The massacre at Paris with the death of the Duke of Guise. As it was plaide by the right honourable the Lord high Admirall his Seruants. Written by Christopher Marlow.
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- Title
- The massacre at Paris with the death of the Duke of Guise. As it was plaide by the right honourable the Lord high Admirall his Seruants. Written by Christopher Marlow.
- Author
- Marlowe, Christopher, 1564-1593.
- Publication
- At London :: Printed by E[dward] A[llde] for Edward White, dwelling neere the little north doore of S. Paules Church, at the signe of the Gun,
- [1594?]
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- Subject terms
- Guise, Henri, -- duc de, 1550-1588 -- Drama.
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http://name.umdl.umich.edu/a07003.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"The massacre at Paris with the death of the Duke of Guise. As it was plaide by the right honourable the Lord high Admirall his Seruants. Written by Christopher Marlow." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/a07003.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 20, 2025.
Pages
Page [unnumbered]
THE MASSACRE AT PARIS. VVith the Death of the Duke of Guise.
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The many fauours which your grace hath showne,
From time to time, but specially in this: Shall binde me euer to your highnes will, In what Queen Mother or your grace commands.Thanks sonne Nauarre, you see we loue you well,
That linke you in mariage with our daughter heer: And as you know our difference in Religion, Might be a meanes to crosse you in your loue.With hearing of a holy Masse: Sister, I think your selfe will beare vs company.
The rest that will not goe (my Lords) may stay:
Come Mother let vs goe to honor this solemnitie.Page [unnumbered]
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I am my Lord, in what your grace commaundes till death.
Now come thou forth and play thy tragick part.
Stand in some window opening neere the street,Page [unnumbered]
Now Guise begins those deepe ingendred thoughts,
To burst abroad those neuer dying flames, Which cannot be extinguisht but by bloud. Oft haue I leueld, and at last haue learnd, That perill is the cheefest way to happines, And resolution honors fairest aime. What glory is there in a common good, That hanges for euery peasant to atchiue? That like I best that flyes beyond my reach, Set me to scale the high Peramides, And thereon set the Dradem of Fraunce, Ile either rend it with my nayles to naught, Or mount the top with my aspiring winges, Although my downfall be the deepest hell. For this, I wake, when others think I sleepe, For this, I waite, that scornes attendance else: For this, my quenchles thirst whereon I builde, Hath often pleaded kindred to the King. For this, this head, this heart, this hand and sworde, Contriues, imagines and fully executes, Matters of importe, aimde at by many, Yet vnderstoode by none. For this, hath heauen engendred me of earth, For this, this earth sustaines my bodies waight, And with this wiat Ile counterpoise a Crowne,Page [unnumbered]
The Mother Queene workes wonders for my sake,
And in my loue entombes the hope of Fraunce: Rifling the bowels of her treasurie, To supply my wants and necessitie. Paris hath full fiue hundred Colledges, As Monestaries, Priories, Abbyes and halles, Wherein are thirtie thousand able men, Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholicks, And more of my knowledge in one cloyster keeps, Fiue hundred fatte Franciscan Fryers and priestes. All this and more, if more may be comprisde, To bring the will of our desires to end.Page [unnumbered]
Within thy hands to shuffle or cut, take this as surest thing:
That right or wrong, thou deale thy selfe a King. I but, Nauarre, Nauarre, tis but a nook of France, Sufficient yet for such a pettie King: That with a rablement of his hereticks, Blindes Europs eyes and troubleth our estate: Him will weMaddame, I beseech your grace to except this simple gift.
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Thanks my good freend, holde take thou this reward.
Me thinkes the gloues haue a very strong perfume,
The sent whereof doth make my head to ake.The heauens forbid your highnes such mishap.
My Mother poysoned heere before my face:
O gracious God, what times are these? O graunt sweet God my daies may end with hers, That I with her may dye and liue againe.Let not this heauy chaunce my dearest Lord,
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VVe are betraide come my Lords, and let vs goe tell the King of this.
These are the cursed Guisians that doe seeke our death.
Oh fatall was this mariage to vs all.Page [unnumbered]
Knightes and Gentlemen, should for their con∣science taste such rutheles ends.
Though gentle mindes should pittie others paines,
Yet will the wisest note their proper greefes: And rather seeke to scourge their enemies, Then be themselues base subiects to the whip.Me thinkes my Lord, Anioy hath well aduisde,
Your highnes to consider of the thing, And rather chuse to seck your countries good, Then pittie or releeue these vp start hereticks.I hope these reasons may serue my princely Sonne,
To haue some care for feare of enemies:Thankes to my princely sonne, then tell me Guise,
What order wil you set downe for the Massacre?Then Ile haue a peale of ordinance shot from the tower,
At which they all shall issue out and set the streetes.Page [unnumbered]
And then the watchword being giuen, a bell shall ring,
Which when they heare, they shall begin to kill: And neuer cease vntill that bell shall cease, Then breath a while.And it please your grace the Lord high Admirall,
Riding the streetes was traiterously shot, And most humble intreates your Maiestie To vifite him sick in his bed.Page [unnumbered]
I am disguisde and none knows who I am.
And therfore meane to murder all I meet.The Admirall cheefe standard bearer to the Lutheranes,
Shall in the entrance of this Massacre,Page [unnumbered]
Be murdered in his bed. Gonzago conduct them thither,
And then beset his house that not a man may liue.That charge is mine, Swizers keepe you the streetes,
And at ech corner shall the Kings garde stand.Cosin, the Captaine of the Admirals guarde,
Plac'd by my brother, will betray his Lord: Now Guise shall catholiques flourish once againe, The head being of, the members cannot stand.But look my Lord, ther's some in the Admirals house.
Now cosin view him well, it may be it is some other, and he escapte.
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Ah base Shatillian and degenerate, cheef standard bearer to the Lutheranes,
Thus in despite of thy Religion, The Duke of Guise stampes on thy liueles bulke.A way with him, cut of his head and handes.
And send them for a present to the Pope: And when this iust reuenge is finished, Vnto mount Faucon will we dragge his coarse: And he that liuing hated so the crosse, Shall being dead, be hangd thereon in chaines.I sweare by this crosse, wee'l not be partiall,
But slay as many as we can come neer.And now my Lords let vs closely to our busines.
And so will Dumaine.
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Tue tue, tue, let none escape, murder the Hugonets.
Are you a preacher of these heresies?
Dearely beloued brother, thus tis written.
Stay my Lord, let me begin the psalme.
Come dragge him away and throw him in a ditch.
Husband come down, heer's one would speak with you from the Duke of Guise.
I, I, for this Seroune, and thou shalt hate.
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Christ, villaine, why darst thou presume to call on Christ, without the intercession of some Saint? Sancta Iacobus hee was my Saint, pray to him.
What fearfull cries comes from the riuer Rene,
That frightes poore Ramus sitting at his book? I feare the Guisians haue past the bridge, And meane once more to menace me.The Guisians are hard at thy doore, and meane to murder vs: harke, harke they come, Ile leap out at the window.
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Come Ramus, more golde, or thou shalt haue the stabbe.
Alas I am a scholler, how should I haue golde?
All that I haue is but my stipend from the King, Which is no sooner receiu'd but it is spent.O good my Lord, wherein hath Ramus been so offencious.
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Well, say on.
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Tis well aduisde Dumain, goe see it strait be done.
And in the mean time my Lord, could we deuise, To get those pedantes from the King Nauarre, that are tutors to him and the prince of Condy.Come sirs, Ile whip you to death with my punniards point.
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All this and more your highnes shall commaund,
For Polands crowne and kingly diadem.Now sirra, what shall we doe with the Admirall?
O no, his bodye will infect the fire, and the fire the aire, and so we shall be poysoned with him.
Oh twill corrupt the water, and the water the fish, and by the fish our selues when we cate them.
No, no, to decide all doubts, be rulde by me, lets hang him heere vpon this tree.
Now Madame, how like you our lusty Admirall?
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Beleeue me Guise he becomes the place so well,
As I could long ere this haue wisht him there. But come lets walke aside, thair's not very sweet.And disperse themselues throughout the Realme of France,
It will be hard for vs to worke their deaths. Be gone, delay no time sweet Guise.Madam, I goe as whirl-windes rage before a storme,
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O Mounser de Guise, heare me but speake.
Comfort your selfe my Lord and haue no doubt,
But God will sure restore you to your health.Page [unnumbered]
God graunt my neerest freends may proue no worse.
O holde me vp, my sight begins to faile,My sinnewes shrinke, my braines turne vpside downe,
My heart doth break, I faint and dye.What art thou dead, sweet sonne speak to thy Mother,
O no, his soule is fled from out his breast, And he nor heares, nor sees vs what we doe: My Lords, what resteth there now for to be done? But that we presently despatch Embassadours To Poland, to call Henry back againe, To weare his brothers crowne and dignity. Epernoune, goe see it presently be done, And bid him come without delay to vs.And now my Lords after these funerals be done,
We will with all the speed we can prouide, For Henries coronation from Polonie: Come let vs take his body hence.And now Nauarre whilste that these broiles doe last,
My opportunity may serue me fit, To steale from France, and hye me to my home.Page [unnumbered]
Truth Pleshe, and God so prosper me in all,
As I entend to labour for the truth, And true profession of his holy word: Come Pleshe, lets away whilste time doth serue,Page [unnumbered]
Thanks to you al. The guider of all crownes,
Graunt that our deeds may wel deserue your loues: And so they shall, if fortune speed my will, And yeeld your thoughts to height of my desertes. What saies our Minions, think they Henries heart Will not both harbour loue and Maiestie? Put of that feare, they are already ioynde, No person, place, or time, or circumstance, Shall slacke my loues affection from his bent, As now you are, so shall you still persist, Remooueles from the fauours of your King.We know that noble mindes change not their thoughts
For wearing of a crowne: in that your grace, Hath worne the Poland diadem, before you were inuested in the crowne of France:Then may it please your Maiestie to giue me leaue,
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Come sir, giue me my buttons and heers your eare.
Hands of good sellow, I will be his baile
For this offence: goe sirra, worke no more, Till this our Coronation day be past: And now our solemne rites of Coronation done, What now remaines, but for a while to feast, And spend some daies in barriers, tourny, tylte, and like disportes, such as doe fit the Court? Lets goe my Lords, our dinner staies for vs.Page [unnumbered]
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Thou trothles and vniust, what lines are these?
Am I growne olde, or is thy lust growne yong, Or hath my loue been so obscurde in thee, That others needs to comment on my text? Isall my loue forgot which helde thee deare? I, dearer then the apple of mine eye? Is Guises glory but a clowdy mist, In sight and iudgement of thy lustfull eye? Mor du, wert not the fruit within thy wombe, Of whose encrease I set some longing hope: This wrathfull hand should strike thee to the hart. Hence strumpet, hide thy head for shame, And fly my presence if thou looke to liue.Page [unnumbered]
Spaine is the place where he makes peace and warre,
And Guise for Spaine hath now incenst the King, To send his power to meet vs in the field.Then in this bloudy brunt they may beholde,
The sole endeuour of your princely care,
To plant the true succession of the faith, In spite of Spaine and all his heresies.Page [unnumbered]
The power of vengeance now incampes it selfe,
Vpon the hauty mountains of my brest: plaies with her goary coulours of reuenge, Whom I respect as leaues of boasting greene, That change their coulour when the winter comes, When I shall vaunt as victor in reuenge.My Lord, as by our scoutes we vnder∣stande,
A mighty army comes from France with speed: Which are already mustered in the land, And meanes to meet your highnes in the field.Noty et my Lord, for thereon doe they stay:
But as report doth goe, the Duke of Ioyeux Hath made great sute vnto the King therfore.Page [unnumbered]
Thanks to your Maiestie, and so I take my leaue.
Farwell to my Lord of Guise and Epernoune,Health and harty farwell to my Lord Ioyeux.
So kindely Cosin of Guise you and your wife doe both salute our louely Minions.
Remember you the letter gentle sir, which your wife writ to my deare Minion, and her chosen freend?
How now my Lord, faith this is more then need,
Am I thus to be iested at and scornde? Tis more then kingly or Emperious. And sure if all the proudest Kings in Christendome, should beare me such derision:They should know how I scornde them and their mockes.
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How now Mugeroun, metst thou not the Guise at the doore?
Marry if thou hadst, thou mightst haue had the stab,
For he hath solemnely sworne thy death.Because his wife beares thee such kindely loue.
But which way is he gone, Ile goe make a walk on purpose from the Court to meet with him.
I like not this, come Epernoune lets goe seek the Duke and make them freends.
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How many noble men haue lost their liues,
In prosecution of these cruell armes, Is ruth and almost death to call to minde: But God we know will alwaies put them downe, That lift themselues against the perfect truth, Which Ile maintaine so long as life doth last, And with the Q. of England ioyne my force: To beat the papall Monarck from our lands, And keep those relicks from our countries coastes. Come my Lords now that this storme is ouerpast, Let vs away with triumph to our tents.Sir, to you sir, that dares make the Duke a cuckolde,
And vse a counterfeite key to his priuie Chamber doore: And although
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you take out nothing but your owne, yet you put in that which displeaseth him, and so fore∣stall his market, and set vp your standing where you should not: and whereas hee is your Landlord, you will take vpon you to be his, and tyll the ground that he himself should occupy, which is his own free land. If it be not too free there's the question: and though I come not to take possession (as I would I might) yet I meane to keepe you out, which I will if this geareholde: what are ye come so soone? haue at ye sir.
Holde thee tall Souldier, take thee this and flye.
My Lord of Guise, we vnderstand that you haue gathered a power of men, what your intent is yet we cannot learn, but we presume it is not for our good.
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Why I am no traitor to the crowne of France.
What I haue done tis for the Gospell sake.Nay for the Popes sake, and thine owne benefite.
What Peere in France but thou (aspiring Guise) Durst be in armes without the Kings consent? I challenge thee for treason in the cause.Ah base Epernoune, were not his highnes heere,
Thou shouldst perceiue the D. of Guise is mou'd.Thou able to maintaine an hoast in pay,
That liuest by forraine exhibition. The Pope and King of Spaine are thy good frends, Else all France knowes how poor a Duke thou art.I, those are they that feed him with their golde,
To counter maund our will and check our freends.Page [unnumbered]
And know my Lord, the Pope will sell his triple crowne,
I, and the catholick Philip King of Spaine, Ere I shall want, will cause his Indians, To rip the golden bowels of America. Nauarre that cloakes them vnderneath his wings▪ Shall feele the house of Lorayne is his foe: Your highnes needs not feare mine armies force, Tis for your safetie and your enemies wrack.Guise, weare our crowne, and be thou King of France,
And as Dictator make or warre or peace, Whilste I cry placet like a Senator, I cannot brook thy hauty insolence, Dismisse thy campe or else by our Edict, Be thou proclaimde a traitor throughout France.Then farwell Guise, the King and thou are freends.
But trust him not my Lord, for had your highnesse,
Seene with what a pompe he entred Paris, And how the Citizens with gifts and shewesDid entertaine him and promised to be at his commaund:
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That the Guise durst stand in armes against the King,
For not effecting of his holines will.My Lord, I think for safety of your royall person,
It would be good the Guise were made away, And so to quite your grace of all suspect.First let vs set our hand and seale to this,
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Bartus, it shall be so, poast then to Fraunce,
And there salute his highnesse in our name, Assure him all the aide we can prouide, Against the Guisians and their complices. Bartus be gone, commend me to his grace, And tell him ere it be long, Ile visite him.Page [unnumbered]
That wicked Guise I feare me much will be,
The ruine of that famous Realme of France: For his aspiring thoughts aime at the crowne, And takes his vantage on Religion, To plant the Pope and popelings in the Realme, And binde it wholy to the Sea of Rome: But if that God doe prosper mine attempts, And send vs safely to arriue in France: Wee'l beat him back, and driue him to his death, That basely seekes the ruine of his Realme.Feare him said you? tush, were he heere, we would kill him presently.
O that his heart were leaping in my hand.
But when will he come that we may murther him?
Then sits take your standings within this Chamber,
For anon the Guise will come.Page [unnumbered]
Now fals the star whose influence gouernes France,
Whose light was deadly to the Protestants Now must he fall and perish in his height.Now Captain of my guarde, are these murthe∣rers ready?
Then come proud Guise and heere disgordge thy brest,
Surchargde with surfet of ambitious thoughts: Breath out that life wherein my death was hid, And end thy endles treasons with thy death.I prethee tell him that the Guise is heere.
And please your grace the Duke of Guise,
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doth craue accesse vnto your highnes.
Good morrow to my louing Cousin of Guise.
How fares it this morning with your excel∣lence?I heard your Maiestie was scarsely pleasde,
That in the Court I bare so great a traine.
They were to blame that said I was displeasde,
And you good Cosin to imagine it.Twere hard with me if I should doubt my kinne,
Or be suspicious of my deerest freends: Cousin, assure you I am resolute, Whatsoeuer any whisper in mine eares, Not to suspect disloyaltye in thee, And so sweet Cuz farwell.So, now sues the King for fauour to the Guise,
And all his Minions stoup when I commaund: Why this tis to haue an army in the fielde, Now by the holy sacrament I sweare, As ancient Romanes ouer their Captiue Lords,Page [unnumbered]
Holde Sworde, for in thee is the Duke of Guises hope.
Villaine, why dost thou look so gastly? speake.
O my Lord, I am one of them that is set to murder you.
I my Lord, the rest haue taine their stan∣dings in the next roome, therefore good my Lord goe not foorth.
Yet Caesar shall goe forth, let mean consaits, and baser men feare death: tut they are pesants,
I am Duke of Guise: and princes with their lookes, ingender feare.
Stand close, he is comming, I know him by his voice.
As pale as ashes, nay then tis time to look about.
Oh I haue my deaths wound, giue me leaue to speak.
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Then pray to God, and aske forgiuenes of the King.
Trouble me not, I neare offended him.
Nor will I aske forgiuenes of the King. Oh that I haue not power to stay my life, Nor immortalitie to be reueng'd: To dye by Pesantes, what a greefe is this? Ah Sextus, be reueng'd vpon the King, Philip and Parma, I am slaine for you: Pope excommunicate, Philip depose,The wicked branch of curst Valois his line.
Viue la messa, perish Hugonets,Thus Coesar did goe foorth, and thus he dyed.
What haue you done? then stay a while and Ile goe call the King, but see where he comes.
My Lord, see where the Guise is slaine.Ah this sweet sight is phisick to my soule,
Goe fetch his sonne for to beholde his death:Surchargde with guilt of thousand massacres:
Mounser of Loraine sinke away to hell,And in remembrance of those bloudy broyles:
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To hatch forth treason gainst their naturall Queene?
Did he not cause the King of Spaines huge fleete,
To threaten England and to menace me? Did he not iniure Mounser thats deceast? Hath he not made me in the Popes defence,To spend the treasure that should strength my land:
In ciuill broiles between Nauarre and me? Tush, to be short, he meant to make me Munke, Or else to murder me, and so be King. Let Christian princes that shall heare of this, (As all the world shall know our Guise is dead) Rest satisfied with this that heer I sweare, Nere was there King of France so yoakt as I.My father slaine, who hath done this deed?
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Sirra twas I that slew him, and will slay thee too, and thou proue such a traitor.
Art thou King, and hast done this bloudy deed?
Ile be reuengde.A way to prison with him, Ile clippe his winges or ere he passe my handes, away with him.
And that young Cardinall that is growne so proud?
Goe to the Gouernour of Orleance, And will him in my name to kill the Duke. Get you a way and strangle the Cardinall, These two will make one entire Duke of Guise, Especially with our olde mothers helpe.My Lord, see where she comes, as if she droupt to heare these newes.
And let her droup, my heart is light enough.
Mother, how like you this deuice of mine? I slew the Guise, because I would be King.Page [unnumbered]
I cannot speak for greefe, when thou wast borne,
I would that I had murdered thee my sonne. My sonne: thou art a changeling, not my sonne. I curse thee and exclaime thee miscreant, Traitor to God, and to the realme of France.Cry out, exclaime, houle till thy throat be hoarce,
The Guise is slaine, and I reioyce therefore: And now will I to armes, come Epernoune: And let her greeue her heart out if she will.Sweet Guise, would he had died so thou wert heere:
To whom shall I bewray my secrets now, Or who will helpe to builde Religion? The Protestants will glory and insulte, Wicked Nauarre will get the crowne of France, The Popedome cannot stand, all goes to wrack. And all for thee my Guise, what may I doe? But sorrow seaze vpon my toyling soule, For since the Guise is dead, I will not liue.Wert thou the Pope thou mightst not scape from vs.
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What will you fyle your handes with Churchmens bloud?
Shed your bloud, O Lord no: for we entend to strangle you.
Then there is no remedye but I must dye.
No remedye, therefore prepare your selfe.
Yet liues my brother Duke Dumaiue, and many moe:
To reuenge our deaths vpon that cursed King.
Vpon whose heart may all the furies gripe,And with their pawes drench his black soule in hell.
Yours my Lord Cardinall, you should haue saide.
So, pluck amaine, he is hard hearted, therfore pull with violence.
Come take him away.My noble brother murthered by the King,
Oh what may I doe, for to reuengethy death?
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Sweet Duke of Guise our prop to leane vpon,
Now thou art dead, heere is no stay for vs:
I am thy brother, and ile reuenge thy death,
And roote Valoys his line from forth of France,
And beate proud Burbon to his natiue home.That basely seekes to ioyne with such a King.
Whose murderous thoughts will be his ouerthrow.
Hee wild the Gouernour of Orleance in his name,
That I with speed should haue beene put to death.
But thats preuented, for to end his life.His life, and all those traitors to the Church of Rome,
That durst attempt to murder noble Guise.
My Lord, I come to bring you newes, that your brother the Cardinall of Loraine by the Kings consent is lately strangled vnto death.
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My brother Carden all slaine and I aliue?
O wordes of power to kill a thousand men. Come let vs away and leauy men,Tis warre that must asswage this tyrantes pride.
I am a Frier of the order of the Iacobyns,
That for my conscience sake will kill the King.
But what doth moue thee aboue the rest to doe the deed?
O my Lord, I haue beene a great sinner in my dayes, and the deed is meritorious.
But how wilt thou get opportu∣nitye?
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It is enough if that Nauarre niay be,
Esteemed faithfull to the King of France:Whose seruice he may still commaund till death.
Thankes to my Kingly Brother of Nauarre.
Then heere wee'llye before Lucrecia walles, Girting this strumpet Cittie with our siege, Till surfeiting with our afflicting armes, She cast her hatefull stomack to the earth.And it please your Maiestie heere is a Frier of the order of the Iacobins, sent from the Pre∣sident of Paris, that craues accesse vnto your grace.
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Twere not amisse my Lord, if he were searcht.
Sweete Epernoune, our Friers are holy men,
And will not offer violence to their King,
For all the wealth and treasure of the world,Frier, thou dost acknowledge me thy King:
I my good Lord, and will dye therein.
Then come thou neer, and tell what newes thou bringst.
My Lord, the President of Paris greetes your grace, and sends his dutie by these spee∣dye lines, humblye crauing your gracious reply.
Ile read them Frier, and then Ile answere thee.
No, let the villaine dye, and feele in hell, iust torments for his trechery.
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Yes Nauarre, but not to death I hope.
God shield your grace from such a sodaine death:
Goe call a surgeon hether strait.What irreligeous Pagans partes be these,
Of such as holde them of the holy church? Take hence that damned villaine from my sight.Sweet Epernoune all Rebels vnder heauen, shall take example by their punishment, how they beare armes against their soueraigne.
Goe call the English Agent hether strait, Ile send my sister England newes of this, And giue her warning of her trecherous foes.Pleaseth your grace to let the Surgeon search your wound.
The wound I warrant ye is deepe my Lord,
Search Surgeon and resolue me what thou seest.
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Which if I doe, the Papall Monarck goes to wrack.
And antechristian kingdome falles. These bloudy hands shall teare his triple Crowne, And fire accursed Rome about his eares. He fire his crased buildings and incense, The papall to wers to kisse the holy earth. Nauarre, giue me thy hand, I heere do sweare, To ruinate that wicked Church of Rome, That hatcheth vp such bloudy practises. And heere protest eternall loue to thee, And to the Queene of England specially, Whom God hath blest for hating Papestry.These words reuiue my thoughts and comforts me,
To see your highnes in this vertuous minde.Alas my Lord, the wound is dangerous, for you are stricken with a poysoned knife.
A poysoned knife, what shall the French king dy e,
Wounded and poysoned, both at once?O that that damned villaine were aliue againe,
That we might torture him with some new found death.
He died a death too good, the deuill of hell torture his wicked soule.
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Ah curse him not sith he is dead, O the fa∣tall poyson workes within my brest, tell me Surgeon and flatter not, may I liue?
Surgeon, why saist thou so? the King may liue.
Oh no Nauarre, thou must be King of France.
Long may you liue, and still be King of France.
My Lords, fight in the quarrell of this valiant Prince,
For he is your lawfull King and my next heire: Valoyses lyne ends in my tragedie. Now let the house of Bourbon weare the crowne,And may it neuer end in bloud as mine hath done.
Weep not sweet Nauarre, but reuenge my death.
Ah Epernoune, is this thy loue to me?Henry thy King wipes of these childish teares,
And bids thee whet thy sword on Sextus bones, That it may keenly slice the Catholicks. He loues me not that sheds most teares, But he that makes most lauish of his bloud. Fire Paris where these trecherous rebels lurke, Idye Nauarre, come beare me to my Sepulchre.Page [unnumbered]
Come Lords, take vp the body of the King.
That we may see it honourably interde: And then I vow for to reuenge his death, As Rome and all those popish Prelates there, Shall curse the time that ere Nauarre was King. And rulde in France by Henries fatall death.