_Enter_[424] DUMAINE, _reading a letter; with others._
_Dum._ My noble brother murder'd by the king!
O, what may I do for to revenge thy death?
The king's alone, it cannot satisfy.
Sweet Duke of Guise, our prop to lean upon,
Now thou art dead, here is no stay for us.
I am thy brother, and I'll revenge thy death,
And root Valois his line from forth of France;
And beat proud Bourbon to his native home,
That basely seeks to join with such a king,
Whose murderous thoughts will be his overthrow. 10
He will'd the governor of Orleans, in his name,
That I with speed should have been put to death;
But that's prevented, for to end his life,
And[425] all those traitors to the Church of Rome
That durst attempt to murder noble Guise.
_Enter_ Friar.
_Fri._ My lord, I come to bring you news that your
brother the Cardinal of Lorraine, by the king's consent,
is lately strangled unto death.
_Dum._ My brother Cardinal slain, and I alive!
O words of power to kill a thousand men!-- 20
Come, let us away, and levy men;
'Tis war that must assuage this tyrant's pride.
_Fri._ My lord, hear me but speak.
I am a friar of the order of the Jacobins,
That for my conscience' sake will kill the king.
_Dum._ But what doth move thee, above the rest, to do the deed?
_Fri._ O my lord, I have been a great sinner in my days!
and the deed is meritorious.
_Dum._ But how wilt thou get opportunity? 30
_Fri._ Tush, my lord, let me alone for that.
_Dum._ Friar, come with me;
We will go talk more of this within.
[_Exeunt._