Ay, madam, 'tis the sword
You buckled on with your own hand, the day
You sent me forth to conquer in your cause;
And there it is;--(_breaks the sword_)--take it--and with it all
Th' allegiance that I owe to France; ay take it;
And with it, take the hope I breathe o'er it:
That so, before Colonna's host, your arms
Lie crush'd and sullied with dishonour's stain;
So, reft in sunder by contending factions,
Be your Italian provinces; so torn
By discord and dissension this vast empire;
So broken and disjoin'd your subjects' loves;
So fallen your son's ambition, and your pride.

QUEEN (_rising_.)

What ho--a guard within there--Charles of Bourbon,
I do arrest thee, traitor to the crown.

_Enter Guard_.

Away with yonder wide-mouth'd thunderer;
We'll try if gyves and straight confinement cannot
Check this high eloquence, and cool the brain
Which harbours such unmannerd hopes.
[Bourbon _is forced out_.
Dream ye, my lords, that thus with open ears,
And gaping mouths and eyes, ye sit and drink
This curbless torrent of rebellious madness.
And you, sir, are you slumbering on your throne;