Richelieu: . 18 Richelieu ORLEANS (aside). Nay, Count,You may trust her; she doats on me; no houseSo safe as Marions, [At our statelier homesThe very walls do play the s not a sunbeam creeping oer our floorsBut seems a glance from that malignant eyeWhich reigns oer France; our fatal greatness livesIn the sharp glare of one relentless Richelieus self forgets to fear the swordThe myrtle hides; and Marions silken robeCasts its kind charity oer fiercer sinsThan those which haunt the rosy path betweenThe lip and eye of beauty. — Oh, no houseSo safe as Marions.] BARADAS.
Richelieu: . 18 Richelieu ORLEANS (aside). Nay, Count,You may trust her; she doats on me; no houseSo safe as Marions, [At our statelier homesThe very walls do play the s not a sunbeam creeping oer our floorsBut seems a glance from that malignant eyeWhich reigns oer France; our fatal greatness livesIn the sharp glare of one relentless Richelieus self forgets to fear the swordThe myrtle hides; and Marions silken robeCasts its kind charity oer fiercer sinsThan those which haunt the rosy path betweenThe lip and eye of beauty. — Oh, no houseSo safe as Marions.] BARADAS. Still, we have a oil and water — woman and a secret —Are hostile properties. ORLEANS. Well— Marion, seeHow the play prospers yonder. [Marion goes to the next table, looks on for a fewmoments, then exit. BARADAS (producing a parchment). I have nowAll the conditions drawn; it only needsOur signatures: upon receipt of this,. or, The Conspiracy. 19 (Whereto is joined the schedule of our treaty With the Count-Duke, the Richelieu of the Escurial), Bouillon will join his army with the Spaniard, March on to Paris,— there, dethrone the King: You will be Regent; I, and ye, my Lords, Form the new Council. So much for the core Of our great scheme. J- ORLEANS. But Richelieu is an Argus ;One of his hundred eyes will light upon us,And then — good-bye to life. BARADAS. To gain the prizeWe must destroy the Argus: — ay, my Lord,The scroll the core, but blood must fill the our design; — while this dispatched to Bouillon,Richelieu dispatched to Heaven ! — The last my here to-morrow night. You, Sir, as firstIn honour and in hope, meanwhile selectSome trusty knave to bear the scroll to Bouillon ;Midst Richelieus foes Til find some desperate handTo strike for vengeance, while we stride to power. be it ; — to-morrow, midnight. — Come, my Lords.[Exeunt Orleans, and the Courtiers in
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1896
