Massacre at Paris Part 6

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 G.o.d 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: G.o.d 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 Emba.s.sadours 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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.