Bar. Then hath your grace fit opportunity To show your love unto the king of France, Offering him aid against his enemies, Which cannot but be thankfully receiv'd.
Nav. Bartus, it shall be so: post, then, to France, And there salute his highness in our name; Assure him all the aid we can provide10 Against the Guisians and their complices. Bartus, be gone: commend me to his grace, And tell him, ere it be long, I'll visit him.
Bar. I will, my lord. [Exit.
Nav. Pleshè!
Enter Pleshè.
Pleshè. My lord?
Nav. Pleshè, go muster up our men with speed, And let them march away to France amain, For we must aid the king against the Guise. Begone, I say; 'tis time that we were there.20
Pleshè. I go, my lord. [Exit.
Nav. That wicked Guise, I fear me much, will be The ruin of that famous realm of France; For his aspiring thoughts aim at the crown, And [417] takes his vantage on religion, To plant the Pope and Popelings in the realm, And bind it wholly to the see of Rome. But, if that God do prosper mine attempts, And send us safely to arrive in France, We'll beat him back, and drive him to his death,30 That basely seeks the ruin of his realm. [Exit.