The Massacre
Welcome to France thy fathers royall seate,
Heere hast thou a country voide of feares,
A warlike people to maintaine thy right,
A watchfull Senate for ordaining lawes,
A loving mother to preserve thy state,
And all things that a King may wish besides:
All this and more hath Henry with his crowne.
Car.
And long may Henry enjoy all this & more.
All.
Vive la Roy, vive la Roy. Sound trumpets.
Henry,
Thanks to you al. The guider of all crownes,
Graunt that our deeds may wel deserve your loves:
And so they shall, if fortune speed my will,
And yeeld our thoughts to height of my desertes.
What saies our Minions, think they Henries heart
Will not both harbour love and Majestie?
Put of that feare, they are already joynde,
No person, place, or time, or circumstance,
Shall slacke my loves affection from his bent,
As now you are, so shall you still persist,
Remooveles from the favours of your King.
Mugeroun.
We know that noble mindes change not their thoughts
For wearing of a crowne: in that your grace,
Hath worne the Poland diadem, before
you were invested in the crowne of France:
Henry,
I tell thee Mugeroun we will be freends,
And fellowes to, what ever stormes arise.
Mugeroun.
Then may it please your Majestie to give me leave,
To
