HENRY

Madam, it will be noted through the world, And Actium bloody and Tyrannical: Chiefly since under safety of our word, They justly challenge their protection: Beside my heart relentes that noble men, Only corrupted in religion, Ladies of honour, Knights and Gentlemen, should for their con science taste such ruthless ends. Well Madam, I refer it to your Majesty, And to my Nephew here the Duke of Guise: What you determine, I will ratify. How now fellow, what news? Messenger, tell him I will see him strait. What shall we do now with the Admiral? Content, I will go visit the Admiral. How fares it with my Lord high Admiral, Hath he been hurt with villains 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 used, That durst presume for hope of any gain, To hurt the noble man their sovereign loves. Assure your self my good Lord Admiral, I deeply sorrow for your treacherous wrong: And that I am not more secure my self, Then I am careful you should be preserved. Cofin, 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 cursed breakers of our peace. And so be patient good Lord Admiral, And every hour I will visit you. Oh let me stay and rest me her a while, A gripping pain hath ceased upon my heart: A sudden pang, the messenger of death. I must say so, pain forceth me complain. Oh no, my loving brother of Navarre. I have deserved a scourge I must confess, Yet is there patience of another sort, Then to misdoe the welfare of their King: God grant my nearest Friends may prove no worse. Oh hold me up, my sighed begins to fail, My sinews shrink, my brains turn upside down, My heart does break, I faint and die. My sweet Joyeux, I make thee General, Of all my army now in readiness: To march against the rebellious King Navarre. At thy request I am content thou go, Although my love to thee can hardly suffer, Regarding still the danger of thy life. So kindly Cousin of Guise you and your wife do both salute our lovely Minions. Remember you the letter gentle sir, which your wife writ to my deer Minion, and her chosen friend? Believe me this jest bites soar. How now Mugeron, metst thou not the Guise at the door? Marry if thou hadst, thou mightest have had the stab, For he hath solemnly sworn thy death. Because his wife bears thee such kindly love. I Like not this, come Epernoune lets go seek the Duke and make them Friends. 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. Be patient Guise and threat not Epernoune, Least thou perceive the King of France be moved. I, those are they that feed him with their gold, To counter maund our will and check our Friends. Guise, wear our crown, and be thou King of France, And as Dictator make or war or peace, Whilst I cry placet Like a Senator, I cannot brook thy haughty insolence, Dismiss thy camp or else by our Edict, Be thou proclaimde a traitor throughout France. Then farewell Guise, the King and thou are Friends. Did they of Paris entertain him so? Then means he present treason to our state. Well, let me alone, whose within there? Make a discharge of all my counsel strait, And I'll subscribe my name and seal it straight. My head shall be my counsel, they are false: And Epernoune I will be ruled by thee. First let us set our hand and seal to this, And then I'll tell thee what I mean to do. So, convey this to the counsel presently. And Epernoune though I seem mild and calm, Think not but I am tragical within: I'll secretly convey me unto Bloyse, For now that Paris takes the Guises part, Here is no staying for the King of France, Unless he mean to be betrayed and die: But as I hue, so sure the Guise shall die. Now Captain of my Guard, are these murthe rers ready? But are they resolute and armed to kill, Hating the life and honour of the Guise? Then come proud Guise and here disgordge thy breast, Surcharge with surfeit of ambitious thoughts: Breath out that life wherein my death was hid, And end thy endless treasons with thy death. Let him come in. Come Guise and see thy traitorous guile outreacht, And perish in the pit thou madest for me. Good morrow to my loving Cousin of Guise. How fares it this morning with your excel lence? They were to blame that said I was displeased, And you good Cousin to imagine it. It hard with me if I should doubt my kin, Or be suspicious of my dearest Friends: Cousin, assure you I am resolute, Whatsoever any whisper in mine ears, Not to suspect disloyalty in thee, And so sweet Cuz farewell. Ah this sweet sighed is physic to my soul, Go fetch his son for to behold his death: Surcharge with gilded of thousand massacres: Mounser of Lorraine sink away to hell, And in remembrance of those bloody broils: To which thou didstalure me being alive: And here in presence of you all I swear, I never was King of France until this hour: This is the traitor that hath spent my gold, In making foreign wars and civil broils. Did he not drawa sort of English priests, From Doway to the Seminary at Remes, To hatch forth treason gainst their natural Queen? Did he not cause the King of Spain's huge fleet, To threaten England and to menace me? Did he not injure Mounser thats deceased? Hath he not made me in the Popes defence, To spend the treasure that should strength my land: In civil broils between Navarre and me? Tush, to be short, he meant to make me Monk, Or else to murder me, and so be King. Let Christian princes that shall hear of this, (As all the world shall know our Guise is dead) Rest satisfied with this that her I swear, Near was there King of France so yoked as I. Boy, look where your father lies, Sirrah it I that slew him, and will slay thee too, and thou prove such a traitor. A way to prison with him, I'll clip his wings or ere he pass my hands, away with him. But what avails that this traitors dead, When Duke Dumaine his brother is alive, And that young Cardinal that is grown so proud? Go to the Governor of Orleans, And will him in my name to kill the Duke. Get you a way and strangle the Cardinal, These two will make one entire Duke of Guise, Especially with our old mother's help. And let her drop, my heart is light enough. Mother, how Like you this device of mine? I slew the Guise, because I would be King. Nay he was King and countermanded me, But now I will be King and rule my self, And make the Guisians stoup that are alive. Cry out, exclaim, houle till thy throat be hoarse, The Guise is slain, and I rejoice therefore: And now will I to arms, come Epernoune: And let her grieve her heart out if she will. Brother of Navarre, I sorrow much, That ever I was proved your enemy, And that the sweet and princely mind you bear, Was ever troubled with injurious wars: I vow as I am lawful King of France, To recompense your reconciled love, With all the honours and affections, That ever I vouchsafte my dearest Friends. Thanks to my Kingly Brother of Navarre. Then here wee'llye before Lucrecia walls, Girting this strumpet City with our siege, Till surfeiting with our afflicting arms, She cast her hateful stomach to the earth. Let him come in. Sweet Epernoune, our Friars are holy men, And will not offer violence to their King, For all the wealth and treasure of the world, Friar, thou dost acknowledge me thy King: Then come thou near, and tell what news thou bringest. I'll read them Friar, and then I'll answer thee. No, let the villain die, and feel in hell, joust torments for his treachery. Yes Navarre, but not to death I hope. What irreligious Pagans parts be these, Of such as hold them of the holy church? Take hence that damned villain from my sighed. Sweet Epernoune all Rebels under heaven, shall take example by their punishment, how they bear arms against their sovereign. Go call the English Agent hither strait, I'll send my sister England news of this, And give her warning of her treacherous foes. The wound I warrant you is deep my Lord, Search Surgeon and resolve me what thou seest. Agent for England, send thy mistress word, What this detested Jacobin hath done. Tell her for all this that I hope to live, Which if I do, the Papal Monarck goes to wrack. And antechristian kingdom falls. These bloody hands shall tear his triple Crown, And fire accursed Room about his ears. He fire his crazed buildings and incense, The papal to wers to kiss the holy earth. Navarre, give me thy hand, I here do swear, To ruinate that wicked Church of Room, That hatcheth up such bloody practises. And here protest eternal love to thee, And to the Queen of England specially, Whom God hath blessed for hating Papestry. Tell me Surgeon, shall I live? A poisoned knife, what shall the French king die e, Wounded and poisoned, both at once? Ah curse him not sith he is dead, Oh the fa tall poison works within my breast, tell me Surgeon and flatter not, may I live? O no Navarre, thou must be King of France. Sweet Epernoune thy King must die. My Lords, fight in the quarrel of this valiant Prince, For he is your lawful King and my next heir: Valoyses line ends in my tragedy. Now let the house of Bourbon wear the crown, And may it never end in blood 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 tears, And bids thee whet thy sword on Sextus bones, That it may keenly slice the Catholics. He loves me not that sheds most tears, But he that makes most lavish of his blood. Fire Paris where these treacherous rebels lurk, Idye Navarre, come bear me to my Sepulchre. Salute the Queen of England in my name, And tell her Henry die her faithful friend. Though gentle minds should pity others pains, Yet will the wisest note their proper griefs: And rather seek to scourge their enemies, Then be themselves base subjects to the whip. I am disguised and none knows who I am. And therefore mean to murder all I meet. That charge is mine, Swizers keep you the streets, And at each corner shall the Kings guard stand. Cousin, the Captain of the Admirals Guard, Placed by my brother, will betray his Lord: Now Guise shall catholics flourish once again, The head being of, the members cannot stand. In lucky time, come let us keep this lane, And slay his servants that shall issue out. Now cousin view him well, it may be it is some other, and he escapte. A way with him, cut of his head and hands. And send them for a present to the Pope: And when this joust revenge is finished, Unto mount Falcon will we drag his coarse: And he that living hated so the cross, Shall being dead, be hanged thereon in chains. I swear by this cross, we'll not be partial, But slay as many as we can come near. Anioy will follow thee. Kill them, kill them. Stay my Lord, let me begin the psalm. Who have you there? Well, say on. Near was there Colliars son so full of pride. For that let me alone, Cousin stay you her, And when you see me in, then follow hard. How now my Lords, how fare you? My Lords of Poland I must needs confess, The offer of your Prince Electors, far Beyond the reach of my deserts: For Poland is as I have been enformde, A martial people, worthy such a King, As hath sufficient counsel in himself, To lighten doubts and frustrate subtle foes. And such a King whom practice long hath taught, To please himself with manage of the wars. The greatest wars within our Christian bounds, I mean our wars against the Muscovites: And on the other side against the Turk, Rich Princes both, and mighty Emperors: Yet by my brother Charles our King of France, And by his graces council it is thought, that if I undertake to wear the crown Of Poland, it may prejudice their hope Of my inheritance to the crown of France: For if th'almighty take my brother hence, By endue dissent the Regal seat is mine. With Poland therefore 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 maintain the wealth and safety of your kingdoms right. Then come my Lords, lets go. Thanks to you all. The guider of all crowns, Grant that our deeds may well deserve your loves: And so they shall, if fortune speed my will, And yield your thoughts to height of my deserts. What says our Minions, think they Henries heart Will not both harbour love and Majesty? Put of that fear, they are already joined, No person, place, or time, or circumstance, Shall slack my loves affection from his bent, As now you are, so shall you still persist, Remooueles from the favours of your King. I tell thee Mugeron we will be Friends, And fellows to, what ever storms arise. How meanest thou that? Hands of good sellow, I will be his bail For this offence: go sirrah, work no more, Till this our Coronation day be passed: And now our solemn rites of Coronation done, What now remains, but for a while to feast, And spend some days in barriers, tourny, tylte, and Like disports, such as do fit the Court? Lets go my Lords, our dinner stays for us. I, so they are, but yet what remedy: I have done what I could to stay this broil. Who I, you are deceived, I rose but now. A way with them both.