own body,--for I meddle not with your souls,--as to stand still like a
good Christian, and offer his weasand to a butcher's whittle,--I say
no more, but that he may be saved, and that's the best can come on
him. [_Cry on both sides,_ Vive le Roi,
vive Guise! _They fight._

_Mel._ Hey, for the duke of Guise, and property! Up with religion and
the cause, and down with those arbitrary rogues there! Stand to't, you
associated cuckolds. [_Citizens go back._] O rogues! O cowards!--Damn
these half-strained shopkeepers, got between gentlemen and city wives;
how naturally they quake, and run away from their own fathers! twenty
souls a penny were a dear bargain of them.
[_They all run off,_ MELANAX _with them;
the 1st and 2d Citizens taken._

_Gril._ Possess yourselves of the place, Maubert, and hang me up those
two rogues, for an example.

_1 Cit._ O spare me, sweet colonel; I am but a young beginner, and new
set up.

_Gril._ I'll be your customer, and set you up a little better,
sirrah;--go, hang him at the next sign-post:--What have you to say for
yourself, scoundrel? why were you a rebel?

_2 Cit._ Look you, colonel, 'twas out of no ill meaning to the
government; all that I did, was pure obedience to my wife.

_Gril._ Nay, if thou hast a wife that wears the breeches, thou shalt
be condemned to live: Get thee home for a hen-pecked traitor.--What,