Should cross my way. O jealousy of love!
Greater than fame! thou eldest of the passions,
Or rather all in one, I here invoke thee,
Where'er thou'rt throned in air, in earth, or hell,
Wing me to my revenge, to blood, and ruin!

_Card._ Have you no temper?

_Gui._ Pray, sir, give me leave.
A moment's thought;--ha, but I sweat and tremble,
My brain runs this and that way; it will not fix
On aught but vengeance.--Malicorn, call the people. [_Shouts within._
But hark, they shout again: I'll on and meet them;
Nay, head them to his palace, as my guards.
Yet more, on such exalted causes borne,
I'll wait him in his cabinet alone,
And look him pale; while in his courts without,
The people shout him dead with their alarms,
And make his mistress tremble in his arms. [_Exeunt._


SCENE II.

_Enter King and Council._ [_Shouts without._

_King._ What mean these shouts?

_Abb._ I told your majesty,
The sheriffs have puffed the populace with hopes
Of their deliverer. [_Shouts again._