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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 coa.r.s.e: 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 Ma.s.sacre.
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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d.
MOUNTSORRELL. Then take this with you.
