id it was a heape of vanities?
He that will be a flat decotamest,
And seen in nothing but Epitomies:
Is in your judgment thought a learned man.
And he forsooth must goe and preach in Germany:
Excepting against Doctors actions,
And ipse dixi with this quidditie,
Argumentum testimonis est in arte partialis.
To contradict which, I say Ramus shall dye:
How answere you that? your nego argumentum
Cannot serve, Sirrah, kill him.

RAMUS. O good my Lord, let me but speak a word.

ANJOY. Well, say on.

RAMUS. Not for my life doe I desire this pause,
But in my latter houre to purge my selfe,
In that I know the things that I have wrote,
Which as I heare one Shekins takes it ill,
Because my places being but three, contain all his:
I knew the Organon to be confusde,
And I reduc'd it into better forme.
And this for Aristotle will I say,
That he that despiseth him, can nere
Be good in Logick or Philosophie.
And thats because the blockish Sorbonests
Attribute as much unto their workes,
As to the service of the eternall God.

GUISE. Why suffer you that peasant to declaime?
Stab him I say and send him to his freends in hell.

ANJOY. Nere was there Colliars sonne so full of pride.

Kill him. [Close the studie.]

GUISE. My Lord Anjoy, there are a hundred Protestants,
Which we have chaste into the river Sene,
That swim about and so preserve their lives:
How may we doe? I feare me they will live.

DUMAINE. Goe place some men upon the bridge,
With bowes and cartes to shoot at them they see,
And sinke them in the river as they swim.

GUISE. Tis well advisde Dumain, goe see it done.

Exit Dumaine.

And in the mean time my Lord, could we devise,
To get those pedantes from the King Navarre,
That are tutors to him and the prince of Condy--

ANJOY. For that let me alone, Cousin stay heer,
And when you see me in, then follow hard.

He knocketh, and enter the King of Navarre and Prince
of Condy, with their scholmaisters.

How now my Lords, how fare you?

NAVARRE. My Lord, they say
That all the protestants are massacred.

ANJOY. I, so they are, but yet what remedy:
I have done all I could to stay this broile.

NAVARRE. But yet my Lord the report doth run,
That you were one that made this Massacre.

ANJOY. Who I? you are deceived, I rose but no