The Massacre at Paris by Christopher Marlowe, Arthur Henry Bullen
Scene Xxii
[Enter two Murderers, dragging in the Cardinal.]
CARD Murder me not; I am a cardinal.
FIRST MURD Wert thou the Pope thou might'st not scape from us.
CARD What, will you file your hands with churchmen's blood?
SEC. MURD Shed your blood! O Lord, no! for we intend to strangle you.
CARD Then there is no remedy, but I must die?
FIRST MURD No remedy; therefore prepare yourself.
CARD Yet lives my brother Duke Dumaine, and many mo, To revenge our deaths upon that cursèd king; Upon whose heart may all the Furies gripe, And with their paws drench his black soul in hell!
FIRST MURD Yours, my Lord Cardinal, you should have said.— THEY STRANGLE HIM . So, pluck amain: He is hard-hearted; therefore pull with violence. Come, take him away. [Exeunt with the body.