Monologue

King Monologue from Massacre at Paris

From Massacre at Paris by Christopher Marlowe

male · defiant · 1:59 min

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What irreligeous Pagans partes be these, Of such as horde them of the holy church? Take hence that damned villaine from my sight. (Exeunt attendants with body) (EPERNOUNE: Ah, had your highnes let him live, We might have punisht him for his deserts.) Sweet Epernoune all Rebels under heaven, Shall take example by his punishment, How they beare armes against their soveraigne. Goe call the English Agent hether strait, Ile send my sister England newes of this, And give her warning of her trecherous foes. (Enter Surgeon.) (NAVARRE: Pleaseth your grace to let the Surgeon search your wound.) The wound I warrant you is deepe my Lord, Search Surgeon and resolve me what thou seest. The Surgeon searcheth. Enter the English Agent. Agent for England, send thy mistres word, What this detested Jacobin hath done. Tell her for all this that I hope to live, Which if I doe, the Papall Monarck goes To wrack, an antechristian kingdome falles. These bloudy hands shall teare his triple Crowne, And fire accursed Rome about his eares. Ile fire his erased buildings and incense The papall towers to kisse the holy earth. Navarre, give me thy hand, I heere do sweare, To ruinate this wicked Church of Rome, That hatcheth up such bloudy practices. And heere protest eternall love to thee, And to the Queene of England especially, Whom God hath blest for hating Popery.

About this piece

30s · anger · power · revenge · betrayal · religion

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