yong, Or hath my love been so obscurde in thee, That others need to comment on my text? Is all my love forgot which helde thee deare? I, dearer then the apple of mine eye? Is Guises glory but a clowdy mist, In sight and judgement of thy lustfull eye? Mor du, were not the fruit within thy wombe, On whose encrease I set some longing hope:    This wrathfull hand should strike thee to the hart Hence strumpet, hide thy head for shame, And fly my presence if thou look'st to live. Exit [Duchesse]. O wicked sexe, perjured and unjust, Now doe I see that from the very first, Her eyes and lookes sow'd seeds of perjury, But villaine he to whom these lines should goe, Shall buy her love even with his dearest bloud. Exit. 

  

       [Scene xiv]     

         Enter the King of Navarre, Pleshe and Bartus, and their train, with drums and trumpets. NAVARRE. Now Lords, since in a quarrell just and right, We undertake to mannage these our warres Against the proud disturbers of the faith, I meane the Guise, the Pope, and King of Spaine, Who set themselves to tread us under foot, And rend our true religion from this land:    But for you know our quarrell is no more,    But to defend their strange inventions, Which they will put us to with sword and fire:    We must with resolute minces resolve to fight, In honor of our God and countries good. Spaine is the counsell chamber of the pope, Spaine is the place where he makes peace and warre, And Guise for Spaine hath now incenst the King, To send his power to meet us in the field. BARTUS. Then in this bloudy brunt they may beholde, The sole endevour of your princely care, To plant the true succession of the faith, In spite of Spaine and all his heresies. NAVARRE. The power of vengeance now implants it selfe, Upon the hauty mountains of my brest:    Plaies with her goary coulours of revenge, Whom I respect as leaves of boasting greene, That change their coulour when the winter comes, When I shall vaunt as victor in revenge. Enter a Messenger. How now sirra, what newes? MESSENGER. My Lord, as by our scoutes we understande, A mighty army comes from France with speed:    Which is already mustered in the land, And meanesto meet your highnes in the field. NAVARRE. In Gods name, let them come. This is the Guise that hath incenst the King, To leavy armes and make these civill broyles:    But canst thou tell me who is their generall? MESSENGER. Not yet my Lord, for thereon doe they stay:    But as report doth goe, the 

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