The Massacre at Paris by Christopher Marlowe, Arthur Henry Bullen
Scene Ix
[Enter Ramus, in his study.]
RAMUS What fearful cries come from the river Seine, That fright poor Ramus sitting at his book! I fear the Guisians have pass'd the bridge, And mean once more to menace me.
[Enter Talæus.]
TAL Fly, Ramus, fly, if thou wilt save thy life!
RAMUS Tell me, Talæus, wherefore should I fly?
TAL The Guisians are Hard at thy door, and mean to murder us: Hark, hark, they come! I'll leap out at the window.
RAMUS. Sweet Talæus, stay.
[Enter Gonzago and Retes.]
GON Who goes there?
RETES 'Tis Talæus, Ramus' bedfellow.
GON What art thou?
TAL I am, as Ramus is, a Christian.
RETES O, let him go; he is a Catholic. [Exit Talæus.
GON Come, Ramus, more gold, or thou shall have the stab.
RAMUS Alas, I am a scholar! how should I have gold? All that I have is but my stipend from the king, Which is no sooner receiv'd but it is spent.
[Enter Guise, Anjou, Dumaine, Mountsorrell, and Soldiers.]
ANJ Who have you there?
RETES 'Tis Ramus, the king's Professor of Logic.
GUISE Stab him.
RAMUS O, good my lord, Wherein hath Ramus been so offensious?
GUISE Marry, sir, in having a smack in all, And yet didst never sound anything to the depth. Was it not thou that scoff'dst the Organon, And said it was a heap of vanities? He that will be a flat dichotomist, And seen in nothing but epitomes, Is in your judgment thought a learnèd man; And he, forsooth, must go and preach in Germany, Excepting against doctors' axioms, And ipse dixi with this quiddity, Argumentum testimonii est inartificiale. To contradict which, I say, Ramus shall die: How answer you that? your nego argumentum Cannot serve, sirrah.—Kill him.
RAMUS O, good my lord, let me but speak a word!
ANJ Well, say on.
RAMUS Not for my life do I desire this pause; But in my latter hour to purge myself, In that I know the things that I have wrote, Which, as I hear, one Scheckius takes it ill, Because my places, being but three, contain all his. I knew the Organon to be confus'd, And I reduc'd it into better form: And this for Aristotle will I say, That he that despiseth him can ne'er Be good in logic or philosophy; And that's because the blockish Sorbonnists Attribute as much unto their [own] works As to the service of the eternal God.
GUISE Why suffer you that peasant to declaim? Stab him, I say, and send him to his friends in hell.
ANJ Ne'er was there collier's son so full of pride. [Stabs Ramus, who dies.
GUISE My Lord of Anjou, there are a hundred Protestants Which we have chased into the river Seine, That swim about, and so preserve their lives: How may we do? I fear me they will live.
DUM Go place some men upon the bridge, With bows and darts, to shoot at them they see, And sink them in the river as they swim.
GUISE 'Tis well advis'd, Dumaine; go see it straight be done. [Exit Dumaine. And in the meantime, my lord, could we devise To get those pedants from the King Navarre, That are tutors to him and the Prince of Condé—
ANJ For that, let me alone: cousin, stay you here, And when you see me in, then follow hard.
Anjou knocketh at the door: and enter the King of Navarre and the Prince of Condé, with their two Schoolmasters.
How now, my lords! how fare you?
NAV My lord, they say That all the Protestants are massacred.
ANJ I, so they are; but yet, what remedy? I have done what I could to stay this broil.
NAV But yet, my lord, the report doth run That you were one that made this massacre.
ANJ Who, I? you are deceiv'd; I rose but now. [Guise and the others come forward from the back of the stage.
GUISE Murder the Huguenots! take those pedants hence!
NAV Thou traitor, Guise, lay off thy bloody hands!
CON Come, let us go tell the king. [Exit with the King of Navarre.
GUISE Come, sirs, I'll whip you to death with my poniard's point. [Stabs the Schoolmasters, who die.
ANJ Away with them both! [Exeunt Anjou and Soldiers with the bodies.
GUISE And now, sirs, for this night let our fury stay. Yet will we not that the massacre shall end: Gonzago, post you to Orleans, Retes to Dieppe, Mountsorrell unto Rouen, And spare not one that you suspect of heresy. And now stay That bell, that to the devil's matins rings. Now every man put off his burgonet, And so convey him closely to his bed. [Exeunt.