping lids. I hear him croak too to the gaping council,-- Fish for the great fish, take no care for frogs, Cut off the poppy-heads, sir;--madam, charm The winds but fast, the billows will be still[3]. _May._ But, sir, how comes it you should be thus warm, Still pushing counsels when among your friends; Yet, at the court, cautious, and cold as age, Your voice, your eyes, your mien so different, You seem to me two men? _Gui._ The reason's plain. Hot with my friends, because, the question given, I start the judgment right, where others drag. This is the effect of equal elements, And atoms justly poised; nor should you wonder More at the strength of body than of mind; 'Tis equally the same to see me plunge Headlong into the Seine, all over armed, And plow against the torrent to my point, As 'twas to hear my judgment on the Germans, This to another man would be a brag; Or at the court among my enemies, To be, as I am here, quite off my guard, Would make me such another thing as Grillon, A blunt, hot, honest, downright, valiant fool. _May._ Yet this you must allow a failure in you,-- You love his niece; and to a politician All passion's bane, but love directly death. _Gui._ False, false, my Mayenne; thou'rt but half Guise again. Were she not such a wond'rous composition, A soul, so flushed as mine is with ambition, Sagacious and so nice, must have disdained her: But she was made when nature was in humour, As if a Grillon got her on the queen, Where all the honest atoms fought their way, Took a full tincture of the mother's wit, But left the dregs of wickedness behind. _May._ Have you not told her what we have in hand? _Gui._ My utmost aim has been to hide it from her, But there I'm short; by the long chain of causes She has scanned it, just as if she were my soul; And though I flew about with circumstances. Denials, oaths, improbabilities; Yet, through the histories of our lives, she looked, She saw, she overcame. _May._ Why then, we're all undone. _Gui._ Again you err. Chaste as she is, she would as soon give up Her honour, as betray me to the king: I tell thee, she's the character of heaven; Such an habitual over-womanly goodness, She dazzles, walks mere angel upon earth. But see, she comes; call the cardinal Guise, While Malicorn attends for some dispatches, Before I take my farewell of the court. [_Exit_ MAY. _Enter_ MARMOUTIERE. _Mar._ Ah Guise, you are undone! _Gui._ How, madam?