Massacre at Paris

[Scene xii] [Scene xii] Sound Trumpets within, and then all crye vive le Roy two or three times. Enter Henry crowned: Queene [Mother], Cardinall [of Loraine], Duke of Guise, Epernoone, [Mugeroun,] the kings Minions, with others, and the Cutpurse. ALL. Vive le Roy, vive le Roy. Sound Trumpets. QUEENE MOTHER. Welcome from Poland Henry once agayne, Welcome to France thy fathers royall seate, Heere hast thou a country voice of feares, A warlike people to maintaine thy right, A watchfull Senate for ordaining lawes, A loving mother to preserve thy state, And all things that a King may wish besides: All this and more hath Henry with his crowne. CARDINALL. And long may Henry enjoy all this and more. ALL. Vive le Roy, vive le Roy. Sound trumpets. KING. Thanks to you al. The guider of all crownes, Graunt that our deeds may wel deserve your loves: And so they shall, if fortune speed my will, And yeeld our thoughts to height of my desertes. What say our Minions, think they Henries heart Will not both harbour love and Majestie? Put of that feare, they are already joynde, No person, place, or time, or circumstance, Shall slacke my loves affection from his bent. As now you are, so shall you still persist, Remooveles from the favours of your King. MUGEROUN. We know that noble minces change not their thoughts For wearing of a crowne: in that your grace, Hath worne the Poland diadem, before You were withvested in the crowne of France. KING. I tell thee Mugeroun we will be freends, And fellowes to, what ever stormes arise. MUGEROUN. Then may it please your Majestie to give me leave, To punish those that doe prophane this holy feast. He cuts of the Cutpurse eare, for cutting of the golde buttons off his cloake. KING. How meanst thou that? CUTPURSE. O Lord, mine eare. MUGEROUN. Come sir, give me my buttons and heers your eare. GUISE. Sirra, take him away. KING. Hands of good fellow, I will be his baile For this offence: goe sirra, worke no more, Till this our Coronation day be past: And now, Our 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 Coutr? Lets goe my Lords, our dinner staies for us. Goe out all, but the Queene [Mother] and the Cardinall. QUEENE MOTHER. My Lord Cardinall of Loraine, tell me, How likes your grace my sonnes pleasantnes? His mince you see runnes on his minions, And all his heaven is to delight himselfe: And whilste he sleepes securely thus in ease, Thy brother Guise and we may now provide, To plant our selves with such authoritie, That not a man may live without our leaves. Then shall the Catholick faith of Rome, Flourish in France, and none deny the same. Cardinall  Madam, as I in secresy was tolde, My brother Guise hath gathered a power of men, Which are he saith, to kill the Puritans, But tis the house of Burbon that he meanest Now Madam must you insinuate with the King, And tell him that tis for his Countries good, And common profit of Religion. QUEENE MOTHER. Tush man, let me alone with him, To work the way to bring this thing to passe: And if he doe deny what I doe say, Ile dispatch him with his brother presently. And then shall Mounser weare the diadem. Tush, all shall dye unles I have my will: For while she lives Katherine will be Queene. Come my Lord, let us goe to seek the Guise, And then determine of this enterprise. Exeunt. [Scene xiii] Enter the Duchesse of Guise, and her Maide. DUCHESSE. Goe fetch me pen and inke. MAID. I will Madam. Exit Maid. DUCHESSE. That I may write unto my dearest Lord. Sweet Mugeroune, tis he that hath my heart, And Guise usurpes it, cause I am his wife: Faine would I finde some means to speak with him But cannot, and therfore am enforst to write, That he may come and meet me in some place, Where we may one injoy the others sight. Enter the Maid with Inke and Paper. So, set it down and leave me to my selfe. O would to God this quill that heere doth write, She writes. Had late been plucks from out faire Cupids wing: That it might print these lines within his heart. Enter the Guise. GUISE. What, all alone my love, and writing too: I prethee say to whome thou writes? DUCHESSE. To such a one, as when she reads my lines, Will laugh I feare me at their good aray. GUISE. I pray thee let me see. DUCHESSE. O no my Lord, a woman only must Partake the secrets of my heart. GUISE. But Madam I must see. He takes it. Are these your secrets that no man must know? DUCHESSE. O pardon me my Lord. GUISE. Thou trothles and unjust, what lines are these? Am I growne olde, or is thy lust growne yong, Or hath my love been so obscurde in thee, That others need to comment on my text? Is all my love forgot which helde thee deare? I, dearer then the apple of mine eye? Is Guises glory but a clowdy mist, In sight and judgement of thy lustfull eye? Mor du, were not the fruit within thy wombe, On 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 look'st to live. Exit [Duchesse]. O wicked sexe, perjured and unjust, Now doe I see that from the very first, Her eyes and lookes sow'd seeds of perjury, But villaine he to whom these lines should goe, Shall buy her love even with his dearest bloud. Exit. [Scene xiv] Enter the King of Navarre, Pleshe and Bartus, and their train, with drums and trumpets. NAVARRE. Now Lords, since in a quarrell just and right, We undertake to mannage these our warres Against the proud disturbers of the faith, I meane the Guise, the Pope, and King of Spaine, Who set themselves to tread us under foot, And rend our true religion from this land: But for you know our quarrell is no more, But to defend their strange inventions, Which they will put us to with sword and fire: We must with resolute minces resolve to fight, In honor of our God and countries good. Spaine is the counsell chamber of the pope, 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 us in the field. BARTUS. Then in this bloudy brunt they may beholde, The sole endevour of your princely care, To plant the true succession of the faith, In spite of Spaine and all his heresies. NAVARRE. The power of vengeance now implants it selfe, Upon the hauty mountains of my brest: Plaies with her goary coulours of revenge, Whom I respect as leaves of boasting greene, That change their coulour when the winter comes, When I shall vaunt as victor in revenge. Enter a Messenger. How now sirra, what newes? MESSENGER. My Lord, as by our scoutes we understande, A mighty army comes from France with speed: Which is already mustered in the land, And meanesto meet your highnes in the field. NAVARRE. In Gods name, let them come. This is the Guise that hath incenst the King, To leavy armes and make these civill broyles: But canst thou tell me who is their generall? MESSENGER. Not yet my Lord, for thereon doe they stay: But as report doth goe, the Duke of Joyeux Hath made great sute unto the King therfore. NAVARRE. It will not countervaile his paines I hope, I would the Guise in his steed might have come, But he doth lurke within his drousie couch, And makes his footstoole on securitie: So he be safe he cares not what becomes, Of King or Country, no not for them both. But come my Lords, let us away with speed, And place our selves in order for the fight. Exeunt. [Scene xv] Enter [Henry] the King of France, Duke of Guise, Epernoune, and Duke Joyeux. KING. My sweet Joyeux, I make thee Generall, Of all my army now in readines, To march against the rebellious King Navarre: At thy request I am content thou go'st, Although my love to thee can hardly suffer't, Regarding still the danger of thy life. JOYEUX. Thanks to your Majestie, and so I take my leave. Farwell my Lord of Guise and Epernoune. GUISE. Health and harty farwell to my Lord Joyeux. Exit Joyeux. KING. How kindely Cosin of Guise you and your wife Doe both salute our lovely Minions. He makes hornes at the Guise. Remember you the letter gentle sir, Which your wife writ to my deare Minion, And her chosen freend? GUISE. How now my Lord, faith this is more then need, Am I to be thus jested at and scornde? Tis more then kingly or Emperious. And sure if all the proudest kings beside In Christendome, should beare me such derision, They should know I scornde them and their mockes. I love your Minions? dote on them your selfe, I know none els but hordes them in disgrace: And heer by all the Saints in heaven I sweare, That villain for whom I beare this deep disgrace, Even for your words that have incenst me so, Shall buy that strumpets favour with his blood, Whether he have dishonoured me or no. Par la mor du, Il mora. Exit. KING. Beleeve me, Epernoune this jest bites sore. EPERNOUNE. My Lord, twere good to make them frends, For his othes are seldome spent in vaine. Enter Mugeroun. KING. How now Mugeroun, metst thou not the Guise at the doore? MUGEROUN. Not I my Lord, what if I had? KING. Marry if thou hadst, thou mightst have had the stab, For he hath solemnely sworne thy death. MUGEROUN. I may be stabd, and live till he be dead, But wherfore beares he me such deadly hate? KING. Because his wife beares thee such kindely love. MUGEROUN. If that be all, the next time that I meet her, Ile make her shake off love with her heeles. But which way is he gone? Ile goe take a walk On purpose from the Court to meet with him. Exit. KING. I like not this, come Epernoune Lets goe seek the Duke and make them freends. Exeunt. [Scene xvi] Alarums within. The Duke Joyeux slaine. Enter the King of Navarre [, Bartus,] and his traine. NAVARRE. The Duke is slaine and all his power dispearst, And we are grac'd with wreathes of victory: Thus God we see doth ever guide the right, To make his glory great upon the earth. BARTUS. The terrour of this happy victory, I hope will make the King surcease his hate: And either never mannage army more, Or else employ them in some better cause. NAVARRE. How many noble men have lost their lives, In prosecution of these quell armes, Is ruth and almost death to call to mince: Put God we know will alwaies put them downe, That lift themselves against the perfect truth, Which Ile maintaine as long as life doth last: And with the Queene of England joyne my force, To beat the papall Monarck from our lands, And keep those relicks from our countries coastes. Come my Lords, now that the storme is overpass, Let us away with triumph to our tents. Exeunt. [Scene xvii] Enter a Souldier. SOULDIER. Sir, to you sir, that dare make the Duke a cuckolde, and use a counterfeite key to his privie Chamber doore: And although you take out nothing but your owne, yet you put in that which displeaseth him, and so forestall his market, and set up your standing where you should not: and whereas tree is your Landlord, you would take upon 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 geare horde: what are ye come so soone? have at ye sir. Enter Mugeroun. He shootes at him and killes him. Enter the Guise [attended]. GUISE. Holde thee tall Souldier, take thou this and flye. Exit Souldier. Lye there the Kings delight, and Guises scorne. Revenge it Henry as thou list'st or dar'st, I did it only in despite of thee. Take him away. Enter the King and Epernoune. KING. My Lord of Guise, we understand that you Have gathered a power of men. What your intent is yet we cannot learn, But we presume it is not for our good. GUISE. Why I am no traitor to the crowne of France. What I have done tis for the Gospel's sake. EPERNOUNE. Nay for the Popes sake, and shine 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. GUISE. Oh base Epernoune, were not his highnes heere, Thou shouldst perceive the Duke of Guise is mov'd. KING. Be patient Guise and threat not Epernoune, Least thou perceive the King of France be mov'd. GUISE. Why? I am a Prince of the Valoyses line, Therfore an enemy to the Burbonites. I am a juror in the holy league, And therfore hated of the Protestants. What should I doe but stand upon my guarde? And being able, Ile keep an hoast in pay. EPERNOUNE. Thou able to maintaine an hoast in pay, That livest by forraine exhibition? The Pope and King of Spaine are thy good frends, Else all France knowes how poor a Duke thou art. KING. I, those are they that feed him with their golde, To countermaund our will and check our freends. GUISE. My Lord, to speak more plainely, thus it is: Being animated by Religious zeale, I meane to muster all the power I can, To overthrow those factious Puritans: And know, 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. Navarre that cloakes them underneath his wings, Shall feele the house of Lorayne is his foe: Your highnes need not feare mine armies force, Tis for your safetie and your enemies wrack. KING. 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. GUISE. The choyse is hard, I must dissemble. [Aside.] My Lord, in token of my true humilitie, And simple meaning to your Majestie, I kisse your graces hand, and take my leave, Intending to dislodge my campe with speed. KING. Then farwell Guise, the King and thou art freends. Exit Guise. EPERNOUNE. 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 shewes did entertaine him And promised to be at his commaund: Nay, they fear'd not to speak in the streetes, That Guise ch, durst stand in armes against the King, For not effecting of his holines will. KING. Did they of Paris entertaine him so? Then meanes he present treason to our state. Well, let me alone, whose within there? Enter one with e pen and inke. Make a discharge of all my counsell straite, And Ile subscribe my name and seale it straight. My head shall be my counsell, they are false: And Epernoune I will be rulde by thee. EPERNOUNE. My Lord, I think for safety of your person, It would be good the Guise were made away, And so to quite your grace of all suspect. KING. First let us set our hand and seale to this, And then Ile tell thee what I meane to doe. He writes. So, convey this to the counsell presently. Exit one. And Epernoune though I seeme milde and calme, Thinke not but I am tragicall within: Ile secretly convey me unto Bloyse, For now that Paris takes the Guises parse, Heere is not staying for the King of France, Unles he means to be betraide and dye: But as I live, so sure the Guise shall dye. Exeunt. [Scene xviii] Enter the King of Navarre reading of a letter, and Bartus. NAVARRE. My Lord, I am advertised from France, That the Guise hath taken armes against the King, And that Paris is revolted from his grace. BARTUS. Then hath your grace fit oportunitie, To shew your love unto the King of France: Offering him aide against his enemies, Which cannot but be thankfully receiv'd. NAVARRE. Bartus, it shall be so, poast then to Fraunce, And there salute his highnesse in our name, Assure him all the aide we can provide, Against the Guisians and their complices. Bartus be gone, commend me to his grace, And tell him ere it be long, Ile visite him. BARTUS. I will my Lord. Exit. NAVARRE. Pleshe. Enter Pleshe. PLESHE. My Lord. NAVARRE. Pleshe, goe muster up our men with speed, And let them march away to France amaine: For we must aide the King against the Guise. Be gone I say, tis time that we were there. PLESHE. I goe my Lord. [Exit.] NAVARRE. That wicked Guise I feare me much will be, The wine of that famous Realme of France: For his aspiring thoughts aime at the crowne, He 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 us safely to arrive in France: Wee'l beat him back, and drive him to his death, That basely seekes the wine of his Realme. Exit. [Scene xix] Enter the Captaine of the guarde, and three murtherers. CAPTAINE. Come on sirs, what, are you resolutely bent, Hating the life and honour of the Guise? What, will you not feare when you see him come? 1. Feare him said you? tush, were he heere, we would kill him presently. 2. O that his heart were leaping in my hand. 31. But when will he come that we may murther him? CAPTAINE. Well then, I see you are resolute. 1. Let us alone, I warrant you. CAPTAINE. Then sirs take your standings within this Chamber, For anon the Guise will come. ALL. You will give us our money? CAPTAINE. I, I, feare not: stand close, be resolute: [The murtherers go aside as if in the next room.] Now fals the star whose influence governes France, Whose light was deadly to the Protestants: Now must he fall and perish in his height. Enter the King and Epernoune. KING. Now Captain of my guarde, are these murtherers ready? CAPTAINE. They be my good Lord. KING. But are they resolute and armde to kill, Hating the life and honour of the Guise? CAPTAINE. I warrant you my Lord. [Exit.] KING. 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. Enter the Guise [within] and knocketh. GUISE. Holla varlet, hey: Epernoune, where is the King? EPERNOUNE. Mounted his royall Cabonet. GUISE. I prethee tell him that the Guise is heere. EPERNOUNE. And please your grace the Duke of Guise doth crave Accesse unto your highnes. KING. Let him come in. Come Guise and see thy traiterous guile outreacht, And perish in the pit thou mad'st for me. The Guise comes to the King. GUISE. Good morrow to your Majestie. KING. Good morrow to my loving Cousin of Guise. How fares it this morning with your excellence? GUISE. I heard your Majestie was scarcely pleasde, That in the Court I bear so great a traine. KING. 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, Whatever any whisper in mine eares, Not to suspect disloyaltye in thee, And so sweet Cuz farwell. Exit King [and Epernoune]. GUISE. So, Now sues the King for favour to the Guise, And all his Minions stoup when I commaund: Why this tis to have an army in the fielde. Now by the holy sacrament I sweare, As ancient Romanes over their Captive Lords, So will I triumph over this wanton King, And he shall follow my proud Chariots wheeles. Now doe I but begin to look about, And all my former time was spent in vaine: Holde Sworde, For in thee is the Guises hope. Enter one of the Murtherers. Villaine, why cost thou look so gastly? speake. 3. O pardon me my Lord of Guise. GUISE. Pardon thee, why what hast thou done? 3. O my Lord, I am one of them that is set to murder you. GUISE. To murder me, villaine? 3. I my Lord, the rest have taine their standings in the next roome, therefore good my Lord goe not foorth. GUISE. 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. 2 MURD. Stand close, he is comming, I know him by his voice. GUISE. As pale as ashes, nay then tis time to look about. ALL. Downe with him, downe with him. They stabbe him. GUISE. Oh I have my death wound, give me leave to speak. 2. Then pray to God, and aske forgivenes of the King. GUISE. Trouble me not, I neare offended him, Nor will I aske forgivenes of the King. Oh that I have not power to stay my life, Nor immortalitie to be reveng'd: To dye by Pesantes, what a greefe is this? Ah Sextus, be reveng'd upon the King, Philip and Parma, I am slaine for you: Pope excommunicate, Philip depose, The wicked branch of curst Valois's line. Vive la messe, perish Hugonets, Thus Caesar did goe foorth, and thus he dies. He dyes. Enter Captaine of the Guarde. CAPTAINE. What, have you done? Then stay a while and Ile goe call the King, [Enter King and Epernoune attended.] But see where he comes. My Lord, see where the Guise is slaine. KING. Oh this sweet sight is phisick to my soule, Goe fetch his sonne for to beholde his death: [Exit attendant.] Surchargde with guilt of thousand massacres, Mounser of Loraine sinke away to hell, In just remembrance of those bloudy broyles, To which thou didst alure me being alive: And heere in presence of you all I sweare, I nere was King of France untill this houre: This is the traitor that hath spent my golde, In making forraine warres and cruel broiles. Did he not draw a sorte of English priestes From Doway to the Seminary at Remes, 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 injure Mounser thats deceast? Hath he not made me in the Popes defence, To spend the treasure that should strength my land, In civill broiles between Navarre 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 satisfed with this that heer I sweare, Nere was there King of France so yoakt as I. EPERNOUNE. My Lord heer is his sonne. Enter the Guises sonne. KING. Boy, look where your father lyes. YONG GUISE. My father slaine, who hath done this deed? KING. Sirra twas I that slew him, and will slay Thee too, and thou prove such a traitor. YONG GUISE. Art thou King, and hast done this bloudy deed? Ile be revengde. He offereth to throwe his dagger. KING. Away to prison with him, Ile clippe his winges Or ere he passe my handes, away with him. Exit Boy. But what availeth that this traitors dead, When Duke Dumaine his brother is alive, And that young Cardinall that is growne so proud? Goe to the Governour of Orleance, And will him in my name to kill the Duke. [Exit Captaine of the Guarde.] Get you away and strangle the Cardinall. [Exit murtherers.] These two will make one entire Duke of Guise, Especially with our olde mothers helpe. EPERNOUNE. My Lord, see where she comes, as if she droupt To heare these newest Enter Queene Mother [attended]. KING. And let her croup, my heart is light enough. Mother, how like you this device of mine? I slew the Guise, because I would be King. QUEENE MOTHER. King, why so thou wert before. Pray God thou be a King now this is done. KING. Nay he was King and countermanded me, But now I will be King and rule my selfe, And make the Guisians stoup that are alive. QUEENE MOTHER. I cannot speak for greefe: when thou went home, 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. KING. Cry out, exclaime, houle till thy throat be hoarce, The Guise is slaine, and I rejoyce therefore: And now will I to armes, come Epernoune: And let her greeve her heart out if she will. Exit the King and Epernoune. QUEENE MOTHER. Away, leave me alone to meditate. 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 Navarre 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 upon my toyling soule, For since the Guise is dead, I will not live. Exit [the attendants taking up body of the Guise]. [Scene xx] Enter two [Murtherers] dragging in the Cardenall [of Loraine]. CARDINALL. Murder me not, I am a Cardenall. 1. Wert thou the Pope thou mightst not scape from us. CARDINALL. What, will you fyle your handes with Churchmens bloud? 2. Shed your bloud, O Lord no: for we entend to strangle you. CARDINALL. Then there is no remedye but I must dye? 1. No remedye, therefore prepare your selfe. CARDINALL. Yet lives My brother Duke Dumaine, and many moe: To revenge our deaths upon that cursed King, Upon whose heart may all the furies gripe, And with their pawes drench his black soule in hell. 1. Yours my Lord Cardinall, you should have saide. Now they strangle him. So, pluck amaine, He is hard hearted, therfore pull with violence. Come take him away. Exeunt. [Scene xxi] Enter Duke Dumayn reading of a letter, with others. DUMAINE. My noble brother murthered by the King, Oh what may I doe, to revenge thy death? The Kings alone, it cannot satisfie. Sweet Duke of Guise our prop to leane upon, Now thou art dead, heere is no stay for us: I am thy brother, and ile revenge thy death, And roote Valois's line from forth of France, And beate proud Burbon to his native home, That basely seekes to joyne with such a King, Whose murderous thoughts will be his overthrow. Hee wild the Governour of Orleance in his name, That I with speed should have beene put to death. But thats prevented, for to end his life, And all those traitors to the Church of Rome, That durst attempt to murder noble Guise. Enter the Frier. FRIER. My Lord, I come to bring you newes, that your brother the Cardinall of Loraine by the Kings consent is lately strangled unto death. DUMAINE. My brother Cardenall slaine and I alive? O wordes of power to kill a thousand men. Come let us away and leavy men, Tis warre that must asswage the tyrantes pride. FRIER. My Lord, heare me but speak. I am a Frier of the order of the Jacobyns, that for my conscience sake will kill the King. DUMAINE. But what doth move thee above the rest to doe the deed? FRIER. O my Lord, I have beene a great sinner in my dayes, and the deed is meritorious. DUMAINE. But how wilt thou get opportunitye? FRIER. Tush my Lord, let me alone for that. DUMAINE. Frier come with me, We will goe talke more of this within. Exeunt. [Scene xxii] Sound Drumme and Trumpets, and enter the King of France, and Navarre, Epernoune, Bartus, Pleshe and Souldiers. KING. Brother of Navarre, I sorrow much, That ever I was prov'd your enemy, And that the sweet and princely minde you beare, Was ever troubled with injurious warres: I vow as I am lawfull King of France, To recompence your reconciled love, With all the honors and affections, That ever I vouchsafte my dearest freends. NAVARRE. It is enough if that Navarre may be Esteemed faithfull to the King of France: Whose service he may still commaund to death. KING. Thankes to my Kingly Brother of Navarre. Then there wee'l lye before Lutetia's walles, Girting this strumpet Cittie with our siege, Till surfeiting with our afflicting armes, She cast her hatefull stomack to the earth. Enter a Messenger. MESSENGER. And it please your Majestie heere is a Frier of the order of the Jacobins, sent from the President of Paris, that craves accesse unto your grace. KING. Let him come in. Enter Frier with a Letter. EPERNOUNE. I like not this Friers look. Twere not amisse my Lord, if he were searcht. KING. 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? FRIER. I my good Lord, and will dye therein. KING. Then come thou neer, and tell what newes thou bringst. FRIER. My Lord, The President of Paris greetes your grace, And sends his dutie by these speedye lines, Humblye craving your gracious reply. KING. Ile read them Frier, and then Ile answere thee. FRIER. Sancte Jacobus, now have mercye on me. He stabs the King with a knife as he readeth the letter, and then the King getteth the knife and killes him. EPERNOUNE. O my Lord, let him live a while. KING. No, let the villaine dye, and feele in hell, Just torments for his trechery. NAVARRE. What, is your highnes hurt? KING. Yes Navarre, but not to death I hope. NAVARRE. God shield your grace from such a sodaine death: Goe call a surgeon hether strait. [Exit attendant.] KING. What irreligeous Pagans partes be these, Of such as horde them of the holy church? Take hence that damned villaine from my sight. [Exeunt attendants with body] EPERNOUNE. Ah, had your highnes let him live, We might have punisht him for his deserts. KING. Sweet Epernoune all Rebels under heaven, Shall take example by his punishment, How they beare armes against their soveraigne. Goe call the English Agent hether strait, Ile send my sister England newes of this, And give her warning of her trecherous foes. [Enter Surgeon.] NAVARRE. Pleaseth your grace to let the Surgeon search your wound. KING. The wound I warrant you is deepe my Lord, Search Surgeon and resolve me what thou seest. The Surgeon searcheth. Enter the English Agent. Agent for England, send thy mistres word, What this detested Jacobin hath done. Tell her for all this that I hope to live, Which if I doe, the Papall Monarck goes To wrack, an antechristian kingdome falles. These bloudy hands shall teare his triple Crowne, And fire accursed Rome about his eares. Ile fire his erased buildings and incense The papall towers to kisse the holy earth. Navarre, give me thy hand, I heere do sweare, To ruinate this wicked Church of Rome, That hatcheth up such bloudy practices. And heere protest eternall love to thee, And to the Queene of England especially, Whom God hath blest for hating Popery. NAVARRE. These words revive my thoughts and comfort me, To see your highnes in this vertuous minde. KING. Tell me Surgeon, shall I live? SURGEON. Alas my Lord, the wound is dangerous, For you are stricken with a poysoned knife. KING. A poysoned knife? what, shall the French king dye, Wounded and poysoned, both at once? EPERNOUNE. O that that damned villaine were alive againe, That we might torture him with some new found death. BARTUS. He died a death too good, the devill of hell Torture his wicked soule. KING. Oh curse him not since he is dead. O the fatall poyson workes within my brest, Tell me Surgeon and flatter not, may I live? SURGEON. Alas my Lord, your highnes cannot live. NAVARRE. Surgeon, why saist thou so? the King may live. KING. Oh no Navarre, thou must be King of France. NAVARRE. Long may you live, and still be King of France. EPERNOUNE. Or else dye Epernoune. KING. Sweet Epernoune thy King must dye. 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 never end in bloud as mine hath done. Weep not sweet Navarre, but revenge my death. Ah Epernoune, is this thy love 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 loves me not the best that sheds most teares, But he that makes most lavish of his bloud. Fire Paris where these trecherous rebels lurke. I dye Navarre, come beare me to my Sepulchre. Salute the Queene of England in my name, And tell her Henry dyes her faithfull freend. He dyes. NAVARRE. Come Lords, take up the body of the King, That we may see it honourably interde: And then I vow so to revenge his death, That Rome and all those popish Prelates there, Shall curse the time that ere Navarre was King, And rulde in France by Henries fatall death. They march out with the body of the King, lying on foure mens shoulders with a dead march, drawing weapons on the ground. 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