Henry. Nay, he was king, and countermanded me: But now I will be king, and rule myself, And make the Guisians stoop that are alive.
Cath. I cannot speak for grief.—When thou wast born, I would that I had murdered thee, my son! My son? thou art a changeling, not my son: I curse thee, and exclaim thee miscreant, Traitor to God and to the realm of France!
Henry. Cry out, exclaim, howl till thy throat be hoarse! The Guise is slain, and I rejoice therefore:150 And now will I to arms.—Come, Epernoun, And let her grieve her heart out, if she will. [Exit with Epernoun.
Cath.. Away! leave me alone to meditate. [Exeunt Attendants. Sweet Guise, would he had died, so thou wert here! To whom shall I bewray my secrets now, Or who will help to build religion? The Protestants will glory and insult; Wicked Navarre will get the crown of France; The Popedom cannot stand; all goes to wreck; And all for thee, my Guise! What may I do?160 But sorrow seize upon my toiling soul! For, since the Guise is dead, I will not live. [Exit.
SCENE XXII.
Enter [423] two Murderers, dragging in the Cardinal.
Card. Murder me not; I am a cardinal.
First Murd. Wert thou the Pope thou might'st not scape from us.
Card. What, will you file your hands with churchmen's blood?
Sec. Murd. Shed your blood! O Lord, no! for we intend to strangle you.