Massacre at Paris | Page 7

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