Massacre at Paris | Page 4

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