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A07003
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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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Marlowe, Christopher, 1564-1593.
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1594
(1594)
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STC 17423; ESTC S109865
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21,717
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60
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is time to look about All Downe with him downe with him They stabbe him Guise Oh I haue my deaths wound giue me leaue to speak 2. Then pray to God and aske forgiuenes of the King Guise 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 He dyes Enter Captaine of the Guarde Captaine What haue you done then stay a while and I le goe call the King but see where he comes My Lord see where the Guise is slaine King 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 To which thou didst alure me being aliue And heere in presence of you all I sweare I nere was King of France vntill this houre This is the traitor that hath spent my golde In making forraine warres and ciuile 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 iniure Mounser that 's 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 Eper. 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 t was I that slew him and will slay thee too and thou proue such a traitor Yong Guise Art thou King and hast done this bloudy deed I le be reuengde He offereth to throwe his dagger King A way to prison with him I le clippe his winges or ere he passe my handes away with him Exit Boy But what auaileth that this traitor 's dead When Duke Dumaine his brother is aliue 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 away and strangle the Cardinall These two will make one entire Duke of Guise Especially with our olde mothers helpe Eper. My Lord see where she comes as if she droupt to heare these newes Enter Queene Mother King 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 Queene 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 aliue Queene 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 King 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 Exit the King and Epernoune Queene Away leaue 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 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 Exit Enter two dragging in the Cardenall Car. Murder me not I am a Cardenall 1. Wert thou the Pope thou mightst not scape from vs Car. What will you fyle your handes with Churchmens bloud 2. Shed your bloud O Lord no for we entend to strangle you Car. Then there is no remedye but I must dye 1. No remedye therefore prepare your selfe Car. Yet liues my brother Duke Dumaine 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 1. Yours my Lord Cardinall you should haue saide Now they strangle him So pluck amaine he is hard hearted therfore pull with violence Come take him away Exeunt Enter Duke Dumayn reading of a letter with others Dumaine My noble brother murthered by the King Oh what may I doe for to reuenge thy death The Kings alone it cannot satisfie Sweet Duke of Guise our prop to leane vpon Now thou art dead heere is no stay for vs I am thy brother and I le 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 that 's preuented for to end his life 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 vnto death Dumaine My brother Cardenall slaine and I aliue O wordes of power to kill a thousand men Come let vs away and leauy men T is warre that must asswage this tyrantes pride Frier My Lord heare me but speak I am a Frier of the order of the Iacobyns That for my conscience sake will kill the King Dumaine But what doth moue thee aboue the rest to doe the deed Frier O my Lord I haue 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 Sound Drumme and Trumpets and enter the King of France and Nauarre Epernoune Bartus Pleshe and Souldiers King Brother of Nauarre I sorrow much That euer I was prou'd your enemy And that the sweet and princely minde you beare Was euer troubled with iniurious warres I vow as I am lawfull King of France To recompence your reconciled loue With all the
honors and affections That euer I vouchsafte my dearest freends Nauarre It is enough if that Nauarre may be Esteemed faithfull to the King of France Whose seruice he may still commaund till death King Thankes to my Kingly Brother of Nauarre Then heere wee 'l lye before Lutetia 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 Maiestie heere is a Frier of the order of the Iacobins sent from the President of Paris that craues accesse vnto your grace King Let him come in Enter Frier with a Letter Epernoune I like not this Friers look T were 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 crauing your gracious reply King I le read them Frier and then I le answere thee Frier Sancte Iacobus now haue mercye vpon 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 liue a while King No let the villaine dye and feele in hell iust torments for his trechery Nauarre What is your highnes hurt King Yes Nauarre but not to death I hope Nauarre God shield your grace from such a sodaine death Goe call a surgeon hether strait King What irreligeous Pagans partes be these Of such as holde them of the holy church Take hence that damned villaine from my sight Eper. Ah had your highnes let him liue We might haue punisht him to his deserts King 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 I le send my sister England newes of this And giue her warning of her trecherous foes Nauarre Pleaseth your grace to let the Surgeon search your wound King The wound I warrant ye is deepe my Lord Search Surgeon and resolue me what thou seest The Surgeon searcheth Enter the English Agent Agent for England send thy mistres word What this detested Iacobin hath done Tell her for all this that I hope to liue 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 I le buildings and incense The papall towers 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 Nauarre These words reuiue my thoughts and comforts me To see your highnes in this vertuous minde King Tell me Surgeon shall I liue Sur. 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 Eper. O that that damned villaine were aliue againe That we might torture him with some new found death Bar. He died a death too good the deuill of hell torture his wicked soule King Ah curse him not sith he is dead O the fatall poyson workes within my brest tell me Surgeon and flatter not may I liue Sur. Alas my Lord your highnes cannot liue Nauarre Surgeon why saist thou so the King may liue King Oh no Nauarre thou must be King of France Nauarre Long may you liue and still be King of France Eper. 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 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 I dye Nauarre come beare me to my Sepulchre Salute the Queene of England in my name And tell her Henry dyes her faithfull freend He dyes Nauarre 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 They march out with the body of the King lying on foure mens shoulders with a dead march drawing weapons on the ground FINIS