initial commit of ebook 1496HEADmain

2 files changed, 2488 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/msprs10.txt b/old/msprs10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42ac95f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/msprs10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2488 @@
+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Massacre at Paris, by Marlowe**
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check
+the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!!
+
+Please take a look at the important information in this header.
+We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an
+electronic path open for the next readers.  Do not remove this.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations*
+
+Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and
+further information is included below.  We need your donations.
+
+
+Massacre at Paris
+
+by Christopher Marlowe
+
+October, 1998  [Etext #1496]
+
+
+**The Project Gutenberg Etext of Massacre at Paris, by Marlowe**
+******This file should be named msprs10.txt or msprs10.zip*****
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, msprs11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, msprs10a.txt
+
+Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions,
+all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a
+copyright notice is included.  Therefore, we do NOT keep these books
+in compliance with any particular paper edition, usually otherwise.
+
+We are now trying to release all our books one month in advance
+of the official release dates, for time for better editing.
+
+Please note:  neither this list nor its contents are final till
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.  To be sure you have an
+up to date first edition [xxxxx10x.xxx] please check file sizes
+in the first week of the next month.  Since our ftp program has
+a bug in it that scrambles the date [tried to fix and failed] a
+look at the file size will have to do, but we will try to see a
+new copy has at least one byte more or less.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+fifty hours is one conservative estimate for how long it we take
+to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.  This
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If our value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour this year as we release thirty-two text
+files per month, or 384 more Etexts in 1998 for a total of 1500+
+If these reach just 10% of the computerized population, then the
+total should reach over 150 billion Etexts given away.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext
+Files by the December 31, 2001.  [10,000 x 100,000,000=Trillion]
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only 10% of the present number of computer users.  2001
+should have at least twice as many computer users as that, so it
+will require us reaching less than 5% of the users in 2001.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+All donations should be made to "Project Gutenberg/CMU": and are
+tax deductible to the extent allowable by law.  (CMU = Carnegie-
+Mellon University).
+
+For these and other matters, please mail to:
+
+Project Gutenberg
+P. O. Box  2782
+Champaign, IL 61825
+
+When all other email fails try our Executive Director:
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+We would prefer to send you this information by email
+(Internet, Bitnet, Compuserve, ATTMAIL or MCImail).
+
+******
+If you have an FTP program (or emulator), please
+FTP directly to the Project Gutenberg archives:
+[Mac users, do NOT point and click. . .type]
+
+ftp uiarchive.cso.uiuc.edu
+login:  anonymous
+password:  your@login
+cd etext/etext90 through /etext96
+or cd etext/articles [get suggest gut for more information]
+dir [to see files]
+get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files]
+GET INDEX?00.GUT
+for a list of books
+and
+GET NEW GUT for general information
+and
+MGET GUT* for newsletters.
+
+**Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor**
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here?  You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault.  So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you.  It also tells you how
+you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement.  If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from.  If you received this etext on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-
+tm etexts, is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor
+Michael S. Hart through the Project Gutenberg Association at
+Carnegie-Mellon University (the "Project").  Among other
+things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext
+under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works.  Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects".  Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this
+etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from.  If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy.  If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS".  NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors,
+officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost
+and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or
+indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause:
+[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification,
+or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     etext or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word pro-
+     cessing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The etext may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the etext (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the
+     net profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Association/Carnegie-Mellon
+     University" within the 60 days following each
+     date you prepare (or were legally required to prepare)
+     your annual (or equivalent periodic) tax return.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
+scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
+free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
+you can think of.  Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
+Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".
+
+*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
+
+
+
+
+
+Massacre at Paris by Christopher Marlowe
+
+
+
+
+Table of Contents with inital stage directions
+
+
+* Dramatis Personae
+* Scene 1: Enter Charles the French King, [Catherine] the Queene
+  Mother, the King of Navarre, the Prince of Condye, the Lord high
+  Admirall, and [Margaret] the Queene of Navarre, with others.
+* Scene 2: Enter the Duke of Guise.
+* Scene 3: Enter the King of Navar and Queen [Margaret], and his
+  [olde] Mother Queen [of Navarre], the Prince of Condy, the
+  Admirall, and the Pothecary with the gloves, and gives them
+  to the olde Queene.
+* Scene 4: Enter [Charles] the King, [Catherine the] Queene
+  Mother, Duke of Guise, Duke Anjoy, Duke Demayne [and Cossin,
+  Captain of the Kings Guard].
+* Scene 5: Enter Guise, Anjoy, Dumaine, Gonzago, Retes, Montsorrell,
+  and Souldiers to the massacre.
+* Scene 6: Enter Mountsorrell and knocks at Serouns doore.
+* Scene 7: Enter Ramus in his studie.
+* Scene 8: Enter Anjoy, with two Lords of Poland.
+* Scene 9: Enter two with the Admirals body.
+* Scene 10: Enter five or sixe Protestants with bookes, and kneele
+  together.
+* Scene 11: Enter [Charles] the King of France, Navar and Epernoune
+  staying him: enter Queene Mother, and the Cardinall [of Loraine,
+  and Pleshe].
+* Scene 12: Sound Trumpets within, and then all crye vive le Roy two
+  or three times.
+* Scene 13: Enter the Duchesse of Guise, and her Maide.
+* Scene 14: Enter the King of Navarre, Pleshe and Bartus, and
+  their train, with drums and trumpets.
+* Scene 15: Enter [Henry] the King of France, Duke of Guise,
+  Epernoune, and Duke Joyeux.
+* Scene 16: Alarums within.  The Duke Joyeux slaine.
+* Scene 17: Enter a Souldier.
+* Scene 18: Enter the King of Navarre reading of a letter, and
+  Bartus.
+* Scene 19: Enter the Captaine of the guarde, and three murtherers.
+* Scene 20: Enter two [Murtherers] dragging in the Cardenall [of
+  Loraine].
+* Scene 21: Enter Duke Dumayn reading of a letter, with others.
+* Scene 22: Sound Drumme and Trumpets, and enter the King of France,
+  and Navarre, Epernoune, Bartus, Pleshe and Souldiers.
+
+
+
+
+[DRAMATIS PERSONAE]
+
+CHARLES THE NINTH--King of France
+Duke of Anjou--his brother, afterwards KNIG HENRY THE THIRD
+King of Navarre
+PRINCE OF CONDE--his brother
+
+brothers
+DUKE OF GUISE
+CARDINAL OF LORRAINE
+DUKE DUMAINE
+
+SON TO THE DUKE OF GUISE--a boy
+THE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL
+DUKE OF JOYEUX
+EPERNOUN
+PLESHE
+BARTUS
+TWO LORDS OF POLAND
+GONZAGO
+RETES
+MOUNTSORRELL
+COSSINS,--Captain of the King's Guard
+MUGEROUN
+THE CUTPURSE
+LOREINE,--a preacher
+SEROUNE
+RAMUS
+TALEUS
+FRIAR
+SURGEONENGLISH AGENT
+APOTHECARY
+Captain of the Guard, Protestants, Schoolmasters, Soldiers,
+   Murderers, Attendants, &c.
+CATHERINE,--the Queen Mother of France
+MARGARET,--her daughter, wife to the KING OF NAVARRE
+THE OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE
+DUCHESS OF GUISE
+WIFE TO SEROUNE
+Maid to the Duchess of Guise
+
+The Massacre at Paris.  With the Death of the Duke of Guise.
+
+
+
+
+[Scene i]
+
+
+     Enter Charles the French King, [Catherine] the Queene Mother,
+     the King of Navarre, the Prince of Condye, the Lord high
+     Admirall, and [Margaret] the Queene of Navarre, with others.
+
+CHARLES. Prince of Navarre my honourable brother,
+Prince Condy, and my good Lord Admirall,
+wishe this union and religious league,
+Knit in these hands, thus joyn'd in nuptiall rites,
+May not desolve, till death desolve our lives,
+And that the native sparkes of princely love,
+That kindled first this motion in our hearts,
+May still be feweld in our progenye.
+
+NAVAREE. The many favours which your grace has showne,
+From time to time, but specially in this,
+Shall binde me ever to your highnes will,
+In what Queen Mother or your grace commands.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. Thanks sonne Navarre, you see we love 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 love.
+
+CHARLES. Well Madam, let that rest:
+And now my Lords the mariage rites perfourm'd,
+We think it good to goe and consumate
+The rest, with hearing of an holy Masse:
+Sister, I think your selfe will beare us company.
+
+QUEENE MARGARET. I will my good Lord.
+
+CHARLES. The rest that will not goe (my Lords) may stay:
+Come Mother,
+Let us goe to honor this solemnitie.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. Which Ile desolve with bloud and crueltie.
+
+    [Aside.]
+
+     Exit [Charles] the King, Queene Mother, and [Margaret]
+     the Queene of Navar [with others], and manet Navar,
+     the Prince of Condy, and the Lord high Admirall.
+
+NAVARRE. Prince Condy and my good Lord Admiral,
+Now Guise may storme but does us little hurt:
+Having the King, Queene Mother on our side,
+To stop the mallice of his envious heart,
+That seekes to murder all the Protestants:
+Have you not heard of late how he decreed,
+If that the King had given consent thereto,
+That all the protestants that are in Paris,
+Should have been murdered the other night?
+
+ADMIRALL. My Lord I mervaile that th'aspiring Guise
+Dares once adventure without the Kings assent,
+To meddle or attempt such dangerous things.
+
+CONDY. My Lord you need not mervaile at the Guise,
+For what he doth the Pope will ratifie:
+In murder, mischeefe, or in tiranny.
+
+NAVARRE. But he that sits and rules above the clowdes,
+Doth heare and see the praiers of the just:
+And will revenge the bloud of innocents,
+That Guise hath slaine by treason of his heart,
+And brought by murder to their timeles ends.
+
+ADMIRALL. My Lord, but did you mark the Cardinall
+The Guises brother, and the Duke Dumain:
+How they did storme at these your nuptiall rites,
+Because the house of Burbon now comes in,
+And joynes your lineage to the crowne ofFrance?
+
+NAVARRE. And thats the cause that Guise so frowns at us,
+And beates his braines to catch us in his trap,
+Which he hath pitcht within his deadly toyle.
+Come my Lords lets go to the Church and pray,
+That God may still defend the right of France:
+And make his Gospel flourish in this land.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene ii]
+
+
+     Enter the Duke of Guise.
+
+GUISE. If ever Hymen lowr'd at marriage rites,
+And had his alters decks with duskie lightes:
+If ever sunne stainde heaven with bloudy clowdes,
+And made it look with terrour on the worlde:
+If ever day were turnde to ugly night,
+And night made semblance of the hue of hell,
+This day, this houre, this fatall night,
+Shall fully shew the fury of them all.
+Apothecarie.--
+
+     Enter the Pothecarie.
+
+POTHECARIE. My Lord.
+
+GUISE. Now shall I prove and guerdon to the ful,
+The love thou bear'st unto the house of Guise:
+Where are those perfumed gloves which late I sent
+To be poysoned, hast thou done them? speake,
+Will every savour breed a pangue of death?
+
+POTHECARIE. See where they be my Lord, and he that smelles
+but to them, dyes.
+
+GUISE. Then thou remainest resolute.
+
+POTHECARIE. I am my Lord, in what your grace commaundes till death.
+
+GUISE. Thankes my good freend, I wil requite thy love.
+Goe then, present them to the Queene Navarre:
+For she is that huge blemish in our eye,
+That makes these upstart heresies in Fraunce:
+Be gone my freend, present them to her straite.
+Souldyer.--
+
+     Exit Pothecaier.
+
+     Enter a Souldier.
+
+SOULDIER. My Lord.
+
+GUISE. Now come thou forth and play thy tragick part,
+Stand in some window opening neere the street,
+And when thou seest the Admirall ride by,
+Discharge thy musket and perfourme his death:
+And then Ile guerdon thee with store of crownes.
+
+SOULDIER. I will my Lord.
+
+     Exit Souldier.
+
+GUISE. Now Guise, begin those deepe ingendred thoughts
+To burst abroad, those never dying flames,
+Which cannot be extinguisht but by bloud.
+Oft have I leveld, and at last have 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 every peasant to atchive?
+That like I best that flyes beyond my reach.
+Set me to scale the high Peramides,
+And thereon set the Diadem 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 scorn 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,
+Contrive, imagine and fully execute
+Matters of importe, aimed at by many,
+Yet understoode by none.
+For this, hath heaven engendred me of earth,
+For this, the earth sustaines my bodies weight,
+And with this wait Ile counterpoise a Crowne,
+Or with seditions weary all the worlde:
+For this, from Spaine the stately Catholic
+Sends Indian golde to coyne me French ecues:
+For this have I a largesse from the Pope,
+A pension and a dispensation too:
+And by that priviledge to worke upon,
+My policye hath framde religion.
+Religion: O Diabole.
+Fye, I am ashamde, how ever that I seeme,
+To think a word of such a simple sound,
+Of so great matter should be made the ground.
+The gentle King whose pleasure uncontrolde,
+Weakneth his body, and will waste his Realme,
+If I repaire not what he ruinates:
+Him as a childe I dayly winne with words,
+So that for proofe, he barely beares the name:
+I execute, and he sustaines the blame.
+The Mother Queene workes wonders for my sake,
+And in my love entombes the hope of Fraunce:
+Rifling the bowels of her treasurie,
+To supply my wants and necessitie.
+Paris hath full five 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 keep,
+Five hundred fatte Franciscan Fryers and priestes.
+All this and more, if more may be comprisde,
+To bring the will of our desires to end.
+Then Guise,
+Since thou hast all the Cardes within thy hands
+To shuffle or to cut, take this as surest thing:
+That right or wrong, thou deal'st thy selfe a King.
+I but, Navarre. 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 we--
+
+     Pointing to his Sworde.
+
+But first lets follow those in France.
+That hinder our possession to the crowne:
+As Caesar to his souldiers, so say I:
+Those that hate me, will I learn to loath.
+Give me a look, that when I bend the browes,
+Pale death may walke in furrowes of my face:
+A hand, that with a graspe may gripe the world,
+An eare, to heare what my detractors say,
+A royall seate, a scepter and a crowne:
+That those which doe behold them may become
+As men that stand and gase against the Sunne.
+The plot is laide, and things shall come to passe,
+Where resolution strives for victory.
+
+     Exit.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene iii]
+
+
+     Enter the King of Navar and Queen [Margaret], and his [olde]
+     Mother Queen [of Navarre], the Prince of Condy, the Admirall,
+     and the Pothecary with the gloves, and gives them to the olde
+     Queene.
+
+POTHECARIE. Maddame, I beseech your grace to except this simple gift.
+
+OLD QUEENE. Thanks my good freend, holde, take thou this reward.
+
+POTHECARIE. I humbly thank your Majestie.
+
+     Exit Pothecary.
+
+OLD QUEENE. Me thinkes the gloves have a very strong perfume,
+The sent whereof doth make my head to ake.
+
+NAVARRE. Doth not your grace know the man that gave them you?
+
+OLD QUEENE. Not wel, but do remember such a man.
+
+ADMIRALL. Your grace was ill advisde to take them then,
+Considering of these dangerous times.
+
+OLD QUEENE. Help sonne Navarre, I am poysoned.
+
+QUEENE MARGARET. The heavens forbid your highnes such mishap.
+
+NAVARRE. The late suspition of the Duke of Guise,
+Might well have moved your highnes to beware
+How you did meddle with such dangerous giftes.
+
+QUEENE MARGARET. Too late it is my Lord if that be true
+To blame her highnes, but I hope it be
+Only some naturall passion makes her sicke.
+
+OLD QUEENE. O no, sweet Margaret, the fatall poyson
+Doth work within my heart, my brain pan breakes,
+My heart doth faint, I dye.
+
+     She dyes.
+
+NAVARRE. 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 live againe.
+
+QUEENE MARGARET. Let not this heavy chaunce my dearest Lord,
+(For whose effects my soule is massacred)
+Infect thy gracious brest with fresh supply,
+To agravate our sodaine miserie.
+
+ADMIRALL. Come my Lords let us beare her body hence,
+And see it honoured with just solemnitie.
+
+     As they are going, [enter] the Souldier [above, who] dischargeth
+     his musket at the Lord Admirall [and exit].
+
+CONDY. What are you hurt my Lord high Admiral?
+
+ADMIRALL. I my good Lord, shot through the arme.
+
+NAVARRE. We are betraide, come my Lords, and let us goe tell
+the King of this.
+
+ADMIRALL. These are the cursed Guisians that doe seeke our death.
+Oh fatall was this mariage to us all.
+
+     They beare away the [olde] Queene [of Navarre] and goe out.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene iv]
+
+
+     Enter [Charles] the King, [Catherinethe] Queene Mother, Duke of Guise,
+     Duke Anjoy, Duke Demayne [and Cossin, Captain of the Kings Guard].
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. My noble sonne, and princely Duke of Guise,
+Now have we got the fatall stragling deere,
+Within the compasse of a deadly toyle,
+And as we late decreed we may perfourme.
+
+CHARLES. Madam, it wilbe noted through the world,
+An action bloudy and tirannicall:
+Cheefely since under safetie of our word,
+They justly challenge their protection:
+Besides my heart relentes that noble men,
+Onely corrupted in religion,
+Ladies of honor, Knightes and Gentlemen,
+Should for their conscience taste such rutheles ends.
+
+ANJOY. Though gentle minces should pittie others paines,
+Yet will the wisest note their proper greefes:
+And rather seeke to scourge their enemies,
+Then be themselves base subjects to the whip.
+
+GUISE. Me thinkes my Lord, Anjoy hath well advisde
+Your highnes to consider of the thing,
+And rather chuse to seek your countries good,
+Then pittie or releeve these upstart hereticks.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. I hope these reasons mayserve my princely, Sonne,
+To have some care for feare of enemies.
+
+CHARLES. Well Madam, I referre it to your Majestie,
+And to my Nephew heere the Duke of Guise:
+What you determine, I will ratifie.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. Thankes to my princely sonne, then tell me Guise,
+What order wil you set downe for the Massacre?
+
+GUISE. Thus Madame.
+They that shalbe actors in this Massacre,
+Shall weare white crosses on their Burgonets,
+And tye white linnen scarfes about their armes.
+He that wantes these, and is suspect of heresie,
+Shall dye, or be he King or Emperour.
+Then Ile have a peale of ordinance shot from the tower,
+At which they all shall issue out and set the streetes.
+And then the watchword being given, a bell shall ring,
+Which when they heare, they shall begin to kill:
+And never cease untill that bell shall cease,
+Then breath a while.
+
+     Enter the Admirals man.
+
+CHARLES. How now fellow, what newes?
+
+MAN. And it please your grace the Lord high Admirall,
+Riding the streetes was traiterously shot,
+And most humbly intreates your Majestie
+To visite him sick in his bed.
+
+CHARLES. Messenger, tell him I will see him straite.
+
+     Exit Messenger.
+
+What shall we doe now with the Admirall?
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. Your Majesty had best goe visite him,
+And make a shew as if all were well.
+
+CHARLES. Content, I will goe visite the Admirall.
+
+GUISE. And I will goe take order for his death.
+
+     Exit Guise.
+
+     Enter the Admirall in his bed.
+
+CHARLES. How fares it with my Lord high Admiral,
+Hath he been hurt with villaines in the street?
+I vow and sweare as I am King of France,
+To finde and to repay the man with death:
+With death delay'd and torments never usde,
+That durst presume for hope of any gaine,
+To hurt the noble man his sovereign loves.
+
+ADMIRALL. Ah my good Lord, these are the Guisians,
+That seeke to massacre our guiltles lives.
+
+CHARLES. Assure your selfe my good Lord Admirall,
+I deepely sorrow for your trecherous wrong:
+And that I am not more secure my selfe,
+Then I am carefull you should be preserved.
+Cossin, take twenty of our strongest guarde,
+And under your direction see they keep
+All trecherous violence from our noble freend,
+Repaying all attempts with present death,
+Upon the cursed breakers of our peace.
+And so be pacient good Lord Admirall,
+And every hower I will visite you.Exeunt omnes.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene v]
+
+
+     Enter Guise, Anjoy, Dumaine, Gonzago, Retes, Montsorrell, and
+     Souldiers to the massacre.
+
+GUISE. Anjoy, Dumaine, Gonzago, Retes, sweare by
+The argent crosses on your burgonets,
+To kill all that you suspect of heresie.
+
+DUMAINE. I sweare by this to be unmercifull.
+
+ANJOY. I am disguisde and none nows who I am,
+And therfore meane to murder all I meet.
+
+GONZAGO. And so will I.
+
+RETES. And I.
+
+GUISE. Away then, break into the Admirals house.
+
+GETES. I let the Admirall be first dispatcht.
+
+GUISE. The Admirall,
+Cheefe standard bearer to the Lutheranes,
+Shall in the entrance of this Massacre,
+Be murdered in his bed.
+Gonzago conduct them hither, and then
+Beset his house that not a man may live.
+
+ANJOY. That charge is mine. Swizers keepe you the streetes,
+And at ech corner shall the Kings garde stand.
+
+GONZAGO. Come sirs follow me.
+
+     Exit Gonzago and others with him.
+
+ANJOY. Cossin, 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.
+
+RETES. But look my Lord, ther's some in the Admirals house.
+
+     Enter [above Gonzago and others] into the Admirals house,
+     and he in his bed.
+
+ANJOY. In lucky time, come let us keep this lane,
+And slay his servants that shall issue out.
+
+GONZAGO. Where is the Admirall?
+
+ADMIRALL. O let me pray before I dye.
+
+GONZAGO. Then pray unto our Ladye, kisse this crosse.
+
+     Stab him.
+
+ADMIRALL. O God forgive my sins.
+
+GUISE. What, is he dead Gonzago?
+
+GONZAGO. I my Lord.
+
+GUISE. Then throw him down.
+
+     [The body is thrown down. Exeunt Gonzago and rest above.]
+
+ANJOY. Now cosin view him well,
+It may be it is some other, and he escapte.
+
+GUISE. Cosin tis he, I know him by his look.
+See where my Souldier shot him through the arm.
+He mist him neer, but we have strook him now.
+Ah base Shatillian and degenerate,
+Cheef standard bearer to the Lutheranes,
+Thus in despite of thy Religion,
+The Duke of Guise stampes on thy liveles bulke.
+
+Away with him, cut of his head and handes,
+And send them for a present to the Pope:
+And when this just revenge is finished,
+Unto mount Faucon will we dragge his coarse:
+And he that living hated so the crosse,
+Shall being dead, be hangd thereon in chaines.
+
+GUISE. Anjoy, Gonzago, Retes, if that you three,
+Will be as resolute as I and Dumaine:
+There shall not a Hugonet breath in France.
+
+ANJOY. I sweare by this crosse, wee'l not be partiall,
+But slay as many as we can come neer.
+
+GUISE. Mountsorrett, go and shoote the ordinance of,
+That they which have already set the street
+May know their watchword, and then tole the bell,
+And so lets forward to the Massacre.
+
+MOUNTSORRELL. I will my Lord.
+
+     Exit Mountsorrell.
+
+GUISE. And now my Lords let us closely to our busines.
+
+ANJOY. Anjoy will follow thee.
+
+DUMAINE. And so will Dumaine.
+
+     The ordinance being shot of, the bell tolles.
+
+GUISE. Come then, lets away.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+     The Guise enters againe, with all the rest, with their Swords drawne,
+     chasing the Protestants.
+
+GUISE. Tue, tue, tue,
+Let none escape, murder the Hugonets.
+
+ANJOY. Kill them, kill them.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+     Enter Loreine running, the Guise and the rest pursuing him.
+
+GUISE. Loreine, Loreine, follow Loreine.. Sirra,
+Are you a preacher of these heresies?
+
+LOREINE. I am a preacher of the word of God,
+And thou a traitor to thy soule and him.
+
+GUISE. Dearely beloved brother, thus tis written.
+
+     He stabs him.
+
+ANJOY. Stay my Lord, let me begin the psalme.
+
+GUISE. Come dragge him away and throw him in a ditch.
+
+     Exeunt [omnes].
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene vi]
+
+
+     Enter Mountsorrell and knocks at Serouns doore.
+
+SEROUNS WIFE. Who is't that knocks there?
+
+     [Within.]
+
+MOUNTSORRELL. Mountsorrett from the Duke of Guise.
+
+SEROUNS WIFE. Husband come down, heer's one would speak with
+you from the Duke of Guise.
+
+     Enter Seroune.
+
+SEROUNE. To speek with me from such a man as he?
+
+MOUNTSORRELL. I, I, for this Seroune, and thou shalt ha't.
+
+     Shewing his dagger.
+
+SEROUNE. O let me pray before I take my death.
+
+MOUNTSORRELL. Despatch then quickly.
+
+SEROUNE. O Christ my Saviour--
+
+MOUNTSORRELL. Christ, villaine?
+Why, darst thou presume to call on Christ,
+Without the intercession of some Saint?
+Sanctus Jacobus hee was my Saint, pray to him.
+
+SEROUNE. O let me pray unto my God.
+
+MOUNTSORRELL. Then take this with you.
+
+     Stab him [and he falls within and dies].
+
+     Exit.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene vii]
+
+
+     Enter Ramus in his studie.
+
+RAMUS. What fearfull cries come from the river Sene,
+That fright poore Ramus sitting at his book?
+I feare the Guisians have past the bridge,
+And meane once more to menace me.
+
+     Enter Taleus.
+
+TALEUS. Flye Ramus flye, if thou wilt save thy life.
+
+RAMUS. Tell me Taleus, wherfore should I flye?
+
+TALEUS. The Guisians are hard at thy doore,
+And meane to murder us:
+Harke, harke they come, Ile leap out at the window.
+
+     [Runs out from studie.]
+
+RAMUS. Sweet Taleus stay.
+
+     Enter Gonzago and Retes.
+
+GONZAGO. Who goes there?
+
+RETES. Tis Taleus, Ramus bedfellow.
+
+GONZAGO. What art thou?
+
+TALEUS. I am as Ramus is, a Christian.
+
+RETES. O let him goe, he is a catholick.
+
+     Exit Taleus.
+
+     Enter Ramus [out of his studie].
+
+GONZAGO. Come Ramus, more golde, or thou shalt have the stabbe.
+
+RAMUS. Alas I am a scholler, how should I have golde?
+All that I have is but my stipend from the King,
+Which is no sooner receiv'd but it is spent.
+
+     Enter the Guise and Anjoy [, Dumaine, Mountsorrell,
+     with soldiers].
+
+ANJOY. Whom have you there?
+
+RETES. Tis Ramus, the Kings professor of Logick.
+
+GUISE. Stab him.
+
+RAMUS. O good my Lord,
+Wherein hath Ramus been so offencious?
+
+GUISE. Marry sir, in having a smack in all,
+And yet didst never sound any thing to the depth.
+Was it not thou that scoff'dst the Organon,
+And said it was a heape of vanities?
+He that will be a flat decotamest,
+And seen in nothing but Epitomies:
+Is in your judgment thought a learned man.
+And he forsooth must goe and preach in Germany:
+Excepting against Doctors actions,
+And ipse dixi with this quidditie,
+Argumentum testimonis est in arte partialis.
+To contradict which, I say Ramus shall dye:
+How answere you that? your nego argumentum
+Cannot serve, Sirrah, kill him.
+
+RAMUS. O good my Lord, let me but speak a word.
+
+ANJOY. Well, say on.
+
+RAMUS. Not for my life doe I desire this pause,
+But in my latter houre to purge my selfe,
+In that I know the things that I have wrote,
+Which as I heare one Shekins takes it ill,
+Because my places being but three, contain all his:
+I knew the Organon to be confusde,
+And I reduc'd it into better forme.
+And this for Aristotle will I say,
+That he that despiseth him, can nere
+Be good in Logick or Philosophie.
+And thats because the blockish Sorbonests
+Attribute as much unto their workes,
+As to the service of the eternall God.
+
+GUISE. Why suffer you that peasant to declaime?
+Stab him I say and send him to his freends in hell.
+
+ANJOY. Nere was there Colliars sonne so full of pride.
+
+     Kill him. [Close the studie.]
+
+GUISE. My Lord Anjoy, there are a hundred Protestants,
+Which we have chaste into the river Sene,
+That swim about and so preserve their lives:
+How may we doe? I feare me they will live.
+
+DUMAINE. Goe place some men upon the bridge,
+With bowes and cartes to shoot at them they see,
+And sinke them in the river as they swim.
+
+GUISE. Tis well advisde Dumain, goe see it done.
+
+     Exit Dumaine.
+
+And in the mean time my Lord, could we devise,
+To get those pedantes from the King Navarre,
+That are tutors to him and the prince of Condy--
+
+ANJOY. For that let me alone, Cousin stay heer,
+And when you see me in, then follow hard.
+
+     He knocketh, and enter the King of Navarre and Prince
+     of Condy, with their scholmaisters.
+
+How now my Lords, how fare you?
+
+NAVARRE. My Lord, they say
+That all the protestants are massacred.
+
+ANJOY. I, so they are, but yet what remedy:
+I have done all I could to stay this broile.
+
+NAVARRE. But yet my Lord the report doth run,
+That you were one that made this Massacre.
+
+ANJOY. Who I? you are deceived, I rose but now
+
+     Enter [to them] Guise.
+
+GUISE. Murder the Hugonets, take those pedantes hence.
+
+NAVARRE. Thou traitor Guise, lay of thy bloudy hands.
+
+CONDY. Come let us goe tell the King.
+
+     Exeunt [Condy and Navarre].
+
+GUISE. Come sirs, Ile whip you to death with my punniards point.
+
+     He kils them.
+
+ANJOY. Away with them both.
+
+     Exit Anjoy [and soldiers with bodies].
+
+GUISE. And now sirs for this night let our fury stay.
+Yet will we not the Massacre shall end:
+Gonzago posse you to Orleance, Retes to Deep,
+Mountsorrell unto Roan, and spare not one
+That you suspect of heresy. And now stay
+That bel that to the devils mattins rings.
+Now every man put of his burgonet,
+And so convey him closely to his bed.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene viii]
+
+
+     Enter Anjoy, with two Lords of Poland.
+
+ANJOY. My Lords of Poland I must needs confesse,
+The offer of your Prince Elector's, farre
+Beyond the reach of my desertes:
+For Poland is as I have been enformde,
+A martiall people, worthy such a King,
+As hath sufficient counsaile in himselfe,
+To lighten doubts and frustrate subtile foes.
+And such a King whom practice long hath taught,
+To please himselfe with mannage of the warres,
+The greatest warres within our Christian bounds,
+I meane our warres against the Muscovites:
+And on the other side against the Turke,
+Rich Princes both, and mighty Emperours:
+Yet by my brother Charles our King of France,
+And by his graces councell it is thought,
+That if I undertake to weare the crowne
+Of Poland, it may prejudice their hope
+Of my inheritance to the crowne of France:
+For if th'almighty take my brother hence,
+By due discent the Regall seat is mine.
+With Poland therfore must I covenant thus,
+That if by death of Charles, the diadem
+Of France be cast on me, then with your leaves
+I may retire me to my native home.
+If your commission serve to warrant this,
+I thankfully shall undertake the charge
+Of you and yours, and carefully maintaine
+The wealth and safety of your kingdomes right.
+
+LORD. All this and more your highnes shall commaund,
+For Polands crowne and kingly diadem.
+
+ANJOY. Then come my Lords, lets goe.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene ix]
+
+
+
+     Enter two with the Admirals body.
+
+1. Now sirra, what shall we doe with the Admirall?
+
+2. Why let us burne him for a heretick.
+
+1. O no, his bodye will infect the fire, and the fire the aire, and
+so we shall be poysoned with him.
+
+2. What shall we doe then?
+
+1. Lets throw him into the river.
+
+2. Oh twill corrupt the water, and the water the fish, and the
+fish our selves when we eate them.
+
+1. Then throw him into the ditch.
+
+2. No, no, to decide all doubts, be rulde by me, lets hang him
+upon this tree.
+
+1. Agreede.
+
+     They hang him.
+
+     Enter the Duke of Guise, and Queene Mother, and the
+     Cardinall [of Loraine].
+
+GUISE. Now Madame, how like you our lusty Admirall?
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. Beleeve me Guise he becomes the place so well,
+That I could long ere this have wisht him there.
+But come lets walke aside, th'airs not very sweet.
+
+GUISE. No by my faith Madam.
+Sirs, take him away and throw him in some ditch.
+
+     Carry away the dead body.
+
+And now Madam as I understand,
+There anre a hundred Hugonets and more,
+Which in the woods doe horde their synagogue:
+And dayly meet about this time of day,
+thither will I to put them to the sword.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. Doe so sweet Guise, let us delay no time,
+For if these straglers gather head againe,
+And disperse themselves throughout the Realme of France,
+It will be hard for us to worke their deaths.
+
+GUISE. Madam,
+I goe as whirl-winces rage before a storme.
+
+     Exit Guise.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. My Lord of Loraine have you marks of late,
+How Charles our sonne begins for to lament
+For the late nights worke which my Lord of Guise
+Did make in Paris amongst the Hugonites?
+
+CARDINALL. Madam, I have heard him solemnly vow,
+With the rebellious King of Navarre,
+For to revenge their deaths upon us all.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. I, but my Lord, let me alone for that,
+For Katherine must have her will in France:
+As I doe live, so surely shall he dye,
+And Henry then shall weare the diadem.
+And if he grudge or crosse his Mothers will,
+Ile disinherite him and all the rest:
+For Ile rule France, but they shall weare the crowne:
+And if they storme, I then may pull them downe.
+Come my Lord let's goe.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene x]
+
+
+     Enter five or sixe Protestants with bookes, and kneele together.
+
+     Enter also the Guise [and others].
+
+GUISE. Downe with the Hugonites, murder them.
+
+PROTESTANT. O Mounser de Guise, heare me but speake.
+
+GUISE. No villain, no that toung of thine,
+That hath blasphemde the holy Church of Rome,
+Shall drive no plaintes into the Guises eares,
+To make the justice of my heart relent:
+Tue, tue, tue, let none escape:
+
+     Kill them.
+
+So, dragge them away.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+
+[Scene xi]
+
+
+     Enter [Charles] the King of France, Navar and Epernoune
+     staying him: enter Queene Mother, and the Cardinall [of
+     Loraine, and Pleshe].
+
+CHARLES. O let me stay and rest me heer a while,
+A griping paine hath ceasde upon my heart:
+A sodaine pang, the messenger of death.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. O say not so, thou kill'st thy mothers heart.
+
+CHARLES. I must say so, paine forceth me to complain.
+
+NAVARRE. Comfort your selfe my Lord I have no doubt,
+But God will sure restore you to your health.
+
+CHARLES. O no, my loving brother of Navarre.
+I have deserv'd a scourge I must confesse,
+Yet is there pacience of another sort,
+Then to misdoe the welfare of their King:
+God graunt my neerest freends may prove no worse.
+O horde me up, my sight begins to faire,
+My sinnewes shrinke, my brain turns upside downe,
+My heart doth break, I faint and dye.
+
+     He dies.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. 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 us what we doe:
+My Lords, what resteth 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 us.
+
+Epernoune  Madam, I will.
+
+     Exit Epernoune.
+
+QUEENE MOTHER. And now my Lords after these funerals be done,
+We will with all the speed we can, provide
+For Henries coronation from Polonia:
+Come let us take his body hence.
+
+     All goe out, but Navarre and Pleshe.
+
+NAVARRE. And now Navarre whilste that these broiles doe last,
+My opportunity may serve me fit,
+To steale from France, and hye me to my home.
+For heers no saftie in the Realme for me,
+And now that Henry is cal'd from Polland,
+It is my due by just succession:
+And therefore as speedily as I can perfourme,
+Ile muster up an army secretdy,
+For feare that Guise joyn'd with the King of Spaine,
+Might seek to crosse me in mine enterprise.
+But God that alwaies doth defend the right,
+Will shew his mercy and preserve us still.
+
+PLESHE. The vertues of our poor Religion,
+Cannot but march with many graces more:
+Whose army shall discomfort all your foes,
+And at the length in Pampelonia crowne,
+In spite of Spaine and all the popish power,
+That hordes it from your highnesse wrongfully:
+Your Majestie her rightfull Lord and Soveraigne.
+
+Navarre  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 while time doth serve.
+
+     Exeunt.
+
+
+
+
+
+[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 hin
+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 west bome,
+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, drawingg weapons on
+     the ground.
+
+
+
+
+     FINIS.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Massacre at Paris by Marlowe
+
diff --git a/old/msprs10.zip b/old/msprs10.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3808c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/msprs10.zip