Oh I could clasp thee, but that my arms are rough,
Till all thy sweets were broke with my embraces,
And kiss thy beauties to a dissolution!

_Mar._ Ah father, uncle, brother, all the kin,
The precious blood that's left me in the world,
Believe, dear sir, whate'er my actions seem,
I will not lose my virtue, for a throne.

_Gril._ Why, I will carve thee out a throne myself;
I'll hew down all the kings in Christendom,
And seat thee on their necks, as high as heaven.

_Enter Abbot_ DELBENE.

_Abb._ Colonel, your ear.

_Mar._ By these whispering councils,
My soul presages that the Guise is coming.
If he dares come, were I a man, a king,
I'd sacrifice him in the city's sight.--
O heavens! what was't I said? Were I a man,
I know not that; but, as I am a virgin,
If I would offer thee, too lovely Guise,
It should be kneeling to the throne of mercy.--
Ha! then thou lovest, that thou art thus concerned.
Down, rising mischief, down, or I will kill thee,
Even in thy cause, and strangle new-born pity!--
Yet if he were not married!--ha, what then?
His charms prevail;--no, let the rebel die.