I have provoked my sovereign past a pardon,
It but remains to doubt if he dare kill me:
Then if he dares but to be just, I die.
'Tis too much odds against me; I'll depart,
And finish greatness at some safer time.
_Arch._ By heaven, 'tis Harry's plot to fright you hence,
That, coward-like, you might forsake your friends.
_Gui._ The devil foretold it dying Malicorn.
_Arch._ Yes, some court-devil, no doubt:
If you depart, consider, good my lord,
You are the master-spring that moves our fabric,
Which once removed, our motion is no more.
Without your presence, which buoys up our hearts,
The League will sink beneath a royal name;
The inevitable yoke prepared for kings
Will soon be shaken off; things done, repealed;
And things undone, past future means to do.
_Card._ I know not; I begin to taste his reasons.
_Arch._ Nay, were the danger certain of your stay,
An act so mean would lose you all your friends,
And leave you single to the tyrant's rage:
Then better 'tis to hazard life alone,
Than life, and friends, and reputation too.
_Gui._ Since more I am confirmed, I'll stand the shock.
Where'er he dares to call, I dare to go.
My friends are many, faithful, and united;
He will not venture on so rash a deed:
And now, I wonder I should fear that force,
Which I have used to conquer and contemn.
_Enter_ MARMOUTIERE.
_Arch._ Your tempter comes, perhaps, to turn the scale,
And warn you not to go.
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