Scene XXII

Sound Drumme and Trumpets, and enter the King of France,
and Navarre, Epernoune, Bartus, Pleshe and Souldiers.

KING
Brother of Navarre, I sorrow much,
That ever I was prov'd your enemy,
And that the sweet and princely minde you beare,
Was ever troubled with injurious warres:
I vow as I am lawfull King of France,
To recompence your reconciled love,
With all the honors and affections,
That ever I vouchsafte my dearest freends.

NAVARRE
It is enough if that Navarre may be
Esteemed faithfull to the King of France:
Whose service he may still commaund to death.

KING
Thankes to my Kingly Brother of Navarre.
Then there wee'l lye before Lutetia's walles,
Girting this strumpet Cittie with our siege,
Till surfeiting with our afflicting armes,
She cast her hatefull stomack to the earth.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER
And it please your Majestie heere is a Frier of the
order of the Jacobins, sent from the President of Paris, that
craves accesse unto your grace.

KING
Let him come in.

Enter Frier with a Letter.

EPERNOUNE
I like not this Friers look.
Twere not amisse my Lord, if he were searcht.

KING
Sweete Epernoune, our Friers are holy men,
And will not offer violence to their King,
For all the wealth and treasure of the world.
Frier, thou dost acknowledge me thy King?

FRIER
I my good Lord, and will dye therein.

KING
Then come thou neer, and tell what newes thou bringst.

FRIER
My Lord,
The President of Paris greetes your grace,
And sends his dutie by these speedye lines,
Humblye craving your gracious reply.

KING
Ile read them Frier, and then Ile answere thee.

FRIER
Sancte Jacobus, now have mercye on me.

He stabs the King with a knife as he readeth the letter, and
then the King getteth the knife and killes him.

EPERNOUNE
O my Lord, let him live a while.

KING
No, let the villaine dye, and feele in hell,
Just torments for his trechery.

NAVARRE
What, is your highnes hurt?

KING
Yes Navarre, but not to death I hope.

NAVARRE
God shield your grace from such a sodaine death:
Goe call a surgeon hether strait.

[Exit attendant.]

KING
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.

KING
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,