_Mar._ By heaven, that gave those arms success, I swear I do not, as you think! but take it all. I have heard the Guise, not with an angel's temper, Something beyond the tenderness of pity, And yet, not love. Now, by the powers that framed me, this is all! Nor should the world have wrought this close confession, But to rebate your jealousy of honour. _Gril._ I know not what to say, nor what to think; There's heaven still in thy voice, but that's a sign Virtue's departing; for thy better angel Still makes the woman's tongue his rising ground, Wags there a while, and takes his flight for ever. _Mar._ You must not go. _Gril._ Though I have reason, plain As day, to judge thee false, I think thee true: By heaven, methinks I see a glory round thee! There's something says, thou wilt not lose thy honour:-- Death and the devil! that's my own honesty; My foolish open nature, that would have All like myself;--but off; I'll hence and curse thee! _Mar._ O, stay! _Gril._ I will not. _Mar._ Hark! the king's coming. Let me conjure you, for your own soul's quiet, And for the everlasting rest of mine, Stir not, till you have heard my heart's design. _Gril._ Angel, or devil, I will.--Nay, at this rate, She'll make me shortly bring him to her bed.-- Bawd for him? no, he shall make me run my head Into a cannon, when 'tis firing, first; That's honourable sport. But I'll retire, And if she plays me false, here's that shall mend her. [_Touching his Dagger, exit._ MARMOUTIERE _sits. Song and Dance._ _Enter the King._ _King._ After the breathing of a love-sick heart Upon your hand, once more,--nay twice,--forgive me. _Mar._ I discompose you, sir. _King._ Thou dost, by heaven; But with such charming pleasure, I love, and tremble, as at angels' view. _Mar._ Love me, my lord? _King._ Who should be loved, but you? So loved, that even my crown, and self are vile, While you are by. Try me upon despair; My kingdom at the stake, ambition starved, Revenge forgot, and all great appetites That whet uncommon spirits to aspire, So once a day I may have leave-- Nay, madam, then you fear me. _Mar._ Fear you, sir! what is there dreadful in you? You've all the graces that can crown mankind; Yet wear them so, as if you did not know them; So stainless, fearless, free in all your actions, As if heaven lent you to the world to pattern. _King._ Madam, I find you are no petitioner; My people would not treat me in this sort, Though 'twere to gain a part of their design; But to the Guise they deal their faithless praise As fast, as you your flattery to me; Though for what end I cannot guess, except You come, like them, to mock at my misfortunes. _Mar._ Forgive you, heaven, that thought! No, mighty monarch, The love of all the good, and wonder of the great; I swear, by heaven, my heart adores, and loves you. _King._ O madam, rise.