University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

The King rises from a Couch.
From Amber shrouds I see the morning rise
Her Rosy hand begins to paint the Skies;
And now the City Emets leave their Hive,
And rouzing Hinds to chearful labour drive;
High Cliffs, and Rocks are pleasing objects now,
And Nature smiles upon the Mountains brow;
The Joyful Birds salute the Sun's approach;
The Sun too laughs, and mounts his gaudy Coach,
While from his Car the dropping Gems distil,
And all the Earth, and all the Heaven does smile:
But Charles, still wrapt in Shades, like Night appears,
His sighs the Vapors, and the Dews his Tears.
Yet, O Just Power, with pity, O behold.
The wretch, whose fault is in your Book inroll'd:
Behold these streams, with which his Soul aspires
To slake your wrath, and quench your angry fires.

Enter Genius.
Gen.
Thy Genius, lo, from his sweet Bed of rest,
Adorn'd with Jassamin, and with Roses drest,
The Pow'r Divine has rais'd to stop thy Fate;
A true Repentance never comes too late:
So soon as born, she made her self a Shroud,
The weeping Mantle of a Fleecy Cloud,
And swift as thought, her Airy Journy took,
Her hand Heav'ns Azure Gate with trembling strook;
The Stars did with amazement on her look;
She told thy Story in so sad a Tone,
The Angels start from Bliss, and gave a groan.
But Charles beware, oh dally not with Heav'n,
For after this no Pardon shall be giv'n.

[Exit.
Enter the Queen Mother, Cardinal of Lorrain, Anjou, Alberto Gondi.
Car.
The King upon the Earth? O rise, my Lord.

Q. M.
He has of late been troubled with such Faintings;
And see he bleeds at Mouth.

King.
Stand from me all.
O, Mother, Mother! Whither will you lead me?
Through what a Vault of Monuments, and Sculls,
And dead Men's Bones? And you, my Lord Lorrain,
Must I still journey through this Vale of Death,
And never reach the Paradise you promis'd?
I must not let the Massacre go forward:
I'm warn'd from Heav'n, I swear I think from
Heav'n.

Q. M.
Some Scar-crow of a Dream? So far from Sin,
Or ought that's damnable, is our Design;
That my Lord Cardinal will tell you, Sir,
'Tis meritorious: and when e're we strike,
The Church shall bless it, as a blow from Heav'n.

Car.
Therefore, my Lord, I wish you to suspect
Whatever thwarts you in your holy purpose;
However veil'd, tho' in an Angel's form,
Conclude it the suggestion of the Devil.

Q. M.
So; now, I hope, these Qualms are at an end,
And we may close pursue the main intention.
Supposed the Admiral kill'd: on this, the Hugonots
Fall on the House of Guise; the City rises
And cuts 'em all to pieces: now imagine
Which I am apt to think the Hereticks
Are more discreet, and only sue for Justice,
Without a Tumult; shall the business stand?

Car.
No. If we find they do not run to Uproar,
(Our only hope to colour o're their ruine)
Proceed to instant Slaughter; or they'l find
Some means for flight, and kindle up the War
More dreadfully than ever.

Anj.
Is't determin'd
That, with the rest, the Princes too shall bleed,

Q. M.
My Judgment is most positive in this:
Let not one Soul of all be left alive;
For 'tis ridiculous, in such Extreams,
Ith'mid'st of Slaughter, Ruine, Blood, and Death,
To think of ever being prais'd for Mercy.
Nor can a mean be us'd; the Duke of Guise
Meddles not in it, if a man escape:
And says, in such a desperate Purge of Humours,
If any Relick of the great Distemper
Be left behind, it runs to a Relapse
More dangerous than before.

King.
As I remember,
Madam, it has been oft your Oracle,
In this late Civil Wars, to avoid a Battel,
That limbs, tho' ne're so foul, should not be lopt
Without the utmost, last Necessity;
Because the Body feels too great defect,
Sharp Pains, and almost irrecoverable Weakness:
And will you now cut the great Arteries,
The Princes of the Blood? Most horrid thought!

Q. M.
Compose your self; Navarre and Conde live.
Come, come, you must put off this Melancholy;
'Twill breed Suspicion, Sir, let me intreat you
To go upon the Instant streight to Tennis,
While Morvele does his business.

King.
O my heart!
If you would have me fixt, you must not leave me,
You must talk out to my distracted Soul,
Lest Conscience drown the Voice of Policy.

[Exeunt all but Car.
Car.
This 'tis to have a Conscience?—Here comes one
Enter Guise.
Sear'd as my self, of my own Family.
Is he dispatch'd!

Gui.
Not yet; but Morvele waits him,
His Fuzee cock'd, and planted at the Window:
All, all is fitted.

Car.
What, your Marguerite,
Said she was sick, and would not bed the Prince
Last night?

Gui.
I know not that; but here I stay
To take her as she passes to the Gardens.
How fares the King?

Car.
A little bound in Conscience:
He pukes at Dreams; and as I hear of late,
Spits Blood.

Gui.
A Fit, a fit, my Lord, o'th'Mother:
I told you so. But see: the furious Princess?
Away: I'le clap my Prow upon the Storm;
And, if a Wrack must follow, let it come.

Enter Marguerite.
Mar.
Ha! Villain? Traytor? Devil? Hence, be gone;
Or I must get into my Grave to hide me:
I've sworn, I've sworn to fly thee like a Fury,
And I am Damn'd if e're I see thee more.

Gui.
I will obey you. And indeed the Fates
Of these sad Souls that must to day be dol'd
Require my haste: I beg you but to hear me:
Grant me but this, By Hell, and Hell's worst Horrors,
And all the Murders of this bloody day;
You ne're shall see me more.

Mar.
What can'st thou say?
For see, I know not how, thou'st charm'd my rage.

Gui.
Know then, the lives of every Hugonot
This moment now are sentenc'd to the Grave:
A Massacre of all.

Mar.
A Massacre!

Gui.
Madam, I've done. But hark! a Gun went off!
My leaping heart cries out, It is the Admiral.
The Marriage of Navarre was for this end
Design'd, to bring the Princes to the Court:
And, on so great an Enterprise, the King
Compell'd me to the tearing of the Contract,
Or threatned the destruction of my House,
And which was worse, your death before my eyes.
What, hoa! Morvele! He pass'd the Anti-chamber.
Enter Morvele.
Permit me to consult him. Ha! speak out;
Say, is the Admiral—

Morv.
Not dead, my Lord.
I think I saw some of his Fingers fly,
And part of his left Arm: I'm sure I hit him.

Gui.
Here, take this Key; fly to my Closet, haste;
Thou art pursu'd: Farewell.

Mor.
I'm gone, my Lord.

[Exit.
Gui.
'Twas in this manner just, my noble Father
Was palted from the Fame of all the World
By such another Villain: and my Soul
Leaps with Revenge, that this proud Admiral
Should, like an Eagle, in his utmost flight
Be topled from the Clouds of all his Glory.
Madam, farewel: I hope you will excuse
What I, enforc'd, did act: I love you still;
And, on this sad affair, in which perhaps
Your Guise may perish, it would warm my heart
To hear you do not hate me.

Marg.
Death and Horrour!
Infamy, Vengeance, Murder, Massacre!

Gui.
Now by the life and heart of our design
'Tis well dissembled; stood thy Lord in view,
I thus wou'd charge thee; bear thee in my arms,
From the proud hurry of a clashing World:
To Mahomet's Paradise, to Beds of Pleasure,
Where we shall spin the silken Joys for ever,
Without a break: lengthening the twinkling moment
To an Eternity of deathless Pleasure.

Marg.
Touch me not for thy life, thou Traytor! Murderer!
Ravisher! Oh thou titled Villany!
In Purple dipt to give a gloss to mischief!
Follow the bloody bark of thy Ambition,
And never see me more—

Gui.
It cannot be,
Unless you chain me, drag me in Sunless Caves:
You are my Earthly goodness, all my hope
Of Comfort here: nor wish I more hereafter.

Marg.
Hold, hold, Prophaner, thou hast dishonour'd me,
But this is little to the Crimes that follow,
Thou hast betray'd me, after all my Vows,
To marry one I hate; for thy Ambition
Mak'st me the Cause of this most horrid Vengeance.
At which the Earth shall sicken, Saints be sad,
And none but Furies like your self—

Gui.
Did not your Mother form the whole design?

Marg.
Whoever form'd or helpt in such contriving,
Hell and Damnation waste 'em; but for thee,
Sear'd as thou art, with Cruelty, Revenge,
I pity thee, O Guise! because I lov'd thee,
And beg thee view those Fiends that gape to seize thee:
Allow at least a possibility;
An unknown Country, after you are dead,
As well as there was one e're you were born.

Gui.
Admit me then once more to share your Breast,
To taste those Secrets from those lovely Lips,
And I in time may be a Proselyte.

Marg.
Here look your last! for from the time I leave you
Ne're hope to see lost Marguerite more.

Gui.
I am a Rebel, and have sworn to see you:
By all our former Dearness, and I will
By Heav'n: I will, in spite of your resolve,
I'le gaze upon you till these Crystals run.

Marg.
You have broke my heart a thousand several ways,
And now against my will this parting melts me.

Gui.
Speak not of parting: by those Eyes I beg,
Nor melting hearts: The blood runs down from mine.

Marg.
For all the wrongs you have done me, my Dishonor
For all your delays, your slights, your thousand Oaths,
Your most considerate Pride in falling out,
That I might court you to be Friends again.

Gui.
Stop yet: and Oh eternal Love shall crown thee.

Marg.
For all my Midnight groans.

Gui.
Hold, Marguerite.

Marg.
My Tears, my Watchings,
The bleeding tokens of the fondest Love.

Gui.
Take this, and strike it to my heart;
[Offers a Dagger.
But speak your griefs no more.

Marg.
By all I've said,
I beg you, Sir, to spare my Husband's life.

Gui.
What, Marguerite? ha! Navarre agen?
This was too much.

Marg.
Save him, if possible,
And so farewel, thou Ruine of my Glory:
Farewel, thou strong Seducer of my Youth;
Yet I will Eye thee hungerly at last:
Nay, take this sigh too that thus splits my heart,
My Husband's life. In all that I implore,
To save Navarre, and never see me more.
[Exit Marg.

Gui.
She's gone, for ever gone: why, let her go.
Henceforth pronounce all Woman-kind thy Foe;
Or if thy feeble Soul to Love return,
Do not, like Anthony, for life time burn:
But as a Lion, eager of his prey,
Compell'd by thirst, turns from his purpos'd way;
And in some silver Fountain slacks his rage,
Then runs more fiercely on his Foes t'ingage;
So having quench'd thy fires with Beauties Charms,
Forget the Pleasures, and rush to Arms.

[Exit.
Enter King, Q. Mother, Anjou, Lorrain, Alb. Gondi.
King.
Command that all the City-Gates be shut,
Except but two, for bringing in Provisions;
And these my Lord of Rhetz, see strictly Guarded,
Lest that the Murderer escape.

Q. M.
You bear it bravely!
Now to the wounded Admiral: be there
As you are now, seem soft and pitiful,
Fond him with tears, cry out with your impatience
To be reveng'd upon the Murderer.

King.
You that are made of Artince instruct me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Admiral Dressing, with all the Hugonots about him
Adm.
A finger and an arm? what all this noise
About the shattering of a Limb? Away.
And in a Cause so great, so glorious too?
Nay, let 'em burn the other to the shoulder,
Or let that Badger Queen grind every Bone
Betwixt her teeth, and grin to hear 'em crack.

Cav.
Let's instantly resolve to bear him forth.

Adm.
No: with this mangled flesh held to Heav'n,
This horrid mash of Blood, and Bone, and Marrow,
Upon my knees I beg the Power Divine
T'establish thus the Protestant Religion,
To plant it in the Blood of lost Coligni,
If that, Alas, may satisfy their Fury.

Cav.
Take heart, Sir; hope one day for full Revenge.

Enter Antramont.
Ant.
'Tis well, my Lord! 'tis well, my Cato! well!
You call'd this Paris Utica at first:
The Stars of Great men have a cast Divine,
And when they mould with second thought, the Spirit,
The Air, the Life, the Golden Vapour's gone.
Langoiran! O Langoiran!

Adm.
Fate, my Martia;
There is a Providence that over-rules:
Therefore submit; haste, for thy life, away;
I beg thee fly, my Martia, to Geneva:
My little ones shall, with Teligny, follow.

Ant.
What, Sir, is't possible!
Is a planck in this great Vessel rived?
Is't necessary that a Wreck should follow?

Adm.
O, Antramont, there is no going forth;
If the King be not in th'Assassination,
Fear not; I shall have Justice: If he be,
Farewel for ever, I'll ne're see thee more.

Ant.
You shall, you shall: why burst you not away?
There are at least ten thousand, your Adherents,
Will clear your passage to Chasrillon:
Why do you drag then, when your Fate cryes on?

Adm.
Once more I say, my Fate is in the King;
Therefore away: If things go right, you come
To me again; if not, there's one preserv'd
T'embalm my Bowels. O my Antramont,
I mean my Babes, that thus have force to thaw me.
That Power, whose most unsearchable Decree
Thus dooms our parting, give thee strength to bear it;
To bear my Death; perhaps thou'lt hear it shortly:
Yet thou shalt hear nothing unworthy me,
Nothing that's faint and flagging at the Goal,
But my last Gasp like my first start of Glory.

Ant.
What, leave thee, Gaspar, e're I kiss thy wound?
O, let we touch the Batt'ry of his Arm!
Forgive me; thus far I will be a Roman:
There's Virtue here, in this most Sacred Relict,
I swear I think there is, to save a Soul.

Adm.
Be gone, I say; I cannot bear thy Kindness:
Force her away, and bear her to St. Germain.

Ant.
I go. For thee, this Prayer I leave behind me:
When-e're thou dy'st, the Arms of Angels wast thee
To those smooth Joys that have no gritty moments.
For her that brought thee to this barbarous end,
The Whips of Conscience drive her to Despair;
Conscience! Sh' has none: why then the stings of Pleasure,
Sores and Diseases, Disappointments plague her;
May all her Life be one continu'd Torment,
And that more Racking than a Mother's labour:
In meeting Death, may her least trouble be
As great, as now my parting is with thee.

[Exit.
Enter Alberto Gondi.
Alb.
My Lord, his Majesty, the Queen, his Mother,
Approach, to mourn your Chance, and give you Justice.

Enter King, Queen, Anjou, Lorrain.
King.
My Lord, I come to pour the Balm of Tears
Into your Wound; I come to threaten death
To that bold Villain who durst act this outrage:
And by my Soul I swear, my Father shall
Have such Revenge, as if a King were kill'd.

Adm.
I thank your Majesty, and humbly crave
Your leave, Sir, to retire home to Chastillon;
Where, from these tumultuous Parisians,
I may, my Lord, recover this Misfortune.

Q. M.
What, take a Journey, Sir, in this condition?
Your Death must follow: but, alas, I fear,
I fear the truth, with tears I must avow it,
My Lord, you dare not trust the King and Me.

Adm.
O, do not tax me with the least Suspicion:
I must believe the Royal Majesty;
But all my fear is for my dear Companions,
And these lov'd Princes, whom the Heav'ns defend.

King.
Therefore my Brother streight shall draw the Guards
Within the City, while for present Safety
I order Monsieur Cosen's Company
To keep your Quarters from all fear of Tumult.
O, Father, Father, do not wound my Soul
By a distrust unworthy of 'us both.

Q. M.
Ah, my Lord Admiral, can you imagine
That we are past all fear, or hope of Mercy,
That there's no Conscience, no regard of Vows,
No Grace, no Reverence, fear of Heav'n, nor Hell,
Nor common Care of Fame, ev'n in this World?

King.
To Bed, to Bed; let me intreat you rest.

Q. M.
Nay, you shall go, my Lord, supported thus
Betwixt your Bosom-Friends: believe me, Sir,
This is not feign'd; there are not two alive
That love you more, than those that now sustain you.

Adm.
Is't possible? Why, if it were dissembled,
The very Counterfeit of such a Friendship
Were worth a dying for. Alas, my Lord?
O, Madam! Why, why must this trouble be?
But lead me, lead your poor old Admiral,
Blind with his Tears, and faint with his Blood:
If I do well again, I'll thank you, Sir,
I'll thank you in the Field; O, grant it, Heav'n,
That I may end where no Assassins are,
And fall a Victim in the Glorious War.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Guise, Aumale, Elbeuf, Angolesme, with Parisians.
Gui.
Look you, my Lords, this is, this is the Royal Order;
The Dukes of Nevers and Monpensier
Must wait to guard the Person of the King,
With all the Royal Regiment in Arms:
Haste, for the day begins to wear apace.

An. El.
We obey.

[Exeunt ambo.
Gui.
President Charton, Provost de Marchand,
The Head of the Parisians.

Pros.
Here, my Lord.

Gui.
Provide two thousand men compleatly arm'd,
Let each particular man, on his left arm
Wear a Shirt-sleeve, and a white Cross in's Hat,
That, upon notice given, all may be ready
To execute his Majesty's Commands:
The Eschevins of every several Ward
See in just order and precisely set,
That upon ringing the Palace-bell,
Lights may be put directly on the instant
In every Window all throughout the Town.

Pros.
It shall be done.

[Exit.
Gui.
My Lord Grand Prior,
With what Commanders we can rise, be ready
To take the Admiral's life. But see the Queen?

Enter Queen Mother, Cardinal, Anjou.
Q. M.
Come, come, my Lords, let's lose no longer time;
The Hugonots proceed not to a Tumult,
But only vent their Fury in high words:
Therefore away. My Lord of Guise, your Father,
Looks from the Clouds, and cryes, Revenge, Revenge.
I think 'twere better too, while you kill the Admiral,
The King's Grand Provost should pursue his Wife.

Gui.
The old gray Sire, the Dam, and little Babes,
I'le take 'em all together in the Nest,
And pash 'em till they Sprawl. You and the Cardinal
Haste to the Louvre; when the Gates are shut,
Call the Chief Hugonots down, and cut their Throats.
My Lord, the Duke of Anjou, to your Care
The King commits the City: So Farewell;
There wants no more but ringing of the Bell.

[Exeunt Severally.
SCENE. The City.
Lights in the Windows. The President Marches his Men over the Stage: the Bell of the Palace rings out.
Enter Admiral in his Night-Gown.
Adm.
The Palace Bell rings out, loud Cries of Murder,
Guns fir'd, and groans of dying men below;
The King has giv'n his Warrant for my last;
His Vows, his Oaths, and Altar-Obligations
Are lost: the Wax of all those Sacred Bonds
Runs at the Queens Revenge, the Fire that melts 'em
They are no more: the Admiral's no more.

Enter Cavagnes bleeding.
Cav.
My Lord, God calls us; Death is in the Court:
Fate, in the shape of Guise, all over Blood.
I saw your Son in Law Teligny dye;
Roura, the Son of Baron des Atrets,
With Colonel Montaumar, Gallant Guerchy,
Wrapping his Cloak about his Arm, fought on
Till he was all one wound, and so Expir'd:
But hark, they come!

Adm.
Why, let 'em, let 'em come;
We shall e're long, my Friend, be worth their Envy:
To dye thus for Religion, O, Cavagnes,
It puts the Soul in everlasting Tune,
And sounds already in the Ears of Angels!
And, O, what cause had ever such Foundation!
I tell thee that the Root shall reach the Center,
Spread to the Poles, and with her top touch Heav'n.
But see, they come: stand fixt, and look on Death
With such Contempt, so Masterly an Eye,
As if he were thy Slave.

Enter Besnie, Sartabons, 4 Souldiers.
Besn.
See where he stands! ha, Slaves, what makes you pause.

1 Sould.
Kill him your self, for my part I'le not touch him.

2 Sould.
Nor I: for my part I am sorry for what is done already.

Adm.
Cowards indeed! thus to be terrified
Ev'n with the shadow of th'Admiral.

Besn.
It goes against me; yet I must obey:
Sheath all your Daggers in the Traytor's Breast.

Adm.
Young Man, thou oughtest to reverence these gray hairs;
But I command thee, do as thou art order'd,
Thou'lt cut but little from the Line of Life.

Besn.
Dye then, dye both: now for his Wife and Children.

[Stabs both, and Exeunt.
Adm.
Heard'st thou, Cavagnes? said they not my Children.

Cavag.
I know not what you say; the stroak of Death
Has stun'd my sense of Hearing.

Adm.
Yet let's crawl
With all our Wounds into each others Arms,
And hand in hand go Martyr'd thus to Heaven.

Cavag.
I am gone, farewel.

[Dyes.
Adm.
Why dost thou shudder thus,
And gasp upon my Bosom? 'Twas his last;
My Soul so likes her house, she's loth to part;
But, O what Builder can repair the ruines?
The Lights are choak'd, the Windows are damn'd up,
The main Beams crack, and the Foundation sinks;
Besides, the Lordly Owner warns me forth:
I come, great Master of the World and me,
And, O revenge, revenge thy Peoples blood.
A hundred thousand Souls for Justice call;
Let not the guiltless without Vengeance fall.

[Dyes.
Enter the Duke of Guise and Souldiers.
Gui.
So fling him down, down with him to the Court,
Expose his Carcass to the Peoples mercy,
Drag him away, and hurl him from the Window:
See all his Bastards strangled on the spot;
There's Orders for't. The Hostel de Chastillon
Be raz'd for ever: his Posterity
Be made incapable of bearing Office,
Or being Noble; burn his Statue, haste:
There's a Commission granted for the deed;
Nay, kill, as if 'twere Sport to see 'em bleed.

[Exeunt.

SCENA ULTIMA.

The LOUVRE.
Queen Mother, Cardinal, Duke of Anjou, Colonel D'O.
Q. M.
Here Colonel bring forth your Prisoners,
And let me see these Leaders of the Faction.
[The Scene draws, showing the Commanders standing with their hands ty'd behind 'em betwixt the Souldiers in a rank
The Count de Rochfaucalt, Marquis de Renel, Piles, Pluvialt, Pardillan, and Lavardin.
Give the Word Colonel.

D'O.
Fire on 'em all.

[Shoot.]
The Scene draws, and shews the Admiral's Body burning.
Gui.
I saw the Master Villain dragg'd along
To Execution, by the Common People,
Who from the Shoulders tore the mangled Head,
Cut off his Hands, and at Mountfaucon hung him,
Half burning, by one Leg upon the Gallows.

Enter King, Princes, Alberto Gondi.
King.
O horror! horror! O thou cruel Guise!
O Mother! Brother! and thou Murd'ring Priest!
Dost thou not blush to sail in Seas of ruin,
To hang the Flag of a Damn'd Pyrat forth,
Yet call thy bloody Bark the Christian Church?
Or, tell me, Canst thou lay the Furies here,
Pale Hugonots that haunt me up and down
Through Chambers, into Closets, Beds, and Couches?
Or dar'st thou shield me, when the Admiral's Ghost
Claps to my Heart the Dagger of my Word?

Q. M.
Why are you thus?

King.
The Angel's words are true,
And Charles is near his end. O Mother! Mother!
Hear my last words, and take my dying Counsel,
Stop the vast Murder that you have begun;
For know, all Churches by Decree and Doctrine,
Kings by their Sword and Balance of their Justice,
All Learning, Christian, Moral, and Prophane,
Shall by the virtue of their Mercury Rod
For ever damn to Hell those curs'd Designs
That with Religion's Face to ruin tend,
And go by Heav'n to reach the blackest end.

[Exeunt Omnes.