my Lords, our dinner staies for us. Goe out all, but the Queene [Mother] and the Cardinall. QUEENE MOTHER. My Lord Cardinall of Loraine, tell me, How likes your grace my sonnes pleasantnes? His mince you see runnes on his minions, And all his heaven is to delight himselfe:    And whilste he sleepes securely thus in ease, Thy brother Guise and we may now provide, To plant our selves with such authoritie, That not a man may live without our leaves. Then shall the Catholick faith of Rome, Flourish in France, and none deny the same. Cardinall Madam, as I in secresy was tolde, My brother Guise hath gathered a power of men, Which are he saith, to kill the Puritans, But tis the house of Burbon that he meanest Now Madam must you insinuate with the King, And tell him that tis for his Countries good, And common profit of Religion. QUEENE MOTHER. Tush man, let me alone with him, To work the way to bring this thing to passe:    And if he doe deny what I doe say, Ile dispatch him with his brother presently. And then shall Mounser weare the diadem. Tush, all shall dye unles I have my will:    For while she lives Katherine will be Queene. Come my Lord, let us goe to seek the Guise, And then determine of this enterprise. Exeunt. 

  

       [Scene xiii]     

         Enter the Duchesse of Guise, and her Maide. DUCHESSE. Goe fetch me pen and inke. MAID. I will Madam. Exit Maid. DUCHESSE. That I may write unto my dearest Lord. Sweet Mugeroune, tis he that hath my heart, And Guise usurpes it, cause I am his wife:    Faine would I finde some means to speak with him But cannot, and therfore am enforst to write, That he may come and meet me in some place, Where we may one injoy the others sight. Enter the Maid with Inke and Paper. So, set it down and leave me to my selfe. O would to God this quill that heere doth write,          She writes. Had late been plucks from out faire Cupids wing:    That it might print these lines within his heart. Enter the Guise. GUISE. What, all alone my love, and writing too:    I prethee say to whome thou writes? DUCHESSE. To such a one, as when she reads my lines, Will laugh I feare me at their good aray. GUISE. I pray thee let me see. DUCHESSE. O no my Lord, a woman only must Partake the secrets of my heart. GUISE. But Madam I must see. He takes it. Are these your secrets that no man must know? DUCHESSE. O pardon me my Lord. GUISE. Thou trothles and unjust, what lines are these? Am I growne olde, or is thy lust growne 

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