Massacre at Paris(巴黎大屠杀)

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Massacre at Paris

by Christopher Marlowe

Massacre at Paris

[DRAMATIS PERSONAE]

CHARLES THE NINTH--King of France Duke of Anjou--his brother,

afterwards KNIG HENRY THE THIRD King of Navarre PRINCE OF

CONDE--his brother

brothers DUKE OF GUISE CARDINAL OF LORRAINE DUKE

DUMAINE

SON TO THE DUKE OF GUISE--a boy THE LORD HIGH

ADMIRAL DUKE OF JOYEUX EPERNOUN PLESHE BARTUS TWO

LORDS OF POLAND GONZAGO RETES MOUNTSORRELL

COSSINS,--Captain of the King's Guard MUGEROUN THE CUTPURSE

LOREINE,--a preacher SEROUNE RAMUS TALEUS FRIAR

SURGEONENGLISH AGENT APOTHECARY 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

Massacre at Paris

[Scene I]

Enter Charles the French King, [Catherine] the Queene Mother,

the King of Navarre, the Prince of Condye, the Lord high Admirall, and

[Margaret] the Queene of Navarre, with others.

CHARLES. Prince of Navarre my honourable brother, Prince Condy,

and my good Lord Admirall, wishe this union and religious league, Knit in

these hands, thus joyn'd in nuptiall rites, May not desolve, till death

desolve our lives, And that the native sparkes of princely love, That

kindled first this motion in our hearts, May still be feweld in our progenye.

NAVAREE. The many favours which your grace has showne, From

time to time, but specially in this, Shall binde me ever to your highnes will,

In what Queen Mother or your grace commands.

QUEENE MOTHER. Thanks sonne Navarre, you see we love you

well, That linke you in mariage with our daughter heer: And as you know,

our difference in Religion Might be a meanes to crosse you in your love.

CHARLES. Well Madam, let that rest: And now my Lords the mariage

rites perfourm'd, We think 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

Massacre at Paris

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.

Massacre at Paris

[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.

Massacre at Paris

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 stately Catholic Sends

Indian golde to coyne me French ecues: For this have I a largesse from the

Pope, A pension and a dispensation too: And by that priviledge to worke

upon, My policye hath framde religion. Religion: O Diabole. Fye, I am

ashamde, how ever that I seeme, To think a word of such a simple sound,

Of so great matter should be made the ground. The gentle King whose

pleasure uncontrolde, Weakneth his body, and will waste his Realme, If I

repaire not what he ruinates: Him as a childe I dayly winne with words, So

that for proofe, he barely beares the name: I execute, and he sustaines the

blame. The Mother Queene workes wonders for my sake, And in my love

entombes the hope of Fraunce: Rifling the bowels of her treasurie, To

supply my wants and necessitie. Paris hath full five hundred Colledges, As

Monestaries, Priories, Abbyes and halles, Wherein are thirtie thousand

able men, Besides a thousand sturdy student Catholicks, And more: of my

knowledge in one cloyster keep, Five hundred fatte Franciscan Fryers and

priestes. All this and more, if more may be comprisde, To bring the will of

our desires to end. Then Guise, Since thou hast all the Cardes within thy

Massacre at Paris

hands To shuffle or to cut, take this as surest thing: That right or wrong,

thou deal'st thy selfe a King. I but, Navarre. Tis but a nook of France.

Sufficient yet for such a pettie King: That with a rablement of his hereticks,

Blindes Europs eyes and troubleth our estate: Him will we--

Pointing to his Sworde.

But first lets follow those in France. That hinder our possession to the

crowne: As Caesar to his souldiers, so say I: Those that hate me, will I

learn to loath. Give me a look, that when I bend the browes, Pale death

may walke in furrowes of my face: A hand, that with a graspe may gripe

the world, An eare, to heare what my detractors say, A royall seate, a

scepter and a crowne: That those which doe behold them may become As

men that stand and gase against the Sunne. The plot is laide, and things

shall come to passe, Where resolution strives for victory.

Exit.

Massacre at Paris

[Scene III]

Enter the King of Navar and Queen [Margaret], and his [olde] Mother

Queen [of Navarre], the Prince of Condy, the Admirall, and the Pothecary

with the gloves, and gives them to the olde Queene.

POTHECARIE. Maddame, I beseech your grace to except this simple

gift.

OLD QUEENE. Thanks my good freend, holde, take thou this reward.

POTHECARIE. I humbly thank your Majestie.

Exit Pothecary.

OLD QUEENE. Me thinkes the gloves have a very strong perfume,

The sent whereof doth make my head to ake.

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

OLD QUEENE. Not wel, but do remember such a man.

ADMIRALL. Your grace was ill advisde to take them then,

Considering of these dangerous times.

OLD QUEENE. Help sonne Navarre, I am poysoned.

QUEENE MARGARET. The heavens forbid your highnes such

mishap.

NAVARRE. The late suspition of the Duke of Guise, Might well have

moved your highnes to beware How you did meddle with such dangerous

giftes.

QUEENE MARGARET. Too late it is my Lord if that be true To

blame her highnes, but I hope it be Only some naturall passion makes her

sicke.

OLD QUEENE. O no, sweet Margaret, the fatall poyson Doth work

within my heart, my brain pan breakes, My heart doth faint, I dye.

She dyes.

NAVARRE. My Mother poysoned heere before my face: O gracious

God, what times are these? O graunt sweet God my daies may end with

hers, That I with her may dye and live againe.

Massacre at Paris

QUEENE MARGARET. Let not this heavy chaunce my dearest Lord,

(For whose effects my soule is massacred) Infect thy gracious brest with

fresh supply, To agravate our sodaine miserie.

ADMIRALL. Come my Lords let us beare her body hence, And see it

honoured with just solemnitie.

As they are going, [enter] the Souldier [above, who] dischargeth his

musket at the Lord Admirall [and exit].

CONDY. What are you hurt my Lord high Admiral?

ADMIRALL. I my good Lord, shot through the arme.

NAVARRE. We are betraide, come my Lords, and let us goe tell the

King of this.

ADMIRALL. These are the cursed Guisians that doe seeke our death.

Oh fatall was this mariage to us all.

They beare away the [olde] Queene [of Navarre] and goe out.

Massacre at Paris

[Scene IV]

Enter [Charles] the King, [Catherinethe] Queene Mother, Duke of

Guise, Duke Anjoy, Duke Demayne [and Cossin, Captain of the Kings

Guard].

QUEENE MOTHER. My noble sonne, and princely Duke of Guise,

Now have we got the fatall stragling deere, Within the compasse of a

deadly toyle, And as we late decreed we may perfourme.

CHARLES. Madam, it wilbe noted through the world, An action

bloudy and tirannicall: Cheefely since under safetie of our word, They

justly challenge their protection: Besides my heart relentes that noble men,

Onely corrupted in religion, Ladies of honor, Knightes and Gentlemen,

Should for their conscience taste such rutheles ends.

ANJOY. Though gentle minces should pittie others paines, Yet will the

wisest note their proper greefes: And rather seeke to scourge their enemies,

Then be themselves base subjects to the whip.

GUISE. Me thinkes my Lord, Anjoy hath well advisde Your highnes to

consider of the thing, And rather chuse to seek your countries good, Then

pittie or releeve these upstart hereticks.

QUEENE MOTHER. I hope these reasons mayserve my princely,

Sonne, To have some care for feare of enemies.

CHARLES. Well Madam, I referre it to your Majestie, And to my

Nephew heere the Duke of Guise: What you determine, I will ratifie.

QUEENE MOTHER. Thankes to my princely sonne, then tell me

Guise, What order wil you set downe for the Massacre?

GUISE. Thus Madame. They that shalbe actors in this Massacre, Shall

weare white crosses on their Burgonets, And tye white linnen scarfes

about their armes. He that wantes these, and is suspect of heresie, Shall

dye, or be he King or Emperour. Then Ile have a peale of ordinance shot

from the tower, At which they all shall issue out and set the streetes. And

then the watchword being given, a bell shall ring, Which when they heare,

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MassacreatParis1MassacreatParisbyChristopherMarloweMassacreatParis2[DRAMATISPERSONAE]CHARLESTHENINTH--KingofFranceDukeofAnjou--hisbrother,afterwardsKNIGHENRYTHETHIRDKingofNavarrePRINCEOFCONDE--hisbrotherbrothersDUKEOFGUISECARDINALOFLORRAINEDUKEDUMAINESONTOTHEDUKEOFGUISE--aboyTHELORDHIGHADMIRALDUKEOF...

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Massacre at Paris(巴黎大屠杀)

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