Chapter XIII: Act THE FIFTH: Scene I (1)

_Enter_[301] _the_ KING, LEICESTER,
_the_ BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, _and_ TRUSSEL.

_Leices._ Be patient, good my lord, cease to lament,
Imagine Killingworth Castle were your court,
And that you lay for pleasure here a space,
Not of compulsion or necessity.

_Edw._ Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me,
Thy speeches long ago had eased my sorrows;
For kind and loving hast thou always been.
The griefs of private men are soon allayed,
But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck,
Runs to an herb[302] that closeth up the wounds; 10
But, when the imperial lion's flesh is gored,
He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw,
[And] highly scorning that the lowly earth
Should drink his blood, mounts up to the air.
And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind
The ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb,
And that unnatural queen, false Isabel,
That thus hath pent and mewed me in a prison;
For such outrageous passions cloy my soul,
As with the wings of rancour and disdain, 20
Full oft[en] am I soaring up to heaven,
To plain me to the gods against them both.
But when I call to mind I am a king,
Methinks I should revenge me of my wrongs,
That Mortimer and Isabel have done.
But what are kings, when regiment[303] is gone,
But perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
My nobles rule, I bear the name of king;
I wear the crown, but am controlled by them,
By Mortimer, and my unconstant queen, 30
Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy;
Whilst I am lodged within this cave of care,
Where sorrow at my elbow still attends,
To company my heart with sad laments,
That bleeds within me for this strange exchange.
But tell me, must I now resign my crown,
To make usurping Mortimer a king?

_Winch._ Your grace mistakes, it is for England's good,
And princely Edward's right we crave the crown.

_Edw._ No, 'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head; 40
For he's a lamb, encompassèd by wolves,
Which in a moment will abridge his life.
But if proud Mortimer do wear this crown,
Heaven turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire![304]
Or like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon,
Engirt the temples of his hateful head;
So shall not England's vine[305] be perished,
But Edward's name survives,[306] though Edward dies.

_Leices._ My lord, why waste you thus the time away?
They stay your answer; will you yield your crown? 50

_Edw._ Ah, Leicester, weigh how hardly I can brook
To lose my crown and kingdom without cause;
To give ambitious Mortimer my right,
That like a mountain overwhelms my bliss,
In which extreme my mind here murdered is.
But what the heavens appoint, I must obey!
Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too;
[_Taking off the crown._
Two kings in England cannot reign at once.
But stay awhile, let me be[307] king till night,
That I may gaze upon this glittering crown; 60
So shall my eyes receive their last content,
My head, the latest honour due to it,
And jointly both yield up their wishèd right.
Continue ever thou celestial sun;
Let never silent night possess this clime:
Stand still you watches of the element;
All times and seasons, rest you at a stay,
That Edward may be still fair England's king!
But day's bright beam doth vanish fast away,
And needs I must resign my wishèd crown. 70
Inhuman creatures! nursed with tiger's milk!
Why gape you for your sovereign's overthrow!
My diadem I mean, and guiltless life.
See, monsters, see, I'll wear my crown again!
[_He puts on the crown._
What, fear you not the fury of your king?
But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly led,
They pass not for thy frowns as late they did,
But seek to make a new-elected king!
Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts,
Which thoughts are martyrèd with endless torments, 80
And in this torment comfort find I none,
But that I feel the crown upon my head,
And therefore let me wear it yet awhile.

_Trus_. My lord, the parliament must have present news,
And therefore say will you resign or no?
[_The_ KING _rageth._
_Edw_. I'll not resign, but whilst I live[308] [be king].
Traitors, be gone! and join you with Mortimer!
Elect, conspire, install, do what you will:--
Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries!

_Winch._ This answer we'll return, and so farewell. 90

_Leices._ Call them again, my lord, and speak them fair;
For if they go, the prince shall lose his right.

_Edw._ Call thou them back, I have no power to speak.

_Leices._ My lord, the king is willing to resign.

_Winch._ If he be not, let him choose.

_Edw._ O would I might! but heavens and earth conspire
To make me miserable! Here receive my crown;
Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine
Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime.
He of you all that most desires my blood, 100
And will be called the murderer of a king,
Take it. What, are you moved? pity you me?
Then send for unrelenting Mortimer,
And Isabel, whose eyes, being turned to steel,
Will sooner sparkle fire than shed a tear.
Yet stay, for rather than I'll look on them,
Here, here! [_He gives them the crown._
Now, sweet God of heaven,
Make me despise this transitory pomp,
And sit for aye enthronizèd in heaven!
Come, death, and with thy fingers close my eyes, 110
Or if I live, let me forget myself.[309]

_Winch._ My lord.

_Edw._ Call me not lord; away--out of my sight:
Ah, pardon me: grief makes me lunatic!
Let not that Mortimer protect my son;
More safety there is in a tiger's jaws,
Than his embracements--bear this to the queen,
Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs;
[_Gives a handkerchief._
If with the sight thereof she be not moved,
Return it back and dip it in my blood. 120
Commend me to my son, and bid him rule
Better than I. Yet how have I transgressed,
Unless it be with too much clemency?

_Trus._ And thus most humbly do we take our leave.
[_Exeunt_ BISHOP _and_ TRUSSEL.

_Edw._ Farewell; I know the next news that they bring
Will be my death; and welcome shall it be;
To wretched men, death is felicity.

_Enter_ BERKELEY, _who gives a paper to_ LEICESTER.

_Leices._ Another post! what news brings he?

_Edw._ Such news as I expect--come, Berkeley, come,
And tell thy message to my naked breast. 130

_Berk._ My lord, think not a thought so villainous
Can harbour in a man of noble birth.
To do your highness service and devoir,
And save you from your foes, Berkeley would die.

_Leices._ My lord, the council of[310] the queen commands
That I resign my charge.

_Edw._ And who must keep me now? Must you, my lord?

_Berk._ I, my most gracious lord--so 'tis decreed.

_Edw._ [_taking the paper._] By Mortimer, whose name is
written here!
Well may I rent his name that rends my heart! 140
[_Tears it._
This poor revenge has something eased my mind.
So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper!
Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too!

_Berk._ Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight.

_Edw._ Whither you will, all places are alike,
And every earth is fit for burial.

_Leices._ Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you.

_Berk._ Even so betide my soul as I use him.

_Edw._ Mine enemy hath pitied my estate,
And that's the cause that I am now removed. 150

_Berk._ And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel?

_Edw._ I know not; but of this am I assured,
That death ends all, and I can die but once.
Leicester, farewell!

_Leices._ Not yet, my lord; I'll bear you on your way.
[_Exeunt omnes._

SCENE II.

_Enter_[311] MORTIMER _and_ QUEEN ISABEL.

_Y. Mor._ Fair Isabel, now have we our desire,
The proud corrupters of the light-brained king
Have done their homage to the lofty gallows,
And he himself lies in captivity.
Be ruled by me, and we will rule the realm.
In any case take heed of childish fear,
For now we hold an old wolf[312] by the ears,
That, if he slip, will seize upon us both,
And gripe the sorer, being grip'd himself.
Think therefore, madam, that [it] imports us[313] much 10
To erect your son with all the speed we may,
And that I be protector over him;
For our behoof, 'twill[314] bear the greater sway
Whenas a king's name shall be under writ.

_Queen._ Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel,
Be thou persuaded that I love thee well,
And therefore, so the prince my son be safe,
Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes,
Conclude against his father what thou wilt,
And I myself will willingly subscribe. 20

_Y. Mor._ First would I hear news he were deposed,
And then let me alone to handle him.

_Enter_ Messenger.

Letters! from whence?

_Mess._ From Killingworth, my lord.

_Queen._ How fares my lord the king?

_Mess._ In health, madam, but full of pensiveness.

_Queen._ Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief!

_Enter_ WINCHESTER[315] _with the Crown._

Thanks, gentle Winchester. [_To the Messenger._] Sirrah, be gone.
[_Exit Messenger._
_Winch._ The king hath willingly resigned his crown.

_Queen._ O happy news! send for the prince, my son.

_Winch._ Further, or this letter[316] was sealed,
Lord Berkeley came, 30
So that he now is gone from Killingworth;
And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot
To set his brother free; no more but so.
The Lord of Berkeley is so [as?] pitiful
As Leicester that had charge of him before.

_Queen._ Then let some other be his guardian.

_Y. Mor._ Let me alone, here is the privy seal.
[_Exit_ WINCHESTER.
Who's there?--call hither Gurney and Matrevis.
To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift,
Berkeley shall be discharged, the king removed, 40
And none but we shall know where he lieth.[317]

_Queen._ But, Mortimer, as long as he survives,
What safety rests for us, or for my son?

_Y. Mor._ Speak, shall he presently be despatched and die?

_Queen._ I would he were, so 'twere not by my means.

_Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.

_Y. Mor._ Enough.--
Matrevis, write a letter presently
Unto the Lord of Berkeley from ourself
That he resign the king to thee and Gurney;
And when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name. 50

_Mat._ It shall be done, my lord.

_Y. Mor._ Gurney.

_Gur._ My lord.

_Y. Mor._ As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer,
Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please,
Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop,
And neither give him kind word nor good look.

_Gur._ I warrant you, my lord.

_Y. Mor._ And this above the rest: because we hear
That Edmund casts to work his liberty,
Remove him still from place to place by night,
Till at the last he come to Killingworth, 60
And then from thence to Berkeley back again?
And by the way, to make him fret the more,
Speak curstly to him; and in any case
Let no man comfort him if he chance to weep,
But amplify his grief with bitter words.

_Mat._ Fear not, my lord, we'll do as you command.

_Y. Mor._ So now away; post thitherwards amain.

_Queen._ Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king?
Commend me humbly to his majesty,
And tell him that I labour all in vain 70
To ease his grief, and work his liberty;
And bear him this as witness of my love. [_Gives a ring._

_Mat._ I will, madam.
[_Exeunt_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY; _manent_ ISABEL _and_ MORTIMER.

_Enter the_ Young Prince, _and the_ EARL OF KENT
_talking with him_.

_Y. Mor._ Finely dissembled? Do so still, sweet queen.
Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent.

_Queen._ Something he whispers in his childish ears.

_Y. Mor._ If he have such access unto the prince,
Our plots and stratagems will soon be dashed.

_Queen._ Use Edmund friendly as if all were well.

_Y. Mor._ How fares my honourable lord of Kent? 80

_Kent._ In health, sweet Mortimer: how fares your grace?

_Queen._ Well, if my lord your brother were enlarged.

_Kent._ I hear of late he hath deposed himself.

_Queen._ The more my grief.

_Y. Mor._ And mine.

_Kent._ Ah, they do dissemble? [_Aside._

_Queen._ Sweet son, come hither, I must talk with thee.

_Y. Mor._ You being his uncle, and the next of blood,
Do look to be protector o'er the prince.

_Kent._ Not I, my lord; who should protect the son, 90
But she that gave him life? I mean the queen.

_Prince._ Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown:
Let him be king--I am too young to reign.

_Queen._ But be content, seeing 'tis[318] his highness' pleasure.

_Prince._ Let me but see him first, and then I will.

_Kent._ I, do, sweet nephew.

_Queen._ Brother, you know it is impossible.

_Prince._ Why, is he dead?

_Queen._ No, God forbid.

_Kent._ I would those words proceeded from your heart. 100

_Y. Mor._ Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him,
That wast a cause of his imprisonment?

_Kent._ The more cause have I now to make amends.

_Y. Mor._ I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false
Should come about the person of a prince.
My lord, he hath betrayed the king his brother,
And therefore trust him not.

_Prince._ But he repents, and sorrows for it now.

_Queen._ Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me.

_Prince._ With you I will, but not with Mortimer. 110

_Y. Mor._ Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer?
Then I will carry thee by force away.

_Prince._ Help, uncle Kent, Mortimer will wrong me.

_Queen._ Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends;
Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent.

_Kent._ Sister, Edward is my charge, redeem him.

_Queen._ Edward is my son, and I will keep him.

_Kent._ Mortimer shall know that he hath wrongèd me!--
Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle,
And rescue aged Edward from his foes, 120
To be revenged on Mortimer and thee.
[_Aside. Exeunt omnes._

SCENE III.

_Enter_[319] MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY _with the_ KING.

_Mat._ My lord, be not pensive, we are your friends;
Men are ordained to live in misery,
Therefore come,--dalliance dangereth our lives.

_Edw._ Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go?
Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest?
Must I be vexèd like the nightly bird,
Whose sight is loathsome to all wingèd fowls?
When will the fury of his mind assuage?
When will his heart be satisfied with blood?
If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast, 10
And give my heart to Isabel and him;
It is the chiefest mark they level at.

_Gur._ Not so, my liege, the queen hath given this charge
To keep your grace in safety;
Your passions make your dolours to increase.

_Edw._ This usage makes my misery to increase.
But can my air[320] of life continue long
When all my senses are annoyed with stench?
Within a dungeon England's king is kept,
Where I am starved for want of sustenance. 20
My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs,
That almost rent the closet of my heart;
Thus lives old[321] Edward not relieved by any,
And so must die, though pitièd by many.
O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst,
And clear my body from foul excrements!

_Mat._ Here's channel water, as your charge is given;
Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace.

_Edw._ Traitors, away! what, will you murder me,
Or choke your sovereign with puddle water? 30

_Gur._ No;
But wash your face, and shave away your beard,
Lest you be known and so be rescued.

_Mat._ Why strive you thus? your labour is in vain?

_Edw._ The wren may strive against the lion's strength,
But all in vain: so vainly do I strive
To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand.
[_They wash him with puddle water, and shave his beard away._
Immortal powers! that knows the painful cares
That waits upon my poor distressèd soul!
O level all your looks upon these daring men, 40
That wrongs their liege and sovereign, England's king.
O Gaveston, 'tis for thee that I am wronged,
For me, both thou and both the Spencers died!
And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take.
The Spencers' ghosts, wherever they remain,
Wish well to mine; then tush, for them I'll die.

_Mat._ 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity.
Come, come away; now put the torches out,
We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth.

_Enter_ KENT.

_Gur._ How now, who comes there? 50

_Mat._ Guard the king sure: it is the Earl of Kent.

_Enter_ Soldiers.

_Edw._ O gentle brother, help to rescue me!

_Mat._ Keep them asunder; thrust in the king.

_Kent._ Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word.

_Gur._ Lay hands upon the earl for his assault.

_Kent._ Lay down your weapons, traitors, yield the king.

_Mat._ Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die.

_Kent._ Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus!

_Gur._ Bind him and so convey him to the court.

_Kent._ Where is the court but here? here is the king; 60
And I will visit him; why stay you me?

_Mat._ The court is where Lord Mortimer remains;
Thither shall your honour go; and so farewell.
[_Exeunt_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY, _with the_ KING.
KENT _and the_ Soldiers _remain_.

_Kent._ O miserable is that commonweal,
Where lords keep courts, and kings are locked in prison?

_Sol._ Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the court.

_Kent._ I, lead me whither you will, even to my death,
Seeing that my brother cannot be released.
[_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_[322] YOUNG MORTIMER.

_Y. Mor._ The king must die, or Mortimer goes down.
The commons now begin to pity him.
Yet he that is the cause of Edward's death,
Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age;
And therefore will I do it cunningly.
This letter, written by a friend of ours,
Contains his death, yet bids them save his life. [_Reads._
_Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est
Fear not to kill the king 'tis good he die._
But read it thus, and that's another sense: 10
_Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est
Kill not the king 'tis good to fear the worst._
Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go,
That, being dead, if it chance to be found,
Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame,
And we be quit that caused it to be done.
Within this room is locked the messenger,
That shall convey it, and perform the rest:
And by a secret token that he bears,
Shall he be murdered when the deed is done.-- 20
Lightborn, come forth!

_Enter_ LIGHTBORN.

Art thou so resolute as thou wast?

_Light._ What else, my lord? and far more resolute.

_Y. Mor._ And hast thou cast how to accomplish it?

_Light._ I, I, and none shall know which way he died.

_Y. Mor._ But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent.

_Light._ Relent! ha, ha! I use much to relent.

_Y. Mor._ Well, do it bravely, and be secret.

_Light._ You shall not need to give instructions;
'Tis not the first time I have killed a man. 30
I learned in Naples how to poison flowers;
To strangle with a lawn thrust through[323] the throat;
To pierce the windpipe with the needle's point;
Or whilst one is asleep, to take a quill
And blow a little powder in his ears:
Or open his mouth and pour quicksilver down.
And yet I have a braver way than these.

_Y. Mor._ What's that?

_Light._ Nay, you shall pardon me; none shall know my tricks.

_Y. Mor._ I care not how it is, so it be not spied. 40
Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis.
At every ten mile end thou hast a horse.
Take this, away, and never see me more.

_Light._ No!

_Y. Mor._ No;
Unless thou bring me news of Edward's death.

_Light._ That will I quickly do; farewell, my lord. [_Exit._

_Y. Mor._ The prince I rule, the queen do I command,
And with a lowly congé to the ground,
The proudest lords salute me as I pass: 50
I seal, I cancel, I do what I will:
Feared am I more than loved--let me be feared;
And when I frown, make all the court look pale.
I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes,
Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy.
They thrust upon me the protectorship,
And sue to me for that that I desire.
While at the council-table, grave enough,
And not unlike a bashful puritan,
First I complain of imbecility, 60
Saying it is _onus quam gravissimum;_
Till being interrupted by my friends,
_Suscepi_ that _provinciam_ as they term it;
And to conclude, I am Protector now.
Now is all sure, the queen and Mortimer
Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rules us.
Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance;
And what I list command who dare control?
_Major sum quam cui possit fortuna nocere._[324]
And that this be the coronation-day, 70
It pleaseth me, and Isabel the queen.
[_Trumpets within._
The trumpets sound, I must go take my place.

_Enter_[325] _the_ YOUNG KING, ARCHBISHOP,[326] CHAMPION,
Nobles, QUEEN.

_Archbishop._ Long live King Edward, by the grace of God,
King of England, and Lord of Ireland!

_Cham._ If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew,
Dare but affirm that Edward's not true king,
And will avouch his saying with the sword,
I am the champion that will combat with him.

_Y. Mor._ None comes, sound trumpets.

_King._ Champion, here's to thee. [_Gives a purse._

_Queen._ Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge. 80

_Enter_ Soldiers, _with the_ EARL OF KENT _prisoner_.

_Y. Mor._ What traitor have we there with blades and bills?

_Sol._ Edmund, the Earl of Kent.

_King._ What hath he done?

_Sol._ 'A would have taken the king away perforce,
As we were bringing him to Killingworth.

_Y. Mor._ Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak.

_Kent._ Mortimer, I did; he is our king,
And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown.

_Y. Mor._ Strike off his head, he shall have martial law.

_Kent._ Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee.

_King._ My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live. 90

_Y. Mor._ My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die.

_Kent._ Stay, villains!

_King._ Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him,
Entreat my Lord Protector for his life.

_Queen._ Son, be content; I dare not speak a word.

_King._ Nor I, and yet methinks I should command;
But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him,--
My lord, if you will let my uncle live,
I will requite it when I come to age.

_Y. Mor._ Tis for your highness' good, and for the realm's.-- 100
How often shall I bid you bear him hence?

_Kent._ Art thou king? must I die at thy command?

_Y. Mor._ At our command! once more away with him.

_Kent._ Let me but stay and speak; I will not go.
Either my brother or my son is king,
And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood.
And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me?
[_They hale_ KENT _away, and carry him to be beheaded_.
_King._ What safety may I look for at his hands,
If that my uncle shall be murdered thus?

_Queen._ Fear not, sweet boy, I'll guard thee from thy foes; 110
Had Edmund lived, he would have sought thy death.
Come, son, we'll ride a hunting in the park.

_King._ And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us?

_Queen._ He is a traitor; think not on him; come.
[_Exeunt omnes._

SCENE V.

_Enter_[327] MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.

_Mat._ Gurney, I wonder the king dies not,
Being in a vault up to the knees in water,
To which the channels of the castle run,
From whence a damp continually ariseth,
That were enough to poison any man,
Much more a king brought up so tenderly.

_Gur._ And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight
I opened but the door to throw him meat,
And I was almost stifled with the savour.

_Mat._ He hath a body able to endure 10
More than we can inflict: and therefore now
Let us assail his mind another while.

_Gur._ Send for him out thence, and I will anger him.

_Mat._ But stay, who's this?

_Enter_ LIGHTBORN.

_Light._ My Lord Protector greets you.

_Gur._ What's here? I know not how to construe it.

_Mat._ Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce;
_Edwardum occidere nolite timere,_
That's his meaning.

_Light._ Know ye this token? I must have the king.

_Mat._ I, stay awhile, thou shalt have answer straight. 20
This villain's sent to make away the king. [_Aside._

_Gur._ I thought as much. [_Aside._

_Mat._ And when the murder's done,
See how he must be handled for his labour.
_Pereat iste!_ Let him have the king. [_Aside._
What else? here is the keys, this is the lake,[328]
Do as you are commanded by my lord.

_Light._ I know what I must do; get you away.
Yet be not far off, I shall need your help;
See that in the next room I have a fire,
And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot. 30

_Mat._ Very well.

_Gur._ Need you anything besides?

_Light._ What else? A table and a feather-bed.

_Gur._ That's all?

_Light._ I, I; so, when I call you, bring
It in.

_Mat._ Fear not thou that.

_Gur._ Here's a light,
To go into the dungeon.
[_Gives light, and exit with_ MATREVIS.
_Light_. So[329] now
Must I about this gear;[330] ne'er was there any
So finely handled as this king shall be.
Foh, here's a place indeed, with all my heart!

_Edw_. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou?

_Light._ To comfort you, and bring you joyful news. 40

_Edw._ Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks.
Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me.

_Light._ To murder you, my most gracious lord!
Far is it from my heart to do you harm.
The queen sent me to see how you were used,
For she relents at this your misery:
And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears,
To see a king in this most piteous state?

_Edw._ Weep'st thou already? list awhile to me.
And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is, 50
Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus,
Yet will it melt, ere I have done my tale.
This dungeon where they keep me is the sink
Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.

_Light._ O villains!

_Edw._ And there in mire and puddle have I stood
This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep,
One plays continually upon a drum.
They give me bread and water, being a king;
So that, for want of sleep and sustenance, 60
My mind's distempered, and my body's numbed,
And whether I have limbs or no I know not.
O, would my blood dropped out from every vein,
As doth this water from my tattered[331] robes.
Tell Isabel, the queen, I looked not thus,
When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,
And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont.

_Light._ O speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart.
Lie on this bed,[332] and rest yourself awhile.

_Edw._ These looks of thine can harbour nought but death: 70
I see my tragedy written in thy brows.
Yet stay; awhile forbear thy bloody hand,
And let me see the stroke before it comes,
That[333] even then when I shall lose my life,
My mind may be more steadfast on my God.

_Light._ What means your highness to mistrust me thus?

_Edw._ What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus?

_Light._ These hands were never stained with innocent blood,
Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's. 79

_Edw._ Forgive my thought[334] for having such a thought.
One jewel have I left, receive thou this. [_Giving jewel._
Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause,
But every joint shakes as I give it thee.
O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart,
Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul!
Know that I am a king: O! at that name
I feel a hell of grief; where is my crown?
Gone, gone; and do I remain alive?[335]

_Light._ You're overwatched, my lord; lie down and rest.

_Edw._ But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep, 90
For not these ten days have these eyes' lids[336] closed.
Now as I speak they fall, and yet with fear
Open again. O wherefore sitt'st thou here?

_Light._ If you mistrust me, I'll begone, my lord.

_Edw._ No, no, for if thou mean'st to murder me,
Thou wilt return again, and therefore stay. [_Sleeps._

_Light._ He sleeps.

_Edw._ [_awakes_.] O let me not die yet;[337] stay,
O stay a while!

_Light._ How now, my lord?

_Edw._ Something still buzzeth in mine ears, 100
And tells me if I sleep I never wake;
This fear is that which makes me tremble thus.
And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come.

_Light._ To rid thee of thy life; Matrevis, come.

_Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.

_Edw._ I am too weak and feeble to resist:
Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul.

_Light._ Run for the table.

_Edw._ O spare me, or despatch me in a trice.

_Light._ So, lay the table down, and stamp on it,
But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body. 110
[KING EDWARD _is murdered._

_Mat._ I fear me that this cry will raise the town,
And therefore, let us take horse and away.

_Light._ Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done?

_Gur._ Excellent well: take this for thy reward.
[GURNEY _stabs_ LIGHTBORN.
Come, let us cast the body in the moat,
And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord:
Away!
[_Exeunt with the bodies._

SCENE VI.

_Enter_[338] MORTIMER _and_ MATREVIS.

_Y. Mor._ Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?

_Mat._ I, my good lord; I would it were undone.

_Y. Mor._ Matrevis, if thou now[339] growest penitent
I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore chuse,
Whether thou wilt be secret in this,
Or else die by the hand of Mortimer.

_Mat._ Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear,
Betray us both, therefore let me fly.

_Y. Mor._ Fly to the savages.

_Mat._ I humbly thank your honour. 10

_Y. Mor._ As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree;
And others are but shrubs compared to me.
All tremble at my name, and I fear none;
Let's see who dare impeach me for his death.

_Enter the_ QUEEN.

_Queen._ Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news
His father's dead, and we have murdered him.

_Y. Mor._ What if he have? the king is yet a child.

_Queen._ I,[340] but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands,
And vows to be revenged upon us both.
Into the council-chamber he is gone, 20
To crave the aid and succour of his peers.
Aye me! see where he comes, and they with him;
Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy.

_Enter the_ KING, _with the_ Lords.

_First[341] Lord._ Fear not, my lord, know that you are a king.

_King._ Villain!

_Y. Mor._ Ho,[342] now, my lord!

_King._ Think not that I am frighted with thy words!
My father's murdered through thy treachery;
And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse
Thy hateful and accursèd head shall lie,
To witness to the world, that by thy means 30
His kingly body was too soon interred.

_Queen._ Weep not, sweet son!

_King._ Forbid me not to weep, he was my father;
And, had you loved him half so well as I,
You could not bear his death thus patiently.
But you, I fear, conspired with Mortimer.

_First[343] Lord._ Why speak you not unto my lord the king?

_Y. Mor._ Because I think scorn to be accused.
Who is the man dares say I murdered him?

_King._ Traitor! in me my loving father speaks, 40
And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him.

_Y. Mor._ But has your grace no other proof than this?

_King._ Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.

_Y. Mor._ False Gurney hath betrayed me and himself. [_Aside._

_Queen._ I feared as much; murder cannot be hid. [_Aside._

_Y. Mor._ It is my hand; what gather you by this?

_King._ That thither thou didst send a murderer.

_Y. Mor._ What murderer? Bring forth the man I sent.

_King._ I, Mortimer, thou knowest that he is slain;
And so shalt thou be too. Why stays he here? 50
Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth,
Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up,
But bring his head back presently to me.

_Queen._ For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer.

_Y. Mor._ Madam, entreat not, I will rather die,
Than sue for life unto a paltry boy.

_King._ Hence with the traitor! with the murderer!

_Y. Mor._ Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel
There is a point, to which when men aspire,
They tumble headlong down: that point I touched, 60
And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher,
Why should I grieve at my declining fall?
Farewell, fair queen; weep not for Mortimer,
That scorns the world, and, as a traveller,
Goes to discover countries yet unknown.

_King._ What! suffer you the traitor to delay?
[MORTIMER _is taken away._
_Queen._ As thou receivedst thy life from me,
Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer.

_King._ This argues that you spilt my father's blood,
Else would you not entreat for Mortimer. 70

_Queen._ I spill his blood? no.[344]

_King._ I, madam, you; for so the rumour runs.

_Queen._ That rumour is untrue; for loving thee,
Is this report raised on poor Isabel.

_King._ I do not think her so unnatural.

_Second[345] Lord._ My lord, I fear me it will prove too true.

_King._ Mother, you are suspected for his death,
And therefore we commit you to the Tower
Till farther trial may be made thereof;
If you be guilty, though I be your son, 80
Think not to find me slack or pitiful.

_Queen._ Nay, to my death, for too long have I lived,
Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days.

_King._ Away with her, her words enforce these tears,
And I shall pity her if she speak again.

_Queen._ Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord,
And with the rest accompany him to his[346] grave?

_Second[2] Lord._ Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall
hence.

_Queen._ He hath forgotten me; stay, I am his mother.

_Second[347] Lord._ That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go.

_Queen._ Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief. 90
[_Exit._

_Re-enter a_ Lord, _with the head of_ MORTIMER.

_Lord._ My lord, here is the head of Mortimer.

_King._ Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie;
And bring my funeral robes. Accursèd head,
Could I have ruled thee then, as I do now,
Thou had'st not hatched this monstrous treachery.
Here comes the hearse; help me to mourn, my lords.
Sweet father, here unto thy murdered ghost
I offer up this wicked traitor's head;
And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes,
Be witness of my grief and innocency. 100
[_Exeunt._

THE MASSACRE AT PARIS.

Of _The Massacre at Paris_ there is only one early edition, an undated 8vo. (printed _circ._ 1596?) The title is:--

_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 Marlowe. At London Printed by E. A. for Edward White, dwelling neere the little North doore of S. Paules Church at the signe of the Gun._

_PERSONS REPRESENTED._

CHARLES THE NINTH, _king of France._
DUKE OF ANJOU, _his Brother, afterwards_ KING HENRY
THE THIRD.
KING OF NAVARRE.
PRINCE OF CONDÉ, _his Cousin._

DUKE OF GUISE, }
CARDINAL OF LORRAINE,} _Brothers._
DUKE DUMAINE, }

Son to the DUKE OF GUISE, _a Boy._
THE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL.
DUKE JOYEUX.
EPERNOUN.
PLESHÈ.
BARTUS.
TWO LORDS OF POLAND.
GONZAGO.
RETES.
MOUNTSORRELL.
MUGEROUN.
LOREINE, _a Preacher._
SEROUNE.
RAMUS.
TALÆUS.
Friar.
Surgeon.
English Agent.
Apothecary.
Cutpurse.
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.

SCENE I.

_Enter_ CHARLES,[348] _the French king_; CATHERINE,
_the Queen-Mother; the_ KING OF NAVARRE; MARGARET,
_Queen of Navarre; the_ PRINCE OF CONDÉ;
_the_ LORD HIGH ADMIRAL; _the_ OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE;
_with others_.

_Char._ Prince of Navarre, my honourable brother,
Prince Condé, and my good Lord Admiral,
I wish this union and religious league,
Knit in these hands, thus joined in nuptial rites,
May not dissolve till death dissolve our lives;
And that the native sparks of princely love,
That kindled first this motion in our hearts,
May still be fuelled in our progeny.

_Nav._ The many favours which your grace hath shown,
From time to time, but specially in this, 10
Shall bind me ever to your highness' will,
In what Queen-Mother or your grace commands.

_Cath._ Thanks, son Navarre. You see we love you well,
That link you in marriage with our daughter here;
And, as you know, our difference in religion
Might be a means to cross you in your love,--

_Char._ Well, madam, let that rest.--
And now, my lords, the marriage rites performed,
We think it good to go and cònsummate
The rest with hearing of a holy mass.-- 20
Sister, I think yourself will bear us company.

_Mar._ I will, my good lord.

_Char._ The rest that will not go, my lords, may stay.--
Come, mother,
Let us go to honour this solemnity.

_Cath._ Which I'll dissolve with blood and cruelty. [_Aside._
[_Exeunt all except the_ KING OF NAVARRE, CONDÉ,
_and the_ ADMIRAL.

_Nav._ Prince Condé, and my good Lord Admiral,
Now Guise may storm, but do us little hurt,
Having the king, Queen-Mother on our sides,
To stop the malice of his envious heart, 30
That seeks 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 murderèd the other night?

_Adm._ My lord, I marvel that th' aspiring Guise
Dares once adventure, without the king's consent,
To meddle or attempt such dangerous things.

_Con._ My lord, you need not marvel at the Guise,
For what he doth, the Pope will ratify, 40
In murder, mischief, or in tyranny.

_Nav._ But he that sits and rules above the clouds
Doth hear and see the prayers of the just,
And will revenge the blood of innocents,
That Guise hath slain by treason of his heart,
And brought by murder to their timeless[349] ends.

_Adm._ My lord, but did you mark the Cardinal,
The Guise's brother, and the Duke Dumaine,
How they did storm at these your nuptial rites,
Because the house of Bourbon now comes in, 50
And joins your lineage to the crown of France?

_Nav._ And that's the cause that Guise so frowns at us,
And beats his brains to catch us in his trap,
Which he hath pitched within his deadly toil.
Come, my lords, let's 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_ GUISE.[350]

_Guise._ If ever Hymen lour'd at marriage rites,
And had his altars decked with dusky lights;
If ever sun stained heaven with bloody clouds,
And made it look with terror on the world;
If ever day were turned to ugly night,
And night made semblance of the hue of hell;
This day, this hour, this fatal night,
Shall fully show the fury of them all.--
Apothecary!

_Enter_ Apothecary.

_Apoth._ My lord? 10

_Guise._ Now shall I prove, and guerdon to the full,
The love thou bear'st unto the house of Guise.
Where are those perfumed gloves which [late] I sent
To be poisoned? hast thou done them? speak;
Will every savour breed a pang of death?

_Apoth._ See where they be, my good lord; and he that smells
But to them, dies.

_Guise._ Then thou remainest resolute?

_Apoth._ I am, my lord, in what your grace commands,
Till death.

_Guise._ Thanks, my good friend: I will requite thy love.
Go, then, present them to the Queen Navarre; 20
For she is that huge blemish in our eye,
That makes these upstart heresies in France:
Be gone, my friend, present them to her straight.
[_Exit_ Apothecary.
Soldier!

_Enter a_ Soldier.

_Sold._ My lord?

_Guise._ Now come thou forth and play thy tragic part:
Stand in some window,[351] opening near the street,
And when thou see'st the Admiral ride by,
Discharge thy musket, and perform his death;
And then I'll guerdon thee with store of crowns. 30

_Sold._ I will, my lord. [_Exit._

_Guise._ Now, Guise, begin those deep-engendered thoughts
To burst abroad those never-dying flames
Which cannot be extinguished but by blood.
Oft have I levelled, and at last have learn'd
That peril is the cheapest way to happiness,
And resolution honour's fairest aim.
What glory is there in a common good,
That hangs for every peasant to achieve?
That like I best that flies beyond my reach. 40
Set me to scale the high Pyramides,
And thereon set the diadem of France;
I'll either rend it with my nails to naught,
Or mount the top with my aspiring wings,
Although my downfall be the deepest hell.
For this I wake, when others think I sleep;
For this I wait, that scorn attendance else;
For this, my quenchless thirst, whereon I build,
Hath often pleaded kindred to the king;
For this, this head, this heart, this hand, and sword, 50
Contrives, imagines, and fully executes,
Matters of import aimèd at by many,
Yet understood by none;
For this, hath heaven engendered me of earth;
For this, this earth sustains my body's weight,
And with this weight I'll counterpoise a crown,
Or with seditions weary all the world;
For this, from Spain the stately Catholics
Send Indian gold to coin me French ecues;[352]
For this, have I a largess from the Pope, 60
A pension, and a dispensation too;
And by that privilege to work upon,
My policy hath fram'd religion.
Religion! _O Diabole!_
Fie, I am asham'd, however that I seem,
To think a word of such a simple sound,
Of so great matter should be made the ground!
The gentle king, whose pleasure uncontroll'd
Weakeneth his body, and will waste his realm,
If I repair not what he ruinates,[353]-- 70
Him, as a child, I daily win with words,
So that for proof he barely bears the name;
I execute, and he sustains the blame.
The Mother-Queen works wonders for my sake,
And in my love entombs the hope of France,
Rifling the bowels of her treasury,
To supply my wants and necessity.
Paris hath full five hundred colleges,
As monasteries, priories, abbeys, and halls,
Wherein are thirty thousand able men, 80
Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholics:
And more,--of my knowledge, in one cloister keep[354]
Five hundred fat Franciscan friars and priests:
All this, and more, if more may be comprised,
To bring the will of our desires to end.
Then, Guise,
Since thou hast all the cards within thy hands,
To shuffle or cut, take this as surest thing,
That, right or wrong, thou deal thyself a king.--
I, but, Navarre,[355]--'tis but a nook of France, 90
Sufficient yet for such a petty king,
That, with a rabblement of his heretics,
Blinds Europe's eyes, and troubleth our estate.
Him will we--[_Pointing to his sword_] but first let's follow
those in France
That hinder our possession to the crown.
As Cæsar to his soldiers, so say I,--
Those that hate me will I learn to loathe.
Give me a look, that, when I bend the brows,
Pale death may walk in furrows of my face;
A hand, that with a grasp may gripe the world; 100
An ear to hear what my detractors say;
A royal seat, a sceptre, and a crown;
That those which do behold, they[356] may become
As men that stand and gaze against the sun.
The plot is laid, and things shall come to pass
Where resolution strives for victory.
[_Exit._

SCENE III.

_Enter the_ KING OF NAVARRE,[357] QUEEN MARGARET,
_the_ OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE, _the_ PRINCE OF CONDÉ,
_and the_ ADMIRAL; _they are met by the_ Apothecary
_with the gloves, which he gives to the_ OLD QUEEN.

_Apoth._ Madam,
I beseech your grace to accept this simple gift.

_Old Q. of Nav._ Thanks, my good friend. Hold, take
thou this reward. [_Gives a purse._

_Apoth._ I humbly thank your majesty. [_Exit._

_Old Q. of Nav._ Methinks the gloves have a very strong perfume,
The scent whereof doth make my head to ache.

_Nav._ Doth not your grace know the man that gave them you?

_Old Q. of Nav._ Not well; but do remember such a man.

_Adm._ Your grace was ill-advised to take them, then,
Considering of these dangerous times. 10

_Old Q. of Nav._ Help, son Navarre! I am poisoned!

_Mar._ The heavens forbid your highness such mishap!

_Nav._ The late suspicion of the Duke of Guise
Might well have moved your highness to beware
How you did meddle with such dangerous gifts.

_Mar._ Too late it is, my lord, if that be true,
To blame her highness; but I hope it be
Only some natural passion makes her sick.

_Old Q. of Nav._ O no, sweet Margaret! the fatal poison
Works within my head; my brain-pan breaks; 20
My heart doth faint; I die! [_Dies._

_Nav._ My mother poisoned here before my face!
O gracious God, what times are these!
O grant, sweet God, my days may end with hers,
That I with her may die and live again!

_Mar._ Let not this heavy chance, my dearest lord
(For whose effects my soul is massacrèd),
Infect thy gracious breast with fresh supply
To aggravate our sudden misery.

_Adm._ Come, my lords, let us bear her body hence, 30
And see it honoured with just solemnity.
[_As they are going out, the_ Soldier _dischargeth his
musket at the_ ADMIRAL.
_Con._ What, are you hurt, my Lord High Admiral?

_Adm._ I, my good lord, shot through the arm.

_Nav._ We[358] are betrayed! Come, my lords,
And let us go tell the king of this.

_Adm._ These are
The cursèd Guisians, that do seek our death.
O fatal was this marriage to us all!
[_Exeunt, bearing out the body of the_ OLD QUEEN OF NAVARRE.

SCENE IV.

_Enter_[359] KING CHARLES, CATHERINE _the Queen-Mother_,
GUISE, ANJOU, _and_ DUMAINE.

_Cath._ My noble son, and princely Duke of Guise,
Now have we got the fatal, straggling deer
Within the compass of a deadly toil,
And, as we late decreed, we may perform.

_Char._ Madam, it will be noted through the world
An action bloody and tyrannical;
Chiefly, since under safety of our word
They justly challenge their protection:
Besides, my heart relents that noblemen,
Only corrupted in religion, 10
Ladies of honour, knights, and gentlemen,
Should, for their conscience, taste such ruthless ends.

_Anj._ Though gentle minds should pity others' pain,
Yet will the wisest note their proper griefs,
And rather seek to scourge their enemies
Than be themselves base subjects to the whip.

_Guise._ Methinks my Lord Anjou hath well advised
Your highness to consider of the thing,
And rather choose to seek your country's good
Than pity or relieve these upstart heretics. 20

_Cath._ I hope these reasons may serve my princely son
To have some care for fear of enemies.

_Char._ Well, madam, I refer it to your majesty,
And to my nephew here, the Duke of Guise:
What you determine, I will ratify.

_Cat._ Thanks to my princely son.--Then tell me,Guise,
What order will you set down for the massacre?

_Guise._ Thus, madam. They
That shall be actors in this massacre,
Shall wear white crosses on their burgonets, 30
And tie white linen scarfs about their arms:
He that wants these, and is suspect[360] of heresy,
Shall die, be he king or emperor. Then I'll have
A peal of ordnance shot from the tower, at which
They all shall issue out, and set[361] the streets;
And then,
The watch-word being given, a bell shall ring,
Which when they hear, they shall begin to kill,
And never cease until that bell shall cease;
Then breathe a while. 40

_Enter the_ ADMIRAL'S Serving-Man.

_Char._ How now, fellow! what news?

_Serv.-M._ An it please your grace, the Lord High Admiral,
Riding the streets, was traitorously shot;
And most humbly[362] entreats your majesty
To visit him, sick in his bed.

_Char._ Messenger, tell him I will see him straight.
[_Exit_ Serv.-M.
What shall we do now with the Admiral?

_Cath._ Your majesty were best go visit him,
And make a show as if all were well.

_Char._ Content; I will go visit the Admiral. 50

_Guise._ And I will go take order for his death.
[_Exeunt_.[363]

SCENE V.

_The_[364] ADMIRAL _discovered in bed.
Enter_ KING CHARLES.

_Char._ How fares it with my Lord High Admiral?
Hath he been hurt with villain's in the street?
I vow and swear, as I am king of France,
To find and to repay the man with death,
With death delayed and torments never us'd,
That durst presume, for hope of any gain,
To hurt the nobleman their[365] sovereign loves.

_Adm._ Ah, my good lord, these are the Guisians,
That seek to massacre our guiltless lives!

_Char._ Assure yourself, my good Lord Admiral, 10
I deeply sorrow for your treacherous wrong;
And that I am not more secure myself
Than I am careful you should be preserv'd.--
Cousin, take twenty of our strongest guard,
And, under your direction, see they keep
All treacherous violence from our noble friend;
Repaying all attempts with present death
Upon the cursèd breakers of our peace.--
And so be patient, good Lord Admiral,
And every hour I will visit you. 20

_Adm._ I humbly thank your royal majesty.
[_Exit_ CHARLES. _The bed is drawn in._

SCENE VI.

_Enter_[366] GUISE, ANJOU, DUMAINE, GONZAGO, RETES,
MOUNTSORRELL, _and_ Soldiers, _to the massacre_.

_Guise._ Anjou, Dumaine, Gonzago, Retes, swear,
By the argent crosses in your burgonets,
To kill all that you suspect of heresy.

_Dum._ I swear by this, to be unmerciful.

_Anj._ I am disguis'd, and none knows who I am,
And therefore mean to murder all I meet.

_Gon._ And so will I.

_Retes._ And I.

_Guise._ Away, then! break into the Admiral's house.

_Retes._ I, let the Admiral be first despatch'd.

_Guise._ The Admiral, 10
Chief standard-bearer to the Lutherans,
Shall in the entrance[367] of this massacre
Be murder'd in his bed.
Gonzago, conduct them thither; and then
Beset his house, that not a man may live.

_Anj._ That charge is mine.--Switzers, keep you the streets;
And at each corner shall the king's guard stand.

_Gon._ Come, sirs, follow me.
[_Exit_ GONZAGO _with others_.
_Anj._ Cousin, the captain of the Admiral's guard,
Plac'd by my brother, will betray his lord. 20
Now, Guise, shall Catholics flourish once again;
The head being off, the members cannot stand.

_Retes._ But look, my lord, there's some in the Admiral's house.

GONZAGO _and others enter the_ ADMIRAL'S
_house; the_ ADMIRAL _discovered in bed_.

_Anj._ In lucky time: come, let us keep this lane,
And slay his servants that shall issue out.

_Gon._ Where is the Admiral?

_Adm._ O let me pray before I die!

_Gon._ Then pray unto our Lady; kiss this cross. [_Stabs him._

_Adm._ O God, forgive my sins! [_Dies._

_Guise._ Gonzago, what, is he dead?

_Gon._ I, my lord. 30

_Guise._ Then throw him down.[368]
[_The body of the_ ADMIRAL _is thrown down._
_Anj._ Now, cousin, view him well:
It maybe 'tis some other, and he escap'd.

_Guise._ Cousin, 'tis he; I know him by his look:
See where my soldier shot him through the arm;
He miss'd him near, but we have struck him now.--
Ah, base Chatillon and degenerate,
Chief Standard-bearer to the Lutherans,
Thus, in despite of thy religion,
The Duke of Guise stamps on thy lifeless bulk!

_Anj._ Away with him! cut off his head and hands, 40
And send them for a present to the Pope;[369]
And, when this just revenge is finishèd,
Unto Mount Falcon[370] will we drag his corse;

And he, that living hated so the Cross,
Shall, being dead, be hanged thereon in chains.

_Guise._ Anjou, Gonzago, Retes, if that you three
Will be as resolute as I and Dumaine,
There shall not a Huguenot breathe in France.

_Anj._ I swear by this cross, we'll not be partial,
But slay as many as we can come near. 50

_Guise._ Mountsorrell, go shoot the ordnance off,
That they, which have already set the street,
May know their watchword; then toll the bell,
And so let's forward to the massacre.

_Mount._ I will, my lord. [_Exit._

_Guise._ And now, my lords, let's closely to our business.

_Anj._ Anjou will follow thee.

_Dum._ And so will Dumaine.
[_The ordnance being shot off, the bell tolls_.
_Guise._ Come, then, let's away.
[_Exeunt_.

SCENE VII.

_Enter_[371] GUISE _and the rest with their swords drawn,
chasing the Protestants._

_Guise._ _Tuez, tuez, tuez!_
Let none escape! murder the Huguenots!

_Anj._ Kill them! kill them! [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ LOREINE _running_; GUISE _and the rest
pursuing him._