HENRY the Sixth, The First PART.
WITH THE MURDER OF HUMPHREY Duke of Glocester.
As it was Acted at the Dukes Theatre.
Written by Mr. CROWN.
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley, and M. Magnes, in Russel-Street, in Covent-Garden. 1681.
The Prologue.
WIth much ado a
Prologue we obtain'd,
From th' Author who this good old
Play did mend.
He said a
Prologue was a Painted Clout,
Only to tell the
Shew within, hung out,
And he no pains wou'd on the Clout bestow,
When very few wou'd come to see the
Show.
The
Comet that last Summer flam'd obove,
Has dropt his Pitch in every Dish you love.
Poor slighted Wit is flung among the Swine,
Like Grapes in
France, now you forbid their Wine.
Play-Houses like forsaken Barns are grown,
The lusty Threshers of both ends of Town.
Let the Corn rot, and give their Labour o're,
And so the Vizards cackle here no more:
Or if they hither come 'tis but for fear,
Lest zealous Constables find 'em elsewhere,
And their torn Coats for Romish Reliques seize,
And the poor Girles for Painted Images.
Thus all your Pleasures wither and decay,
You 've suck'd the Globe, and flung the shell away.
As for our wretched selves we are forc'd still,
To chaw down
Poetry against our will,
But little Pleasure it to us does give,
We swallow it as Sick-Men eat, to live.
And to preserve your Stomacks we make bold,
To Cram you every day with New or Old.
To day we bring old gather'd Herbs, 'tis true,
But such as in sweet
Shakespears Garden grew.
And all his Plants immortal you esteem,
Your Mouthes are never out of taste with him.
Howe're to make your Appetites more keen,
Not only oyly Words are sprinkled in;
But what to please you gives us better hop
[...],
A little Vineger against the
Pope.
The Persons Represented in the PLAY.
- King Henry the Sixth, By Mr. Jos. Williams.
- Humphry Duke of Glocester, Lord Protector of the Kingdom, and Uncle to the King, being Brother to King Henry the 5th, By Mr. Batterton.
- The Cardinal— a Bastard Son of John of Gaunt, and so Uncle to Duke Humphry. By Mr. Harris.
- Richard Plantagenet, Heir of the House of York, pretender to the Crown. By Mr. D. Williams.
- Duke of Buckingham.
- Earl of Warwick.
- Earl of Salisbury.
- Duke of Suffolk, a Lover of the Queen. By Mr. Smith.
- Queen Margaret, Wife of King Henry the 6th, in Love with the Duke of Suffolk. By my La. Slingsby.
- Elianor, Duchess of Glocester, Wife to the Lord Protector. By Mrs. Batterton.
- Sheriff of London, Sir John Stanly. Attendants.
SCENE, The Court at Westminster.
TO Sir CHARLES SIDLEY BARONET.
SIR,
I Am afraid I shall displease you, by setting your Name, before so scandalous a thing as a Pamphlet of mine; but when I have told you the reason, I believe you will pardon me. I make not use of your Name to add a lustre to mine; I am not so much concerned for it. Fame built on Poetry is like a Castle in the Air, which the next Wind demolishes. I have heard of great Armies Mustered in the Air, but never of any thing they Conquered. Such are the Forces of Poetry, I have had my Ears torn with the noise of a Poets Drums and Trumpets, of the Bellowing of his Actors, and the clapping of his Audience, but I never heard of one inch of firm Land he gained. All he fought for was Inchanted Ground, which now he seems to possess, and anon it vanishes, has nothing real in it but the vexation of obscene Birds, which disturb him with their croaking, whilst he wakes, and defile him by muting upon him if ever he sleeps. No wise Man can much regard what his share is in such a barren and floating Place.
My concernment is for some little Truth and good Sense, Commodities which no one will expect to find aboard such a Paper Boat, as a Play, were it not convoy'd by so flourishing and great Reputation as yours. I speak not my own, but the opinion of some of the wisest Men of this Age, this Play is no indifferent Satyre upon the most p [...]mpous fortunate and potent Folly, that ever reigned over the minds of men, called Popery. My Lord Bacon says, good Books ought to have no other Patrons but Truth and Reason. Many other things ought to be, that never will. If Truth and Reason were things so potent, how came Folly and Error to prevail over e'm in all Ages and Nations? How came Wisdom to live among the Antients in Porches and Tubs, and Fools to shine in Palaces whilst living, and in Temples when dead? How came Truth among Christians to be troden under foot, for several hundreds of Years, whilst Error and Folly rode on mens Shoulders, and trod on Princes Necks? Mens Shoulders had never been so ill us'd, if their Heads had been good. And when a Germane Fryar d [...]scovered Trutb, by an accident as strange as another did [Page] Gunpowder, how come the latter mischievous invention, to have fifty times the success of the former, and to pierce a hundred times as many Heads and Hearts? If Truth in Schools and Churches meet so much contempt, what must it expect in so wretched a thing as a Play is now esteemed? The wisest Men among the Ancients indeed, thought themselves scarce wise enough to judge Drammatique Poetry, but ours think themselves much too Wise, and throw it off as a Trifle for Women and Fools to play with; and by that means it pines more and more into a Trifle. For what vigour soever is necessary to please Ladies elsewhere, Impotence best delights e'm upon the Stage. The Poets that will hit the right Mark, must aim at the Boxes, and what Arrows they shoot over them are all lost, nor are our Male Judges of a more Masculine Spirit. I have always observed when an Actor talks Sense, the Audience begins to sleep, but when an unnatural passion sets him a grimacing and howling as if he were in a fit of the Stone, they immediately waken, listen, and stare, as if some rare Operator were about to Cut him: In short, Sense is so great a stranger to the most, that it is never welcome to Company for its own sake, but the sake of the Introducer. For this reason I use your Name to guide that share of it is in this Play through the Press, as I did Shakespear's to support it on the Stage. I called it in the Prologue Shakespear's Play, though he has no Title to the 40th part of it. The Text I took out of his Second Part of Henry the Sixth, but as most Texts are serv'd, I left it as soon as I could. For though Shakespear be generally very delightful, h is not so always. His Volumn is all up-hill and down, Paradise was never more pleasant than some parts of it, nor Ireland and Greenland colder, and more uninhabitable then others. And I have undertaken to cultivate one of the most barren Places in it. The Trees are all Shrubs, and the Men Pigmies, nothing has any Spirit, or shape; the Cardinal is duller then ever Priest was. And he has hudled up the Murder of Duke Humphry, as if he had been guilty of himself, and was afraid to shew how it was done: But I have been more bold, to the great displeasure of some, who are it seems ashamed of their own mysteries, for there is not a Tool us'd in the murder of Duke Humphry in this Play, but what is taken out of their own Church Armory, nor a word put into the mouth of the Cardinal and his foolish Instruments, but what first dropt from the Heads that adorn their own Church Battlements. I cou'd be large in Quotations did I not nauseate Pedantry. I shall only shew that what serves here to make the Comical part of a Play, does in the Popish Countries compose the gravest part of their Devotion. I make the foolish Murderer complain that he cou'd not thrive, though he kept every Day a Holy-day in honour of some Saint. Now nothing is more known then that in those Countries, the great Trafique between them and their Saints, almost ruine all other Trades. The People are forced to keep so many Holy-days, that they have not Working-days enough to keep themselves; when they shou'd be labouring to fill their Bellies, they are cramming Latine into their Mouths, in the honour of some Saint, who perhaps understands not a word of the Language, unless he learnt it since he died, which is a great doubt. And they have so many Saints, that the People in Heaven starve those upon Earth, and contrary to what is done in other Famines, the Dead devour the Living. No Manufactury [Page] thrives like that of Saint-making, all others must contribute to that, and even the Workmanship of God must grow poor to enrich that of the Priests. When all the Saints had disappointed this poor Fellow, I make him go to a Priest for advice, who instead of bidding him follow his calling, sets him a mumbling a Prayer, which he tells him is of that efficacy, that if he says it over Thirty Days together, it will procure him in the end what ever he asks for. What appears too ridiculous here for the mouth of a Stage-fool, in a Country no less polished then France, is recommended to the Faith and Devotion of no less a Prince then the Dauphin, in a little Book entituled, ‘HEVRES Dedidees a Monsiegneur le Dauphin, contenant L' Office qui se dit en L' Eglise, ave l' Exercice du Matin, & en soir, & le Catechisme dresse par les Peres de la Mission.’ The Prayer is to the Virgin Mary, in the 229th Page, in the middle of the Prayer 'tis said, — Here demand what ever you please.
When this Prayer would not do, I make the Priest give him another, Conveyed by an Angel as he says into the Grave of a Germane Lady, who had her Head cut off, and lived after it two and twenty Hours, not being able to die, till she had Confessed and Communicated. And the Prayer had this miraculous power annext to it, that whosoever did but carry it about him, shou'd never suffer by Sea or by Land, &c. This I found in a little French Book of Devotion to the Virgin Mary, Licenced by the Fathers of the Augustine Friars, as containing nothing in it contrary to Catholick Faith, and recommended to the People with an extraordinary Approbation; by what Charter these Prayers claim such great Priviledges, is not said, yet must be believed. Some think me very profane, for bringing what belongs to the Church upon the Stage; but they may allow me that, since they have carried many things that belong to the Stage into the Church. To expose these Follies to the People is the business of this Play, and I believe you will pardon me that I borrow some assistance from your Reputation, since you your self have of late to your very great Honour, employ'd your Interest and excellent Ʋnderstanding in the same design. And though you can do it better in common Conversation, then I by all my Study and Premeditation, It follows not, because Lightning sometimes shoots through all the Heavens, and rends the Oaks, a Man may not light a Candle in the Night: To hinder this Rush light from being blown out, is the reason why I place your Name before it. I have a mind the Play shou'd be read, and every one will read it, if they think you like it. I know few Ʋnderstandings so universally esteem'd as yours, and for so good Reason. It wou'd be foolish in me to lash out into unnecessary praises of a Wit that has been so long the delight and ornament of the Nation, and is now become the Defence of what is very dear to it, Truth, Liberty, and Property. I have so deeply felt, what the loss of Property is, that I cannot but honour the Defenders of it, though their defence comes too late to me. I may appear vain in my complaint, but People will Groan when they are in pain; my Father, and by consequence my self, his Heir, was stript long since (by the advice of some ill great Men, who sacrifice [Page] both private and publick Interest to their own) of the Moity of a Province so considerable, the French Crown thought it worth contending for, many Years. And if that fortunate Kingdom strove for it, you may imagine they got it. I have great hopes of a speedy reparation from the great Justice Clemency and Goodness of his Majesty. But this loss made me run into that Madness, call'd Poetry, and inhabit that Bedlam, call'd a Stage. I have been so happy, that for several Years, certain Gentlemen unknown to me, have fallen on me, and endeavoured to Bleed me when ever I appear'd. I wish I knew 'em, that I might thank 'em for the Kindness they have done me, though they design'd me nothing but Mischief. The grounds of their Antipathy I know not. Fools I confess may be very well moved to bark at Poets, from the same cause, that they say all kind of Dogs do at Skinners, from a natural instinct that gives 'em notice their own Hides are in danger. But I have no great scent of Blood upon me, and therefore must impute their Aversions to those Occult Qualities that puzle Philosophers. This convinces me, 'tis necessary for me to flie to some Wise Mans protection; and I cannot be safer than under yours. Poets are too poor to be beg'd, 'tis well if they can get Guardians for begging. I am confident you will be entreated to take upon you the Guardianship of this little parcel of a Mad-mans Estate, now I have told you for what good uses it 'tis design'd. And if so, this will do well, and I shall live at ease, for those who will behave themselves very rudely to me as a Poet, and to this as a thing for publick entertainment, will be very civil to this when it is under your care, and to me when I am received by you: For
SIR,
Your very humble Servant,
JOHN CROWN.
Henry the Sixth; OR, THE MURDER OF THE Duke of Glocester. The FIRST PART.
ACT. I.
Enter Humphry
Duke of Glocester,
Duke of York,
Cardinal Beauford,
Duke of Somerset,
Duke of Buckingham,
Earl of Salisbury,
Earl of Warwick.
Glo.
MY Lords, you cannot but have seen of late
Much discontent sit always on my Brow.
All Men that know me well, must know, no private
Petty concernment can unfix my mind.
No; (some will think perhaps I speak too proudly,
I care not what they think, I'le speak my Mind)
Nothing has weight enough to press my spirits
Less than the great Misfortunes of the Kingdom.
Card.
So! how my Lord Protector gracefully—
aside.
Ushers himself into these Lords esteem?
What bosom here now will not bid him wellcome?
I hate him, but I will not let him know it,
Till I can let him know it to his ruine.
Glo.
[Page 2]
Ah! my Lords, Did my valiant glorious Brother,
Henry the Fifth, erect the Law of
England
Above the
Roman, or the
Macedonian?
Do things, that made the Continent all tremble,
When e're the favourable Winds unlockt
The floating Gates of this our little World,
To let out that our brave Warriors to invade it,
That
France not only did confess it self
A Vassal to his Royal
English Blood;
But the whole Empire of the World did seem
To own it self the Birth right of his Valour?
Yo.
Eternity shall ne'r wear out the Characters
Of his Renown, which his keen Sword engrav'd.
Glo.
Ay, yes his fame shall last; but not his Empire:
He's dead, and with him his great Empire dies:
All that hi
[...] Valour got, all that the vigilance
And wisdom of my Brother
Bedford kept:
All that your selves and I, have early and late
Study'd to keep, and kept some years with glory,
Crowning our King in
Paris in his Infancy,
Making Proud
France bow to an
English Child.
All, all these Labours, Victories and Glories,
Are melting down in a soft beautious bosom,
Given away to purchase a Fair Face.
A fatal Marriage in one fatal minute
Has spoyld the Work of many glorious years.
Card.
Nephew, you are more passionate than needs;
Erance is not gone, nor shall it go so easily.
Glo.
No, 'tis not gone indeed, but all the sluces
Are pulling up, and it is going fast.
'Tis pouring out apace in Provinces;
The new made Duke of
Suffolk gives whole Provinces
To buy the King a Wife,
Anjou and
Maine
Are frankly given to the Queen's poor Father
King
[...]eignier, whose high and flowing style
Dwells far above the Banks of his low Purse,
But he must have these Provinces to fill it.
Of such low value, in this Duke's esteem,
Is all the purchase of our Blood, that he
Wil give it all away for Blushing Cheeks.
Sal.
Those Dukedoms were the Keys of
Normandy.
My Lord of
Warwick Weeps—Why weeps my Son?
War.
Who wou'd not weep to see his own Blood cheapned
And sold before his Face at a low rate?
I won those Provinces, and what got
With Wounds, is given away with peaceful words.
Glo.
[Page 3]
Yes, and to make it even ridiculous,
The Duke of
Suffolk Asks a whole Fifteenth
For Charges, to Transport the Queen to
England.
What? Was there ne'r a Beauty in the World
Besides the Queen? yes, sure there was in
England;
Had the King so much doted upon Beauty,
He might have Married one of His fair Subjects,
And had more Beauty at a cheaper rate.
Card.
My Lord of
Glocester, this is hot discourse,
And, as I think, to very little purpose;
Since what is done, now cannot be recall'd;
And what is done, was done to please the King.
Glo.
My Lord of
Winchester I understand you;
'Tis not my hot Discourse, but Presence warms you.
You have a Fester'd Mind, and 'twill break out;
I saw it in your Face; if I stay longer
We shall begin our antient Bickerings:
But such small matters shall not trouble me,
I will be gone; but e're I go I'le Prophesy,
France will be lost: but I desire to prove
As False a Prophet, as you are a Priest—
Exeunt.
Card.
Affronted thus? 'Pox o' these fumbling Robes!
(aside.)
How came my Warlike Spirit wrapt in these
Formalities, that hold my hands from Blood?
I'm fitter for a Sword, and I will use one —
Did you not hear the good Protector, Lords?
Expect what usage you will have; when I
His Unckle, and a Priest, am thus abus'd.
You see how well his Enmity is heal'd;
And he has much the same ki
[...]dness for you,
And indeed for the King. He makes great shew
Of Zeal for
England, and he has great zeal for it
That is t'enjoy it; he is heir apparent;
And the King cannot please him by a Marriage,
Unless he'd Wed an Altar, or a Cell.
Be not, my Lords, cheated with his smooth words.
What though the foolish common people dote on him,
Clapping their hands, and shouting when they see him,
Crying, Heaven save your Ro
[...]al Excellence,
And call him always the good Duke of
Glocester?
They are Fools, and know not Men, nor what they love;
Uncheat e'm; but however save the King,
Protect him from his dangerous Protector.
Buck.
Why shou'd the King, my Lords, have a Protector?
He is of age (I think) to rule himself.
My Lord of
Somerset joyn you with me,
[Page 4]
We, with the Duke of
Suffolks ayd, will hoyse
Duke
Humphry from his Seat.
Card.
This weighty business
Brooks no delay; I'le to the Duke of
Suffolk—
Exit.
Som.
Though the Protector's Pride and Greatness vex us,
The Cardinal's Ins
[...]lence is more intolerable;
If
Gloster be displac'd he'l be Protector.
Buck.
If
Gloster falls, or you or I'le succeed —
Ex. Buck.
and Sal.
Sal.
So! so! the Kingdom will thrive well no doubt,
When all will rend her for their private ends.
I never saw but the good Duke of
Glocester
Bore himself like a Noble Gentleman;
But I have seen the Cardinal demean himself
More like a Soldier than a Priest; he'l often
Swear like a Ruffian, quarrel like a Hector,
Trample on all, as he were Lord of all:
My worthy Son, and you my Lord of
York,
My val
[...]a
[...]t Brother, let us joyn together,
And sh
[...]w the Kingdom has some good Men in it,
Who faithfully will serve their King and Country,
And ayd all others who promote that work,
And among those I reckon the Protector.
War.
So heaven help me, as I love my Country.—
Ex. Sal.
& War.
Yo.
And so say I, for I have greatest cause,
Anjou and
Main are given to the
French.
Two Dukedoms given for a Dukes fair Daughter.
Henry, I blame thee not: What is it to thee?
Thou dost not give away thine own, but mine.
Pirates may make cheap penny-worths of their Pillage.
Whilst the poor injur'd owner stands aloofe,
And shakes his head, and weeps, and wrings his hands,
And sees his Goods all borne away, and dares
Not touch his own, or scarcely call it his.
England, and
France, and
Ireland, are my Kingdoms
One day I may both claim and seize my own,
And from weak
Henry's Head may pull the Crown:
These high fierce Tempests methinks make it shake.
What opportunity they give, I'le take.
Exit.
Enter Duke of Glocester,
and his Dutchess Elianor.
Eli.
Why droops my Lord, and on the sullen Earth
Fixes his Eyes? What dost thou there behold
King
Henry's Diadem fallen from his Head,
Too feeble to support the m
[...]ghty weight?
If it be that thou look'st on, gaze thy fill,
[Page 5]
Put forth thy hand, and reach the glorious Gold.
Glo.
Oh
Nell! sweet
Nell! if thou dost love thy self,
Banish the Canker of Ambitious thoughts,
They will devour thy Peace, thy Life, thy Soul.
May the curst hour, when I imagine ill
Against my Royal Nephew, vertuous
Henry,
Be my last breathing in this mortal World.
Eli.
I wish the same to me; but, Is it ill
To the good Pious King, to take from him
A heavy Weight that presses him to Earth,
An Element his heavenly mind abhors?
His thoughts are all above, and Royal cares
Tear e'm, and pull e'm down to earth in spite of him,
And, What a torment to him must that be?
It is unjust to let so good a Prince
So cruelly be tortur'd with a Crown.
Gloc.
Oh
Elianour! away with thy fond words,
Thou mayst deceive thy self, thou canst not me:
Hast thou in my Embraces layn so long,
And am I yet wholly a stranger to thee?
I find thy high aspiring thoughts did study
My honor, and my offices, not me.
Thou know'st them well, thou hast weigh'd them exactly,
But me thou art an utter stranger to,
Or thou woud'st never tempt me to disloyalty.
Eli.
He is the loyal Subject seeks to please
His King, and not himself: 'Tis more disloyalty
T'impose a Crown upon Religious
Henry,
Than 'tis to Usurp one from another King.
But you are only Loyal to your self,
And your own fame; because to take the Crown
The World wou'd call Disloyalty and Treason;
You wrong the King, to save your own renown.
Glo.
Away, away fond
Elianor! — as Nature
Has given you Women thinner skins than Men,
Through which your working blood is easier seen;
So thinner Arts to hide your laboring thoughts.
Do not I know your thoughts, designs, and soul,
And all you'd work me
[...]o as well as you?
You would have me throw my self down to Villany,
To exalt you in place above the Queen.
Blast my Renown and Soul to all eternity,
To please your haughtiness for some few years.
Oh
Elianor! now I must Chide outright;
Presumptuous, unkind, ill-minded
Elianor!
Are you not the second Woman in the Kingdom?
[Page 6]
H ve you not Worldly Pleasure at command?
A greater circle of delight, than all
Thy Soul can range about in thy whole Life?
Yet not content with these, Wilt thou be forging
New impious honors, till pil'd heap on heap
They fall, and overwhelm thy self and me?
E
[...]i.
I must confess I mortally abhor,
And scorn that Woman, which is now my Queen.
Oh! hateful thought! she! she! my Queen — a Vassal
Of
France subdu'd by us into a Province;
And she a Beggar in that Conquer'd Province,
Become the Queen, and Mistriss of her Conquerors;
I the first Woman of Victorious
England,
Bow to the last of low dejected
France?
Preposterous! ignominious! base! contemptible!
Had you the spirit of an English Conqueror,
You wou'd not bear it—but you have it not.
The mighty fire, that burnt so bright and hot
In the brave English Souls of the last Age,
Is blazing now its last in me a Woman;
Who can no more than greatly think and talk;
A shrewd sign heaven is taking from us
France,
Since he takes from us spirits that shou'd rule it.
And yet were I but Queen of
England once,
I wou'd not doubt but to keep Conquer'd
France.
Though Kings, and Lord Protectors cannot do it.
Glo.
Talk not of ruling Kingdoms, rule your self.
That I lament the King's most fatal Marriage,
The Queen her self, and all the Kingdom knows:
But I abhor it not for Womanish causes,
Because my Wive's inferior goes before her;
But because
France, England's inferior,
Will by this Match ascend above her Conqueror:
We give two Provinces to buy a Wife,
Who brings nought with her but a shameful Peace,
And this is that causes my present sadness.
Eli.
And sadness will redress your Country's Griefs.
Gl.
Yes! He shall dye that wrought e'm, trayterous
Suffolk.
Eli.
If
Suffolk dyes for bringing such a Curse on us,
What shou'd be done to her who is that Curse?
Let her not live, or rather let her live,
But live no Queen —
Glo.
But subject to your self —
Eli.
I almost scorn to have so poor a Subject.
Glo.
Ah,
Elianor! thy Pride, and my fond Love
To thee, will bring destruction on us both.
[Page 7]
Have I not Griefs enow already on me,
And Enemies enow that plot my ruine?
But you must be among the number of e'm?
Eli.
I'em Enemy to nothing but the Queen;
And I'le to her be an implacable
And Devillish Enemy, whil'st she is a Queen:
Let her be poor Dame
Margaret, and my Subject,
And I will Sign her then an Act of Grace.
Glo.
You will comply in nothing to please me.
Eli.
I will comply in every thing I can;
But I must hate the Queen in spite of me.
Glo.
If thou must hate her, do; but yet love me.
Eli.
I hope you doubt not that, my Lord.
Glo.
I do not.
Enter a Messenger.
Messen.
My Lord Protector, 'tis His Majesties pleasure
You prepare to ride to S.
Albans,
Where both the King and Queen are a going to Hawke.
Glo.
I go! — Come
Nell—Wilt thou along with us?—
Ex.
Eli.
Yes, my good Lord, I'le follow presently.
Follow — I that's the Word—follow I must,
Whil'st
Glocester bears this base and humble mind.
My Spirit cries, go first; the Duke sayes, follow:
Shall I obey my Husband, or my Soul?
My Soul is my self, he but my other self;
And by his humble mind my weaker self:
Well, I will play my part in Fortune; Pageant
Where are you there? Sir
John— nay, fear not Man,
We are alone, here's none but thee and I.
Enter Humes.
Hume.
Heaven preserve your Majesty.
Eli.
My Majesty?
Hume.
Yes, that will be your Title very shortly.
Eli.
Has my infernal friend the Devil said this,
By his Priest and Priestess the Conjurer and Witch?
Hast thou conferr'd with e'm?
Hume.
Madam I have.
Eli.
And Will they undertake to do me service?
Hume
They have promised from the infernal deeps to dragge
One of the Spirits that of old gave Oracles,
Whose fiery eye, by its own Native Light,
Sees all that's hidden in Fates dark Abyss,
[Page 8]
As plain as we Mortals when they come to light:
This Spirit shall make Answer to all Questions,
That it shall please your Grace to pose him with.
Eli.
It is enough. I'le think upon the Questions.
Here,
Hume, take this reward, make merry Man
With thy Confederates in this weighty business.
Hume.
I humbly thank your Grace—
Exit.
Enter the Duke of Suffolk
talking with the Queen.
Eli
See, here comes she
That blasts my eyes worse than the Spirit can do
The Witch will raise out of th' Infernal deep;
And with her, her damn'd Minion, Trayterous
Suffolk.
That I were now a Pestilence to cover her
From head to foot with tort'ring deadly sores.
I will throw scorn on her as I pass by,
A thing a Woman hates worse than the Plague.
And I will undermine her Royal Glories,
If digging deep as lowest Hell will do it.
I'le climbe the Throne, or else to Hell I'le fall;
If Heaven won't make me great, the Devil shall.
Qu.
Ha! Did you not observe, my Lord of
Suffolk,
With what contempt that Woman look'd upon me,
As she past by?
Suff.
I saw it, and I laugh'd at it.
Qu.
Ho! call her back, and fling her at my feet.
Suff.
She shall fall shortly there, and lower too,
If my Plots fail not.—
Enter Petitioners, Peter
the Armorers Man being one.
1.
Pet.
May it please your Grace.
Suff.
What woud'st thou have with me?
1.
Pet.
I think you be my Lord Protectors Grace,
If you be, pray your Grace see my Petition.
2.
Pet.
And mine.
3
Pet.
And mine—an't please your Grace,
Qu.
So, All Petitions to the Protector's Grace,
The Kingdoms supplications all to him,
And all the Ladies follow his Wives Train:
The King and I are only Royal Cyphers,
Flourish'd and guilded only with fine Titles.
Come, What are your Petitions? let me see e'm.
1.
Pet.
Mine is, an't please you Madam, against John Goodman, my Lord Cardinall's Man, for keeping my House, and my Lands, and my Wife from me.
Suff.
[Page 9]
How? thy Wife from thee too? that's very hard.
1.
Pet.
Nay, an't please your Grace, let him give me my House and my Lands, and let him keep my Wife an' he will, I do not care, now he has had her so long.
Suff.
What's yours? What's here? Against the Duke of
Suffolk, for
Enclosing the Commons of
Melford? How now you Rascal?
2.
Pet.
An't please your Grace I am but a poor Petitioner of our whole Township.
Pet.
Mine is against my Master Thomas Horner, for saying, the Duke of York is lawful Heir to the Crown.
Qu.
How?
Pet.
Yes, and that the King is but an Usurper.
Qu.
There's a Villain indeed.
Suff.
Who is there?
Enter a Servant.
Take this Fellow in, and send for a Pursuivant presently,
We'l hear more of this Matter before the King.
Qu.
You, here; who shroud your selves under the Protector,
Begin your Suits anew, and sue to him.
Tears their Petition
[...]
This is the Duke of
Suffolk, I'me your Queen.
2
Pet.
The Duke of
Suffolk! oh! I am undone!
Qu.
Away you Slaves! ho! turn these Fellows out.
Is this the Fashion in the Court of
England?
Is this the Royalty of th' English King,
To be a Pupil to a Governour?
Am I a Queen, yet Subject to a Duke?
Oh my
La Poole! when in the City
Tours
Thou rann'st a tilt in honour of my Love,
And stol'st away the Ladies hearts of
France;
I from thy Graces copyed in my Mind
A charming glorious Picture of King
Henry;
I thought thy Courage, Courtship, and Proportion,
Had been brave Shadows, of thy braver King.
But oh! there ne'r was Woman so deceiv'd
At the first sight of the Kings sad grave Look;
The golden Image of him in my mind
Fell down upon my heart, and almost broke it.
My heavy heart sunk in a Royal shadow,
And greater was the fall, because before
It stood on high and golden expectations.
Ah! never was so sad a fall, as that
From glorious
Suffolk, down to soft King
Henry.
Suff.
Madam, be patient, for I Married you,
Not to the poor weak King, but to the brave Kingdom,
[Page 10]
And that I'le make a glorious Husband to you.
Qu▪
Indeed the Marriage 'tween the King and me
Is but a strange one; for to speak the truth,
I'm Wedded to the Throne more than to him,
And he is Married more to Heaven than me.
His Soul is Married to all the Saints in Heaven;
Heaven is the King's spacious Seraglio:
There his heart lives; that which he leaves below
With me, and with the Kingdom, is a shadow.
Suff.
He is indeed no more but a King's Ghost,
That walks in night; it has been night in
England
E'r since that Glorious Sun, his Father, set.
And
France and
England, like two metled Steeds
Bound, startle, break their reins, and run away,
At sight of this pale Ghost; nor will be Govern'd.
Qu.
'Twere night with
England, I am sure with me,
If 'twere not for my glorious
La Poole.
If 'twere not for thee,
England, were Hell to me,
And I tormented with Infernal pains,
Under the Arrogance of the Protector,
Of Cardinal
Beauford, that imperious Church Man,
Of
Somerset, Buckingham, and grumbling
York,
For each of these is greater than the King.
Suff.
And
Salisbury, and
Warwick are as great as they.
Qu.
Indeed, for any thing that I can see,
The King's the only Subject i
[...] the Kingdom.
He obeys all, and no one obeys him.
But all this does not vex me half so much,
As the intolerable insolence
Of that proud Dame, the Lord Protectors Wife.
She invades the Court each day, with Troopes of Ladies,
And vanquishes my Glory so entirely,
That I appear a little falling Star,
And she a Comet upon whom all gaze.
Her very Habit does exceed in cost
Th' expences of a little Princes Court.
She Swim's along the Court, like a Guilt Ship;
New come from
India, laden all with Jewels,
And then she scorns to strike her Sayl to me,
But over-looks me, like a little Pinke
Laden with Toyes and Fripperies from
France.
This slave to Pride, that shou'd be slave to me,
Vaunted amongst her Minions the other day,
The very Train of her worst wearing Gown,
Was better worth then all my Fathers Lands,
Till
Suffolk gave two Dukedoms for his Daughter.
Suff.
[Page 11]
Laugh at her Pride; for, Madam, it shall shortly
Be your Divertisement, and her Destruction.
I've dug a Pit for the fierce Lyoness.
Who, greedy of Honor, ranges to the very
Suburbs of Hell for it; and I've turn'd loose
Jackalls to tempt her to the Pit in shew,
Of guiding her to her desired Prey.
See here comes one of my Jackalls—Sir
John
What News?
Enter Humes.
Humes.
Good News, my Lord, I have been with the Duchess,
And did Salute her in the Devil's Name,
With the Title of Majesty.
Suff.
Ha! ha! ha!
(Laughs.)
Qu.
What do you mean?
Suff.
Madam, the Story will make you Laugh; the Duchess
Is going to the Devil for Preferment.
Qu.
How? To the Devil?
Suff.
Yes; and bribes this Gentleman,
To find out some of the Devil's Spyes and Agents,
To ayd her in a Correspondence with him.
Humes.
Madam, it is most true, and I've found out
One
Margery Jordan, an experienc'd Witch,
And
Roger Bullingbrook a Conjurer,
And they pretend they'l raise from Hell a Spirit
Shall tell her all she'l aske.
Qu.
Sure they are Cheats.
Suff.
They shall be Cheats to her, and her Duke
Humphry.
Two mortal Devils, call'd
York and
Buckingham,
Shall send their Devil to Hell, and carry her
To what she more than Hell abhors, to shame
And ruine, and her Duke shall quickly follow:
He must have share of it in spite of him.
Qu.
Oh! my
La Poole, that I were now in private
aside.
To Kiss thee for this Plot! Oh! 'tis a rare one!
Humes, carry on this Plot, here's Gold for thee,
Thou shalt have more.
Humes.
So, the Gold tumbles in
On every side of me, but 'tis no wonder.
aside.
I serve the Master of the Mines of the Devil,
And how in Hell he uses Slaves I know not:
He is an excellent Master in this World.
Exit.
Qu.
Oh!
Suffolk! thou didst never look so lovely
In all thy Life as now; nor did I ever
[Page 12]
Feel such transporting pleasure in my Soul.
Now I shall be a Queen.
Suff.
A glorious one.
I'm sure the fairest
England ever saw.
Qu.
Oh!
Suffolk! bravest, loveliest of Men!
I'm trebly blest by thee, thou dost delight
My Love, and my Revenge, and my Ambition.
Now all the Ladies that in scorn of me,
Flatter'd and waited on proud
Gloster's Wife,
Shall suddenly repent their sawcy follies.
Suff.
The Duke's of
Somerset, and
Buckingham,
With the Insolent Cardinal, shall all fall too.
As for the Duke of
York, this late Complaint
Will make but little for his benefit;
So one by one we'l tumble e'm all down.
Qu.
And on the Ruines of 'em all, we'l revel.
Suff.
And
England at the Queen's command shall be.
Qu.
I'le Govern that, and thou shalt govern me.
ACT II.
The King
and Queen
sat in State, Duke Humphry, Cardinal, Buckingham, York, Salisbury, Warwick,
and the Duchess attending.
King.
FOr my own part, my Lords, I care not whether
Rules
France, the Duke of
Somerset, or
York,
All's one to me, they are both fitting Men.
York.
Sir, if I ill demean'd my self in
France,
Then let me be deny'd the Regentship.
Som.
Sir, if I be unworthy of the place,
Then give the Duke of
York the Regentship.
War.
Whether your Grace, my Lord, be worthy or not;
Dispute not that, the Duke of
York is worthier.
Car.
Ambitious
Warwick! let your betters speak.
War.
The Cardinal's not my betters in the Field.
Buck.
My Lord, all in this Presence are your betters.
War.
In Title, not in Fortune, or in Courage.
Sal.
Peace, Son!
King.
Oh! peace my Lords! Do not you know
What little pleasure I have in my Crown,
And Do you strive to make me wearier of it?
You take it ill if I refuse you Governments,
[Page 13]
Yet you deny to let me Rule in quiet.
I wonder what you see in this vile World
Worth the contending for. Heaven has entrusted me
With Three Great Kingdoms,
England, France and
Ireland,
And I must give Account of 'em to Heaven,
And not throw up my Charge for my own ease,
Else I wou'd gladly give e'm all to buy
The holy Peace, any of you may have.
Yet you disturb your selves and me for Rule,
Which I account a Pennance for my sins.
Qu.
Is this a King that speaks? or some poor Pilgrim,
That having lost his way, seates himself ignorantly
Down in a Throne, and does not know 'tis one.
And falls a Preaching to the gaping Multitude.
Oh! What a Prince is this to sway three Kingdoms?
Aside.
And what a Husband's this for a young Queen?
Yo.
Most Gratious Soveraign! our chief contention
Is to give you that ease which you delight in,
To lay the burden of your Government
On Men whose Loyalty and great Abilities
May bear e'm up, both to your ease and glory.
Sal.
And for the Government of
France, my Lord
Of
York, no Man so fitting as your self.
And pray my Lord of
Buckingham, shew reason
Why you prefer the Duke of
Somerset?
Qu.
Because 'tis the King's Will to have it so.
Glou.
Madam, the King is old enough himself
To speak his Mind; these are no Womens matters.
Qu.
If he be old enough, What needs your Grace
To be Protector of His Majesty?
Glou.
Madam, I am Protector of the Kingdom,
And at His pleasure will resign my Place.
Suff.
Resign it then, and leave your Insolence;
Since you were King, (As who is King but you?)
The Common-wealth has daily run to ruine.
The Dauphin seiz'd our Provinces in
France,
And you our Liberties and Honors here.
Car.
The Commons you have Rack't, the Clergies Bags
Are lank and lean with your Extortions.
Som.
You spend the Publick Treasure most profusely
On Sumptuous Buildings for your Luxury,
And costly Attire for your Wive's Vanity.
Elia.
So! so! my Dress becomes a Crime of State;
Shortly I do believe you will Arraign
My Necklaces and Bodkins of High Treason;
You cannot do it by the Law of
England,
[Page 14]
'Cause they have not their Equals here to try 'em by.
Buck.
We may extort the Law as oft your Husband
Has done, to punish beyond bounds of Law.
Qu.
And not content to waste the Publick Treasure,
Both on his own, and his Wive's foolish Pride.
He has, as the Suspition's very strong,
Made Sale of Offices and Towns in
France,
Which if 'twere prov'd, shou'd make him lose his Head.
Glo.
How am I baited beyond Human sufferance?
I will go out and coole, lest I be tempted
To act or speak any thing
Unworthy of my self, and of this Presence
Exit.
King.
My Lords, my Lords, I see, and grieve to see
Too much Ill-mindedness in all this Fury.
We oft by Lightning read in darkest Night,
And by your Passions I read all your Natures,
Though you at other times can keep e'm dark;
But I have Read e'm when you thought it not,
And I my self scarce minded what I did.
I, like the musing
Hermit in the Desert,
Feel the cold nipping blasts of the rough Wind,
And hear the Howles of Wolves, and Yelpes of Foxes,
Though I regard e'm not, nor mind at all
To shun e'm, or to fortifie against e'm.
Card.
I hope the King rankes not among the Wolves
One of the Shepherds of the Sacred Flock.
King.
I shou'd be glad I had no cause at all.
Suff.
I hope there's none of us has spoken any thing
But from deep sence of Loyalty and Honor
Against a Traytor to the King and Kingdom.
King.
I'le Judge so honourably of you all,
To think, you only eccho Publick Rumor;
And Ecchoes that miscall the Passenger
Injure him not, but they that set e'm talking.
Publick Report then wrongs the Duke, not you;
For if you know him false, Why don't you prove it?
Then you do ill, to do no more then Talke.
Qu.
Sir, subtle Men don't use to act their Wickedness
In Roades, in Markets, or on Steeple tops;
But closely hid; so hid, that oft the Devil
Who did employ e'm, scarce knows what they mean.
Elia.
Come, Sir, all this is spoken out of envy,
Low crawling envy, envy that is chok'd
With the great Dust the Train of my Robes make.
Whence came this beggarly Spirit into
England?
It never can be of the English growth.
[Page 15]
The late great Conquerors of Towns and Provinces
Fallen to envy a Lady's Cloaths? Oh! beggarly!
Some poor French Pedler brought this Spirit hither,
'Mongst the small Wares, they sell so dear to us.
Qu.
Oh! how she taunts me!—this is meant to me!
Aside.
I will take an occasion to affront her.
Lets fall her Fan.
Give me my Fan! — What, Minion, Can you not?
She gives the Duchess a Box o'th'
[...]re.
I cry you Mercy, Madam, Was it you?
Elia.
Yes, it was I, proud Daughter of a Beggar.
Strike me thy betters, many times thy betters,
Bating the Dignity thc King bestows on thee.
No mar'le thou look'st with envy on my Jewels;
Thy Father cou'd not give thee Gold enough
Only to Guild one of the Kings Prayer-Books.
The King was forc'd to give him two great Provinces,
That so it might not shamefully be said,
The Father of the Queen of
England starves.
Qu.
So! so!
King.
Fye Madam! Fye! this is too much:
Pray Rule your self, it was against her will.
Elia.
Against her will? no! Sir! 'twas with her will,
And shortly she will do as much to you.
But she shall never strike me unreveng'd—
Exit. Elia.
Buck.
I will follow her my Lord Cardinal,
And listen after the Duke, how he proceeds.
The Duchess Fury now will need no spurs,
She'l gallop fast enough to her destruction.
Card.
And let her gallop, and the Devil speed her—
Ex. Buck.
Enter Duke Humphry.
Glo.
My Lords, I've walk'd away from all that passion,
Which your false spiteful Accusations
Had kindled in my breast; and now I come
In a cold candid temper to advise you
To spare your selves, for me you cannot hurt.
Bring any Proofs of what you have accused me,
And I lye open to the Law as any Man,
At least I will do so; for if you think
My Office fences me, I'le throw it down.
But to the matters that we have in hand,
I say the Duke of
York's the fittest person
To be your Regent Sir in
France.
Suff.
Before Election's made, let me shew reason why
The Duke of
York is most unfit of any Man.
York.
[Page 16]
My Lord of
Suffolk, I will tell you why,
Because I scorn to be your Flatterer.
Next, if I be appointed for the place,
Such is my Lord of
Somersets ambition
And hate to me, that he will keep me here,
Without Discharge, Money, or Furniture,
Till
France be wonn; he had rather it were lost,
Than any one shou'd rule it but himself.
Last time I danc'd Attendance on his will,
Till
Paris was besieg'd, famish'd, and lost.
War.
That I can witness, and a blacker Treason
Was ne'r committed—
Suff.
Peace, my Lord of
Warwick!
Here's one shall silence you, and him you plead for.
Enter Armorer
and his Man Peter.
York.
How? Silence me?
Suff.
Yes; here is a Man accused
Of Treason, that relates to you my Lord.
York.
Does any one accuse me for a Traytor?
King.
What do you mean, my Lord? What Men are these?
Suff.
An't please your Majesty, this is the Man
That does Accuse his Master of High Treason.
His words were these; That
Richard Duke of
York
Was the true lawful heir to the Crown of
England:
And that your Majesty was an Usurper.
King.
Say Man, Were these thy words?
Arm.
An't please your Majesty,
I never said, nor thought any such matter:
Heaven is my witness I am falsely accus'd.
Pet.
By these ten bones, he spoke e'm to me one night, my Lord in the Garret, when we were scow'ring the Duke of York's Armour.
York.
Base Villain! I will have thee hang'd for this
Most Trayt'rous Speech.
I do beseech your Majesty,
Let him find all the rigour of the Law.
Ar.
Hang me, my Lord, if ever I spoke these words;
My Accuser is my Prentice, and I correcting him
For his Fault the other day, he Vow'd on's knees
He'd be reveng'd on me, I have good witness;
Therefore I beseech your Majesty, cast not away
An Honest Man, for a Rogues Accusation.
One that has been a Rogue, Sir, all his Life,
A most notorious Rogue, Sir, I beseech you.
King.
[Page 17]
Unckle, What shall we say to this in Law?
Glo.
If I may Judge, Sir, let the Duke of
Somerset
Be Regent o'r the French, because the Duke
Of
York lies under violent suspition.
And let these have a day appointed e'm
For single Combate, 'cause the Armourer
Has Witness of his Servants Threats and Malice.
This is the Law, and this is, Sir, my Sentence.
King.
Let it be so.
Som.
I humbly thank your Majesty.
Armo.
And I accept the Combat willingly.
Pet.
Alass! my Lord, I cannot fight! oh! pity me!
Oh Heaven have mercy on me! I shall never
Be able to strike a blow! — oh! Lord! my heart! Why the
Devil must I fight? Is this my Reward for Witnessing? I cannot fight.
Glo.
Sirrah! you must fight, or be hang'd.
King.
Away with e'm to Prison! till the Combat.
Come, my Lord Duke, I will dispatch you to
France.
All go out but the Cardinal.
Card.
I will not rest till I've the Blood of
Glocester:
He must be Lord Protector of the Kingdom,
And Lord it over me. He thinks he is
A better Man, 'cause he is a King's Son,
And I but Son of the Duke of
Lancaster.
He is the Son of
Henry the Fourth,
And I of
Henry's Father
John of
Gaunt.
But at my making there it seems did want
Some Holy Ceremonies, for want of which
I'm that the Rude Ill-manar'd Law calls Bastard.
And 'cause the Law has thrust me from Succession
To the great Temporal Glories of my Father,
They wrap'd me up in a Priest's Robe, and lay me
Out of the World; and in the way of Heaven.
They shou'd have drest poor
Henry in this Child's Coat,
And laid him in the Cradle of the Church,
And hum'd him fast asleep with Holy Stories;
His little Soul was fitter for those things.
Well, I will go to Heaven; but in my way
I at the Lord Protectorship will bayt,
Or I will lye abroad in stormes of Blood.
My Cosins themselves Legitimate may call;
Their Souls compar'd with mine are Bastards all.
Exit.
Elia.
Where are your Instruments?
Humes.
They are both ready,
Preparing their dire Charms and Exorcisms.
Elia.
Call e'm.
Enter Bullingbrook
and the Witch.
Humes.
Come in; this, Madam, is
Roger Bullingbrook,
A Man of wonderful and dreadful Art;
He has a Key to the Infernal deep,
And let's abroad what Spirit he will, and when:
And when he will he Chains him up again.
This Woman equals him in Power and Art,
Her Name is
Jordan.
Elia.
Come, begin your Charmes.
Bull.
Dare you be present, Madam?
Elia.
Dare the Devil
Come in my presence? for I dare meet him.
Bull.
Madam, you may, for Heaven fetters him,
And gives us Mortal Creatures Power to do so:
I gain'd my Art by Prayer, and profound Study;
Then nothing fear.
Elia.
I ne'r knew what fear was.
Bull.
Go, Mother
Jordan, get the Incense ready.
The Witch goes out.
Elia.
Well said, my Masters, come, begin, begin.
Bull.
Pray Patience, Madam, for we know our times.
Our time is in the Deep, and Silent Night;
The time when Cities oft are set on fire;
When R
[...]bberies and Murders are committed;
When Bandogs Howle, and Shreich-Owles Warn the Dying;
When Spir ts Walk, and Ghosts break up their Graves;
Then Devils come abroad to meet their Friends,
And that's the time best fit's our present Work:
But, Madam, sit, and fear not, whom we raise
We will make fast within a hallowed Verge.
Enter the Witch
with a Pan of Coales.
Bull.
Fling Incense in, then grovel on the Earth.
The Witch
fling's something on the Coales, and then the Conjurer
immediately falls▪ prostrate, makes a Circle with his Wand, then takes a Book and Reades.
Bull.
[Page 19]
Thou mighty Spirit, one of the chief Powers
And Potentates in the Infernal Kingdom,
Whose Empire extends wide in Night and Chaos,
Whose Provinces are Peopled thick with damn'd;
By that Authority he gives me o'r thee,
Who hurl'd thee down into these doleful Regions,
I chargee thee to obey my dread Commands,
And at my calling to appear—Appear!—
Asmath appear!
Bull.
Asmath—Appear!—appear!—
Witch.
Asmath—Appear!—appear!—
Thunder and Lightning, a Sprit
rises.
Spirit.
I'm here!—
Bull.
I charge thee by th' eternal being,
Whose name and power thou ever tremblest at:
To Answer that I Ask; for till thou speak
Thou shalt not stir from hence.
Spirit.
Ask what thou wilt—
But prethee do not keep me with thee long.
Bull.
First of the King: What shall become of him?
Spirit.
The Duke now lives, that
Henry shall Depose;
But him out-live, and dye a violent Death.
Bull.
Now say, What fate attends the Duke of
Suffolk?
Spirit.
By Water shall he meet his latest Breath.
Bull.
What shall befall the Duke of
Somerset?
Spirit.
Let him shun Castles;
Safer shall he be on the Sandy Plains,
Then where Castles mounted stand.
H'a done, for more I hardly can endure.
Bull.
Descend to darkness, and the Burning Lake.
Be gon! be gon!—
The Spirit descends with Thunder and Lightning.
Enter the Dukes of York
and Buckingham
with a Guard, and seize e'm.
Yo.
Lay hands upon these Traytors, and their Trash.
Elia.
Ha!
Yo.
Madam, yes, I think we have watch'd you narrowly;
The King and Kingdom are indebted to you
For this fine piece of Work: my Lord Protector,
Who, no doubt, set you a Work, will see you rewarded.
Elia.
What mighty Mischief have I done, my Lords?
Talked with a Devil? I every day converse
With worse then Devils with your selves, my Lords.
But I've it seems disturb'd the Peace of Hell;
What, you have Interest there? and many Friends!
[Page 20]
Forgive me, Lords, but yet you can disturb
The King and Kingdom's Peace; Is that no Crime?
Buck.
You have commited, Madam, then no crime
It seems—away with those, and Guard e'm close;
Keep e'm asunder; see that all their Trinkets
Be forth-coming—Madam, you must with us.
Guard lead out Elia. Witch
and Conjurer.
Yo
This was an excellent Plot, well chose t' build on.
Now pray my Lord let's see the Devil's Writ.
The Duke yet lives, that
Henry shall Depose;
Reads.
But him outlive, and dye a violent death.
Buck.
This is just
Aio te Aeacida Romanos vincere posse.
Yo.
The Devil still keeps to his old trade of Quibling.
Buck.
He is the Father of all Lyers and Quiblers.
Yo.
Well to the rest.
What Fate attends the Duke of
Suffolk?
Reads.
By Water shall he meet his latest breath.
What shall befall the Duke of
Somerset?
Let him shun Castles:
Safer shall he be on Sandy Plains,
Then where Castles mounted stand.
Fine stuff—The Devil I see is grown old and dull.
The King is now in Progress towards St.
Albans,
With him the Husband of this lowly Lady.
Whether go all these Cloudy Oracles
As fast as Horse can carry e'm —
A sorry Breakfast for my Lord Protector.
Buck.
Your Grace shall give me leave my Lord of
York
To be the Post.
Yo.
My Lord, at your own pleasure.
Within there ho!
Enter a Servant.
Intreat my Lords of
Salisbury and
Warwick
To take a short Collation at my House
This Afternoon, away: My Lord your Servant—
Ex.
Enter the King, Queen, Protector, Cardi
[...]al, Suffolk,
as from Hawking. Attendants, Somerset, Salisbury, Warwick.
Qu.
Believe me, Lords, for flying at the Brook
I ne'r had better sport in all my life.
Yet by your leave the Wind was very high.
King.
But what a Point, my Lord, your Falcon made?
And what a pitch she flew above the rest.
Suff.
[Page 21]
My Lord Protector's Hawks towre like their Master,
Above their Fellows.
Glo.
'Tis an humble Mind
That mounts, my Lord, no higher than a Bird.
Card.
I thought he soon wou'd be above the Clouds.
Gl.
Ay, my Lord Cardinal, how think you by that?
Wou'd not your Grace be glad to mount towards Heaven?
K.
The Treasury of Everlasting Joy.
Card.
Your Heaven is on Earth, your eyes and thoughts
Beat on a Crown, the Treasure of your Heart,
Pernitious, haughty, treacherous Protector!
Who smooth it thus both with the King and Kingdom.
Gl.
How, Cardinal!
Tantaeve animis Coelestibus irae! Church-Men so hot?
Uncle, for shame let your Robe hide your Malice.
Suff.
No Malice, my Lord, but Zeal, that which becomes
So good a Quarrel, with so bad a Lord.
Gl.
As who?
Suff.
Why, as your Self, my Lord Protector.
Gl.
My Lord of
Suffolk, England knows your Insolence.
Qu.
And your Ambition, my Lord of
Glocester.
K.
How, Madam! You a Stirrer of Debate?
These are the pleasant Sounds that follow me
Where-e'er I go: I'm an Inchanted Isle,
Surrounded with Eternal raging Storms,
Whoe'er approaches me, hazards a Wreck:
These Winds and Waves beat on my Lord Protector,
Because he is a Rock that Guards my Coast.
Card.
Good Heaven, what Arts has the Protector us'd
To charm you, Sir, that you can see all Loyalty
In him who means you hurt? and none in us,
Who shew our Loyal Zeal to guard you from him?
Were it but one of us that shewed this Zeal,
It might be thought an Envy to his Greatness,
And a design to get into his Office:
But since we all unite our Accusations,
We can have no design but Loyalty,
Since all of us cannot be Lord Protectors.
K.
But all may hope, though only one can be so.
But come, my Lords, do not I know you all?
I mind you often, when you think I do not.
You think I'm fast asleep to all this World,
I wou'd be so, but you disturb my rest,
And break my slumbers with your furious Broils,
And make me mind you whether I will or no.
Alas, I pity you, you wrong your selves
[Page 22]
Much more than me; and yet you trouble me,
Trouble my Counsels, trouble my Devotions,
Trouble my Sports; but, Sirs, I thank you for it,
For by these Tempests you stir up the Mud
That lodges in the bottom of this World,
And make all Pleasures here a Puddle to me,
And make me long for the pure Joys above,
To do me good, though you design me none.
Qu.
Here I am tir'd with everlasting Preaching.
Aside.
Card.
The King and I ought to change Offices,
Aside.
He is more fit to be a Priest than I,
And I'm more fit to be a King than he:
Thus Crowns and Mitres are at random thrown,
And very seldom light on Heads that fit 'em.
Enter one crying a Miracle.
Gl.
What means this noise?
One.
A Miracle! A Miracle!
Car.
What Miracle? An Usurer made charitable?
A Lawyer honest, or a Courtier faithful,
A Woman constant, or a Souldier godly?
Suff.
Come to the King, and tell him, Friend, what Miracle.
One.
Forsooth a Blind Man at St.
Albans Shrine,
Within this half hour has receiv'd his sight,
A Man that ne'er saw in his life before.
Suff.
That's a strange Miracle indeed, my Friend.
K.
Th' Eternal Goodness, and Omnipotence,
Be prais'd, for all thy wondrous Works to Men;
He has not only given this poor man sight,
But by this miracle given light to truth.
Card.
I will be hang'd, if this be not some damn'd cheat
Aside.
Plaid by the Fryars: I who wait at the Altar,
Know well what tricks are plaid behind the Altar,
Yet I must countenance it with a grave look,
But 'tis strange truth that stands in need of lyes.
Well, Heaven be prais'd, Sir, for this miracle;
To the K.
Here come the Fryars and Townsmen on Procession,
To present your Majesty with the man.
Enter Abbot, Fryars, Mayor
of St. Albans,
and his Brethren, bearing the Man in a Chair, his Wife with him.
Gl.
Stand by, my Masters, bring him near the King,
It is his Majesties pleasure to talk with him.
K.
Good Fellow, tell us all the circumstances,
[Page 23]
That all of us may glorifie Heaven for thee.
Wert thou born blind?
Simp.
Born blind, an't please your Grace.
Wife.
I indeed was he forsooth.
Suff.
What Woman's this?
Wife.
His Wife, an't like your Worship.
Gl.
If thou hadst been his Mother, thou cou'dst better
Have told.
Suff.
What thinks your Majesty of this?
To the Qu.
Qu.
Some trick o' the Fryars to cheat the silly people:
Aside.
They are all a pack o' Rogues.
Suff.
Oh! damn'd Rogues all.
Aside.
K.
Where wert thou born?
Simp.
At
Berwick, an't please your Grace.
Suff.
So far in the North, and come hither for Cure?
What, was there ne'er a Northern Saint to help thee?
No Saint in
Scotland?
Simp.
Not that I e'er heard of:
I never heard of any Saint in
Scotland,
An't like your Worship.
Suff.
Truly nor I neither.
Qu.
There is a Saint in
Wales, Saint
Winifrid,
Many miles nearer
Berwick than Saint
Albans,
Why didst not go to her? She's a good Saint,
And does abundance of good Offices.
Simp.
She is so, an't please you forsooth Madam,
I've heard of her, but she is so full of business,
Does so many Cures for English, Welsh, and Irish,
That I was loath to trouble the good Lady:
Besides, I was afraid she wou'd not be
At leisure a great while to look to me,
And I did long to get a little sight forsooth.
K.
Poor Soul, Heaven's goodness has been great to thee,
Heaven has open'd a new gate of comforts to thee,
Shewed thee the richest brightest half of time,
Turn'd o'er the guilded leaves of Natures Book,
Where thou shalt read things thou cou'dst ne'er imagine,
Coyn all this golden time in praise and prayer,
And thou shalt find too at this gate of sight,
Armies of new temptations enter in,
Therefore stand more than ever upon thy Watch.
Card.
How this tale sinks into the King's soft Soul!
Aside.
A Cannon cou'd not shoot it into mine;
Yet I must face this fable with my Scarlet,
To make it pass for the Honour of the Church.
Upon such Legs as these the poor Church halts,
[Page 24]
Though we conceive it's halting with our Robes.
Qu.
Tell me, good Fellow, cam'st thou here by chance,
Or out of pure Devotion to this Shrine?
Simp.
Indeed forsooth out of most pure Devotion,
Being call'd I'm confident a hundred times,
And oftner in my sleep by good Saint
Albans.
Suff.
How didst thou know it was Saint
Albans call'd thee?
Simp.
He said he was Saint
Albans, if it please you.
Suff.
He told thee in thy sleep so?
Simp.
Yes, an't please you.
Suff.
What said Saint
Albans?
Simp.
He said,
Saunder, an't please your Worship,
Come, offer at my Shrine, and I will help thee:
Come,
Saunder, come.
Wife.
Indeed 'tis true forsooth,
For many a time and oft my self have heard
A voice to call him so.
Suff.
What in thy sleep?
Wife.
No forsooth, waking, as I'm now forsooth.
Suff.
Friend, thou wert much in good Saint
Albans favour.
Simp.
I truly, I am much beholding to him.
Card.
What, art thou lame?
Simp.
Yes, Heaven help me, Sir.
Suff.
How cam'st thou so?
Simp.
By a fall from a Tree.
Wife.
Yes, he fell down from a high Plum tree, Master.
Gl.
Wert thou born blind, and yet wouldst climb a tree?
Simp.
Never but once, and then my Wife desired me
To get some Damsons for her, and I cou'd not
Deny her any thing, I lov'd her dearly, she's a good Wife forsooth.
Card.
Alas, good Couple.
Gl.
This is a Rogue, and I'll discover him:
Aside.
Let me see thine eyes:— wink now; now open 'em:
In my opinion yet thou seest not well.
Simp.
Yes, Master, clear as day, I thank St.
Albans.
Gl.
Sayst thou me so? What colour is that Gown?
Simp.
Red, Master, Red as Blood.
Gl.
Why, that's well said.
What colour is my Hat?
Simp.
Black, Black forsooth, Coal-black as Jet forsooth.
K.
Why, then thou know'st what colour Jet is of?
Suff.
And yet he ne'er saw Jet in all his life.
Gl.
But Gowns and Hats before this day good store.
Wife.
Never before this day in all his life.
Gl.
VVhat's my Name, Sirrah?
Simp.
Master, I know not.
Gl.
VVhat is his Name?
Simp.
[Page 25]
Indeed I know not, Master.
Glo.
No?
Simp.
No indeed.
Glo.
Nor his?
Simp.
No truly Master.
Glo
What's thy own Name? Can'st thou tell that?
Simp.
My Name is
Saunder Sympcox, if it please you Master.
Glo.
Then
Saunder Sympcox, you are a Cheating Rogue.
If you had be
[...]n born blind, you might as well
Have known our Names, as all the Names of Colours.
Sight may distinguish Colours, but not Name 'em.
St.
Albans here, my Lords, has done a Miracle;
What if I do one, and restore this Cripple
To his Legs again?
Simp.
Oh! Master! that you cou'd.
Suff.
How came St.
Albans did not cure thy Lameness
As well as Blindness?
Simp.
Nay, I know not, Master.
Suff.
Has he not Skill in Legs as well as eyes?
Simp.
Yes, surely, Master, they are all one to him.
Suff.
What he forgot e'm then?
Simp.
I know not, Master;
If it had pleas'd him to have Cur'd my Legs,
I shou'd ha' been most mightily behold to him.
Glo.
I'le ease him of that trouble, I will Cure thee.
Simpl.
Ah, Master, that you cou'd.
Glo.
I'le do't I say:
Have you no Beadles Mr. Mayor? and things call'd Whips?
Mayor.
Here is the Beadle, please your Grace.
Glo.
I see a Stool there, bring it hither quickly.
Now, Sirrah, if you mean to save your self
From Whipping, leap o'r this Stool and run away.
Simp.
Alass! Master, I am not able to stand alone;
You go about to Torture me in vain.
Glo.
Well, Sirrah, I must have you find your Legs:
Whip him till he leap o'r that same Stool.
Simp.
Master, What shall I do? I cannot stand.
Glo.
Leap Sirrah! Leap!
Simp.
Oh! oh!—
Beadle
Whips him, he leaps over the Stool, and runs away, and they cry a Miracle, follow.
King.
Do'st thou behold thir Heaven? and bear thus long?
Glo.
Bring back the Rogue, and take this Drabbe away.
Wife.
Alass! we did it for pure need, forsooth.
Glo.
Let e'm be Whipt through every Market Town,
Till they come to
Berwick, from whence they came.
Car.
[Page 26]
Heark you, Are not you a Company of Damn'd Fools
To employ such a Silly Rogue as this?
Softly to a Fryer.
That has shewn all your Cheats to the whole World?
Fry.
My Lord, they were known to all Wise Men before▪
And such a Fool will serve to Couzen Fools:
And Fools are those that we must hope to stand by.
Exit.
Enter Buckingham.
King.
What Tidings brings my Lord of
Buckingham?
Buc.
Such as my heart does temble to relate:
My Lord Protector's Wife has practis'd horridly,
And dangerously against your Majesties Life—
H'as dealt with Hellish Conjurers and Witches
To raise up wicked Spirits from under Ground
To acquaint her with your destiny, and Councel her
How she may ayd your Fate, and hasten it.
She's enquir'd too of the Infernal Oracle
The Fates of several of your Majesties Council;
We apprehended e'm all in the Fact.
Car.
Ha! Is she fallen into our Trap? that's well! —
Aside.
And she shall soon pluck her Duke
Humphrey after.
My Lord Protector, your good Lady finding
She governs you, thinks she can rule the Devil,
And have th'infernal Powers at her Command.
Heaven be Prais'd,
England's Protected well.
Your Grace is Lord Protector of the Kingdom,
Your Wife rules you, the Devil is her Protector,
And so the Devil is
England's Lord Protector;
I hope we shall displace his Devilship.
Glo.
And put a worse Devil in if you succeed.
But these good Churchmen are the heavenly comforts
You give your Kinsman in affliction.
You may insult, for sorrow has so vanquisht me,
The basest Groom may trample on me now.
King.
What horrid things are practis'd in this World?
How vile ones heap confusion on their heads?
Qu
My Lord, my Lord, you see your nest is tainted;
Look that your self be faultless you had best.
Glo.
Madam, I will not answer for a Woman:
For my own self, to heaven I appeal,
Who knowes how I have lov'd my King and Country.
And for my Wife, I know not how it stands,
Sorry I am to hear what I have heard.
Noble she is, but if she have forgot
Honor and Vertue, I will forget her,
[Page 27]
And banish her my Bed, and my Acquaintance;
And give her up to the just punishment
Which
[...]he deserves for so much wickedness,
And so dishonouring my honest Name.
King.
I will to
London with what haste I can,
To look into this business thoroughly,
And call these foul offenders to their Answers.
Ex. Om. prae. Suff.
and the Qu.
Qu.
My dear, dear
Suffolk, how thou every moment
Heap'st new delights on me? when thou didst get for me
The
English Crown, thou didst not please me more,
Then now in getting me revenge on
Elianor.
Treading on her, methinks I walk in Triumph
To a second and more pleasing Coronation.
Suff.
I told you, Madam, I had snares for her.
You were impatient and cou'd not stay
Till things cou'd ripen.
Qu.
Oh! thou art my Sun:
My joyes and glories ripen, grow and flourish
Under thy beautiful and glorious beams.
Come lets go see Dame
Elianor in her shame,
The pleasing'st sight in the whole World, next thee.
Suff.
Next sight I'le shew you, shall be
Gloster's fall;
The good fond Husband will be loth to stay
Behind his Wife, though she goes to destruction.
Qu.
Sure thou wert made o' purpose for my Love;
Had heaven bid me ask for some great Merit,
A Gift that might have shewed bounty divine,
I wou'd have said, Let
Suffolk heaven be mine.—
Ex.
ACT III.
Enter York, Salisbury,
and Warwick.
The SCENE the Duke of York's House, long Scrowles lying on a Table.
York.
NOw my good Lords of
Salisbury and
Warwick,
You have perus'd my Title to the Crown,
I pray deliver me both your opinions.
War.
My Lord, 'tis very plain, the Right is yours;
King
Henry claimes the Crown from
John of
Gaunt,
[Page 28]
Fourth Son of
Edward the Third; Your Grace claims it
From
Lyonell Duke of
Clarence the Third Son:
Till
Lyonell's Issue fails, his shou'd not Reign.
It failes not yet, but flourishes in you,
[...]nd in your Sons, fair Branches of your Stock.
My Lord of
Salisbury kneel we together,
And in this private Room be we the first
That shall Salute our Lawful Soveraign,
With the honor of his Birth-right to the Crown.
Both.
Long live our Sovereign,
Richard King of
England.
York.
My Lords, I give you both my hearty thanks;
But I am not your King till I be Crown'd,
And my Sword slayn'd in the heart blood of all
The House of
Lancaster; and that's not suddenly,
Nor very easily to be perform'd:
We must use Counsel, Secresy, and Courage:
Do you as I do in these dangerous days,
Wink at the Duke of
Suffolk's Insolence;
At
Beauford's Pride; at
Somerset's Ambition;
At
Buckingham, and all the Crew of e'm,
Till they have snar'd the good and wise Duke
Humphry,
Whose Vertues are so many Guardian Angels
Both to the King and Kingdom; his destruction
These ill Men seek, and they in seeking that
Shall find their own, if I can Prophesie.
Sal.
My Lord, let us break off, we know your Mind.
War.
There's something great within my breast that tells me,
The Day is coming, when the Earl of
Warwick
Shall make the Duke of
York the King of
England.
Yo.
And I shall live to make the Earl of
Warwick
The greatest Man in
England but the King —
Exit.
The SCENE the Court.
Enter King
and Queen,
Duke of Suffolk,
Duke of Glocester, Cardinal, Elianor
a Prisoner.
King.
Madam, stand forth, and hear your Sentence from me:
In sight of heaven and me your guilt is great;
A Crime, to which heavens Book adjudges Death:
Your Fellow Criminals shall suffer Death;
[...]nd 'tis notorious false reasoning
[...]ou shou'd be spar'd, because you are great and Noble;
he World is us'd to such false Reasonings,
[...]nd that's the cause there is so little Truth in it.
[Page 29]
But I observe but few of the World's Customs,
Nor will I now be lead away in this.
Then hear my Sentence; since to your great Spirit
There is no pain like shame; I Sentence you
To bear the tort'ring shame of open Pennance:
And since to live depos'd of all your Honors
In some remote sad desolate obscurity,
Is to you pain like burying alive,
I Sentence you to spend your days in Banishment
With Sir
John Stanley in the Isle of
Man.
Elia.
Welcome my Banishment; for I am sure
My doleful days will not be many there.
Glo.
Oh Wife! What hast thou brought upon thy self?
Did not I timely warn thee of Ambition;
And say, one day 'twou'd do some dismal deed?
The King has past a righteous Sentence on thee;
And none have reason to complain but I,
Who innocently suffer in thy shame:
My honor shares in all thy sad reproach,
And my love suffers in thy Banishment,
That I am punish'd equally with thee,
Though I am innocent; and yet the King
Does me no wrong at all: no
Elianor,
I've reason to complain of none but thee,
Who woud'st not take the Counsels that I gave thee,
Out of dear Love to thee.
Elia.
I see my folly.
Glo.
Now hast thou brought dishonor on my age,
And shame and grief will sink me to my Grave.
Qu.
My Lord, my Lord, you can be sensible
Of your Wive's shame; but not of the dishonor
The King and I both suffer'd by her Insolence.
You weep, 'cause she must suffer an hou
[...]s Pennance;
But she has made me suffer horrid Pennance
E'er since I was her Queen, both to my own,
And the King's shame and grief, that you ne'r wept for.
She must walk barefoot now upon the stones:
Time was, she trod on me, I was her way;
Which I endur'd to the King's shame and mine:
And you for that had very small regret.
Gl.
Madam, if for her Crimes, her too great Crimes,
The punishment the King has doom'd her
[...]o
Be not enough, pray Sentence her to more:
But let her know an end of punishment.
But if the Scale be full enough already,
[Page 30]
As the just King, who poiz'd it well, conceives;
Do not be heaping till it grows injustice.
Qu.
My Lord, she deserves more then she shall suffer;
Only for the intolerable rudeness
Wherewith she treated me her Queen to day;
To call me to my Face a Beggars Daughter?
Suppose I were that miserable Beggar,
Is it well done to tread on Poverty?
But when by Birth heaven made me a great Princess,
And the King's Love made me a great Queen, her Queen▪
For her to treat me so? Was that well done?
Suff.
Yes, Madam, 'twas well done for his Designs
Of making her your Queen, your Majesty her subject:
That they had such Designs, her present Crimes
Are a sufficient proofe; and they did well
To bring you to subjection by degrees.
Car.
All the reflection I shall make is this;
He who was Govern'd by so ill a Woman,
Is very unfit to be the Kingdoms Governor;
She was his Counsellor, the Devil hers;
Conjecture then what his Designs must be.
Glo.
Lord Cardinal, I am sure of your good Word;
I see what all of you thirst for, my ruine.
I had long since remov'd out of your way,
If duty to my King had not detain'd me:
I was afraid to trust him in your hands,
But I perceive my stay occasions him
Perpetual trouble; and the heavenly power
Has an especial eye to Sacred Kings.
To his Protection then I'le leave the King,
If the King will permit me, and retire
To bear the heavy burden of my griefs.
Qu.
Pray do, my Lord, we'l take you at your word.
I see no reason, why a King of years
Shou'd be Protected like a little Child:
Resign your Staffe, and give the King his Kingdom,
The King by heaven's help may Govern it.
King.
Do, do my Lord, since they'l all have it so,
I shall not want a Counsel, or Protection,
For heaven is my hope, my stay, my guide.
And go in peace, less powerful, less great;
No less belov'd, by me, and all good Men.
[Page 31]
Enter York.
Glo.
Then here, most Sacred Sovereign, is my Staffe;
As willingly do I resign it to you,
As e're your glorious Father made it mine.
As willingly I lay it at your feet,
As others wou'd ambitiously receive it▪
Farewell, good King, may you, when I am dead,
Never have cause to shed one tear for me.
When is your Royal Pleasure that my Wife
Shall do her Pennance?
King.
Now, immediately.
Glo.
Come,
Elianor, let us support our Sorrows;
Sorrow is natural to this Vale of Tears.
My fall will rather pleasure to me bring,
If it shall cause no sorrow to the King.
Exit Glocester, Elianor
with a Guard.
King
Oh Lords, you have made me part with a good Man!
I wish I may never have need of him.
York.
How? Has the Duke resign'd the Government?
Qu.
Yes;
Henry now is King; and I am Queen;
And
Humphry Duke of
Glocester scarce himself:
Two of his stately Branches are lopt from him;
His Wife is Banish'd, and his Staffe resign'd,
And he will shortly wither with the Mayme.
Yo.
As I wou'd wish: How have these haughty Lords
asid
[...]
Most subtilly wrought their own destruction?
For now the King lies open to my Sword;
But they shall perish with him for their Villanies.
A Shout: Enter Buckingham.
King.
Now! What's the News?
Buck.
May it please your Majesty,
The Combate 'tween the
Armourer and his
Man,
The Appellant, and Defendant has been fought,
According as your Majesty appointed:
Truth has prevail'd; the Guilty
Armourer,
Worsted by his Servant, has confest the Treason.
King.
Where is the Fellow?
Buc.
They are both without.
Come in—
King.
What, Fellow, did you speak the words?
Arm.
Yes, please your Majesty.
King.
Yet you deny'd 'em.
Ar.
I was unwilling to be hang'd an't please you.
King.
But not unwilling to destroy thy Soul,
By spilling of an innocent Fellows blood,
As thou hast done, if right had not prevail'd.
Buck.
Sir, it was right indeed that did prevail;
I never saw poor Fellow so afraid,
As the
Armorer's Servant was in all my life,
And yet he beate his Master by his Innocence.
Arm.
It was my Conscience beate me, and not he;
If my own Conscience had not fought against me,
I cou'd have beaten twenty such as he.
Pet.
I do not know that, for though I was afraid
E're I came to it, now I know what it is,
I do not care if I have t'other bout.
King.
There's mischief in this Business, I discern it;
Aside.
The Common People have been tamper'd with,
To try how they will like a change of Princes;
And to make way for it, my right is question'd,
And my good Lord Protector sent away from me.
Oh! heaven, if I be useful to my People,
Preserve me, for their sakes, from wicked Men;
If I be not, extend thy Providence
To them, and let what will become of me.
— Go lead that Traytor to the Death he merits,
Thou honest man, whose truth and innocence
Heaven has reveal'd, by me shall be rewarded.
Exit Omnes prae. Suffolk
and the Queen.
Qu.
Now it goes excellently well indeed!
This haughty Woman tumbled in the dirt,
So far beneath my feet I cannot tread upon her.
Duke
Humphrey's charming Rod broken in pieces;
Wherewith he kept, as in a Conjurers Circle,
The King and Kingdom both out of our reach.
Suff.
Did not I promise you there shou'd be nothing
In
England, Madam, that your Soul cou'd wish for
I'd not make yours?
Qu.
And thou hast kept thy Word.
Suff.
I think I promis'd you, that wonderful,
That ravishing moment, when I first beheld you,
When Fortune prodigally propitious to me,
[Page 33]
With Lawrels crown'd my Sword, my Arms with Beauty.
Flung Captive in my Arms such wondrous Beauty,
That when I saw it, I cry'd out amaz'd,
Our thundring Canons sure, has tore the Heavens,
And through the Chrystal breach, an Angel's dropt.
Qu.
And I, when first I saw brave
Suffolk shining
In Armour Victory, but most of all
In his own Charms! Oh! said I to my self,
I'le wonder now no more the English Conquerors,
They are Angels all, or Angels fight for 'em.
Suff.
I most unworthy to support so bright
A Heaven of Beauty, did retire to gaze,
Whilst all my Soul came crowding to my eyes,
And thrusted till it almost crackt the Windows;
Then like a laden Thief, that stole more Wealth
Than he cou'd spend in all his Life, runs back
And lock't it up secure in every Room.
Qu.
In vain is this rich guilding of that hour,
Which only was the portal of our Loves.
Since we are enter'd, and possess the Palace,
How I then wonder'd, and how since I lov'd,
Let all the Gardens, Groves, and happy Rooms,
That have been aiding to our Pleasures, tell.
So full of Life and Soul our Joys have been,
We have almost scatter'd Life to all things round us.
A thousand times I've thought the wanton Pictures,
Have striven to leap out of their Golden Frames
That held 'em Captive, and come share with us.
A thousand times, methought, I've seen their Mouths
Striving to break the painted shadows Bonds,
That held 'em bound in everlasting silence,
And burst into a Laughter, and a Rapture.
Suff.
I never minded Pictures, when a Substance
Of so much Beauty lay in my embraces;
Nor
Venus's Picture, no nor
Venus's self,
Cou'd have extracted a regard from me.
Qu.
How often has our Love in Groves and Gardens
Fill'd every Creature near us with such Spirit,
That they have danc'd to Death as they were stung;
The Birds have chirp'd their little souls away,
The Turtles bill'd till they have no breath;
The Winds have sported wantonly around us,
Till they have swoun'd away into a Calm.
Suff.
Yet all this Love and Beauty which cou'd make
The sapless trunk of a dead Tree to bud,
Can put no warmth into the frozen King.
Qu.
[Page 34]
Oh! to my Arms! He comes like depth of Winter,
With Cheeks all moist with Penitential Tears,
And Lips so cold, each kiss gives me an Ague.
Suff.
Alas! How shou'd you expect them otherwise?
He comes from kissing Brazen Images,
And Bones, and Sculs of Saints, that were more cold
When they were living, than you'l be when dead.
Qu.
Well, next to Love, Revenge has sweetest taste,
Let us go take some private stand, and see
Dame
Elianor in her ridiculous Pomp
Walking the Streets, in her White Garment barefoot,
Holding a burning Torch to light her shame;
A gaping Crowd, and throng of hooting Boys.
Following her Train, and the Belconies fill'd
With laughing Ladies, whom she onc'd contemn'd.
A shout.
Heark! they are coming, let's not loose the Pleasure.
Exit.
The SCENE a Street.
Enter Duke Humphry,
and his Men in Mourning Cloaks.
Gl.
Oh! What a Change is here in my condition?
Fallen from the highest Pinacle of Glory,
Down to the lowest depth of Shame and Ruine.
From being Ruler of the King and Kingdom,
To be the Scorn and Sport of common Fellows.
Oh!
Elianor! I've wrong'd my self and thee
By doting on thee, beyond bounds of Reason.
Thy Errors did appear to me all Excellencies.
But thou poor
Nell, hast punishment enough,
I'le not heap more on thee by my Complaints.
Alas! how will thy tender Feet endure
To kiss the rugged face of cutting Flints?
How hardly will thy noble Spirit brook
The abject People gazing on thy Face,
With scornful looks deriding thy Disgrace,
Who lately followed thy proud shining Chariot;
And did not care what dirt the Wheels flung on 'em,
Might they be blest out with a look from thee.
A shout.
But soft! I think she come's! and I'le prepare
My Tear-stain'd Eyes, to see her Miseries.
Serv.
So, please your Grace, we'll force her from the Sheriff.
Gl.
No, stir not for your lives, she shall submit
To what the King was pleas'd t' inflict upon her.
El.
Come you, my Lord, to see my open shame?
Can you endure it? If you have no sense
Of my great Sufferings, pity your self,
For you in seeing my shame do Penance with me.
See how the gaping Multitude all point
And nod their Heads, and throw their Eyes on you.
Ah! my Lord! hide you from their odious looks,
And shut up in your Closet, mourn my shame,
And curse mine Enemies, both mine and yours.
Gl.
Be patient gentle
Nell, forget this grief.
El.
First teach me to forget my self and you;
For whilst I think I am your Wife, and you
A Prince, and Lord Protector of the Kingdom,
Methinks this shou'd not be my Garb, and Pomp,
I shou'd not thus be lead along the Streets
Wrapt up in shame, with Papers on my Back,
And followed by a Rabble, that rejoyce
To see my Tears, and hear my deep-fetch'd Groans.
The pitiless Flints gash deep my tender Feet,
And when I start, the envious People laugh,
And bid me be advised how I tread.
Gl.
What if they do, my Love? What matter is it?
They do but shew their low degenerate natures.
Wert thou condemn'd into a Wilderness,
Would'st thou expect to have the Tygers court thee,
The Lions flatter thee, wild Beasts adore thee;
These Crowds are little better, little gentler.
El.
Oh! I cannot endure this heavy shame,
My Soul boyls under it, and my Heart breaks.
I never will behold the Sun again;
Nor face of Humane Creature! Dark obscurity,
Where never eye of Man, nor voice of Fear
Can penetrate, shall cover me for ever,
Out of the sight and memory of the World,
And bury all the World too out of mind.
Nay, if Love will not be too hard for me,
I will not let thee come into my mind.
For, oh! what deadly sorrow will it breed,
To think I am the Duke of
Glocester's Wife.
And he a Prince and Governour of
England:
Yet so he Rul'd, and such a Prince he was,
As he stood by, whilst his forlorn Duchess
[Page 36]
Was made a Wonder and a Pointing-stock
To every idle rascal follower.
Gl.
What wou'dst thou have me do?
El.
Nay, nothing, nothing,
Be mild, and tame, and blush not at my shame.
Be stirr'd at nothing, 'till the Ax of Death
Fall on thy self, as shortly sure it will.
For
Suffolk, he that can do all in all
With that vile Woman, who abhors us all;
And
York, and impious
Beauford, that false Priest,
Have all laid Snares, which thou shalt never scape.
But fear not thou, until thy Foot be snar'd,
Nor ever seek prevention of thy Enemies,
Till thou art fallen lower than I am now.
Gl.
Ah!
Nell, forbear, for now thou aim'st awry,
I must offend before I can be hurt;
And had I twenty times so many Enemies,
And each of e'm had twenty times their power,
Not all of e'm cou'd work me any damage
So long as I am Loyal, True, and Faultless:
But thou wou'd'st have me rescue thee from shame;
I cannot do it, from these Officers
If I shou'd force thee, I can ne're redeem thee
From th' everlasting Scandal that will follow thee.
Thy greatest help is quiet, then sweet
Nell;
I pray thee sort thy heart with patience.
Enter a Herald.
Her.
I summon your Grace to his Majesties Parliament
Holden at
Bury, the first of this next Month.
Gl.
And my consent ne're ask'd herein before?
This is close dealing. Well, I will be there.
Ex. Herald.
El.
Lo you my Lord! What think you now?
Gl.
I think
My Love as thou dost, Mischief is design'd me.
But if my Innocence will not protect me,
Guilt shall not do it; I will keep my Loyalty
Whilst I can keep my Life.
El.
Oh! that I fear
Will not be long.
Gl.
Well, Heaven's will be done.
Love, I must take my leave; and Master Sheriff,
Let not her Penance exceed the King's Commission.
Sher.
An't please your Grace, here my Commission stay's:
And Sir
John Stanly is appointed now,
To take her with him to the Isle of
Man.
Stanly.
[Page 37]
So am I given in charge, an't please your Grace.
Gl.
Pray use her well, the World may smile again,
And I may live to return any Kindness
You do to her; and so dear Love farewel.
El.
Oh! stay! and do not make our farewel short,
For this is the last time I e're shall see thee.
Gl.
Do not say so, my Love.
El.
I know it is.
Thy Enemies are powerful, and many,
And thy own Innocence will betray thee to e'm.
Gl.
I hope not so, I doubt not but to scape
From all their Snares; and if I do, I'le come
And find thee out in thy poor barren Island,
There we'l be all the World to one another.
In that most desolate mournful abode
We will be happier, then e're we were
In the high stately building of our Greatness,
Whose walls were Vanity, foundations Rottenness.
Oh! I can speak no more to thee for Tears.
Once more farewel.
—Exit.
El.
All comfort go with thee,
For none abides with me, my Joy is death,
Death, at whose name I oft have been afraid,
Because I wish't this World's eternity;
But now I wish the World were at an end.
Stanly, I prethy go, and take me hence,
I care not whether, for I beg no favour.
I care not what becomes of wretched me,
My Honour is for ever sunk in shame,
And my Lord lost among his Enemies;
For I am sure they'l murder him amongst e'm,
And I shall never never see him more.
Prethee conveigh me where thou art commanded.
Stan.
Why, Madam, that is to the Isle of
Man,
There to be us'd according to your State.
El.
According to my State? How's that? Reproachfully?
For now my State is vilest Infamy.
Stan.
Like to a Duchess, and Duke
Humphry's Lady,
According to that state you shall be us'd.
El.
Sheriff, farewel, I wish no harm to thee,
Though thou hast been conductor of my shame.
Sher.
It is my Office, Madam pardon me.
El.
I, I, farewel, thy Office is discharg'd.
Come,
Stanly, let us go.
Stan.
Your Penance done;
Now, Madam, if you please, throw off your sheet▪
El.
[Page 38]
My shame will not be thrown off with my sheet.
No, it will hang upon my richest Robes.
All Sin will meet dishonour, first or last,
I hope my Crown's to come, and my shame past.
Exit.
ACT IV.
Enter King, Queen, Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buckingham.
King.
I Admire my Lord of
Glocester is not come,
'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost Man,
What e're occasion keeps him from us now.
Queen.
Do you not see his alter'd Countenance?
With what a Majesty he bears himself?
How proud, how peremptory, how unlike himself?
We know the time when he was mi
[...]d and affable,
And if we did but glance a far-off look,
Immediately he was upon his Knee,
That all the Court admir'd his great humility.
But now he frowns, and passes stifly by,
Scorning to shew us any regard at all.
Suff.
Madam, most true, Has not the King observ'd
This carriage in him?
Qu.
He will see no ill in him.
Come, Sir, he is a Man exceeding dangerous,
He is no inconsiderable Person.
First, he is next the Crown, if you shou'd fall
He is the next that Mounts; that 'tis ill policy
To trust him with your Royal Person and Councels,
Whose rancorous mind is now prepar'd for mischief,
And whose advantage is the King's destruction,
Who else will gain by it? We shall be sad loosers;
But he will compass all his heart can wish,
Your Kingdoms, and revenge upon his Enemies.
Card.
The two great Idols of a proud mans heart.
Suff.
Oh! his Soul swell's with rancour as 'twere poyson'd,
He foams with Gall, and his Eyes flash with fury.
I saw him th'other day pass by the King,
And Queen, as they were walking in the Garden.
He measur'd oft the King from Head to Foot
With a disdainful eye, as who shou'd say,
Henry, Thou art too little for thy Throne,
Then wou'd he ca
[...] a down-look on the King,
[Page 39]
And press him with his eye to the Earth, and look on him
As if he lay under his Feet already,
Nay, under th' Earth; and then he stampt, and pointed
Towards
Paul's, where his Wife lately did Penance,
As who shou'd say, Oh!
Henry, very shortly
My Wife shall tread on thy cold Monument
With as much pride, as thou hast made her tread
With her bare feet, you cutting Flints with shame.
In short, all his demeanour is of late
So raging, haughty, frantique and intolerable,
That I believe the Devil which his Wife
Conjur'd from Hell, is gotten into his Breast.
Card.
He was a great frequenter of the Chappel,
No Man so constant, no Man so devout,
The lowest bower to the Altar there,
The highest lifter up of eyes to Heaven,
The humblest kneeler on the Marble Floor.
But now, as if he had gain'd all the Heaven,
He aim'd at by devotion, the Kingdom;
He Knees no more lick up the Chappel Dust
To blind the People's eyes, they are blind enough
He takes no more the Chappel in his way,
He thinks he is at his journeys end, the Throne.
Qu.
That's the next thing, Sir, makes him dangerous:
He has, by his Hypocrisie and Flattery,
So gull'd the credulous Commons of their hearts,
They'l venture Hanging at any time to Crown him,
And think it Martyrdom to die for him.
King.
These things are very bad, if they be true.
Suff.
True, Sir? His Wive's crime prove e'm; what do you think
Did instigate that
Bedlam brainsick Woman
To her foul fault▪ but his foul subornation?
Or if he were not privy to her wickedness,
At least high vaunts of his Succession.
And letting fall some words to please her pride,
To shew what high designs he had near Birth,
Made the proud frantique Woman run immediately.
To fetch a cursed Midwife out of Hell.
King.
Indeed, that was a very wicked Fact.
Suff.
Oh! Sir, the Duke of
Glocester is a Man
Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.
Card.
Sir, he appears to you to be a Man
Of great Humanity, Mildness, and Gentleness,
There's not a greater Tyrant upon Earth.
If any small Offences had at any time
Tript up the heels of any of his Enemies,
[Page 40]
And thrown e'm in his power, he tortur'd e'm
Beyond all bounds either of Law or Manhood.
He has torn their Bodies so by horrid Deaths,
As if to put affronts upon that peaceful
Christianity which forbids all Revenge,
He'd put a cheat upon the Resurrection,
And tear that Article out of our Creed.
King.
Can this be true? How chance I never heard of it?
Card.
Who ever durst acquaint you this before?
Suff.
Who ever had your Ear but he till now?
King.
The meanest poorest Subject in my Kingdom
Had it, and shall, as much as he or any Man.
Card.
Ay! you like Heaven, Sir, gave access to all,
But he was that eternal Persecution,
All suffer'd that devoutly wou'd approach you.
King.
If this this be true, what a vile thing is Man?
Yo.
Sir, his insatiable Avarice
Makes two great Crowns sit loosely on your Head.
He squeez'd the
English Purses till Blood followed,
Upon pretence to pay your Troops in
France,
So almost tore this Kingdom from its Loyalty,
Then by not sending any of that Money;
He starv'd your Troops, and almost lost you
France.
Buck.
Oh! there are horrid Crimes lie hid in smooth
Duke
Humphrey, which the time will bring to light.
King.
My Lords, you seem to take great care of me
If it be real, it deserves great praise;
But shall I speak my Conscience freely to you?
No Man, I'me sure, no Monarch shou'd dissemble,
I do not, cannot think the Duke of
Glocester
That horrid thing you represent him to me.
Card.
Then what are we, Sir?
King.
My Lord Cardinal,
I'le tell you what my Father said you were,
His Reason was as piercing as his Sword;
And he from depth of Knowledg, not from Prophesie,
Said, That if e're you were a Cardinal.
You'd make your Cap vye with your Prince's Crown.
As for these Lords, I wo'ld entreat of them
To think that I have Eyes as well as they.
If my Lord Duke of
Glocester had such Sores
Break out of him as these, I shou'd ha' seen e'm
Some time or other, sure, as well as they.
If he had plaid such Proteus tricks as these,
Some time or other, sure, I shou'd have catch'd him.
But if he be the Monster they have painted him,
[Page 41]
Then what a horrid villanous thing is Man?
Who wou'd not rather live with Wolves than Men?
For a Wolf shews his nature, but a Man
Appears a Lamb, when he is most a Wolf.
If so, then I must fly from all of you;
For now when you seem Lambs, you may be Tygers.
Qu.
Sir, on my knees I humbly fall before you.
(Kneels.)
And beg with Tears, do not give up your self
And all of us to Death by incredulity.
I am a poor weak Woman, and a Stranger,
And of a Nation for whom your Subjects
By Nature, have an inbred scorn and hate,
Which great successes, greatly have improv'd.
And, Sir, my banish't Enemy the Duchess,
Will in the Rocks of her poor barren Island,
Sit brooding Vengeance, and when you are dead,
The Eagles she has hatcht shall tear my Soul out,
And who in
England can or will protect me?
Suff.
And all of us are in the same condition.
All kneel.
Qu.
Then if you think these Lords, Sir, have no Loyalty,
Nor I the consort of your Youth no love,
Yet think we have some kindness for our selves,
And in your preservation seek our own.
King.
Rise my dear Love; rise all of you my Lords;
If I have injur'd you by my suspitions,
I pray forgive me, you perhaps have seen
More in the Duke of
Glocester, than I have.
I must confess I'me of a temper fram'd
Wakeful to holy thinks, drowzy to earthly;
I'me as unfit for Earth, as some for Heaven.
Yet knowing I'me the Shepherd of my Flock,
I rouse my self to attend upon my Duty,
But oft I charm my self asleep again
With the Caelestial Musick of Religion,
And then a Wolf may steal upon my sleep
And I not see him, which perhaps you may.
That, Sirs, I thank you, all for your kind care.
Card.
Sir, we have faithfully discharg'd our Consciences.
King.
You have done well, I thank you all; but pray
Give me good proofs of what you have alledged.
'Tis not enough to say, in such a Bush
There lies a Thief, in such a Cave a Beast,
But you must shew him to me e're I shoot,
Else I may kill one of my stragling Sheep,
I'me fond of no mans Person but his Vertue.
Prove that the Duke and Loyalty are strangers.
[Page 42]
And he and I will be as far asunder
As Life and Death, the Grave shall be betwixt us.
Suff.
Oh! Sir, we shall not want sufficient proofs.
Enter the Duke
of Glocester,
they all start as soon as he comes in.
Card.
See! see! the Duke is here.
King.
Ha! they all start
At the first sight of him, I like not that.—
(Aside.)
Gl.
All happiness attend my Lord the King.
Pardon, Royal Sir, that I have stayed so long.
Suff.
My Lord of
Glocester, you are come too soon,
Unless you were more Loyal than you are.
My Lord, I here Arrest you of high Treason.
Gl.
My Lord of
Suffolk, you shall not see me blush,
Nor change my Countenance at this Arrest.
King.
As they to see him did; he twits e'm well.—
Aside.
Gl.
Innocence is not very easily daunted.
Who can accuse me? Wherein am I guilty?
Yo.
'Tis thought, my Lord, that you took Bribes from
France,
And being Protector, staid the Souldiers Pay,
By means whereof all
France is almost lost.
Gl.
Is it but thought so? What are they that think so?
King.
Ha! Is it come but to a thought already?
(Aside.)
Gl.
I never rob'd the Souldiers of their Pay.
Nor ever had one penny Bribe from
France.
But I have rob'd my self both day and night
Of all my rest, to study good for
England.
The Farthing that e're I wrested from the King,
Or hoarded up for my own private use,
I wish may canker all, I can call mine;
But I have wrested from my own Revenues
Many a Pound, and given among the Garrisons,
Because I wou'd not Tax the needy Commons,
And never ask'd for Restitution.
Card.
It serves you well, my Lord, to say so much.
Gl.
I say no more than truth, so help me Heaven.
Yo.
In your Protectorship, you did invent
Strange and unheard of Tortures for Offenders,
That
England was defam'd by Tyranny.
Gl.
It is well known, Pity was all my fault;
For I shou'd melt at an Offenders tears,
And humble words were Ransom oft for Faults.
I never gave condign Punishment,
Unless the Offender were a bloody Murtherer,
Or ravenous Thief, that fleaec'd poor Passengers.
Suff.
[Page 43]
My Lord, these Faults are easie, quickly answer'd:
But mightier Crimes shall be laid to your Charge,
From which you cannot easily purge your self.
I then Arrest you in his Majestie's Name,
And here Commit you to my Lord Cardinal,
To keep you safely till your time of Trial.
King.
So, they scarce know what to accuse him of
(Aside.)
And yet Arrest him, now I find e'm out.
My Lord of
Glocester, 'tis my special hope,
That you will clear your self from all Suspition;
My Conscience tells me you are Innocent.
Gl.
Ah! Gracious Prince, these Days are dangerous:
Vertue ne're saw good Times, but one wou'd think
If ever it shou'd find e'm 'twou'd be now,
Under the Reign of such a Saintlike King.
But now the Devil rages more than ever,
'Cause from the Angel-vertues of the King,
He almost fears the downfal of his Kingdom.
Under the Reigns of wicked Kings he sleeps,
Because he knows they do his Business for him;
But now he let's out all his fiercest Fiends,
And bids them do his worst, or all is lost.
Rancour, Ambition, and foul Subornation,
Are all at work to take away my Life,
The Devil will not be content without it.
If I by Death cou'd serve my King and Country,
I'de freelier give my Life, than these Lords take it.
King.
My Lord, my Lord I do believe you.
Gl.
Sir, I humbly thank you for your Royal Charity,
All these Lords know what you believe, my innocence.
Sad were my case, if there were proofs as strong
Of their foul Charge, as their foul Hate and rancour.
Their very looks are witnesses against e'm.
Beauford's red sparkling eyes tell his hearts malice,
And
Sufollk's cloudy brow his stormy hate.
Sharp
Buckingham unburden's with his Tongue,
The envious load that lies upon his heart.
And dogged
York that reaches at the Moon,
Because I have pluck'd back his roaming Arm,
Endeavours to pull Vengeance on my Head,
Nay, my Queen has with the rest conspir'd,
And with her best endeavour has stirr'd up
My Gracious King to be my Enemy:
Ay, all of you have laid your Heads together,
I had notice of your Plots and Conventicles,
And all to take away my guiltless Life.
[Page 44]
I shall not want false Witness to condemn me,
Nor store of Treason to augment my Guilt.
Card.
His railing, Sir, is most intolerable.
If those that watch to keep your Royal Person
From Treason's secret Knife, and Traytor's rage,
Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,
And the Offender granted scope of speech,
'Twill cool Men's zeal to serve your Majesty.
Suff.
Has he not twit our Sovereign Lady here
With ignominious words, though subtilly coucht?
As if she had suborned Villains to swear
False Allegations, to destroy his Life?
Qu.
But I can give the looser leave to rail.
Beshrew the Winners, for they play me false,
And well such Loosers may have leave to speak.
Buck.
He'l wrest the sence, and hold us here all day.
Pray, my Lord Cardinal, look to your Prisoner.
Card.
Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him sure.
Gl.
Ah! thus King
Henry throws away his Crutch
Before his Legs be firm to bear his Body.
Farewel most gracious Sovereign, Heaven protect you,
You ne're stood more in need of his Protection,
For I'me afraid if Heaven does not save you,
Man will not; Oh! that all my fears were groundless.
King.
Stay Uncle, let me embrace you e're I go!
I wish, (I speak it here before their faces)
I wish my Enemies had but thy innocence.
I in thy face behold, what I ne're saw,
Or in their looks, or any of their actions,
A map of Honour, Truth, and Loyalty.
Card.
Oh! Sir! and do you thus—? —
King.
Nay, Sirs, permit me,
You from my Bosom tear my best of Friends,
My wisest Councellor, my faithful'st Servant,
And the great torment forces me to speak.
Ah! yet, good Uncle, is the hour yet to come
That e're I found you false, or fear'd your Faith.
But there are louring Stars envy your state.
For these great Lords, and
Margaret your Queen,
Do seek subversion of your harmless life,
And I your King want power to save you from e'm.
Gl.
Ah, gracious Sovereign, send me quickly hence,
What ever innocence I had before,
I'me growing a great Criminal, my stay
Does make me guilty of your Royal Sorrows.
King.
Thou need'st not beg to be sent hence, thy Enemies
[Page 45]
Will quickly send thee hence in spite of me.
Gl.
Oh! what a World is this, when such a King
Has little Power, because he has too much Goodness.
Card.
The Duke sure bears about him some Enchantment,
Wherewith he does bewitch the King! — Away with him.
Gl.
I will away; and from the World and you
Cou'd part, with greater joy than e're man left
A howling Desert full of Savage Beasts,
Did I not leave my Sovereign behind.
But, Oh! the joy of my escape is dash'd,
When I remember I have left him there
Bewildred, and no one to be his guid,
Begirt by Wolves, and none to be his guard.
Card.
What, are we Wolves? He does improve in railing.
Gl.
Prove your selves otherwise, I shall be glad;
Let all your wickedness end at my death,
And I'le forgive you that with all my heart.
I will thank Heaven for my destiny,
If as the Roman
Curtius, stop'd the Plague
By leaping down into the gaping Earth;
So I by being thrown into the Grave,
Cou'd stop the plague of your Ambition.
But I'me afraid I shall do no such miracle.
Suff.
This is intolerable! My Lord Cardinal,
Why do you stand so tamely, and permit him
To wound both yours, and all our Honours thus?
Card.
I will endure no more, away with him.
King.
Farewel, good Man.
Gl.
Farewel, oh! best of Kings.
(Exit with a Guard.)
King.
So the inhumane Souldier from the panting
Breass of his trembling Mother tears an Infant,
And carries it away before her face
Upon his bloody Spear; whilst she looks on
And swoons, and falls, and dares not call for help.
Even so remorseless ha' they born him hence,
Whilst I with as unhelpless tears bewail
The good Man's injuries, and with dim'd eyes
Look after him, and cannot do him good,
So mighty are his vowed Enemies;
Whom he I'me sure ne're wrong'd, he ne're wrong'd any Man.
Exit.
Qu.
Do you see, my Lords, in what a case we are?
The King will hear nothing against the Duke.
The King is cold, full of foolish pity,
And
Glocester's shew beguiles his easie mind,
Just as a Snake roul'd in a flowry Bank,
Which shining checker'd slough does sting a Child,
[Page 46]
That for the beauty thinks it excellent.
Believe me, Lords, were none more wise than I,
And I believe my self not dull in this,
This
Glocester shou'd be quickly rid of the World,
To free the King from danger, us from fear.
Card.
That he shou'd die, is worthy Policy;
But yet we want some Colour for his death,
And it is meet he die by course of Law.
Suff.
That were a worthy policy indeed,
To bring him to the Bar, and there for want
Of good substantial Arguments against him,
Shall openly arreign our selves of Malice;
And so instead of bringing him to death,
Expose our selves to all the People's fury.
True, we have Jealousie back'd with strong Reasons,
But Reason cannot enter into their minds;
Mud Walls, you know, resist all Battery.
And then from those Mud Walls, the People's fury
Will salley out, and make slaughter on us.
Yo.
I'me o' your mind, it is distraction
To sail with him into his own safe Harbour
The People's rage, and not be well coyl'd round
With proofs, that will resist small shot at least.
Qu.
What shall we do then? Must we let him live?
If so, let's find some way our selves to die;
For I had rather perish once for all,
Than die each hour a lingring death of fear.
Suff.
No, Madam, no, the imperious Duke shall die,
We will not to his pride and rage expose
The King, the Kingdom, and our selves, and do
Substantial wrong to all, because we cannot
Do against him a formal piece of Justice.
Must Justice starve, because we want a Lawyers
Forked distinctions to feed her neatly with;
And bright keen proofs to carve him up withal?
No, let us examine into her hungry Stomach
The morsel any way, no matter how.
Nor will the Duke have any injury,
It is an honest, and a good deceit
To deceive him who first intends deceit.
Qu.
Most gallant
Suffolk, resolutely spoke.
Suff.
Not resolute except so much were done,
For things are often spoke, and never meant.
To shew my Heart and Tongue fully agree,
Say but the word, I'le be the Executioner;
And think I do a meritorious deed.
[Page 47]
I know the Duke means Treason to the King,
Why shou'd I stay for proofs of what I know?
Does any one refuse to kill a Wolf,
Till he has stain'd his Chops, with Crimson Blood?
No, 'tis enough he knows him for a Wolf,
His nature's Crime enough to deserve death.
He then does best, that does dispatch him soonest.
What do you say Lord Cardinal? Speak your mind,
You see how free we are, why are you close?
Is it a meritorious deed, or no?
Card.
My Lords, I only staid to feel your Pulses.
That I might know the temper of your minds,
How vigorous their constitutions were.
Religion has a body and a spirit,
The body is like Water, weak and tasteless,
And that we fling among the Common People;
The extracted Spirit is intoxicating,
And that we drink our selves, and give our Friends.
And as wise Men do always in their pleasures
Select Companions of their own Humour,
Those that are rude and quarrelsome in Drink,
They shun with care; those that are kind and pleasant,
Witty and good natur'd, gladly they Consort withal,
So we ne're drink the spirit of Religion,
With any Men but those of our own minds,
Or Men of melting maudling piety,
Who when they are drunk with it, will kiss our feet,
And weep, and do whatever we command e'm.
Suff.
And pray, what is this Spirit? let us taste it.
Card.
This! Did some ask me if this deed were lawful,
I wou'd say no, it is a horrid Murder.
If any Man offend's against the Publick,
He to the Publick must give satisfaction;
That private Man that kills him is a Murderer,
And a bold Robber of the publick Right.
But now to you I say, cut the Duke's Throat,
'Tis lawful, necessary, meritorious.
And so 'twere in another, but perhaps
If I shou'd say so he wou'd not believe it,
So he might wound the Church with its own Weapons:
I'd pronounce all such damn'd, should kill the Duke,
But I'le pronounce you damn'd if you refuse it,
Because you are capable of these great mysteries.
Suff.
Most excellent! this deed which I before
Only thought needful, now I find Religious.
Card.
A most religious, meritorious deed.
[Page 48]
You know the Churches Power is call'd the Keys;
The Keys are given us, not one single Key,
As if there were only one Door to Heaven.
Oh! there are many entrances! There's one
Great common Gate of common Honesty,
At that we let in common understandings;
Then there are private Wickets, but the Stairs
That lead up to e'm, are most steep and dangerous,
And none dare venture up but bold brave Spirits;
But these back Stairs lead up to Heaven's best Rooms.
This Murder then is one of Heaven's back Stairs.
Kill him, his Blood will oyl the Churches Keys,
That you shall choose what Room in Heaven you please.
Yo.
I ne're heard any thing that pleas'd me better.
Card.
My Lords, my Lords, Reason and Law allow
You Layicks to carry Swords for your defence,
Religion suffers us to carry none.
Is it because Priests Altars and Religion
Does not deserve defence as well as you?
Yes, but we Priests have always Weapons ready,
A kind of two-edge Knives, call'd Subtilties,
That are most keenly whetted at the Altars,
And nothing cuts so as one of them.
In short then, kill the Duke, kill him to night,
Before he hurt the King, the Church, or you.
Suff.
Here is my hand, my Lord, I'le see it done.
Qu.
I give consent.
Yo.
I'le joyn; and now we four
Agree in it, who dares oppose a Censure?
Suff.
We must get fitting People to assist us.
Card.
I'le find you such, I'le mould e'm for the purpose.
When we have kill'd the Duke, we will give out
He kill'd himself to prevent publick shame,
Or his heart broke because he was discovered.
Suff.
But will not those be Lyes?
Card.
Most sacred truths.
Do not his actions bring his death upon him?
Qu.
True.
Card.
Then 'tis true, I hope he kills himself.
Suff.
Right.
Card.
Or suppose we report the discovery
Of his foul treacherous actions broke his heart:
I pray, is that false, when the discovery
Of his foul actions make us break his Neck?
Suff.
No, certainly, for that will break his heart.
Card.
[Page 49]
Then every way you see, we spread no falshoods.
My Lords, the Church has several kind of Garments,
Course home-spun Clothes for Fools, fine Robes for Wits.
Now though a Fool may be let into Heaven
With his course Coat on, they will ne're admit him
To Rooms of State, among the Saints of quality.
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent.
My Lords, I am sent Post to you from
Ireland.
The Irish Rebels are all up in Arms,
And put the English to the Sword, send Succours
With all the speed you can, and stop the rage
Betimes, or else the Wound may grow incurable.
Card.
A Breach that craves a very speedy stop.
What counsel give you in this weighty Business?
Suff.
That speedy Force be rais'd. My Lord of
York,
Pray do you Head e'm, and go try your Fortune.
Yo.
I will, my Lord, so please his Majesty.
Suff.
Why, our Authority is his consent,
And what we do establish he confirms.
Then pray, my Lord, take you this task in hand.
Yo.
Content, my Lords, do you provide me Souldiers,
Whilst I take orders for my own Affairs.
Suff.
To raise you men, my Lord, shall be my business.
And now return we to the false Duke
Humphry.
Card.
Let us about the work immediately.
Things of great weight must not be carried long
For fear we shou'd tire under e'm; and now
The gaudy blabbing, and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the Sea,
And in the room more fitting for our purpose,
The silent pitiless stern-night is risen,
And beck
[...]ns us methinks with her black hand,
To do that gallant work under her Wings,
Will make her fam'd in the Records of Time,
Who else will like a drop fall in the Sea
Of black Oblivion, and be lost for ever.
Suff.
Come then, I slame with fury to be at it,
That I shall need no Flambeau but my self.
Card.
We two, my Lord, will be the chief performers,
But yet we must have some trusty assistants,
And I will go and fashion some immediately;
I always have store of soft Clay prepar'd,
Which I can mould into what shape I please.
Suff.
[Page 50]
Madam, please you to go to your Repose,
And dream of Crowns and Scepters, the high Wall
That kept you from e'm, shall fall down to Night,
And your way open'd to the Royal Seat.
Qu.
And thou shalt happy be when I am great:
Aside to him.
Yo.
So Lords, I thank you, you have done my business,
Ex. S.Q.C.
I wanted men and you will give e'm me;
I wanted
Glocester's death, you give me that too.
Now lies the King as open to destruction,
As a poor Ship tost on the open Sea,
With Masts all broken, and the Sailers mad.
I have seduc'd one
Cado, a headstrong Kentishman,
To take on him the name of
Mortimer,
And make Commotion. I have seen in
Ireland
That Fellow fight, till his thighs full of Darts,
Were almost like two sharp-quill'd Porcupines.
Then have I seen him dance like a Morisco,
Shaking the bloody Darts, as he his Bells.
In Face, and Gate, and Speech; he's like dead
Mortimer.
Thus shall I try how men affect our Title.
If he be ta'ne and Rack'd, he'l ne're confess.
And if he thrives, I'le reap the Rascal's harvest.
Then pious
Henry to a Covent gone,
And
Humphry to his Tomb, I'le climb the Throne.
Exit.
Enter the Cardinal, Suffolk,
and three Murderers.
Suff.
Are you provided, my Lord Cardinal?
Card.
Of three brave Fellows.
Suff.
What? old hardned Villains?
Card.
Of better instruments, of soft Church Tools
Which I have heated with the fire of Zeal,
And I can bow e'm any way I please.
These are the honest men! — Come honest men!
You are design'd to be most glorious men;
Glorious on Earth, and glorious in Heaven.
Suff
I will provide for e'm on Earth, my Lord,
The other place do you look after, for e'm.
Card.
How? I provide for e'm in Heaven, my Lord?
They'l have more share in Heaven than my self.
1.
Mur.
Oh! my good Lord!
Card.
Nay, it is true, my Friends.
Suff.
My Lord, you will instruct e'm what to do.
Card.
I have instructed, and encourag'd e'm,
Told e'm their business, and the nature of it,
That 'tis a charity to the whole Church.
[Page 51]
I've told e'm, stopping of a Heretick's Windpipe,
Is stopping a wide Leak sprung in the Church,
Where streams of Heresie flow in to drown it;
Which if they will not stop, especially
When I a Pilot in the Church command e'm,
They will not only cast away their own
Poor ruin'd Souls, but many thousands more.
Suff.
Sure, nothing is more plain.
1.
Mur.
Nothing, my Lord.
2.
Mur.
Oh! may it please your Grace, 'tis very plain.
3.
Mur.
Pshaw! pshaw! 'tis not so plain, and I do'nt like it.
'Tis not so plain, I'me sure, as I want Money.
Aside.
Card.
Well, I need say no more, I'le only give e'm
An Oath of secrecy; come to me presently
About that Business.
1.
Mur. 2.
Mur.
We'l attend your Grace.
Ex. Card. Suff.
3.
Mur.
I don't know what to think o' this damn'd business.
1.
Mur.
What shou'd you think! 'Tis stopping of a Leak.
3.
Mur.
Do not talk to me of stopping of a Leak!
It is a cursed Murder.
2.
Mur.
How, a Murder!
The Cardinal said it is a work of charity.
3.
Mur.
It is so, to my starving Wife and Children,
I shall stop Leaks in their poor empty Bellies,
And that's the thing that satisfies my Conscience.
1.
Mur.
That's not enough, you may get Money otherwise.
3.
Mur.
I cannot, I take pains, and pray, and fast,
And am so fearful to displease a Saint,
That I keep every day a Holy-day,
And yet I cannot thrive.
2.
Mur.
That's very strange.
3.
Mur.
I got a little Money the other day,
And went, and gave half of it to a Priest,
To pray for me, and give me a little counsel,
What course I had best take to get some Money.
He gave me a heavenly Prayer, and bid me say it
For thirty days together, and after that
He said I shou'd obtain what e're I ask'd for.
I did, and at the end of thirty days,
I pray'd to Heaven to give me thirty pounds;
Then I watch'd night and day, almost a Week,
To see if any thing wou'd bring the Money;
The devil of any one brought me a farthing.
1.
Mur.
That's very strange.
3.
Mur.
I went and told the Priest
[Page 52]
What luck I had; he bad me go to
Canterbury,
And pray devoutly to St.
Thomas Becket.
I went and pray'd to St.
Thomas, and St.
Thomas,
But might as well have pray'd to St.
Tom Thumb,
For any thing I got.
2.
Mur.
That's very strange.
3.
Mur.
I went again, and told the Priest my luck,
And then he gave me a miraculous Prayer,
Said, if that wou'd not do, then nothing wou'd.
He said, the other day in
Germany,
A high dutch Lady had her Head cut off,
And yet liv'd after it, two and twenty hours.
2.
Mur.
After her Head was off?
3.
Mur.
After 'twas off.
1.
Mur.
Good-lack, is't possible?
3.
Mur.
She cou'd not die
Till she Confest, and had Communicated,
And then her Head and Body agreed to die,
And in her Grave it seems this prayer was found.
2.
Mur.
And did you say it?
3.
Mur.
Ay, forty times a day,
For forty days.
1.
Mur.
And was you e're the richer?
3.
Mur.
The devil a farthing.
2.
Mur.
Oh! Good-lack! good-lack!
3.
Mur.
On this I went and told the Cardinal all.
1.
Mur.
And what said he to you?
3.
Mur.
He made me kneel,
And thank St.
Thomas, and the high dutch Lady,
For they had heard my Prayers, and sent me to him,
To do a work wou'd gain me Heaven and Earth.
2.
Mur.
Why look you there now!
1.
Mur.
Look you, look you there now.
3.
Mur.
But that same work, was this same scurvy business.
2.
Mur.
A scurvy business? Do you call a blessing
Sent from St.
Thomas, and the high dutch Lady,
A scurvy business?
3.
Mur.
Why shou'd I believe
It came from them? for both their Throats were cut;
Why shou'd I think that they love cutting Throats?
They cou'd not find it such a pleasant business.
1.
Mur.
They love to cut the throat of a vile Heretick.
3.
Mur.
How do I know Duke
Humphry is a Heretick?
2.
Mur.
The Cardinal says he is one.
3.
Mur.
How if the Cardinal
Shou'd be mistaken?
1.
Mur.
[Page 53]
He will answer for it.
3.
Mur.
And so he shall, for I'me an honest Fellow,
And if to kill Duke
Humphry be a sin,
I'le either lay it at the Cardinal's door,
Or put it on the high dutch Lady's score.
—Ex. Mur.
Enter Cardinal
and three Murderers.
Card.
So, you have all sworn at the holy Altars;
Now have a care, don't let your Consciences
Fool you, to flinch with fear e're it is done,
Or to repent and tell it when 'tis done;
If so you are trebly Damn'd.
1.
Mur.
I warrant your Grace.
Card.
Believe your Priests, and not your Consciences,
For Priests are to direct your Consciences;
Your Consciences are silly, false, corrupt.
2
Mur.
Oh! hang my Conscience, Sir, I ne're regarded it.
3
Mur.
May I be bold to ask your Grace one question?
Card.
Ay, prethee do.
3
Mur.
Suppose a Priest, an't please you,
Mistake, and I shou'd sin by his command,
Will he be damn'd for me? and shall I escape?
Card.
A Priest mistake? Sirrah, were you ne're catechis'd,
That you are ignorant of First Principles?
1
Mur.
Why, look you now, you will be asking questions.
Card.
The Church cannot mistake, the Church is infallible.
3
Mur.
Pray Sir, an't please you, how shall I know that?
Card.
How shall you know it, Sirrah? The Church tells you so.
2
Mur.
Prethee give over, don't stand asking questions.
3
Mur.
How shall I know the Church tells true, an't please you?
Card.
The Church, I say, Sirrah, is Infallible.
3
Mur.
How shall I know the Church is so Infallible?
Card.
Why I say, Sirrah, the Church tells you so.
3
Mur.
But how shall I be certain it tells true?
1
Mur.
What a strange man is this? we must dismiss him?
Car.
Be certain, this is a damn'd Rogue! —a Heretick!
Sirrah, don't you believe the Church? I'le burn you.
2
Mur.
So, so, you have brought your self into a fine pickle.
3
Mur.
Oh! yes, Sir, I believe!
1
Mur.
Oh! do you so.
2
Mur.
'Tis time you shou'd.
3
Mur.
I only did make bold to ask some questions,
To know some things, that I was ignorant of
Card.
Why there was your mistake, you are not to Know,
You are only to do what a Priest bids you;
[Page 54]
Priests only are to know, you are to know nothing
Except your duty, and the reward that follows it.
Your duty now is to destroy a Traytor,
Yes, and a Heretick.
3
Mur.
I'le do't, an't please you.
1
Mur.
Your Grace may trust him, he is an honest Fellow,
Only a little troublesome with scruples.
2
Mur.
Which way, Sir, had we best to kill the Duke?
Card.
Which way it shall please Heaven to inspire you.
Stay, let me see! —Strangling I think were best.
Ay strangling! strangling! 'twill give least suspition,
And make the World believe, Grief broke his heart;
For so we will give out.
1
Mur.
We'l do't an't please you.
I have a Handkerchief fit for the purpose.
Card.
Open the door, go to him, go, go, quickly.
The Scene is drawn, the Duke of Glocester
sitting and reading in his Night-Gown.
Card.
Ha! he's awake, and up; you two go hold him
Softly to the Mur.
And get him down, whilst the other strangles him.
Gl.
Ha! Who is that opens the door?
2
Mur.
The Cardinal's
Servants, an't please your Grace.
Gl.
And what's your business?
1
Mur.
The Cardinal saw your Light burning so late,
And was afraid your Grace was indispos'd;
And sent to know if your Grace wanted any thing,
And gave us strict command to wait upon you.
Gl.
He is grown wondrous kind; I am afraid
He's ill, for this is not his natural temper.
He guesses right of me, I'm ill indeed;
A heaviness like Death oppresses me.
I cannot get my thoughts out of a Grave:
I fear not Death it self, why shou'd a dream
And empty shadow of it then oppress me?
Card.
So, get behind him now whilst he is musing.
Aside.
Gl.
If wicked men be digging now my Grave,
And these cold Terrors be fore-running damps,
Oh! Heaven prepare me for it.
3
Mur.
How he prays!
Aside.
2
Mur.
What if he does? What are a Hereticks prayers?
Aside.
Gl.
Let all my sins drop from me in these Tears.
3
Mur.
How penitent he is! —my Soul relents,
The Devil take this cursed want of Money.
Aside.
Gl.
If e're my Person, Greatness, or Authority,
[Page 55]
Did injure any one, forgive the fault,
And in the bosome of the injur'd person,
Pour down a thousand blessings. —Above all things
Preserve the King from all his Enemies.
If I by Wickedness and Falshood perish,
Oh! give my bloody Enemies repentance,
And let my Death be an occasion
Of good to them, but ruine to their wickedness.
3
Mur.
Heark, how he prays for us that are his murderers!
Aside
1
Mur.
What if he does? he is a Heretick.
His Prayers are Curses, we are the worse for e'm.
Aside.
Card.
Why don't you do your work?
Aside.
3
Mur.
We will; we will.
Aside.
Gl.
So shall I do more good in Death than Life,
And by my innocent Death procure a Blessing
To my good King, my Country, all my Enemies.
They lay hold on the Duke and strangle him.
Card.
So! Is he dead yet?
2
Mur.
Yes! he does not stir.
Enter the Duke of Suffolk.
Suff.
Ho! What's the News?
Card.
The deed is done, my Lord.
Suff.
Have you dispatch'd the thing?
1
Mur.
We have done his business.
Suff.
Thou art a gallant Rogue! there's Gold for thee.
And for you all.
Card.
A Rogue, my Lord, you wrong him;
He is a Saint, and so are they all.
3
Mur.
A Saint:
Aside.
Devil take such Saints.
I wou'd this deed were to be done again,
My Family shou'd starve e're I wou'd do it.
Card.
I hear a noise without.
3
Mur.
A noise without!
I'me sure I hear a cursed noise within me,
A bawling Conscience.
Card.
Place the Body some way
As may give least suspition, and be gone,
And come another time for your rewards.
They place the Body in a Chair, shut the Scene,— and Ex.
Qu.
What brings your Majesty abroad so early?
You
[...]o not use to finish your Devotion
So soon as this.
King.
Oh! Love, I am not well,
My Uncle is always walking in my mind,
And shakes the melancholy Room with fear;
Methinks he tells me I have not done well,
To give him up to his too cruel Enemies,
To men who are not such as they shou'd be.
Qu.
Why, Sir, have you so great mistrust of e'm?
King.
I wish I had no cause; I've sent Commands to e'm,
To bring my Uncle to me presently.
Enter the Cardinal.
Had you my message, my Lord Cardinal?
Card.
Yes, Royal Sir, the Duke of
Suffolk instantly
Will bring the Duke of
Glocester; I have lodg'd
My noble Prisoner but in the next Rooms.
King.
Methinks he shou'd not be the man you make him.
Card.
Your Majesty has your eyes always fixt
On shining Heaven, that when you look below,
The World is in a mist and dark to you.
Enter Suffolk.
King.
How now? Why look'st thou pale? why do'st thou shake?
Where is my Uncle? What's the matter? Speak.
Suff.
The Duke is dead.
Card.
How! Dead?
Suff.
Dead in his Chair.
Qu.
Oh! Heaven forbid!
Suff.
'Tis true.
Card.
Heaven's secret Judgments.
I fear'd some dreadful judgment wou'd o'retake him.
The King Swoons.
Qu.
How is my Lord? Help, help, the King is dying.
Suff.
Rear up his Body, fetch some Water quickly.
Qu.
Oh! Help, help, help.
Suff.
See, he revives again.
Madam, be comforted.
Qu.
How does my Lord?
King.
[Page 57]
Oh! heavenly God! —
Sighs deeply.
Suff.
Take comfort, Gracious Sir.
King.
Ah! Wo is me for
Glocester! wretched man!
Qu.
Is all your comfort shut up in his Tomb?
And can you find no joy in me at all?
Why do you turn away and hide your Face?
I am no loathsome Leaper, look on me.
Ah! wo is me, more wretched than he is.
Did I for this expose my self to Winds,
And Rocks, and Seas, and twice was almost wrack'd,
And twice was driven back, as if the Winds
Forewarn'd me landing on this unkind Shore!
The vaulting Sea danc'd with me to and fro,
As it were loth to bring me to this Coast.
The Rocks cover'd in the Waves, and hid themselves,
As shaming to owe kindred to an Island,
Whose cruel King wou'd thus reward my Love.
Ah! see if he will speak to me, or look on me!
How hateful am I grown! Ah! wretched me!
Card.
I see the King loves this dead Traytor better
Than all his living Friends! Farewel,— I'me sorry Sir,
To see you hate your Friends, and love your Enemies.
Ex.
King.
Where is my dead Friend? I'le see him— lead me to him.
Suff.
In the next Room, Sir: Ho, open these doors.
The Scene is drawn, and the Duke of Glocester
is shewn dead in a Chair.
King.
Oh! thou good man! And hast thou thus been us'd?
And is this all of thee that's left to me?
Oh! to how little, and how poor a pittance
Are all my Comforts in this life now brought!
Enter Warwick.
War.
Oh! Sir, Reports are spread among the People,
The good Duke
Humphry treacherously is murder'd,
By
Suffolk's and the Cardinal
Beauford's means.
Suff.
By mine?
War.
By yours.
Suff.
I did expect as much.
War.
The Commons, like a Hive of angry Bees,
That want their Leader, scatter up and down,
And care not whom they sting in their revenge.
I have endeavour'd to allay their rage,
Until they are satisfied about his death.
King.
Ah! my Lord he is dead, 'tis true! too true!
[Page 58]
See here: —But how he died, God knows, not I.
I fear foul play was plaid him for his Life.
Oh Heaven! to whom Judgment alone belongs,
Forgive me if I injure any one
With false suspitions.
War.
Sir, as certainly,
As I believe that Heaven was his Maker,
I believe Treachery was his destroyer.
Suff.
Do you know it, that so dreadfully you swear it?
War.
I swear that I believe it.
Suff.
What's your reason?
War.
I see already above a thousand proofs,
That he was basely strangled.
Suff.
Strangled!
War.
Strangled.
His Face is black and swell'd with settled Blood,
Which shews the passage to the Heart was stopt,
Whether the Blood in natural deaths descends,
To aid the labouring Heart in his last conflict;
And failing, freezes with the cold of Death,
And ne're returns, but leaves the face all pale.
His eyes stand gastly from his Head, and almost
Come out to meet us to complain of strangling.
His gaping nostrils are stretch'd out with striving,
His hands are spread abroad, as one that grasp'd
And tugg'd for Life, but was by strength o're-master'd.
His well proportion'd Beard, is rugged made
Like Summer's Corn, by furious tempest lodg'd.
See a blew Ring encompasses his Neck.
Oh! Murder here has danc'd her fairy round.
If the Duke was not strangled, ne're was man.
Suff.
Why, who shou'd do it, my Lord? none but my self
And Cardinal
Beauford, had him in protection.
War.
Who finds the Heifer dead, and bleeding fresh,
And sees a Butcher with his Ax stand by,
May easily suspect who made the Slaughter.
Qu.
The Cardinal, and you, my Lord, are Murderers!
For shame, my Lord of
Warwick, rule your arrogance.
War.
Pray, Madam, let me with due reverence tell you,
Each word you speak for him, slaunders your Honour.
Suff.
Blunt-witted Lord, thy evil manners say,
Thy Mother took into her blameful Bed
Some rough untutour'd Churl, and grafted there
On
N
[...]vil's noble race a rugged Clown.
War.
Did not my Sovereign's presence check my fury,
I'de make thee kneel for pardon for this speech,
[Page 59]
And say, 'twas thy own Mother that thou mean'st,
And after this low homage, I wou'd kill thee,
Thou treacherous murderer of sleeping men.
Suff.
Thou shalt be waking when I shed thy blood;
If er'e I meet thee from this royal presence.
War.
Away, or I will drag thee! —though I scorn thee,
I'le fight with thee, to appease Duke
Humphry's Ghost.
King.
Forbear my Lords, for shame! stay, I command you.
A Noise, Enter Salisbury.
Sal.
Great Sir, the Commons humbly implore by me,
The Duke of
Suffolk may be put to death,
Or Banish'd instantly; for else they threaten,
They'l tear him hence by violence and Torture him.
Free from bold contradiction to your liking,
But out of Loyalty they drive him from you.
They say, If you desir'd to sleep, and charg'd
No one on pain of Death shou'd dare to wake you;
Yet if they saw a Serpent in your Bosom,
They with the hazard of their lives wou'd wake you,
And drive him from you whether you wou'd or no.
They say the Duke of
Suffolk is that Serpent,
By whose envenom'd sting your Uncle perish'd;
A Prince a thousand times of
Suffolk's value,
From him they also fear your Majestie's Death.
Suff.
They durst not send this message to their King,
My noble Lord Embassador from
Weavers.
King.
My Lord of
Salisbury, Tell e'm from me,
I thank e'm for their Loyal care of me;
That I have been awake long e're they rouz'd me,
And seen the dangerous Serpent I have cherish'd
To my great danger, and my Friends destruction.
For oh! the slimy paths the Serpent crawl'd
To sting my Friend to Death, shine in my eyes.
Suff.
Sir, will you judg me e're you know my innocnece?
King.
Go tell e'm, By that Heavenly Majesty,
Whose most unworthy Deputy I am,
I vow most solemnly, the English Air
Shall not receive three days infection more
From this most wicked man; for if it does
The fourth shall end his wickedness and him.
Exit Salis.
Suff.
Sir, this is hard to doom m
[...]'re I'me tried.
Qu.
Oh! let me plead, Sir, for this injur'd Lord.
King.
Oh fye, forbear! forbear! your pleading for him
Will add but very little to your Honour,
[Page 60]
But to my anger much; 'twill make me pass
Censure on you, and heavier Doom on him.
Had I but said it, nothing shou'd ha chang'd me;
But having sworn it, you may easier
Remove the Kingdom than stay that man in it.
Then let him hear his Sentence once again:
If after three days space he shall be found
On any Ground that I am Ruler of,
The World shall not be Ransom for his Life.
Exit.
Qu.
Oh wretched! wretched me! Oh! I cou'd turn
My Breath and Spirits all, all into Curses,
Curse all thy Enemies, and all the World.
I prethee joyn with me, and let us Curse e'm.
Suff.
A Plague upon e'm! Wherefore shou'd I curse e'm?
Were Curses killing as the groans of Mandrakes.
I'de stay to curse e'm were the Palace burning,
And every word I said were half on't fire,
And I, my Curses ended, shou'd be Ashes.
For what's the difference 'tween being Ashes,
Or Water, as I soon shall be with Sorrow?
Qu.
I must betake my self now to my Tears,
The last poor refuge of a wretched Woman.
Suff.
Must I see this? And can I not revenge it?
Like one of the fallen Spirits banish'd Heaven.
I stand upon the shining Precipice,
And look with grief on all the Joys I'me leaving;
Then down with Terror on my desperate fall,
Then grin with rage because I cannot help my self;
And amidst all these Passions, I'me more tortur'd
In Heaven, than I sh
[...]ll be when fallen to Hell.
Qu.
My griefs no flesh can bear, no soul can guess.
Oh! that the moment when thou took'st me Prisoner,
Thy Sword had seperated my Soul and Body,
Then had I been at ease; but now thy Banishment
Divides e'm, and I live to feel the torment.
Suff.
I'le stay with you, what ever shall befal me.
Qu.
What shou'd befal but Death to both of us?
The strong convulsions of my griefs have tir'd,
Wasted, and weakned so my vanquish't Spirits,
That I am fainting now into a calm.
Suff.
And in this calm the current of my Sorrows,
Shall bear my drowning Spirits to thy Bosom,
And lay it there as on a Bank of Lillies,
Where I will Die as in a pleasing slumber.
Qu.
This must not be, we must not stay together,
No we must part, or staying thou must Die.
[Page 61]
I rather will endure a lingring Death
Of a long parting, than by Death to lose thee.
Whilst we are living we may meet again.
Suff.
We may, we shall, the King is not Immortal,
Or if he were, his Anger is not so.
But both will have an end, so will our Sorrows.
The longest life has still an utmost point:
No Creature is infinite.
Qu.
Except my Love.
Suff.
In hopes then once to meet again,— Farewel!
Qu.
Oh! sad heart-breaking word! —Where e're thou wandrest
Send to me oft.
Suff.
What joy shall I have else?
All Places will be desolate, and I
Shall live no longer than I hear you live.
Qu.
My Fit returns again! unhappy we!
Why are we two so nearly joyn'd in Love,
And yet by Fortune kept so wide asunder,
First by thy Marriage, and now by thy Banishment?
My Love was thrown as soon as it was Born
On cold Dispair, hearing thou hadst a Wife.
Hadst thou had none, and only been a Shepherd,
And known no other wealth than a small Flock,
No other Title than the charming Swain,
(For so wou'd every Shepherdess have call'd thee)
I wou'd have rather been thy humble Wife,
Than Queen to
Henry.
Suff.
If I shou'd stay here
Till I told o're the Wealth I wou'd have given,
For such a happiness, we ne're shou'd part.
Qu.
Oh! must we part! Heaven made us for each other,
And then did set us two, of all the World,
Farthest asunder; a Wife first did part us,
But now whole Kingdoms, and whole Worlds must part us.
These Miseries I might have well expected;
My Love was born under Captivity,
I was thy Prisoner, e're my heart was so:
Chains lay at th' entrance of the gate of Love,
And pa
[...]l Dispair forbad me entring in;
Yet such sweet Prospects drew my heart along,
It entred in, and now is lost for ever.
Suff.
Say not for ever; Do not cruelly
Put out the eyes of our Prophetick hopes,
Which like so many Angel-guides, will lead
Our Souls to pleasant Prospects of delight,
Where we may gaze till Fate is tir'd with frowning,
[Page 62]
And Time with holding two so bent to meet,
Shall loose his hold, and let us flie together.
Till then farewel.
Qu.
Take with thee my poor heart.
Suff.
A Jewel lock'd into the wofull'st Cabinet
That ever did contain so great a Treasure.
Just like a splitted Bark, so sunder we.
This way sink I to ruine.
Qu.
This way I.—
Exeunt several ways.
The SCENE the Cardinals Apartment.
Enter the Cardinal.
Card.
I'me vext! I'me more, I'me wrack'd! By what? who knows?
By a thing within me call'd a Conscience.
A Trick,— a Spring, that catches us, and pinches,
If we but point at an ill Action.
Why is it an ill thing to kill a man?
He is the Plague and Sickness of the World.
'Tis a kind honest thing to kill a man,
You cure the Worl
[...] of one Disease, you free
Thousands from Mischief, and you ease the man.
Yet if one do a man so great a kindness,
The damn'd ungrateful Rogue torments one's Conscience.
Men are ungrateful Rogues, living or dead.
I know not what to do; I must have ease.
Ho there!
Enter a Servant.
Ser.
My Lord.
Card.
Call my Physitian.
Stay there! — What shou'd I do with a Physitian?
No Physick can give me any ease, but Poyson.
The gravel of the Grave is the best scowring
For such fierce Hawks as I am, after feeding.
Go, now I think on't, call my Confessor.
Let him alone! — What shou'd I do with him too?
My Soul is sick, and it can have no ease,
I grow sick.—
Unless it purge (forsooth) in a Priest's ear.
Fetch me a Glass of Wine, run quickly,— run.
I tremble! — a cold sweat comes over me,
All the Air tastes of an infernal damp.
[Page 63]
The Ghost of Duke Humphry
appears and goes out, the Cardinal
falls into a Swoon. Enter the Servant with Wine.
1
Ser.
Help, help, my Lord is fallen! my Lord is dead!
2
Ser.
Oh! Heaven! What's the matter with my Lord?
3
Ser.
He opens now his eyes!
4
Ser.
He foams at the mouth.
1
Ser.
Let's set him in the Chair and give him air.
3
Ser.
I'le run for his Physitians.
Ex.
4
Ser.
I'le give notice
To all the Court.
Ex.
Enter the three Murtherers.
Card.
Stand off, and let the Duke of
Glocester speak to me.
Speak, speak, I say! What wou'dst thou have with me?
2
Mur.
He names the Duke of
Glocester.
1
Mur.
Oh! Does he so?
Is his Infallibility come to that? A Pox of his Doctrines,
He has damn'd himself and me too.
Card.
Who is the Grave-maker?
He is a Villain, he digs Graves so shallow,
The dead break Prison, and come plague the Living.
Why this is fine, the Living cannot eat
Nor drink, nor sleep in quiet for the Dead;
The Dead that can do none of e'm, must plague us.
Thou envious Ghost, get to thy own abode,
I know not where it is, in Heaven or Hell,
Oh! Hell! Hell! Hell! I am tormented: Oh!
1
Mur.
Oh! gallant, brave Infallibility!
Enter the King, Salisbury, Warwick.
King.
How does the Cardinal?
2
Mur.
Sir, of a sudden
He's fallen into a fit of Infallible Madness.
Card.
Ha! who are these? Stand off, stand off, who are you?
Sal.
This is your King.
Card.
What King? The King of Terrors?
Death! is it he? If thou be'st Death, I'le give thee
Treasure enough to purchase all this Kingdom,
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
King.
Ah! What a sign it is of evil life
When Death's approach appears so terrible?
War.
My Lord, my Lord! Do you know your King?
Car.
[Page 64]
What King? what King?
War.
King
Henry.
Car.
Ha! King
Henry!
Sir, bring me to my Trial when you will,
I am prepar'd, died he not in his Bed?
Can I make men live whether they will no?
Oh! do not torture me! I will confess! —Oh!
King.
Poor wretch!
War.
What think you, Sir? Are not these signs
Of horrid Guilt?
King.
Let us not Censure him.
Car.
Alive again, do you say? Ha! shew him me!
I'le give a Thousand Pound to look on him.
Stand by and let me see him,— there he is,
He has no Eyes, the dust has blinded e'm,
Comb down his hair! —look! — look! it stands upright
Like Limetwigs, set to catch my flying Soul.
I prethee do not carry me along with thee,
And I'le do cruel Pennance all my life;
Hunger shall tear my Entrals, Whips my Flesh,
Thorns my bare Feet; my habit shall be Hair-cloth,
The Rock my Bed, hard Roots my only food,
Foul Puddle all my drink; if this suffice not,
I'le sell my self a Slave among the Turks:
What dost thou say? wilt thou consent to this?
King.
Oh! thou eternal Mercy, cast an eye
Of pity on this Wretch! Oh! drive away from him
The hungry Fiend, that strives to gripe his Soul.
Card.
Ha! Wilt thou not consent? and must I die?
Oh! let me live, and be a Slave, a Dog!
What must I die? Oh! this is very cruel!
War.
See how he grins, Sir, with the pangs of Death.
Sal.
Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.
King.
Peace to his Soul, if it be Heavens good pleasure.
Lord Cardinal, If you have any hopes of Heaven,
Hold up your hand, and give a joyful signal.
Sal.
He gives us none.
King.
Oh! Heaven have mercy on him.
War.
He gives a dreadful signal of his Guilt.
King.
Forbear to judge him, we are sinners all.
He's dead! —close up his eyes, —and let us all
To sad and devout Meditation.
Exeunt.
Qu.
How am I robb'd of all my joys in Youth?
That now my doleful Years will hang on me,
Like a great Family on a poor Bankrupt.
My hope is, Destiny will ne're be able,
With this great weight of Misery upon me,
To drag me to the Prison of old Age,
Where we lie cold and dark as in the Grave,
And have as great a load of Earth upon us;
Where melancholy thoughts about us crawl,
Like Toads in Dungeons about Malefactors:
That Prison, where through gates of Horror wrinkled
Fate feeds us with the Water of our Tears,
But enough to quench the thirst of Sorrow,
For the old Well is then almost dried up.
Lady.
Oh! Madam! you'l bring Age on you in Youth,
If you weep thus.
Qu.
I wou'd if I cou'd, bring on me
The only joy of Age to be near Death.
But I have a long Life to travel through,
Barren and comfortless as any Desert,
And I am spoil'd of all just at the entrance.
Enter another Lady.
2
Lady.
Madam, there's a Gentleman without
Come from aboard a Vessel, where the Duke
Of
Suffolk lately was.—
Qu.
Oh! bring him!
Enter a Gentleman.
Oh! saw you lately, Sir, the Duke of
Suffolk?
Gent.
Yes, Madam.
Qu.
Oh! How does he?
Gent.
Well, I doubt not;
He is at the end of an unhappy Journey.—
Qu.
In
France already?
Gent
In a better Country.—
Madam, forgive my zeal to my dear Lord.
I had the honour to be once his Servant,
And knowing well your Majesty did bear
A very great respect to his great Merit.
[Page 66]
Came to entreat you to revenge his Blood!
Qu.
His Blood!
Gent.
His Blood: See Madam, this was once,
The beauteous manly Visage of my Lord.
Shews the Duke of Suffolk
's Head.
1
Lady.
She faints! she dies! Oh! help for Heaven's sake.
2
Lady.
She stirs; she's coming to her self again.
Qu.
Why have you wak'd me from this pleasing slumber,
In which I had forgotten my vast misery?
Where is the bloody Spectacle you shewed me?
1
Lady.
Away with it!
Qu.
Shew it me again, I say.
Oh! barbarous and bloody Spectacle!
Is this the Noble Duke? Is this the man
That was the pride of Nature,
England's Ornament,
But now is
England's everlasting shame.
Oh! my dear murder'd Duke! Is this the meeting
Which we at parting promised to each other?
Love promis'd more than Destiny cou'd pay.
Who did this cursed deed?
Gent.
A cursed Pyrate,
Who in the Rivers Mouth clapt him aboard,
And took the Duke and all of us his Prisoners.
The Duke they knew not till they spy'd his George,
And then he own'd himself, and for his Ransome,
Offer'd what sums of Gold they wou'd demand;
He chanc'd to be one
Walter Whitmore's Prize,
Who lost in Fight his eye.
Qu.
And to revenge it,
He wou'd put out the Sun.
Gent.
Yes, kill the Duke.
And he was stirr'd to greater insolence.
By that damn'd Villain, which they call'd their Captain,
Who said the Duke had murder'd good Duke
Humphry,
Begger'd the King, lost
France, and ruined
England.
Nay, his foul Tongue did not refuse to spit
Dishonour on your Sacred Majesty,
And said the Duke had injur'd the King's Bed.
Qu.
Impudent Villain!
Gent.
For all which foul Crimes,
He said he wou'd revenge the King and Kingdom.
Qu.
Bold bloody Villain.
Gent.
The brave Duke on this,
Calling to mind his Birth was Calculated,
And it was told him he shou'd die by Water,
[Page 67]
He thought at first the Fiend had quibbled with him,
And he shou'd die by one who was call'd
Water;
But then remembring that he was at Sea,
He found the Devil had two strings to his Bow,
So Saw himself encompast round with Destiny.
Then lifting up his Eyes to Heaven he smil'd,
As if he in his noble thoughts derided
The sport Fate makes with great mens Lives and Fortunes.
Then looking down with scorn on his base Enemies,
He gave a sigh, at which he nam'd Queen
Margaret,
And with that grace he acted every thing,
He bowed his Head, and had it stricken off.
Qu.
Oh! execrable Villains! cou'd this face
Which govern'd me, not strike an awe in you?
Who were not worthy once to look up it?
And thou unfortunate gallant man!
Thy Wit, thy Valour, and thy delicate Form,
Were mighty faults, which the World cou'd not bear.
No wonder the vile envy of the base
Pursued thee, when the Noble cou'd not bear thee,
They cursed thee as the
Negroes do the Sun,
Because thy shining Glories blackned e'm.
For which, Oh
England! thus I pray for thee!
May'st thou ne're breed brave Man, or if thou dost,
Oh! let him be thy Ruine, or thou his.
May all thy Witty men be sadly Vitious,
Let sloth devour their Fortunes, Fools their Fame,
Lewdness their Souls, their Bodies Foul Disease.
May thy Wise Men be Factious, and head Fools,
If they be honest let e'm loose their Heads.
Let thy Brave Men against thy self be bravest,
Be Men at foreign, Devils at Civil War.
Let all thy Pious Sons with zeal run mad,
And make Religion thy Reproach and Curse.
May'st thou have all Religions to confound thee,
And none to save thee. —Here a bloody Altar,
Oh! cruel
England! hast thou made for me,
Therefore these bloody Prayers I make for thee.
2
Lady.
The King is coming, Madam.
[Page 68]
Enter the King.
King.
Oh! my Lord,
I bring thee frightful News, the Kentishmen
Are up in Arms, headed by one
Jack Cade,
A Fellow who proclaims himself Lord
Mortimer,
Descended from the Duke of
Clarence Line.
He is marching towards
London, in the head
Of a rude rugged merciless crowd of Peasants;
And all the way he proclaims me Usurper,
And vows to Crown himself at
Westminster.
And in this great distress, to comfort me,
The tray'trous Duke of
York, with a great Power,
Is marching hither too, and he proclaims
He comes but to remove the Duke of
Sommerset,
But most believe he secretly intends
To reap the benefit of
Cade's Rebellion.
That I am like a Ship beset with danger,
Threatned with Wracking by the Kentish Storm,
Or to be Boarded by that Pyrate,
York.
Qu.
So! so my Curse on
England springs already.
Aside.
Oh! this were Musick to me, were it not
Allay'd by the sad weeping of my Son,
Heir of these Noble Kingdoms; who, methinks,
Sighs in my Ear, Ah, Mother, for my sake
Pity the helpless King my unfortunate Father!
He was Crown'd King when he was nine Months old;
But if you do not aid him, his Misfortune
Will never suffer me to be a King.
For thy sake Princely Boy, I will assist him,
And something for his own, he's a good Man,
Though a weak King; and it was my ambition
Made
Suffolk stain his hands in innocent Blood.
Which Crime forgive me Heaven, and let the Duke
Of
Suffolk's Blood be all my Punishment.
Enter Sommerset
and Buckingham.
Buck.
Oh! fly Sir, fly, the Rebels are in
Southwark;
The Citizens through fear forsake their Houses.
The Rascal People all joyn with the Traytors,
Threatning to spoil the City, and your Court.
Som.
Take comfort, Royal Sir, we'll all stand by you.
King.
[Page 69]
Pray let as little Blood be shed as possible.
I'le send a holy Bishop to entreat e'm
To spare their Souls and Bodies; I will promise e'm
To mend my Government, for I confess,
England may yet Curse my unfortuate Reign.
Qu.
Come, Sir, take Spirit in you; Men like Buildings
Fall to the Ground, if never Fire burn in e'm
To harden e'm; King's a Royal Building,
That shou'd have no soft Clay in it at all.
Adversity has always reign'd upon you,
And made you soft; but yield not, Sir, to Rebels.
Royalty like great Beauty, must be chaste,
Rogues will have all, if once they get a taste.
Exeunt.
Epilogue.
NOw some fine things perhaps you think to bear,
But he who did reform this Play does swear
He'll not bestow rich Trappings on a Horse,
That will want Breath to run a Three-days Course;
And be turn'd off by Gallants of the Town,
For Citizens and their Wives to Hackney on.
Not that a Barb that's come of
Shackspears breed,
Can e're want Mettle, Courage, Shape, or Speed;
But you have Poetry so long rides Post,
That your delight in Riding now is lost.
And there is Reason for it I must own,
[...]'ave Foundred all the Poets in the Town.
Alas, their Strength and Courage may abate,
Ʋnder the Critique's Spur, and the Fools Weight.
And Destiny is playing wanton Tricks,
Turning the Nation round to Politiques;
The
Romish Beast has fear'd her from her Wits,
And thrown her in her old Convulsion Fits.
The same she had many Years since, 'tis said,
Then Poetry was a miserable Jade.
The Pulpit then Men fiercely did bestride,
And Musqueteers that Wooden Horse did ride.
Those damn'd Diseases by time purg'd away,
The Nation streight grew Young again and Gay.
Balls assign'd, as Masquerades and Plays,
Were all the Business of those happy Days.
You flock'd to Plays as if they Jubilees were,
Things to be seen but once in Fifty Year.
Boxes i'th' Morning did with Beauty shine,
And Citizens then in the Pit did Dine.
The Wife with her good Husband did prevail,
To bring the Sucking Bottle full of Ale.
Then on her Knees cold Capon-legs were seen,
Her Husbands Capon-legs I do not mean.
Then we were pretious things, purchas'd tis known,
By Cloaths and Suppers, but these Days are done.
Yet they will come again, Times cannot hold,
But whilst they mend, Curse on it we grow old;
Then we may all who once were your delight,
Su
[...] with Duke
Humphry as you have done to Night.
FINIS.
HENRY the Sixth. The Second Part.
OR THE MISERY OF CIVIL WAR, As it was Acted at the Dukes Theatre.
Written by Mr. CROWN.
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley, and M. Magnes, in Russel-Street, in Covent-Garden. 1681.
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PROLOGUE.
REligious Broyles to such a height are grown,
All the sweet sound of Poetry they drown.
Were
Orpheus here, his Lute might charm our Beasts,
Our Mastiffs, not our Rabble, or our Priests.
Good Heaven! Sirs! are there no other ways
To damn the Pope, but damning all our Plays?
To our Religion 'tis no Praise at all,
That, if our Wit must stand, our Faith must fall.
All parties in a Play-House may agree,
The Stage is priviledg'd from Piety.
'Tis pleasant, Sirs, to see you fight and brawl
About Religion, but have none at all.
Most fiercely for the Road to Heav'n contend,
But never care to reach the Journeys end.
Though you lose Heaven, you will keep the Way,
The Pope sha'n't have you, though the Devil may.
These things such business for the Criticks find,
They're not at leasure Poetry to mind,
Well for the Poet 'tis they're so employ'd;
Else this poor Work of his wou'd be destroy'd.
For by his feeble Skill 'tis built alone,
The Divine
Shakespear did not lay one Stone.
Besides this Tragedy a Rod will prove,
To whip us for a Fault, we too much Love,
And have for ages liv'd, call'd Civil Strife.
The
English Nation, like a
Russian Wife,
Is to a gentle Husband always curst,
And loves him best, who uses her the worst.
This Poet, (though perhaps in Colours faint)
Those scurvy Joys does in all Postures Paint
Fools take in pelting out each others Brains:
A joy, for which this Nation oft takes pains.
If any like the Ills he shews to day,
Let them be damn'd and let them damn the Play.
The Persons Represented in the Tragedy.
- KIng Henry the Sixth, Prince Edward, King Henry's Son. By Mr. Joseph Williams.
- Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, By Mr. David Williams.
- Edward, eldest Son of Richard Plantagenet, and after his Fathers death King of England, By Mr. Smith.
- George, Duke of Clarence, second Son of the Duke of York, By Mr. Bowman.
- Richard, the third Son, called Crook-back. By Mr. Gillow.
- Rutland a Child, the youngest Son.
- The Great Earl of Warwick By Mr. Batterton.
- Old Lord Clifford, By Mr. Pearcival.
- Young Clifford, his Son, By Mr. Wiltshire.
- Queen Margaret, Wife of King Henry, Mrs. Leigh.
- Lady Grey, the Widow of Sir John Grey, belov'd and at length married by King Edward the fourth, By Mrs. Batterton.
- Lady Elianor Butler, a young Lady of great quality, that was one of King Edward's Mistresses, By Mrs. Currer.
SCENE, ENGLAND.
THE MISERIES OF Civil-War.
ACT. I.
SCENE. I.
A Noise of Fighting; a Shout for Victory.
Enter Cade
and his Rabble.
Cade.
FLing all my dead Subjects into the
Thames.
Now say, what place is this?
Butch.
'Tis London-Stone.
Cade.
Then am I
Mortimer, Lord of this City;
And here, I, sitting upon
London-Stone,
Declare, this is the first day of our Reign.
So I command the Conduits all Piss Claret:
And I proclaim it Treason now for any man
To call me other than Lord
Mortimer.
Enter a Souldier running.
Sould.
Jack Cade, Jack! Jack!
Cade.
Knock down that sawcy Fellow.
A Butcher kill's him.
Butch.
If he has wit, he'll never call thy Honour Jack Cade again.
Cade.
[Page 2]
I think he has fair warning.
Enter a Cobler, with a Scrivener.
Cob.
My Lord! my Lord!
Cade.
Well said, a mannerly Fellow.
Cob.
I have catch'd a Scrivener here, setting Boyes Copies.
Cade.
Oh! there's a Villain! a corrupter of Youth.
Cob.
He has a Book in's pocket with red Letters in't.
Cade.
Then he's a Conjurer.
Cob.
He can write Bills, and Bonds, and Obligations, to bind People to undo themselves, and pay Money, whether they Can or no; such a Rogue is enough to undo a Nation.
Cade.
I'm sorry for it, for on my honour he's a proper fellow:
He shall not dye unless I find him Guilty.
Cob.
He shall die, Guilty or not Guilty; I brought him to be
Hang'd, and I will not lose my labour. I love hanging, there's
Never any hanging, but I leave my Stall to go see it.
Hanging-day is my holy-day, and I will keep Coblers holy-day.
Cade.
We'll hang him, but we'll examine him first.
Cob.
No hang him first, for now no man will confess,
Till after he's hang'd.
Cade.
I will examine him.—Sirrah! what's thy Name!
Scriv.
Emanuel.
Cob.
Emanuel!
That's a strange Name, Friend 'twill go very hard with you.
Cade.
Let me alone! Friend, dost thou write thy Name,
Or use a mark like a plain honest man?
Scriv.
Sir. I thank Heaven, I have been so well bred,
That I can write my name.
All.
He has confest,
He's a stranger, and a Villain, hang him.
Cade.
Hang him with his Pen and Ink about his Neck.
Enter others with the Lord Say
Prisoner.
My Lord, my Lord, a prize an't like thy Ho
[...]r
[...]
Here's the Lord
Say, who sold the Townes in
France,
And made us pay one and twenty Fifteens
And a shilling to the pound, last Subsidy.
Cade.
I will behead him one and twenty times.
Come scurvy Lord, what canst thou say
To our Mightiness, for giving up our Towns
To Monsieur
Basimecu, the Dolphin of
France?
Be it known unto thee, Traytor, by these presents,
[Page 3]
Even by the presence of my self, Lord
Mortimer,
That I will sweep the world clean of such filth.
Thou Trayterously hast built a Grammar-School,
To debauch all the youth, and whereas formerly
Our Grandsiers us'd no Book, but Score and Tally,
Thou hast caus'd wicked Printing to be us'd,
And contrary to the King, his Crown and Dignity,
Hast built a Paper-Mill. It will be prov'd,
That thou hast Servants talk of Nouns and Verbs,
And such vile Words no Christian er'e can here.
Thou hast appointed Justices of Peace,
To call poor men before 'em, about matters
They cou'd not answer; yes, and thou hast hang'd 'em,
Because they cou'd not read.
Cob.
There was a Villain!
Cade.
Thou rid'st upon a foot-cloth, dost thou not?
Say.
Well what of that?
Cade.
Why is it not a shame
Thy Horse shou'd weare a Cloak, when honest men
Go in their Hose and Doublets?
Say.
Well, I find
You men of
Kent—
All.
What of us men of
Kent?
Say.
That
Kent is,
bona terra mala gens.
Cade.
Bold Traytor, he speaks Latin in my presence.
Go hang him, hang him.
Say.
Hear me, Country-men.
Cade.
Hear Latin! Villain? hang him.
All.
Hang him, hang him.—
They drag him away.
Butch.
We'll hang up every man that can speak Latin.
Cade.
Well counsel'd
Butcher, counsel'd like a
Butcher.
We will, and more, for they are but few.
Tay.
We'll hang up any man that can speak
French.
For I'm a
Taylour, and there is no man
That can speak
French will let me work a stitch for 'em.
Cob.
We'll hang up all the Lords and Gentlemen.
Spare none but such as go in clouted shoes;
For I'm a Cobler, and live by those.
Tayl.
But by your favour, Sir, I am a
Taylor
And, Sir, I live by Lords and Gentlemen;
I only wou'd hang those that owe me money,
And will not pay me.
Cade.
Why, thou stiching Coxcomb!
We will be Lords and Gentlemen our selves.
Tayl.
Oh! that's another thing.
Cade.
[Page 4]
Another thing!
What do we fight for else, you silly Rascal?
Cob.
'Tis true, my Lord, we ought to be Great-men,
For it is said, Labour in thy Vocation:
That is, let Magistrates be labouring-men,
Therefore we lab'ring men ought to be Magistrates;
And I will be Lord Cobler, and a Counsellor.
Carp.
I'le be Lord
Carpenter, for 'tis a shame
That none of the Kings Council are good Workmen.
Cob.
The Lords, forsooth scorn to wear leather Aprons.
Cade.
We'll make 'em glad to go in leather Aprons.
Butch.
We'll stick 'em all, and we'll be Lords our selves.
Tayl.
I'll be contented to be but a Knight.
Cob.
Shall we not spare the Lords that are our friends,
Such as thy Cousin
Plantagenet, and others?
Cade.
No Lord is our Friend, you Fool, they meerly chouse us.
Butch.
How! meerly chouse us?
Cade.
I say meerly chouse us.
All the fine words and money that they give us
Is nothing else but buying of Calves-heads.
Butch.
My Cleaver then shall chouse 'em of their Brains.
Cade.
When they have done with us, they'l turn us off.
Butch.
Here are brave Knaves.
Tayl.
His Honour understands 'em.
Cob.
I Gad, my Lord's a devilish parlous Fellow.
Prethee, my Lord, what ail's these plaguy Lords
To keep this coyl, when they have a power o' money,
Brave Lands, and gallant Wenches to their Wives?
Cade.
I'll tell thee
Tom the Cobler, here's my shoe;
Dost thou believe my shoe, if it had wit,
Wou'd carry me up and down all day i'th dirt;
Or dost thou think my Breeches wou'd be sat on,
Or Doublet cloath my Back, and by that means
Be often cudgell'd, if they had any wit;
No, if they had any wit, they would be Caps.
Cob.
True, but thy worship's Cap is sometimes cudgell'd:
I have known thy Honour have a broken pate.
Cade.
Ay but pride feels no hurt; so some great Lords
Are trodden under foot like dirty shoes,
Some hang like Doublets on the Nations back,
And some like Breeches only on the tayl.
But by their good wills they would all be Caps,
And so wou'd you my friends if you be wise.
Cob.
We'll all be Caps.
All.
All Caps, all Caps, all Caps.
Cade
[Page 5]
If you'll be Caps, hang all Lords and Gentlemen,
And all rich Citizens.
Butch.
How, all rich Citizens?
Prithee my Lord, they are my particular Friends,
They buy more Meat, than all the Lords in
England.
And then they promise they'll do great things for us,
If we will help 'em to redress their Grievances.
Cad.
Butcher, those promises are but a meer cheat,
These men puff thee, just as thou blowst thy Veal,
Only to make thee swell for their own ends.
Butch.
Are they such Knaves?
Cade.
Oh they are notorious Knaves,
They cheat the Town, their Wives, themselves, and us.
They sit up nightly a Plotting, and Caballing,
So cheat their Wives of due benevolence,
They leave their Shops a-days, for State-Affairs,
So cheat themselves of money they might get,
And cheat the Town of Trade that it might have,
And last they mean to cheat us of our Necks,
Put us on Plots for them, then have us hang'd.
Now my good subjects we are bound in Conscience,
To take their Wives and give 'em due Benevolence,
To take their Shops, and give the Town it's due,
To hang the men, and give the Rope it's due,
And so we shall be very honest fellows.
All.
Ay, Ay, we shall be very honest fellows.
Cob.
In short we'll ha' no Trades but Eating, and Drinking. We'll have seven half-penny Loaves For a Farthing, and a Pint-pot shall hold a Gallon; and so let us about our hanging work.
Cade.
Go, Subjects, go, but pray remember one thing,
To hang the Lawyers when your hand is in.
Cob.
I warrant thee, my Lord, we'll hang the Lawyers
But now I think on't they wear out
Abundance of Shoo-leather in going to
West-Minster-Hall, and employ Coblers much.
Besides they help to undo Lords, and Gentlemen.
But now I think on't we can undo 'em
Fast enough our selves, by burning their Houses,
And taking their Lands. The Lawyers
Have a sure way of undoing 'em, but it's more tedious,
Ours is most quick, and as sure;
So we shall have no use o'the Lawyers,
And so lets hang 'em.
And for that reason too
[Page 6]
Let's hang the Doctors and Pothecaries.
For though they do kill Gentry pretty well,
Yet we have a better, quicker way;
By knocking 'em o' the head.
Cade.
Subjects, hang the Doctors and Pothecaries, but
Hang the Lawyers first, for fear they
Hang you—for when you have had
A thousand broken heads, and settled all things,
As right as you wou'd wish, a Roguy Lawyer
Will ruine all again with a meer quirk.
Cob.
A quirk! what's a quirk?
Cade.
—A quirk—why 'tis a quirk—
Cob.
Well, but what is a quirk?
Butch.
What's matter what a quirk is? I know
What my Lord means by quirk.
Cob.
Do you so, Sir: Then you are a Scholar are
You? Sir, as little learning as this has made
Many a man a Priest, you deserve to have
Your brains beaten out.
Butch.
My brains?
Cade.
Hold Cobler and Butcher! Civil VVars
Among our selves.
Cob.
I hate Scholars, I will have no man live
Among us that knows more than I.
But I wou'd know what a quirk is.
Cade.
Dost know what an Awl is?
Cob.
I think I do.
Cade.
Then as thou borest holes in shoes with
Thy Awl to mend 'em, Lawyers with quirks bore
Holes in Estates to mar 'em.
Cob.
Oh! Oh!
Cade.
For this, and other reasons hang the Lawyers.
They strive to make the Subjects break the Law,
And then they make the Law break all the Subjects,
And cunningly they make such rotten Laws,
That men must break 'em all spite of their Teeth,
We send (you know) sometimes men to make Laws,
And there these men sit hatching Laws and Laws,
And as they think hatch found and wholesome Laws▪
A plaguy Lawyer gets his finger in,
And put's such scurvy quirks into the Law,
That when 'tis hatch'd, I Gad the rotten Law
Fall's all to pieces like a pocky Child.
Butch.
[Page 7]
There are pure Knaves for you, since they
Are for quirks,
We'll go and put such quirks in the Inns of Court
Shall tumble them all down about their ears.
Cade.
Do, honest subjects, do.
Cob.
We will, my Lord.
And prithee let thy mouth be all the Law.
Cade.
Cobler well said, my mouth shall be the Law,
For all the Law of
England is but mouth;
When you are at law, it is not the best cause,
But the best mouth that always carries it.
Cob.
Prithee let thy mouth be
Westminster-Hall,
And my mouth shall be
Paul's:
For we ha' no use o' Churches, nor Steeples,
Nor Priests, the chief use o' Priests is to eat
Pig, we can eat Pig as well as they.
Cade.
We have no use o' the Inns of Court, or Tower,
Pluck down the Tower, and burn all the Records,
Why shou'd we keep
Mouldy Records of what our Grandsiers did?
For we do what we will for all our Grandsiers
On
London bridge hang Traytours heads, and quarters.
These are Records too, but who minds Records?
Burn all Records—Records?
All.
Burn all Records.
Cade.
Who sounds a parley there?
Enter a Souldier.
Soul.
One from the King.
Cade.
Well let him come, I don't care if I speak with him.
Enter Old Lord Clifford.
Well what's thy business with me?
Old Cl.
Thou vile Rebel,
VVhy dost thou thus disturb the King, and Kingdome?
Cade.
Thou Fool, to have my own, I'm heir to the Crown.
Old Cl.
Impudent Slave, thy Father was a Plaisterer.
Cob.
Yes, and his Mother was a Midwife, what's that?
Cade.
VVell,
Adam was a Gardiner, what's that?
[...]ay, did not
Edmund Mortimer, Earl of
March
[Page 8]
Marry the Daughter o' the Duke of
Clarence?
Old Cl.
He did, Sir Clown, and what is that to you?
Cade.
By her he had two Children at a Birth;
The Elder of 'em being put to Nurse,
Was stole away by a stinking Beggar-woman,
(Like a damn'd cursed jade) and by that means
The Princely Infant was bred up a Brick-layer,
And I'm the Princely Off-spring of that Infant.
Old Cl.
Plantagenet invented this fine story.
Cade.
You lye, for I invented it my self.
Old Cl.
I am sent by the King to offer pardon
To all that will forsake thee, and go home.
VVhat say you Countrymen, will you be happy
And leave this Rogue, or follow him and be hang'd?
All.
I don't know what to think on't?
All mutter.
Cade.
Are you muttering?
VVhy, you damn'd fools, will you believe a Lord?
Do they not often run into your Debts,
And promise payment, and ne're keep their words?
Do they not often with fine promises
Delude your Daughters, and when they have enjoyed them,
Do they e're keep their words? Then follow me.
All.
A
Cade, a
Cade! we'll follow thee,
Jack Cade.
Old. Cl.
You'll follow
Cade? pray whither, to the Gallows?
He has no other home to lead you to.
He knows not how to live but by the spoil;
But say that whilst you robb and kill your Country-men,
The fearful
French whom you but lately vanquisht,
Shou'd make a start o're Seas and vanquish you;
Had you not better go and spoil the
French,
And the King pay you too for your good service,
Than here Rebel, and the King hang you all
For Rogues, or worse, the
French come make you slaves?
All.
I don't know what to think on't—
All mutter.
Cade.
Again muttering?
VVho'll ever trust such cursed whifling Rascals?
Enter young Clifford
and Followers.
Yo. Cl.
What are you doing, my Lord? treating with Rascals?
It were too vile an Office for a Scavenger,
To sweep such dirt into the Common shore?
And are you treating with 'em? Nay, and treating
In the Kings name too? very fine indeed,
The King must barter for his Crown with Rascals,
[Page 9]
What ever price the Villains make him pay,
Though his Crown shou'd be dear, himself is cheap,
I with no Tongue but this will talk to Rebels.
Draws, all fight on the Stage. Ex. The Scene a Tent. Enter King Henry.
Hen.
Never had King less joy in Throne than I,
Nor more misfortune. Heaven was pleas'd to set
My Cradle on the top of humane Glory,
Where I lay helpless, open to all Storms.
My Childish hand, not able to support
My Fathers Sword, dropt the victorious point,
And let fall all the Lawrels that adorn'd it,
And
French and
English fell a scrambling for 'em,
So lost I
France; now am I threatned too
By wicked Rebels, with the loss of
England.
Cade and his Rebels drive me from my City,
Plantagenet seek's to drive me from my Kingdom.
Enter the Queen, and her Train.
Qu.
Take comfort, Sir, I bring you happy tidings.
The Villain
Cade is kill'd by brave young
Clifford.
Hen.
Kill'd!
Qu.
Kill'd, and all the Rebels beg your mercy.
Hen.
Oh! Heav'n accept my vows of thanks and praise.
But ha! here comes his gallant Father weeping.
Enter Old Clifford.
Ol. Cl.
Yes Sir, I weep, but I weep tears of Joy,
For I am crush'd between two mighty Joyes;
Your Royal safety, and my Sons success.
But here he is, to tell you his own story.
Enter Young Clifford.
Yo. Cl.
Sir, I most humbly here present your Majesty
The Head of the notorious Rebel
Cade.
Hen.
Oh! Gallant
Clifford, how shall I reward thee?
Yo. Cl.
I fought not for rewards, or if I did,
I ought to end my work, e're I be paid,
I have only now pull'd down a paltry Scaffold,
On which
Plantagenet design'd to climbe,
To build his Trayt'rous Projects.
Hen.
[Page 10]
True indeed,
He is approaching me with a great Army;
But he gives out he only does intend
To drive away from me some wicked Ministers.
Yo. Cl.
The constant vizard of Rebellion.
Rebellion is so foul and grim a Monster,
That those that mount the horrid Beast, are forc'd
To cover it all o're with gaudy Trappings.
They mark it in the Forehead with white starrs,
Pretences Heavenly, and Innocent.
Qu.
Sir, he has told you a most excellent truth.
Hen.
I must confess I like not to have Subjects
Present their Kings Petitions upon Pikes.
Old Cl.
Sir, let the Rebels come, we are prepar'd.
Enter an Officer.
Offi.
A Trumpet from
Plantagenet craves audience.
Hen.
Admit him.
Enter the Trumpet.
Trum.
Royal Sir, the Duke my master
Does beg admission to your Kingly presence,
To give you the true Reason of his arming,
And prove his Loyalty.
Qu.
Just as we thought.
Hen.
Go tell my Cousin, since he speaks so fair,
He shall have free access and all kind usage.
Exit. Trum.
Old Cl.
What do you mean Sir?
Hen.
To throw far from my self
The guilt of all the ill that may ensue.
He shall not say that I refus'd to hear,
Or to redress any just grievances.
Y. Cl.
Sir, you will find your self will be the grievance.
The Tricks of these ambitious men are, first
To poison all the People with disloyalty,
And when they have made 'em sick, they tell 'em nothing
Can cure 'em but some flowers out of the Crown;
And so they set the rabble raving for 'em.
Qu.
Lord
Clifford when the haughty rebel come's
Arrest him of High-Treason.
Old. Cl.
I will do it, Madam.
Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Richard, George: Plant.
kneels, and kisses the Kings Hand.
Hen.
Welcome dear Cousin. Pray acquaint me faithfully,
What do you mean by all the Troops you bring?
Pl.
Only to drive some Traytours from your presence.
Qu.
I know no greater Traytors than your self.
Old Cl.
And therefore I arrest thee of High-Treason.
Pl.
Arrest me! ha! Shall it be thus King
Henry?
Hen.
It shall not be, I promis'd him safe Conduct.
Edw.
My Lord, we'll be your Bail.
Pl.
See, I have Bail.
Lord
Clifford, in whose name do you Arrest me?
Old Cl.
In the Kings Name.
Pl.
Then I'll unfold my self.
Know hitherto I've been like a dark Cloud,
Where scorching heat has been ingendring Thunder:
The grumbling and the rowling you have heard,
But now the deadly bolt shall light among you.
I am your King.
Hen.
Ha!
Pl.
Yes, I am Your King.
I'm sprung out of the Royal house of
Clarence,
Whom three usurpers of the house of
Lancaster
Successively have trodden under feet,
Whilst they have glittered in our Royal Glory,
Shone like false Diamonds in our royal Robes.
Q.
Now, Sir, are we convinc'd we told you truth.
Pl.
And my next Title is the only Claim;
Duke
Henry, (for I'll call him now no otherwise.)
Duke
Henry borrows from his bloody Grand Father
Henry the Fourth, I've twenty thousand men,
But with this difference,
Henry's Troops were Villains
Deposers of their lawful Sov'reign
Richard,
Mine are defenders of their true King
Richard,
I mean my self.
Hen.
Was ever such Ambitious
Frenzy as this?
Y. Cl.
Did not we tell you this?
Ed.
And we will tell you more, obey your King
I mean my Royal Father, or our Swords
Shall turn the Arrest of Treason on your-selves.
Old Cl.
Surely you think you are among your Beauties,
[Page 12]
Amorous
Edward, there your Vigour lies.
Q.
Let them admire thy boasts, here thou art scorn'd.
Ed.
'Tis said when the brave Duke of
Suffolk liv'd,
Queen
Margaret would not contemn a Lover.
I'm young, and love, but yet I am not stricken
So blind with beauty, but I can discern
Both the fair Kingdom, and the fair Queen lye
Sick of the impotence of a Weak King.
Qu.
Ill manner'd insolence!
Rich.
Why do you talk
To this poor wretched
Neapolitan?
She and her Husband are fit for each other;
He has no heart, and she no heart for him.
Fortune loathed him as soon as e're she saw him,
Nor from his Cradle never wou'd endure him,
And her she never did think worth her care.
Qu.
Why! well said ugly Crook-back! spoken like
Thy hideous horrid self:
I will not do thee so much good to kill thee.
Thy Soul cannot be worse than where it is.
Hen.
He bears about him what is more deform'd
Than humane shape can be, his wickedness.
Pl.
I've shewed my right, and here are my three Sons
To plead it with their Swords, now I'll produce
My last and strongest Title to the Crown,
The sword of the victorious Earl of
Warwick.
Call in the Earl of
Warwick.
Enter VVarwick.
War.
I am here
Pl.
Inform the ignorant world who is King of
England,
War.
Whom my sword pleases.
Hen.
Thou against me
Warwick!
What did'st thou never swear Allegiance to me?
War.
'Cause I adored an idol once in ignorance,
Must I still do so, now I see my error?
Know Duke of
Lancaster (for you are no more)
Henry your Grand Father murdered his King
[...]ichard the second, not content with that,
[...]e trampled on the rights of the next heirs.
[...]our Father warlick
Henry, I confess,
[...]ad in desert what he did want in Title.
[...]ut merit makes no lawful claim to Crowns,
[...]r if it did, I wou'd be King of
England.
[Page 13]
But I will tell you to your face, Duke
Henry;
That you have neither Title nor Desert:
Qu.
Most impudent of Traytours.
Old Cl.
Most impudent of Traytours.
Y. Cl.
Most impudent of Traytours.
War.
I'll speak truth,
And value not the fury of you all.
Your Father
Henry was a Wall of steel
Through which there was no passing to the throne,
But you are only a soft silken Curtain,
Which with my hand or breath I'll put aside,
And seat your self King
Richard in the Throne,
For it is empty though the Duke be there,
The Duke is nothing, or such poor thin soft stuff
The Crown sinks down in him, and is not seen.
Yo. Cl.
What, have these Traytours conquer'd us already,
They talk at this bold rate? Thou Traytour
Warwick!—
Warwick? no!—when thou didst unking thy King
Thou mad'st thy self a Groom; by the same law,
Thou tramplest on thy King, a sawcy Groom
May set his dirty foot upon thy jaws,
And tell thee they were made both of one Clay.
War.
The duke of
Lancaster's no King of mine.
Y. Cl.
VVhence hast thou this? from Lawyers, and from Scriblers?
Say, the King's Grand-father Murther'd his King
And damn'd his Soul for it, what's that to thee?
Say, our prosterity shou'd wrong each other,
VVhat must their Servants cudgel 'em to honesty?
Oh! But old stories censure the King's Title;
Are royal Robes made of such raggs as Pamphlets?
Yes, when a beggar feign wou'd put 'em on,
One that wou'd beg the Kingdom from the people,
And such a beggar is
Plantagenet.
Oh! but the lawyers like not the Kings Title:
VVhat shall the lawyers be the Kingdoms Oracles,
And judge their Kings, who speak but as inspir'd
By the Kings Image stampt upon his Gold?
Let the King give 'em store of golden Pictures
And they will give him a substantial title.
And then the Noble-men must be the Bayliffs
To execute the sentence of the Coyfe.
Damn thy pedantick Treason; thou art as far
From wit as honour, and that's far enough.
VVho stopps a River's head up, drie's the stream;
Thou hast divided thy self from thy King,
[Page 14]
The spring of honour, so thou hast no honour.
But art a heap of dirty pesantry,
Fit only to manure a brave mans fortune;
A straying Beast, with the Devil's mark upon thee,
Rebellion, and I'll send thee to thy owner.
Ed.
What a fierce talker's this?
War.
I laugh at him;
All this loud noise and fury you have heard,
Is but the crackling of some burning thorns,
That hedge the Duke, and they will soon be ashes.
Pl.
No more Duke
Henry, will you yield my Crown,
Or shall we fall upon you?
Hen.
Must it be so?
Let us not bloodily Butcher one another;
But fairly to the field, and there in Battle
Make an Appeal to Heaven.
Pl.
With all my heart.
Y. Cl.
Then royal
Henry, fixt on loyal
Clifford,
Stand like a
Cedar on a Mountain top
Securely rooted, and despise all storms.
Hen.
My cause is fixt on Heav'n, for it is just.
War.
Then sound to Armes.
All.
To Armes, to Armes, to Armes.—
Exit
ACT II.
An Alarm.
Enter Warwick
and Souldiers chasing others over the Stage. Enter Plantagenet,
and Old Clifford
fighting.— Old Clifford
falls.
P
FArewell, old valiant
Clifford, I shou'd now
Be sorry for thee, wer't thou not my Enemy.
Ex.
Old Cl.
Be sorry for thy self, thou art a Traytour,
And I for loyalty die honourably.
Enter Young Clifford.
Y. Cl.
Shame and Confusion, all is on the rout.
My men are fled or kill'd, and I alone
Stand like a lofty Mast, shewing my head
Above the Waves, when all the Ship is sunk,
I cannot find my Father nor my King.
Old. Cl.
[Page 15]
Son!
Yo. Cl.
I heard a voice resembling much
My Fathers, very weak and faint it seemed,
As he were far from me, or near to death.
Old Cl.
Son!
Yo. Cl.
Ha! again he calls! Oh! there he lyes!
All weltring in his gore, gasping for life.
Oh! Father! Father! if thou hast breath enough,
Leave with me but the name of him that wounded thee
That I may give thee and my self revenge,
And I'll prefer that glorious Legacy,
Before the Estate and Honour which thou leav'st me
Ol. Cl.
Plantagenet gave me my death!—Farewel—
Dyes.
Y. Cl.
Plantagenet gave thee thy death—
Plantagenet
Then gave himself and all his race destruction.
He kills our old men, and I'll kill his Children.
Henceforth I will not have to do with pitty,
Tears shall be to me as the dew to fire,
I will be famous for inhumane cruelty,
My Father hear's me not, he's dead! he's gone.
Come thou new ruin of Old
Clifford's house,
I'll bear thee on my shouldiers as
Aeneas
Did old
Anchises, but with this sad difference,
He bore a living Father, mine is dead,
And so my burden and my grief is heavier.
He takes his Father on his back, and going out meets the King, Queen, and Souldiers.
Q.
Away, away, Sir, what do you mean to stay?
All's lost, you have no safety but in flight.
Hen.
My heart's so heavy that I cannot flye.
Q.
Ha! who goes there?
Clifford thou art, I think.
Yo. Cl.
I am.
Qu.
What burden hast thou on thy shoulders.
Yo. Cl.
I carry vengeance for
Plantagenet.
Hen.
Plantagenet dead?
Yo. Cl.
A braver honester man,
My valiant loyal Father.
Hen.
Clifford dead?
Yo. Cl.
Kill'd by
Plantagenet.
Qu.
Take comfort,
Clifford.
We'll streight to
London, where we have pow'r enough
To revenge our selves and thee, and to assist us.
The Parliament shall meet and raise the Kingdom.
Yo. Cl.
[Page 16]
For your revenge raise Kingdoms and for mine,
I'll raise my self, and I'll have bloody Vegeance,
I'll kill
Plantagenet, and all his Sons
That when he is dead he may not have a Son.
To bear him to the grave, as I my Father;
And so cut off his memory from the Earth,
Meet I but any Infants of his House,
Into as many gobbits will I cut 'em
As wild
Medea did the young
Absyrtis,
And I will starve my men that they may eat 'em,
And so let us about our several business.
Exit.
A Shout of Victory. Enter at one door Warwick,
at another Plantagenet, Edward, Richard,
Souldiers. Plantagenet
embraces VVarwick.
Pl.
Let me embrace the greatest man that breaths.
War.
Pray cease, my Lord, you know this does not please me.
Edw.
England will learn again to Fight and Conquer,
A glorious science we have almost lost,
Under the reign of this tame bookish
Henry.
War.
What is become of the young boasting
Clifford?
Fate as if tender of him, did to day,
VVhen e're I met him, thrust a crowd betwixt us.
Pl.
I met his Father in the field; and there
I put the brave old man to his last bed.
The stout old winter Lyon, that had long
Endur'd the brush of time, fought with that heat,
As he had been but in the spring of youth.
Like arras-hangings in a homely house,
So was his gallant Spirit in his body.
Edw.
Whilst we pursued the horsemen o' the North,
With too much heat, the King escap'd our hands;
But he has left behind some of his friends,
I fell upon the gallant Duke of
Buckingham,
And with one fortunate substantial blow,
I cleft his good steel Helmet, and his Scull,
And see, his Brains are yet upon my Sword.
Rich.
To speak the truth, my Brother
Edward fought
To day, as if he had fought for a Mistress.
Ed.
I must confess, I fought with more dispatch;
'Cause had the Battle lasted, 'twou'd have spoil'd
An assignation that I have to night.
Rich.
Did not I say as much?
Pl.
Thou, good Son
Richard,
Dost not disturb thy heart with cares of love.
Rich.
[Page 17]
The hill upon my back fence's my heart;
The women love not me, so I hate them.
War.
We have all cut our names deep on the Pillars
Of Fame's high Temple, where shall be for ever
Written this glorious Battle at S.
Albons.
Now, my Lord, post away with speed to
London,
For thither I am told the King is Fled,
And there he will repair this day's wide breaches.
Citizens always love Tame Godly Princes,
And such as abhor fighting like themselves.
Then, if you can, enter the Town before 'em,
And fill it with your Troops; and then to morrow
Get very early into the Parliament House,
And guarded well, openly claim the Crown.
My Tongue and Sword shall both assert your Title.
Then let me see, what Peer dare be so bold,
Or Common so sawcy, to oppose it.
Pl.
Thou Soul of valour, Wisdom, and Nobility,
I'll take thy Counsel.
War.
Go then march with speed,
I'll tarry for a moment to take care
For any of quality that are dead or wounded.
Ex. Plantagenet, Richard
one way, Warwick
another:
Edw.
I well approve this speedy March to
London,
For there to Night I hope to meet my Mistress.
Ex. Edward,
Enter two bearing a Body, Warwick
meets 'em.
War.
Whose Body is that?
'Tis Sir
John Grey of
Grooby.
War.
A fierce bigot for the
Lancastrian Faction.
I've heard of him, and whither do you carry him?
2.
To his fair Widow; she had only news
He had some wounds, and so came in her Chariot
To carry him away with her, but all
Her care is now too late; see here she is.
Enter Lady Grey
attended.
La. Gr.
Where is my Husband? I am impatient for him.
1.
We have found him, Madam, in a state too bad
For you to look on.
L. Gr.
Oh! he's dead! he's dead!
2.
Help! help! she's falling on him dead as he.
War.
I never saw so beautiful a Creature.
[Page 12]
[...]
[Page 13]
[...]
[Page 14]
[...]
[Page 15]
[...]
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[...]
[Page 17]
[...]
1.
[Page 18]
She is come to her self,
War.
But I'm so lost,
That I shall never be my self again.
La. Gr.
Oh! my dear Husband!
War.
See! see! she embalmes
His Body with her pretious Tears and Kisses.
I know not to what place his Soul is fled;
But I am sure his Body is in Heaven.
Forms, Ceremonies, Civil Fooleries,
Insects engendred of corrupt false Wit.
I will ride o're you in my way to joy;
Though this is the first time I ever saw her,
And she lies drown'd in Tears o're her dead Husband
Drown'd in his blood, shed may be by my self;
Yet here, and now I'll tell her that I Love;
And here, and now resolve to make her mine.
Madam, your pardon that I interrupt you.
La. Gr.
Who are you, Sir?
War,
You, Madam, best can tell,
When I came hither I was Earl of
Warwick;
But you have chang'd me to I know not what.
La. Gr.
The Earl of
Warwick! Oh! my Lord I beg you,
Conjure you by the Honour of a Nobleman,
That you permit a miserable Woman
To give her Husbands Body decent Burial.
War.
Madam, with all my heart; and I cou'd wish
He had been buried when he first saw light,
And never liv'd to do Prodigious mischiefs.
La. Gr.
What wondrous mischiefs dying for his King?
War.
Oh! he has done more ill, than Frantick
Alexander
When he set fair
Persepolis o' Fire,
Or him that burnt the fam'd
Ephesian Temple.
La. Gr.
Who did all this?
War.
He, whom Heav'n there has punisht,
And did it, Madam, by enjoying you,
By kindling in your heart love for himself,
He fir'd a stately Palace, only fit
For hearts of mighty Kings, He burnt a Temple
The master piece of Nature, the Worlds wonder.
La. Gr.
Is this fit talk to one in my condition?
War.
I know old Tyrant Custom does command
You Widows to be stretch'd on the long rack
Of twelve months mournful abstinence from love.
And, which methinks is an immodest fashion,
You must wear black the colour of the night,
To put you in remembrance of the pleasure.
Night for your service pays you no more Wages,
[Page 19]
Yet you in gratitude must wear Nights livery.
And you must sigh and weep to tell the World
What skill you have in man, for who e're weeps
For loss of that whose value they ne're knew?
Fy! what ill woman brought up those ill Customs?
La. Gr.
What horrid insolence you treat me with?
Enter one running.
1.
My Lord, the Enemy begins to rally.
War.
Go fight 'em, for I'm busily employ'd.
Enter a Second.
2.
Mount, mount, my Lord, or you'l be taken Prisoner.
War.
I am a Prisoner, nor can stir from hence;
Unless this beauty with a smile release me.
La. Gr.
Grief, Horror, and Confusion put me again
Into a deadly Fainting.
War.
I perceive
Formality the Governess of Women,
And Custom the great Tyrant of the World
Are married in the Temple of this beauty.
Take with you then your pale Companion,
And pay to it the Tax of some Months tears,
And lock your self in solitude and darkness,
But after that by my renown and fortune,
By this days victory, by that great power,
By which I to the King say, be a Subject;
And to a Subject I say, be a King.
I swear I shortly will say to my self,
Warwick, be thou Possessour of this beauty.
I'll have you, though you hate, and Heaven envy me,
And the first joy I reap cost me my life.
La. Gr.
In spight of me I am compel'd to speak,
I swear by the dead body of my Husband,
By my unspotted fame most sacred to me,
I rather will chuse death than any man,
But I'll chuse Hell e're you.
War.
Cruelly sworn;
But yet such Oaths are heriots, which Widows
To custom always pay, when a life falls.
The world expects to have 'em pay such fines,
E're they renew another life in love.
Then, Madam, take your fallen tenement,
[Page 20]
And pay all custom'd dues, you have your freedom.
And for your safety all my guard shall wait you.
La. Gr.
Though paying rights of burial to my husband
Be all that I desire to do on Earth,
E're I will be oblig'd to you for any thing,
I'll dye upon him and be all his monument.
War.
Oh Beauteous Monument! all men wou'd d
[...]e
To be so buried!—envy will not suffer me
To let the dead have so much happiness,
Therefore I'll take my leave.
La. Gr.
The only favour
I will receive, or can endure from you.
War.
Take it, one kindness oft begets another,
Farewel, most cruel, but most beauteous creature.
La. Gr.
Farewel most rude and most abhorr'd of men.
War.
[Softly to his men.]
Guard her safe hence, but do not let her know it,Lest she refuse it, and shou'd meet with injury.
Ex.
Scene a Room in London, Table, Lights.
Enter Edward
pulling in Lady Ellanor Butler.
L. El.
Oh! do not tempt me, for I know
You will be false.
Ed.
Well but I know I shall not.
L. El.
Oh! to how many women have you sworn
As much as you ha' done to me to night?
Ed.
Oh is there not great difference among VVom
[...]n?
Some Women are but petty Inns to lodg at,
And though perhaps rather than want a lodging,
We wou'd pay all they ask, though most unreasonable:
But if they wou'd pay me, I wou'd not dwell with 'em;
But your sweet beauty is my journey's end.
L. El.
Oh! yes till you begin another journey.
Ed.
Besides the many thousand Charmes about you,
From which it is impossible to 'scape,
Your Birth and Quality will not permit me
To trifle with you as with trifling women,
I dare not but regard Lady
Elianor Butler.
L. El.
But when you have enjoy'd Lady
Elianour Butler,
She'l seem as very a trisle as the rest.
Ed.
Then what a perjur'd Villain must I be?
L. El.
VVhen you are Prince of
Wales, perhaps you'l think
The Prince of
Wales is not obliged to keep
Lord
Edwards Oaths, and when I follow you,
[Page 21]
You will cry, Madam, I am Prince of
Wales,
And I must marry for the Nation's good;
I'm very sorry I am forc'd to lose you,
But pardon me, it is the Nation's fault.
So, Madam, I'm your very humble Servant,
If I can serve you any way, command you;
Then instead of being made Princesse of
Wales
I sneak away poor cheated
Elianor Butler.
Ed.
Well this is very unkind to make me throw
So sweet a Night so foolishly away.
I thought you wou'd have given me a clear draught
Of Love without the dreggs of Oaths and Vows.
L. El.
Oh! you are too charming not to be belov'd,
And when once lov'd, not to be lov'd for ever.
I know I've not desert to keep you constant;
And 'tis enough for me that you once lov'd me,
To blame you that you will not love me always,
as a beggar blam'd a Prince, for giving him
Only one Jewel. No one Woman merit's
Your Love, so you divide it among all.
But oh! methinks I feign wou'd have it alle
And have it always.
Ed.
So I swear you shall.
Then come away, for night is stealing from us,
Weary with holding up her sable Robe,
To hide two loytring lovers to no purpose.
Then come away.
L. El.
Oh swear to me once more.
Ed.
I'll swear no more, whil'st we by foolish Oaths▪
Secure delights to come, we lose the present.
Then come away, for else I shall be call'd.
Oh Heaven's! see! the day is broke already.
The vast and heavy business of a Kingdom
Heave up the scale of Morn before it's time.
Oh! come away for fear I be undone.
L. El.
Oh! do not ask for fear I be undone.
Knocking
Ed.
Hark! I hear knocking! I am call'd, I'm ruin'd.
Enter the waiting Woman.
Wo.
My Lord! here is your Brother my Lord
Richard
Is come to fetch you to the Parliament,
He says, your Father's going thither already.
Ed.
Did not I tell you, Love, what you wou'd do?
Confound my Lord
Richard, tell him I'm not here.
Wo.
He says you are here, and he'l not part with you.
Ed.
[Page 22]
So, we have manag'd our occasion finely.
Was this well done of you?
L. El.
You may forgive me,
Since I'm almost as sorry as you are.
Ed.
Then will you mend the fault another time?
L. El.
I fancy I shall do my weak endeavour.
Rich. within.
Why, Brother!—
Ed.
Heark he calls! I must be gone,
Farewel, my dear, remember what you have promis'd.
L. El.
Remember you your Vows of constancy.
Rich. within.
Brother, what do you mean? leave your damn'd Women,
For I'm sure 'tis some damn'd Woman stays you.
But for my part I'll stay no longer for you.
For I will not be chidden for your faults,
My Father, and his Friends shall know how it is.
Ed.
Thank thee, good natur'd honest vertuous Brother;
How proud this Leper is of one sound place?
Though he has all the vices in the world,
Yet he insults o're me, because he is free
From my one fault, my almost faultless fault.
He is a Hell at whose foul front appears,
Ill manners, and ill nature, and ill shape,
Like a three-headed Dog, that barks at all things
That dare come near him, specially at beauty;
But has within a thousand ugly Haggs
His Soul embraces, bloody cruelty,
Lean envy, and insatiable Ambition.
And he has this advantage over me,
His Mistresses are Devils, and so invisible.
Some time or other I'll descend like
Hercules
Into this Hell, and dragg to humane sight
The Monster that so barks at my delight.
Ex.
Scene the Parliament House, a Throne, Canopy, Seats for the Lords.
Enter Plantagenet, George, Richard, Warwick, Clarence, Rutland,
Guard all with drawn Swords.
War,
This is the palace of the fearful King,
And this the Regal Seat;
Richard Plantagenet,
Sit down, and from this hour be King of
England.
Pl.
I think if mighty
Warwick said, be Emperour
Of the whole world, the
Genii of all Kingdoms
Wou'd vanish and give place to his great spirit.
[Page 23]
Assisted then by thee, I here sit down,
Sits in the Throne.
And take possession of my Royal Right.
War.
I plant you here, now Root you up who dares.
Enter Edward,
Pl.
Wheres my Son
Edward? 'S'wound's! why loiter you?
War.
Sir, why do you neglect your Father thus?
Ed.
Reprov'd by
Warwick? what does
Warwick cheat us?
Aside.
Give us a Crown to cheat us of our liberty?
Hire us to be his slaves? so soon so arrogant?
This humour I must quell, I cannot bear it.
Pl.
Sons, I here take possession of my right,
And will be Crown'd or kill'd: —if I shou'd fall,
Son
Edward, claim the Crown, if you fall with me,
Then,
George, the Crown is thine, if both you dye,
Then,
Richard, thou art King.
War.
Three goodly Pillars,
Pl.
And last in birth but not in my Affection.
Here is my litle pretty darling
Rutland,
Look to him, Guard, for if his brothers Perish,
He is your King; fear not my pretty Boy.
We'll be too hard for wretched timerous
Henry.
Rut.
Sir, let him come, and all his Souldiers with him.
If you will beat his Souldiers, I'll beat him.
Pl.
Well said my boy; and heark; I think he comes.
Enter King Henry
in his Robes, his Crown on his head, the Sword born before him, Attended by Clifford, Northumberland, Westmorland, Exeter,
in their Robes.
Hen.
My Lords, look where the sturdy Rebel sits.
War.
Look where your King is seated, Duke of
Lancaster,
What say you will you? resign in peace the Crown
To him whose right it is,
Richard Plantagenet?
Or shall we force it from you by our Swords?
Rich.
Let's tear the Crown from the Usurpers head.
Ed.
Sound but the Trumpets and the King will fly.
Pl.
Peace, Sons.
Hen
Peace all of you, and hear your King.
Rebels, I fear all danger less than you do,
For I am better arm'd with innocence.
But I confess I do fear Civil War;
Not for my own, but for my peoples sake,
I am afraid to shed the blood of
English men,
But you indeed are bold in cruelty.
[Page 24]
By which (oh Heaven!) judge whose is the Child
His who desires to have it cut in peices,
Or mine, who strive in tenderness to save it.
For my own part I fear no power, but Heaven,
Rebels may be successful for a time,
And overturn all order, right, and justice,
But Heaven does not let the world stand long
In that unnatural uneasie posture,
But soon put's all things in their proper places.
Pl.
Thy own mouth,
Henry, has pronounc'd thy doom.
Successful Murder, and Rebellion,
Swell'd for two Generations of thy race
Over all right, and all that durst oppose 'em;
But Heaven in thee has dryed up the black stream,
And made it such a Brook all trample over it.
Hen.
I've oft been told by thee, my Grand-father
Depos'd his King.
Pl.
And I did tell thee truth.
Hen.
Cannot a King adopt an Heir?
Pl.
VVhat then?
Hen.
Did not King
Richard to my Grand-father
Resign the Crown in open Parliament?
Pl.
Did not thy Grand-father compel him to it
By force of Arms? and then the Parliament,
To their eternal shame, if not Damnation,
Flatter'd the wicked fortunate Usurper.
War.
But say, the King had done it unconstrain'd,
He cou'd not give away another's right.
Henry usurp'd the right of the next Heirs.
Hen.
My Conscience tells me that my Title is weak.
Cl.
How, Sir, will you revolt from your own self?
Who will stand by you then?
War.
Clifford, thou dyest,
If thou permit'st not
Henry to resign.
Cl.
Let
Henry give his Title to the Crown,
He shall not give my Title to revenge.
May the ground gape and swallow me alive,
When e're I kneel to him who kill'd my Father.
War.
Ho! there within.—
Cl.
I am prepar'd for you.
War.
stamps, and enter Souldiers of his side. Cl.
does the same and enter Souldiers on his side; as they are going to fight, King Henry
interposes.
Hen.
Hold! hold! my Lords: Oh! let not Blood be shed;
[Page 25]
Let us not make a Shambles of this place.
Pray hear me all; I find my Title's weak,
And to defend it were to fight with Justice.
Besides, there lyes already on my head
The Blood of
Richard, murder'd by my Grand-father,
And I'd be loth to add my peoples Blood;
For saving which, hear this proposal from me,
I have been King these eight and thirty years,
And many Interests must grow to mine
That you can never tear me from the Throne,
But you will set a thousand Veins a bleeding,
Then let me reign in quiet all my life,
And when I'm dead,
Plantagenet be King
Pl.
I approve of it, and on that condition
Kneels and kisses Hen's
hand.
I swear to be King
Henry's faithful Vassal.
Hen.
And not to seek the Throne by Arms or Treason?
Pl.
Never whilst King
Henry lives.
Hen.
Then I entail
The Crown to thee and to thy Heirs for ever.
Cl.
The Devil to him, and to his Heirs for ever.
VVhat have you done?
War.
Good to himself and
England.
Cl.
VVrong to his Son, his Subjects, and himself.
Ex.
VVhy sigh you, Sir?
King Hen.
sight.
Hen.
For my poor Son I've wrong'd.
War.
You have not wrong'd him, you have wholly freed him
From all the Vengeance due to Usurpation.
Cl.
Oh!
Henry, if thy Father's Soul did see
Thy baseness, it wou'd torture him in Heaven
Plantagenet, when that great Monarch liv'd,
Thou durst have sooner let into thy Soul
Ten thousand Devils than a Traytrous Thought:
Farewel degenerate faint-hearted King,
May'st thou be beat in War, and scorn'd in Peace.
Exit.
Pl.
Sons, head the Troops before the Palace Gate,
Lest furious
Clifford shou'd do some rash thing.
Ex. Ed.
and Rich.
and George.
Enter the Queen and Prince.
Pl.
Here comes the Queen.
Hen.
And with her my poor Son.
War.
She appears big with Thunder and with Lightning:
Expect a Tempest quickly, Sir, but slight it.
Qu.
Are the news true? can it be possible
[Page 26]
That you have disinherited your Son?
And given your Crown to Trayterous
Plantagenet?
Hen.
The Crown is his, I have no Title to it,
But what is founded on Rebellion,
The murder and usurpation of a King.
Qu.
Then hast thou not the spirit of a King,
Nor of a Father, timerous mean VVretch,
To let a Crew of Rebels hector thee
Out of a Crown, nay out of thy own Son?
For thou must think thou hast no Title to him,
Or thou'dst not disinherit him unnaturally.
Hen.
My Love, I do not disinherit him;
For what I give away is not his right;
And if I should entail another's right on him,
I shou'd entail Heaven's Vengeance on his head.
Qu.
Who says the Crown's not yours?
Hen.
I am convinc'd
By powerful Arguments.
Qu.
By Pikes and Swords.
Had I been here when thou mad'st this Agreement,
The Souldiers shou'd have tost me on their Pikes,
E're I'd have stoop'd to such unnatural baseness.
Oh! how came thee and I in Marriage joyn'd?
For I am Fire, thou art weak floating Water.
Driven by the breath of Rebels any way.
Wou'd I had dy'd a Maid, and never seen thee;
At least had never born thee such a Son.
Oh! my sweet Son, thou art no more a Prince,
Because thy Father is no more a King.
He has undone himself, and thee, and all of us.
Pr.
I am a Prince, and I will be a King.
Father, you cannot disinherit me;
You may bestow your Kingdom whil'st you live;
But when you are dead it is not yours, but mine.
Qu.
My Son, he shall not disinherit thee.
I have men here to guard me from these Rebels,
And Troops else-where to conquer 'em, and punish 'em.
And I will make my Son a Glorious Prince;
Whil'st thou, tame Prince, shalt be a slave to Traytors:
Made to assist in conquering thy self,
And then in digging thy own Sepulchre;
For Rebels will not do their work by halves.
Though thou art but the shadow of a King,
Rebels will tremble at a Royal Shadow,
And they'll be forc'd to kill thee, if 'tis possible,
[Page 27]
To make thee a more dead thing than thou art.
Hen.
Oh! my dear Love, talk not so harshly to me.
Qu.
I will be harsher in my deeds than words.
For from this moment I divorce my self
For ever from thy Bed, thou art no King,
And thou shalt have no Sons of me to ruine;
I scorn to have a Slave get on my Body.
Ex. Qu. and Pr.
Hen.
Poor Queen, how love and pity for my Son
Set her a-raging, as they set me grieving?
War.
Add her ambition to her love and pity,
For that has no small share in her disturbance.
Pl.
I know she's raising Forces in the
North,
My Lord of
Warwick, do you keep the King,
And stay to raise what Force you can in
London,
VVhilst I will to the
North, and so between us
VVe'll wall her in, and keep that fire from spreading.
Hen.
Pray, my Lords, do, I will assist you both
Against my self, I'll do to others right,
Though on my self I sure destruction bring,
I're I'll be wicked, I will be no King.
Ex. omnes.
ACT. III.
Scene a Castle.
Enter Plantagenet, Edward, Richard.
Pl.
HOW has this Woman charm'd these men together,
No less than twenty thousand? a vast Army!
All my Troops here will scarcely make five thousand,
Then she is gotten between me and
London;
That I can no way join the Earl of
Warwick,
Nor can he possibly come time enough
To my assistance; I am in a strait.
Ed.
I think not, Sir, brave men are never in a strait
When they have Arms and Liberty to fight.
Pl.
I shou'd slight odds, if the Enemy were
French,
But now our present Enemies are
English,
Made of the same brave stuff as we our selves.
Rich.
But such brave stuff as we have soundly beaten,
And such as are conducted by a Woman.
And men ne're think of fighting under Petticoats.
Pl.
[Page 28]
I've sent your Brother
George to raise some Troops,
I hop'd he might have been with me er'e now;
But I must take my fortune now, the Enemy
Approaches us— bring in my dear Boy
Rutland.
Enter Rutland,
and a Priest his Tutor.
My Darling, let me kiss thee e're I go,
I know not if I 'ere shall see thee more;
If I should fall under the numerous Enemy,
I leave thee to the care of thy three Brothers,
All valiant men, and some of 'em I hope
Will be great men, be Kings; I charge 'em all
On my last blessing to take cares of thee,
My pretious Darling, as of their own Souls.
Rut.
Why do you talk thus, Sir? you make me weep,
If you must dye, I hope I shall dye with you;
I had rather dye with you than live a King.
Pl.
Sweet Boy, farewell my Soul, here take the Boy
And guard him safely in the strong dark Vault,
And if things prove worse than I hope they will,
Convey him safely to our next Garrison,
And give his Brothers notice of his flight.
Ex. Pl. Ed. Rich.
one way, another Rutl.
with a Guard.
An Allarm, shouts of Victory, the Scene continues. Enter Clifford
and his Souldiers.
Cl.
Pursue, pursue, pursue, and give no quarter, charge you do not spare Man, Woman, or Child.
Ex.
An Allarm, Enter Rutland.
Rut.
Oh! whither shall I fly? how shall I escape?
Ah!
Clifford comes! and no one's here to guard me.
Cl.
Ha! have I found one of
Plantagenot's Brats?
Rut.
Oh! now I shall be murder'd hold, my Lord,
Hear me but speak one word before I dye.
Cl.
What canst thou say, fond Boy, that's worth my hearing?
Rut.
I'd only beg you to regard your self;
You are a valiant man, I am a Boy;
Stain not your fame by killing a poor Boy,
I wou'd not for your own sake you shou'd do it;
For I love gallant men, and I love you;
[Page 29]
Though you are my Enemy, because you are gallant.
Cl.
Away you insinuating, flattering boy,
Who taught you this Hypocrisie? your Priest?
Give o're, give o're! for were there in thy Voice
Celestial Harmony, my Father's Blood
Has stop'd the passage where the sound shou'd enter.
Rut.
I did not shed his Blood.
Cl.
Thy Father did.
Rut.
Then fight my Father, that will get you honour.
Cl.
Shou'd I kill thee, thy Father, all thy Brothers,
Nay shou'd I dig up thy Fore-father's Graves,
And hang their rotten Coffins up in Chains,
My rage wou'd not be quench'd.
Rut.
That's very strange;
VVhy shou'd your fury burn against the innocent?
Cl.
I kill thee out of hatred to thy kind,
As I wou'd do a Toad, or a young Serpent.
Rut.
Hear me but one word more, dear, brave, Lord
Clifford;
You have a Son, for his sake pity me,
Lest as you kill me for my Father's faults,
Just Heaven shou'd destroy your Son for yours,
And he be miserably kill'd as I am.
Then, Oh! for your Son's sake give me my life,
And for my Father's faults keep me in Prison,
And kill me whensoever I offend you.
Cl.
Thou wilt be an offence to me in living.
Whilst any of thy cursed Fathers race
Live upon Earth, I live on Earth?—then dye—
Rut.
Oh! shall I have no pity at your hands?
Cl.
Such pity as my Rapiers point affords!
Wounds him.
Rut.
May'st thou ne're get more fame than by this deed;
Oh my poor Father! Oh! my death will kill him.
Dyes.
Cl.
Ho! take the body up, and carry it after me,
I'll make a present of it to his Father.
Exit.
Enter Plantagenet.
Pl.
All's lost, my men by numbers are devour'd,
Or fly like Ships before the stormy wind.
My Sons have bravely fought, but all in vain,
They only swim like Swans against the Tide,
And are born down by over-matching Waves,
And I am very faint and cannot flie;
But had I strength, I'm on all sides enclos'd,
The Sands are numbred that make up my life,
[Page 30]
See! the bloody
Clifford comes! then here I fall!
Enter Clifford
and Souldiers.
Cl.
Ha! have I found thee proud
Plantagenet.
What tumbled
Phaethon from thy shining Chariot,
And made an Evening at thy highest Noon?
Oh Father! from the joys above descend,
And share with me the pleasure of Revenge,
Or else by high revenge I'll climb to thee.
Pl.
Thou bloody raging
Clifford, do thy worst;
I'd scorn to ask thee mercy hadst thou any,
But thou hast none, then come with all thy Multitudes.
Cl.
So Cowards fight when they can fly no farther,
So Pigeons peck the Falcon's piercing Talons,
So desperate Thieves breathe curses at the Officers.
Pl.
Hast thou the impudence to charge a Prince
With cowardize, who made thee basely fly?
Call to thy memory S.
Albans Battel.
Cl.
I do, then didst thou kill my brave old Father.
Pl.
And now wou'd thee, wert thou not back't with multitudes.
Cl.
I will try that; stand of, and do not touch him,
Unless I fall; then cut him all to pieces.
I will not lose revenge; yet I will give him
So much revenge to kill me if he can.
Pl.
I thank thee for the kindness, 'tis a great one.
They Fight, Plantagenet
is disarm'd and thrown.
Cl.
Now wilt thou yield that I have fairly conquer'd thee?
As Cl.
is lifting up his arm to kill him, Enter the Queen.
Q.
Hold valiant
Clifford! hold!—I wou'd prolong
The Traytors life to scorn him, trample on him:
Are you the man that wou'd be King of
England?
Are you the man that revell'd in the Parliament?
Sat in your Sovereign's Throne, and did believe
Your breath cou'd blow his Crown from off his head?
Where are your Mess o' Sons to back you now?
Your wanton
Edward, and your lusty
George,
Your ugly valiant
Dick, that crookback Prodigy?
And with the rest, where is your darling
Rutland?
Pl.
My heart misgives me, where is he indeed?
Qu.
Ask
Clifford.
Pl.
[Page 31]
Oh! thou hast not butcher'd,
Clifford,
The innocent Boy?
Cl.
On that young tender morsell
My greedy vengeance staid a while it's stomach,
Till it cou'd dine on thee, and all thy Sons.
Qu.
See! I have stain'd a Napkin in the blood,
That valiant
Clifford with his Rapier's point
Made issue from the bosome of thy darling,
And bring it thee to wipe away thy tears.
Pl.
She-wolf of
France! or rather cruel Tygress,
For woman thou art none; women are soft,
Gentle and pitiful, but thou art cruel,
Oh! ten times more than an
Hyrcanian Tygress.
There is a Boy that thinks thou art his Mother;
But surely thou didst never bear a Child,
For thou woud'st something know a Parents love,
And have some natural touch of pitie in thee,
And not have drain'd the life-blood of a Child
To bid his Father wipe his eyes withal.
Qu.
I therefore did it to increase thy sorrow:
I know a Parent's love, and thy fond love,
And all the mysteries of thy haughty heart;
I knew that thou woud'st Barricado it
Against the losses of a Crown and Life,
With Iron-barrs of stubborness and pride,
But oh! this blood like Oyl will sink into it;
These Crimson threads will lead tormenting grief
Into the inmost lodgings of thy Soul,
And lest this Napkin be too soft a thing
I have within an Engine that shall squeeze
Thy soul into thy eyes. Bring
Rutland's Body.
Now thou hast drunk the liquour, take the cup.
Enter some with dead Rutland.
Pl.
Oh! my sweet Boy!
Qu.
Ah! this is Musick to me!
This is the part thou mean'st I shou'd have plaid,
If thy accursed Treasons had succeeded.
But that my Tragedy must have been deeper,
And bloodier far; thou mean'st I shoud have wept
For a lost Kingdom, Husband, and a Son.
Pl.
Yes, and I do not doubt but my three Sons,
Heaven's vengeance, and the curses of all
England
Shortly will make thee weep for loss of all 'em.
Qu.
I'll spoil thy prophecying; give me a sword.
Cl.
[Page 32]
I'll pierce him first, there's for my Fathers blood.
Qu.
There for the horrid ills thou threatnest to me.
Cl.
There for the ills he brought upon the Kingdome,
Pl.
Open thy gate of mercy gratious Heaven!—
Dyes.
Qu.
Now take his head once fill'd with lofty thoughts,
And set it on a lofty pinacle.—
Ex.
Scene the Field.
Enter Edward.
Ed.
No tydings of my Father? I am troubled!
Enter Richard.
Ric.
Brother, I've news!
Ed.
what of our valiant Father?
Ric.
Oh no! I cannot hear what is become of him.
Ed.
What are your news then?
Ric.
They are not very good;
A Messenger is come from the Earl of
Warwick,
Who tell's us he is marching to our aid,
But leaving a strong party with Lord
Cobham,
To guard the King, and all the Southern parts,
They chanc'd to meet with some of the Queen's Troops.
And whether the Kings Coldness numm'd his keepers,
Or whether terror of the Warlike Queen,
Whose armies and success each hour encrease
Or of the inexorable cruel
Clifford,
It is not known, but my Lord
Cobham's men
Look'd on the shining Valour of the Enemy,
Like sleepy Owles on day, and fell beneath it.
That they were all destroyed, and
Henry fled,
With the Victorious Troops to joyn the Queen;
That the Earl of
Warwick now wants strength to fight her.
Ed.
This is ill news indeed! what shall we do?
Ric.
Hee desires you to haste away with speed,
To meet ten thousand men marching from
Wales,
Rais'd by your interest there to whom he sent
To joyn his Troops if possible to morrow.
Which they may do, if you will hasten 'em.
Ed.
They shall not want for that, I'll go this instant.
Ric.
Pray do not fail, for all our Lives, and Fortunes
Are set on this one cast.
Ed.
I'll spur away.
[Page 33]
Which way go you?
Ric.
I'll to the Earl of
Warwick.
Exit.
Ed.
My Horse, my Horse, I must ride for a Kingdom.
Enter Lady Eleanor Butler
in a riding dress.
La. El.
My Lord!
Ed.
My Love!—or a fair Vision! if a Vision
Tell me, lest I embrace thee into a Dew.
La. El.
Yes, I am that fond she who gave Lord
Edward
The lovelyest, bravest, but the most inconstant
Of all mankind my hand and heart for ever.
Ed.
Then I am that fond he, will lose a Kingdom
Rather than one hours pleasure with my Love,
And so farewell a Kingdom for an hour.
La. El.
I heard you were surrounded by the Queens
Numerous Troops, and in exceeding danger;
And I cou'd have no quiet, till I came
And shar'd your destiny what e're it was.
Ed.
Oh! it was kindly charitably done,
To speak the truth, mine is a scurvy destiny,
The Enemy is in my Father's Castle,
And I've no Beds of Down, on Golden Bed-steads
Under plum'd Canopies, t'embrace my Love in;
My Destiny will be to lye to night
On some Straw-bed, under some low thatch'd Roof,
And thou shalt share it; what if the chil wind
Blow on us? it will make us lye the closer;
Or what if we shou'd lye on the cold Earth?
It was our Grandsire
Adam's Bridal Bed,
'Twas there he gave the start to all mankind.
La. El.
Fye, Fye, such thoughts as these at such a time?
When you have a Life and Kingdom to look after.
Ed.
A thousand Lives and Kingdoms are in thee,
Whilst the Enemies tall fortune stalks about
In darkness, like a blinded
Polyphem;
We will creep under it into a Cottage
Of some of my own faithful Tenants here,
And safely steal delight, like cunning Mariners,
Pilfring the hold out of the reach of shot.
La. El.
Have you a mind then to be kill'd or taken?
The Woods are all full of the Enemy.
Ed.
Shou'd all the Trees turn men, and the Grass Pikes,
I will not stir from hence, till I've enjoy'd thee.
My crooked Brother
Richard like a Hook
[Page 34]
Pull'd me away from thee the other night,
For which I'll lay a double Tax on this.
La. El.
Though I am but your Wife in hopes and promises,
So great an Empire have you over me,
My heart wou'd not refuse you any Tax,
Did not your self run danger in the gathering.
Ed.
There is no danger, every Cottager
In all these parts will hang e're he'll betray me;
Then let the loss of the last opportunity
Make us so wise, to use this whilst we have it.
La. El.
Pray do not ask me.
Ed.
Pray do not deny me.
La. El.
You will be taken.
Ed.
No, I'll warrant you.
La. El.
But if you shou'd?
Ed.
No matter if Thieves come,
When we have put our Money out to use.
La. El.
You are a strange man.
Ed.
And you are a sweet woman.
Come, come away.
La. El.
Well now, if mischief happen
Do not blame me.
Ed.
There can no mischief happen,
Like losing this most blessed opportunity,
Then come along,—along—
La. El.
Oh! that I cou'd not.
Ed.
Away, away, I say.
La. El.
Well—since I must—
Ex.
Enter Souldiers dragging Country-men. Scene a Cottage.
1
Soul.
Where is your Money, Rogues? confess, you Rogues.
1
Coun.
Indeed, Sir, I am a very poor man,
I get my living by my labour, Sir,
And I have nothing but from hand to mouth.
1
Soul.
You lye, you Rogue, you lye, I know the tricks
Of all you Rogues; when e're your King wants Money,
Then you are poor, you cannot pay your Taxes;
But if the Swords of Rebels plow the Nation
Then you have Bags, and you can bring 'em out
Like Baggs of Seed, and sow 'em all for Crops
To maintain Rogues that fight against your King;
Nay for that use can pawn your Pots and Kettels,
But now for us you cannot find a Farthing.
2
Coun.
Indeed, Sir, you shou'd have it, if I had it,
[Page 35]
VVith all my heart.
2
Soul.
You lye, you Rogue, you lye.
I know this Rogue, he is one of the damn'd Rebels,
Plantagenet's chief Tenants, a rich Fellow;
You have no Money for the King's Souldiers,
But you had Money to fit out your Son
A Trooper, Sirrah, to fight for Rebellion.
3
Soul.
Oh Rogue!
2
Soul.
I knew his Son, and kill'd the Dog.
2.
Co.
Oh! wretched me! he was my only Son.
1.
So.
Come take the Rogue and hang him on that tree,
Unless he presently confess his Money.
2.
Cou.
Oh! Sir, I will confess! I will confess.
3.
Sou.
Then you have money, Sirrah?
2
Coun.
Yes, a little.
1
Sou.
A little! Oh! you Rogue! just now you had none.
You have a little too?
1
Coun.
Yes, Sir, a little.
2
So.
And where's your little Money? quickly! quickly!
2
Cou.
Mine is buried here, under my Hearth.
1
So.
Come digg and find it.
2
Co.
Oh! undone!
1
Soul.
Digg, Digg.
2
Countryman diggs.
2
Soul.
Where is your Money, Sirrah?
1
Cou.
In my Cow-house
Under the Dung.
2
Soul.
Go, Sirrah! go and fetch it.
Exit. 1
Countryman.
2
Cou.
Here's all my money! Sir.
2
Soul.
Here all, you Rogue?
Sirrah! you lye! you have ten times as much.
Do not I know you a fat Bacon Rogue,
That have been smoking in
Plantagenet's Chimney,
These forty years? Sirrah! I know your purse
Cut's a foot thick, of Reechy golden fat.
2
Cou.
Indeed here's every penny, that I have.
1
So.
Do you think, Sirrah, we'll be chous'd o' this fashion?
We have hang'd half the people in your Country,
For offering to put such tricks upon us;
And therefore have a care.
2
Coun.
Oh! I'll confess!
I'm an old man, and my only Son is kill'd.
And now I care not what becomes o' me.
I'll shew you all I have; there it lies buried
Under yon Oak.
1
Soul.
Go, Sirrah, go and fetch it.
[Page 36]
Enter the first Countryman.
1.
Cou.
Here's all I have been getting forty years.
Pray spare me a little for my two poor Daughters.
1.
So.
How has he Daughters? we shall have more sport.
All 3.
So.
Hay! for the Daughters! Hay for the Daughters.
Ex.
1
Co.
Ah! my poor Daughters!
Ex.
Enter the Souldiers chasing two Country Girles, who cry, help! help! their Father runns after 'em weeping: they all run over the Stage. After cries within.
Enter the Souldiers with Money baggs, dragging the Countrymen. Scene continues.
2
Soul.
So now you Rogues, how do you like Rebellion
You were a Couple of seditious Rogues,
That us'd at Ale-houses to pay for all
That rail'd against the King, and Government.
Now had not you better have Plowed, and Carted,
And pay'd your Taxes honestly and quietly,
Then have your Money seiz'd, your Daughters ravish'd,
Your Sons knock'd o' the head, and your selves hang'd,
As you shall be?
1
Coun.
Oh! Sir! I hope not so,
Now you have promis'd us.
1
Soul.
You impudent Doggs,
Did not you swear Allegiance to your King?
Yet break your Oaths to him? and do you expect,
We shou'd keep Verbal promises with you?
2.
Soul.
This Country belongs, Sirrah, to your Landlord;
And we have orders to take all the Money,
Burn all the Houses, and hang all the people.
We have obey'd our orders yet, and will.
The Scene is drawn, and there appears Houses and Towns burning, Men and Women hang'd upon Trees, and Children on the tops of Pikes.
1
Coun.
Oh Heaven! have mercy on us! have mercy on us!
2
Coun.
Oh Heaven! have mercy on us! have mercy on us!
1
Soul.
Now Rogues, how do you like Rebellion?
2.
Soul.
Come hang 'em whilst there is a Tree to spare,
They are almost all bespoke.
Drumb beats.
Enter a Scout.
Scout.
To Armes, to Armes,
Warwick is coming.
All 3.
Warwick! Arme, Arm, Arm.
Ex.
Ric.
Oh horrid spectacle! See here, my Lord!
War.
The Queen is planting in your Fathers Lands
An Orchard for the Devil.
Ric.
I will dung this Orchard
With the blood of those that planted it,
I have a Spirit in this crooked Trunck
Stands like a keeper in a hollow Tree,
Ready with bended bow to shoot fat Deer,
And down goe's thou, thy
Henry, all thy Race.
I'll not leave killing, 'till I've built my Father
A monument of Bones and Sculls of Enemies
That shall o'relook th'
Aegyptian Pyramids.
Oh that my Brother
Edward now were come!
War.
Till his Troops come we cannot fight the Enemy,
For they are above thirty thousand strong,
And we scarce twelve.
Enter Edward,
a Woman.
Ric.
What do I see! I think
I see him there! pray look, my Lord, and tell me.
Now I am sure 'tis he! for there's a Woman:
Oh! we are ruin'd! for I will be damn'd,
If he has not been with her all this Night.
War.
He durst not do it, durst not serve me so.
Ed.
I see my Brother and my Lord of
Warwick,
Retire.
Ex. Wom.
War.
My Lord.
Ed.
My Lord of
Warwick.
War.
Yes my Lord;
Where are your men?
Ed.
My Lord, I must confess,
I've been to night a happy, but great sinner.
Starting to gallop for the Crown, my destiny
I sung in my way brighter temptations,
Than were all
Atalanta's Golden Balls,
That had it cost a Kingdom and my life,
I cou'd not but have stoop'd to take 'em up.
Ric.
'Tis well, must all the glory we have div'd for
In Seas of blood, be melted in a kiss,
And swallowed down like
Cleopatra's pear
[Page 38]
In one sweet draught?
War.
So you have serv'd me well.
Ric.
And do you thus revenge our Fathers blood?
War.
But what revenge shall I have for the ruin,
That I am like to suffer in your service?
Ed.
Fear not.
War.
I do not fear, I know which way
I can repair my self; in
Henry's service
I can have greatness with less pains, and dangr,
Than I must take in yours to be undone.
Ed.
You will not leave me?
War.
You first left your self,
And left me too.
Ed.
I beg your pardon for it,
Who, now my Fathers murderd, am your King.
War.
You are my King, but King of my own making,
And I, like Heaven, repent I've made a Creature'
Who for the Apple of a rowling Eye,
Will lose a World: But I'll secure my share of it.
I will go make
Henry a King again,
And tumble you again into a subject.
Ed.
You will not sure, my Lord!
War.
I swear I will.
Ed.
Oh but you cannot do it.
War.
I'll try that.
Ed.
You can at most but make
Henry a Tyrant,
For I am lawful King.
War.
Oh! I'll give
Henry
My Sword, and do you keep your lawfulness,
Then try which of you will be King of
England.
I ne're found Conscience or in Priest, or Layman
So firm at anchor, but a golden Ax
Wou'd cut the Cable, or success cou'd weigh it,
And set the Conscience swimming with the Tyde.
Ric.
Oh! I cou'd tear my flesh! must we be ruin'd
For a fair Toy?—but I will not be ruin'd.
For I will seek the Kingdom for my self.
Ed.
Brother, 'tis well.
Rich.
Brother, it shall be ill,
Exceeding ill with you, and very quickly.
Ed.
Hold! I command you both hear me one word.
Know I have only made a Tryal of you,
For I have brought the Troops that you desir'd,
I march'd 'em hither with such expedition,
Their front encounter'd here the front of day.
[Page 39]
Nay more, I've brought my Brother and his Troops,
Both Armies are not half a mile from hence;
And here my Brother is: Brother, come hither.
Enter George.
Geo.
I heard of our great Fathers sad misfortunes
And came to his revenge with all the speed
A hungry wretch wou'd do to a great feast,
Where there were many guests, and he far off.
Ed.
Now my good faithful Friends, what think you both?
Now,
Warwick, will you make
Henry a King?
And, Brother, will you make your self a King?
I was inform'd of what I have discover'd
That you, good Brother, sought to be a King;
And
Warwick to command him, who is King;
And him you cannot Govern, you will ruin.
Henry is govern'd by the Queen and
Clifford
And so because there is no room for Rule,
You fight for us to make us all your Vassals.
War.
Who durst say this of me?
Ric.
And what bold Villain
Durst give you such a Character of me?
Ed.
Oh! you are angry, I'm inform'd the truth.
If they be Villains, who durst tell me this,
Then what are you, who durst to my own face
Threaten to do all this?
War.
It was all passion.
Ric.
Nothing but passion.
Ed.
Brother, you are wrong'd,
Or in cold blood you are as bad as this;
You act the undermining
Polititian,
A King is a strong Tower on a high Rock,
And it is dangerous to storm him openly;
So at a mighty distance they break ground
And cast up earth, that is by subtle tricks
They raise the dirty crow'd, and behind them
They lie secure from Royal battery.
There if they find any unguarded place,
About the King, they use it most unmercifully.
My heart to beauty always lies too open,
And that infirmitie thou givest no quarter;
Though thou who censurest me, because sometimes,
I shed some vacant hours among fair Women,
Wou'dst shed the blood, or of thy Friend or King,
[Page 40]
Or if thy Father, were he now alive,
To gain a Crown, for there is thy chief Lust.
Ric.
That is a Cruel censure.
Ed.
But a true one,
Who stabbs my Name, wou'd stab my Person too,
Did not the Hangman's Ax lye in his way,
And no man care's to stumble upon that.
War.
Well, Sir, I have so long gone clad in Steel,
I have forgot to kneel; but yet my Spirit,
More stubborn than my sinews, bonds to you.
And beggs your pardon for my too rash passion,
For 'twas no more, and there appear'd occasion;
Though you it seems kindled the fire o'purpose
To shew us by the light of it our faults.
Ed.
Nay, I will own after the days Fatigues,
I fell into an ambuscade of beauty,
Where ignorant of what befell my Father,
And deep in Love, I lay some hours last night;
And which of you wou'd not have done the same?
War.
All of us wou'd, and, Sir, I humbly beg you
Think my wild passion was the Woman in me,
And I've enjoy'd my Woman, as you yours.
Ed.
My Lord, I know you wou'd enjoy your Woman,
I mean your Mistress, for you have a Mistress,
And you, who threatned to revolt from me;
Because some moments, which were due to business,
I gave away to Beauty, and to Love,
Had almost at S.
Albans given away
Our victory, to a Woman that abhorr'd you.
War.
Ha!
Ed.
Yes, my Lord, I was inform'd the story.
You woo'd her, over her dead Husband's Body,
Till you were almost taken by the Enemy.
I do not know her Name, I never pry
Into your pleasures, though you censure mine.
But thou in Chastity, wou'dst seem a
Scipio.
Know, that the Woman that thou saw'st me with,
Was thy own Whore.
Ric.
Ha!
Ed.
Yes, thy own poor Whore,
A Peasant's dirty Daughter, whom thou keep'st,
By whom thou hast a little tawny Bastard,
Whom I o' purpose brought to shew thy Faults,
In th' eyes, where thou hast often seen thy face.
This is the Lady.
[Page 41]
Enter Woman.
Ric.
Cursed treacherous jade!
Aside.
Ed.
Now, Sirs, what think you?
Ge.
Pray, Sir, give me leave
To intercede for 'em, I see shame covers 'em,
And to great minds no punishment like shame.
Rich.
Sir, not for mine, but for my Father's sake
Pardon my Errours and accept my Service,
Kneels both.
That I may aid you to revenge his Blood.
War.
Sir, not for mine, but for the Kingdoms sake,
Pardon my Errours and accept my service,
For I by placing you in the
English Throne
Shall place the
English Throne above the World.
Ed.
Rise both of you, I freely pardon you,
And yet methinks it is unequal usage
A King shou'd pardon all the faults of Subjects,
And Subjects pardon nothing in their King;
When a King's crown'd, he is not deifyed,
When he puts on the Royal Robes, he does not
Therefore put of th' Infirmities of man.
I own I have my faults, and so have you,
You see I have convinc'd you; and I did it
That you might leave your faults and pardon mine;
Or if you kept your faults to part with me;
For if my Lord of
Warwick does design
By all his Service only to enslave me,
I shall lose nothing by his leaving me,
I can but be a Slave when I am conquer'd,
And if my Brother
Richard has worse ends—
Ric.
Oh! Sir, no more, unless you do design
I shou'd rip up my Breast to shew my heart—
War.
Sir, I'll desire no farther pardon of you,
Till I have writ it in your Enemies Blood,
And pawn'd my Life and Fortune for my Loyalty.
Ed.
Our Friendship then is stronger for this breach,
Now let us bend our talk to our Affairs,
On the sad tidings of my Father's death,
Which I but lately heard, I sent Commissioners
To
Henry to demand the Crown of him
According to the Oath he made in Parliament.
They are here!—what tydings? Peace, or War?
[Page 42]
Enter Commissioners.
Com.
War.
All.
War.
1
Com.
Th' Amazon Queen drags
Henry to the Battel.
He fain would keep his Oath, but she'll not suffer him.
Ric.
I'm glad of it, I would not for a Kingdom
Peace shou'd chain up that Bloody Mastiff
Clifford,
And keep him safe from the edge of our keen Swords.
War.
You wrong the Beast to give that name to
Clifford,
An
English Mastiff scorns to bite a Child.
Ed.
Now let us march to meet the Enemy,
This day decides who shall be King of
England,
The right is ours.
War.
And Justice will prevail,
Since Right and Merit both are in the Scale.
Exeunt.
ACT. IV.
An Alarm.
Enter King Henry,
the Queen, Prince, Clifford.
Cl.
DAmn your unlucky Planets, pray, Sir, get you
Out of the Battel, 'tis impossible
For men to fight the malice of your Planets.
Qu.
He tells you true, Sir, Victory will never
Come where you are.
Hen.
Victory will not come
Where Perjury is, you make me break my Oath.
Cl.
You ought not to have sworn so ill an Oath.
Pr.
Father, you cannot give away my Right,
I'll rather lose my life than my Inheritance.
Cl.
Spoke like a Prince.
Hen.
Oh! Boy, if thou didst know
What a Crown was, thou wou'dst be more content,
If I shou'd leave thee no Inheritance,
But the Example of my vertuous deeds;
I wish my Father had left me no more.
Cl.
Oh! damn all this!—come, let us to the Battel.
Ex. Cl.
Qu. Pr.
Hen.
Oh! how this Fellow curses? he accuses
[Page]
My Stars for my misfortunes, when his Curses
Wound all my Men, and poyson the Enemies shot.
Wou'd I were dead if it were Heav'ns good will!
Lyes down
For I am very weary of this World.
Troublesome folly governs all this World.
Men live her Vassals, and they dye her Martyrs.
Oh! happy he who in an humble state
Only attends on Nature's easie business,
And brings white heirs down to a quiet Grave,
Falling to earth, as gently as the Snow.
Alarm! Enter a Son bearing his Father.
Here comes a wretch laden, as he believes,
With happy Fortune, 'tis with bloudy folly,
And Heaven has carv'd Fool on his breast with wounds.
Son.
Who e're thou art thy life has cost me dear,
But I'll repay my self out of thy Gold;
If thou hast any; with the hopes of that
I took such pains to kill thee. And yet I
Who plunder thee, may be compel'd e're Night,
To give my life, and plunder to another.
What's this? Oh! Heaven! I have kill'd my Father.
Oh Father pardon me, I did not know thee.
I was in
London prest to serve the King,
And thou the Earl of
Warwick's servant prest,
To fight on th' other side, and so unknown
We met and Fought; and so unknown I kill'd thee.
Oh from thy Bosom I will wash away,
With tears, the marks of this unnatural Crime.
Hen.
Oh piteous spectacle! Oh sad confusions!
What horrid errours, and unnatural ills
Our horrid and unnatural war produces!
Poor wretch, didst thou want tears I cou'd supply thee.
Enter a Father bearing his Son.
Fath.
Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me;
Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold,
For I have bought it with a hundred blows.
Ha! let me see, is this my Enemy?
Ah no, my Son, I've kill'd my only Son.
Hen.
Ah woe on woe, Heaven stop these bloudy mischiefs,
Though by the Death of me and all my Race.
Son.
Oh I have ta'ne his life who gave me mine.
Fath.
[Page 44]
Oh! I've kill'd him for whom I wou'd have dyed.
Son.
How will my Mother for my Fathers death
Take on with me?
Fath
How will my mourning Wife,
Accuse me of the slaughter of my Son?
Hen.
How will my people charge all this on me?
Son.
I'll bear thee hence and weep, but fight no more.
Ex.
Fath.
I'll bear thee hence and weep; but kill no more,
Except my self with sorrow.
Ex.
Hen.
Oh! poor men!
Here is a King more woful than you all;
For you grieve for your selves, I for you all.
Oh you, who when you suffer by your Kings,
Think to mend all by War, and by Rebellion!
See here, your sad mistakes! how dreadfully
You scourge your selves! learn here the greatest Tyrant
Is to be chose before the least Rebellion.
And Oh you Kings, who let your people rule,
Till they have run themselves into confusion,
See here your gentleness is greatest Tyranny!
Enter Prince, and Queen.
Pr.
Fly, Father fly, all's lost, your Friends are fled,
Qu.
The day is lost, and with the day, the Kingdom.
Hen.
Where's
Clifford?
Qu.
I believe he's dead by this time,
I met him bleeding with a hundred wounds.
He all the day rowl'd like a fiery meteor,
About the field, and burnt up men like reeds;
But now in lakes of blood his fire is quench'd.
Post you to
Scotland with all haste you can;
I will to
France, to beg that Kings assistance.
Ex. Qu. Pr.
Hen.
I go, but care not what becomes o' me.
Ex.
Enter Clifford
wounded.
Cl.
Here burns my Candle out, that lighted
Henry.
Warwick, and all
Plantagenets three Sons.
And all King
Henry's malicious Planets
With much ado to day have kill'd one man.
Henry's Stars ruine me and my fall him.
But his soft sway made way for his destruction:
Oh!
Henry, hadst thou rul'd as Kings shou'd do,
Or as thy Father, or his Father did,
[Page 45]
These Summer flies had never sprung to sting thee,
Rebels you thrive, and may Rebellion thrive
That Rogues may cut your throats as you do ours.
The Ayr has got into my deadly wounds;
I am too faint to Fight or Fly; and Mercy,
I deserve none, and will have none from Rebels,
I scorn to live by them who deserve death.
Fate Guards the Scaffold, but she hates the Office,
And will e're long let Rebels have their own.
I'm going! All you of
Plantagenets Race—
My comfort is in death: I kill'd your Father.
Fall's
Enter Edward, George, Richard, Warwick.
Ed.
Now the great cause is come to its decision:
Are any Troops gone to pursue the Queen?
On her tame
Henry's fortune does depend
As the Seas ebb and flow does on the Moon.
War.
Yes, I took care o' that.
Rich:
My chief care was,
To hunt the bloudy
Clifford, but I cou'd not
Find him among the living, or the dead.
War.
I thought you set death's mark so deep upon him,
Death cou'd not miss him.
Geo.
Fortune at us all
Play'd him to day, but when he was in danger,
Snatch'd him away again, as who shou'd say,
When I have lost this card my game is gone.
Cl.
Oh!—
(Groans)
Ed.
What Soul is that, that takes her heavy leave?
See who it is, and be he Friend or Enemy
Use him with mercy.
Ric.
No—'tis bloody
Clifford.
Ed.
Clifford?—
War.
Clifford?—
Geo.
Clifford?—
Rich.
He's dead! oh that he had but life,
And sense enough to see and hear, and know us!
That we might scoff him as he did our Father.
Ric.
Damn him, he counterfeits to shun our taunts.
Clifford, you know me, ask me mercy,
Clifford;
I am the Son of your dear Friend,
Plantagenet,
I'll pity you, for you did pity
Rutland.
Geo.
No answer? prithee swear as thou wast wont.
War.
He's dead I'm certain, if he does not swear.
Cl.
[Page 46]
Damnation on you all—
Ed.
He Curses! he Curses!
War.
Then there is hopes of him.
Ed.
'Twas his last Prayer:
Off with his Head, and place it on the pinacle,
Where the bold bloudy Slave durst place our Fathers.
War.
Now let the Trumpets proclaim
Edward King.
A Flourish of Trumpets.
Trum.
Long live
Edward the fourth, King of
England and
France,
And Lord of
Ireland.
(a Shout.)
War.
Now march to
London, Sir, I will to
France,
About the Marriage you so much approved of
With the fair Lady
Bona that Queens Sister.
Ed.
Oh! thou hast made me much in love with her
And all Relations have encreas'd my Passion.
War.
Sir, She's the fairest Creature in the Woorld;
And in that Marriage you will not only
Have a fair bedfellow for your delight,
But that great King your friend for your security.
Ed.
I cannot marry better; haste away.
War.
I'm glad of this, I have secur'd my Mistress.
Aside.
Some days ago (as you commanded me)
I did dispatch an Envoy to King
Lewis,
To make the offer, and he seem'd unwilling,
Not knowing what th' event of War wou'd be.
But now I with the Sword, that conquer'd
Henry,
Will go my self Embassador, and try,
If a
French King dare's deny any thing
To an
English conquering Sword.
Ed.
Oh! thou hast given me
A Crown, give me this Beauty, and thou art
A God to me, thy gifts are all divine.
Geo.
My life too on his bounty does depend.
War.
Is it in me to give you happiness?
Geo.
Yes, if a Father can bestow a Daughter.
War.
I shall be very proud, you will accept her.
Geo.
I shall be very happy to attain her.
War.
She shall be yours, if the King give consent.
Ed.
My Brother cou'd not have oblig'd me more
Than in this choice.
War.
Then she's at his devotion.
Geo.
Then I'm a happy man.
Ed.
The Earl of
Warwick
[Page 47]
Is the good Angel of our Family.
Ric.
Of what strange stuff so different from my Brothers
Am I made? they are all-over love;
I have appetite, but not one grain of Love.
Ed.
Thou art not of a mould for love to grow in;
Men plant not flowers in a Kitchen garden.
Well, Brother, I create you Duke of
Clarence.
You, Brother
Richard, I make Duke of
Gloucester.
Ric.
I do not like the Title, it is ominous.
Ed.
A foolish observation!—
War.
Royal Sir,
I'll take my leave.—
Ed.
Success attend thy Embassy.
Ex.
Geo.
I'll take my leave.—
Ed.
Success attend your love—
Ex.
Scene a Chamber.
Enter Lady Grey,
and her Woman.
La. Gr.
King
Henry beaten? poor unfortunate King!
I and my Children are all ruin'd with him;
The conquerors will seize my Husbands lands.
War.
Madam, the greatest Conquerour is your Friend,
The Earl of
Warwick, he'll preserve your Fortune,
Yes, and advance 'em, if you'l give him leave.
La. Gr.
Name not that insolent great man, I hate him.
Enter a Page.
Pa,
Madam, the Earl of
Warwick's coming up.
La. Gr.
He coming up? how knows he I am here?
Pa.
His Servants learnt it accidentally.
Enter Earl of Warwick.
War.
So near fair Widow, and my beating pulses,
And quivering flesh give me no notice of it?
For the kind needle never fails to tremble
When it approaches it's beloved Pole.
What have you paid formality her wages,
And turn'd off that old Governess of Women?
Have you yet dryed your eyes, and drawn your Curtains?
Is the Son good enough to be admitted o you?
If so I hope his humble kindred may,
For I am near a-kin to him in heat.
[Page 48]
In short you shall be mine, if I can give
Others a Crown, I'll give my self a wife.
La. Gr.
If you were serious, as I think you are not,
You give me a brave occasion to revenge
My Husbands blood and your affronts to me,
By making you unhappy in a Wife.
War.
Were you the first of Widows that talk'd thus,
I must confess I think 'twou'd damp my courage,
But when this is the constant language spoke
In the dark shady Land of Vailes and mourning,
Shou'd I be scar'd, I were as rank a fool
As the dull Heroe that shou'd leave a pleasant
Country he conquer'd, 'cause the people speak
A strange odd Language; you are a conquer'd Province
And you may keep your Language and your Customs;
But I will have the Government and Tribute.
La. Gr.
My Lord, I have affairs of greater consequence
Then this fond talk, and so your humble Servant.
War
So have not I, and therefore you shall stay.
La. Gr.
What do you mean my Lord?
War.
I mean, my Lady,
To marry you this day, enjoy you this night.
La. Gr.
My Lord, I tell you plainly I do not love you.
War.
All's one, I tell you plainly I will have you▪
I know you are a woman of great virtue,
And time will file away these rugged humours.
But if it do not, though your soul be rough,
Your body will be smooth, your Cheeks be soft,
Your eyes be sparkling, and your lips be tempting:
And more perhaps might make me mad with love.
Ho! call a Parson!
La. Gr.
Now my Lord?
VVar.
Ay! now.
La. Gr.
What, and my Husband dyed so very lately?
War.
What then? what has the dead to do with us?
La. Gr.
I'll rather go a begging with my Children.
War.
Come leave this fooling!—by this kiss you shall.
La. Gr.
I'll dye e're suffer all this barb'rous rudeness.
War.
VVell thou art a most beauteous Creature,
I'm going now Embassadour for
France,
I'll let thee keep thy humour one month more;
But then at my return be sure I find thee
Divorc'd from sorrow and the dead for ever;
Give not one sigh or to the dead or living.
Sigh thou for any Man alive but me
[Page 59]
And though a King he had better be a slave,
Sigh for the dead, I'll tear him from his Grave.—
Ex
La. Gr.
What shall I do? for I abhor this man.
What comes into my thoughts? is it not said
King
Edward (for we now must call him so)
Lodges to night at his own Neighb'ring Castle?
Wom.
Yes, Madam.
La. Gr.
I'm inform'd he is a Prince
Of a most noble Nature; I'm resolv'd
To fling my self in sorrow at his Feet,
And beg him to have pity on my Children,
What e're their Father was, they are not his Enemies;
And if I can obtain their Father's Lands,
Then I shall 'scape this man, I so much hate.
Ex.
Scene a Room of State.
Enter Edward, Richard,
Guards.
Ed.
The Scituation of this Castle pleases me.
Rich.
But, Sir, not me, for I'm afraid it stands
Too near a Beauty that once stopt your way,
And I'm afraid will do it once again.
Ed.
Women are moving Creatures, and may follow us.
Rich.
Pardon my confidence, I love to serve
My Friends as boldly as I fight my Enemies.
Ed.
You say well, Brother, and I'll promise you,
Nothing shall stay me here, beyond this night.
Enter a Lord.
Lord.
A Lady, Sir, desires to kiss your hands.
Ric.
A Lady? Pox o' Ladies; he is tinder
To every Lady, and will catch new fire.
Enter Lady Grey,
and her Women: She kneels, kisses King Edward's
hand, he raises her, and Salutes her.
Rich.
A very lovely woman! he is ruin'd!
Ed.
I ne're had Eyes, or my eyes ne're saw beauty,
Till this amazing minute.
Ric.
So! he's gone:
Any one may have
London now that will.
La. Gr.
Sir, I present you humbly the petition
Kneels again, and the King gazes.
Of a poor Widow, and her little Orphans:
[Page 50]
I am the Widow of one Sir
John Grey,
Who in S.
Alban's Battel lost his life,
In the defence of him we thought our King.
If my poor Husband's Loyalty did err,
He dearly for that fatal error paid.
My humble prayer is, that my poor Orphans
May not be punish'd for their Fathers Faults,
If erring Loyalty can be a fault.
Ed.
I am so rapt, I mind not what she say;
Nor that she is all this while upon her knees:
Pray, Madam, rise, —leave us—
To the Attendants.
Ric.
So she (I find)
Must grant a thing, before her thing be granted.
Ex.
Ed.
Had you a Husband, Madam, did you say?
La. Gr.
Yes, Sir, I had one at S.
Alban's Battel;
His Name was Sir
John Grey.
Ed.
Oh happy man!
What excellence had he above mankind,
That he shou'd be more blest than all mankind?
And have you Children?
La. Gr.
Many poor young Orphans.
Ed.
Oh! wondrous happy man t' enjoy this Woman!
I must inquire about her, I was never,
(Aside.)
Never so charm'd before. My Lord, come hither,
Pray do you know this Lady?
Lord.
Yes, Sir, well.
She is the Widow of Sir
John Grey of
Grooby,
A man of Quality, and great Estate.
But a most vehement
Lancastrian.
Ed.
No matter: of what Family is she?
Lord.
Her quality does far exceed her Husbands;
And yet her Virtue does exceed her quality.
She is the Daughter of Sir
Richard Woodvile,
Her Mother was sometimes Dutchesse of
Bedford.
Ed.
Dutchesse of
Bedford? Ha!
Lord.
Dutchesse of
Bedford.
And Daughter of the Earl of S.
Pool.
Ed.
Of noble birth, and by her Mothers side
Related to the house of
Lancaster.
Lord.
She is by Marriage, Sir; that was the cause
That Sir
John Grey was such a fierce
Lancastrian.
Ed.
She has Beauty, she has Virtue, she has Birth:
(Aside)
Why may not this fair Lady be a Queen?
But she's a Subject,
England will not like it.
And th'
English Nation, like the Sea it governs,
[Page]
Is bold and turbulent, and easily mov'd,
And always beats against the shore, that bounds it.
What? is the people free, and not the King?
Not free where every Slave is free, his bed?
Yes, so it is, it seems, and
English fury
Will easily with any wind be rais'd,
To dash the Palaces, and Beds of Kings.
Come what come will, this Lady shall be mine.
She shall be, or my Mistress, or my Wife.
What was it, Madam, you desir'd o' me?
La. Gr.
To give poor Orphans, Sir, their Father's Lands.
Ed.
Heaven forbid I shou'd retain 'em from 'em!
La. Gr.
Then, Sir, with humble thanks I take my leave.
Ed.
Hold, Madam, for I must have one word more,
I must impose a Tax upon this Land.
La. Gr.
It shall be thankfully, and gladly paid.
Ed.
It will I'm sure more gladly be receiv'd.
It is an easie Tax, no more but Love.
La. Gr.
No Loyal Subjects, Sir, but love their King.
Ed.
But this is love, that none but you can grant.
La. Gr.
I do not understand your meaning, Sir.
Ed.
Truly, I scarcely understand my self,
For I have gaz'd my self out of my Reason.
La. Gr.
With your permission, Sir, I'll take my leave.
Ed.
Oh! you shall never, never part from me.
La. Gr.
VVhat do you mean, Sir?
Ed.
I mean all the Love,
E're was or can be in the heart of man.
La. Gr.
Love, Sir?
Ed.
Ay Love.
La. Gr.
I dare not understand you,
Because I dare not think ill of my Prince.
Ed.
Can there be ill in Love? there will be all
The happiness to me, glory to you,
Your heart and mine can possibly desire.
Why do you tremble, and draw back your hand?
You must not, shall not stir till you have granted,
What all this languishing, and pressing means.
La. Gr.
Oh! I shall swoon! wou'd I had ne're come here!
Sir, I thus low most humbly beg of you,
Let it suffice your conquering armes have seiz'd
My Husbands life, your laws have seiz'd his Lands,
Seek not to take my honour, and my Vertue.
I never fought against you, ne're oppos'd you.
Ed.
I wrong her beauty, it deserves a Crown,
[Page 52]
Asid
[...]
[...]very look claims a Kingdom as it's due;
[...]nd I, who gain'd my right, shou'd not wrong others.
[...]adam, I mean nothing but honour to you,
[...] am resolv'd to make you Queen of
England.
La. Gr.
Now, Sir, you mean dishonour to your self.
[...] am as much unworthy to be Queen,
[...]s I'm above serving an ill design.
Ed.
Rather the crown's unworthy of your Beauty.
La. Gr.
It is impossible, you shou'd descend
[...]o such mean thoughts.
Ed.
It is impossible,
[...] shou'd have happiness without your Love.
[...] had rather with your Love be your dead Husband,
Than with your hatred be a living King.
La. Gr.
I lately wish'd I never had come here
[...]or my own sake, I wish it now for yours:
[...]h! think Sir, what will all your Subjects say?
Ed.
They'l say, I am in Love.
La. Gr.
But will they not
[...]e much displeas'd, their Prince shou'd love so low?
Ed.
I give them leave to chuse where they like best;
[...]hy shou'd I be the only man impos'd on?
La. Gr.
But I'm a Widow, and have many Children.
Ed.
And I have Children too, though I'm a Batchelour;
[...] we are tryed, and shall be sure of Heirs.
La. Gr.
But you have sent to Court a foreign Princesse,
[...]ay bring your Kingdom great advantages.
Ed.
Then set my Kingdom go and marry her.
La. Gr.
Consider, you may enrage the Earl of
Warwick.
Ed.
He is my Friend, and Servant, not my Guardian.
La. Gr.
But, Sir, they say you are promis'd to another.
Ed.
When I'm a priest I will do penance for it.
La. Gr.
I am afraid you'l lose your Subjects love.
Ed.
Why shou'd I lose their love, by loving Subjects?
La. Gr.
But you have many Subjects of more Beauty.
Ed.
My Subjects if they please may marry 'em.
[...] give them freedom, and I'll take my own,
[...] take it too this minute.
La. Gr.
At first sight?
[...]ou'l think me, Sir, immodest, shou'd I grant.
Ed.
A King is above forms; I'll have it so.
[...]en come away.
La. Gr.
What in this Mourning habit?
Ed.
I marry not your habit, but your self.
La. Gr.
The world will much condemn you, Sir.
Ed.
[Page 53]
I care not,
I had rather live a minute in your Armes,
Than many ages in the praise of Fools.
Enter a Gentleman.
Gent.
Most happy tydings, Sir!
Henry your Enemy,
Wandring alone, disguis'd in homely habit,
Was taken by the Keepers of the Forrest,
As he was reading in shady Covert.
Ed.
Good news indeed! where is he? bring him to me.
Enter King Henry
in a poor habit, brought in by a Couple of Forresters.
Why how now
Henry? in this humble dress?
Hen.
Insult not,
Edward, over my misfortunes,
But from this garb, in which thou scarce canst know me,
Learn thou to know thy self; for in my fall
Heaven humbles every King as well as me.
Ed.
Henry, I pity thee, thou dost not suffer
For thy own Crimes, but those of thy usurping
And trayterous Ancestours. To
London with him.
And keep him a close Prisoner in the Tower.
But let him there command all things but Liberty.
Ex. Hen.
with a guard.
How all my happinesses flow together:
A Crown upon my Head, my chiefest Enemy
Under my Feet, and Beauty in my Armes.
Ex.
Enter Richard.
Ric.
What's this? a Chaplain call'd for? he is mad—.
He'll marry her, and marry at first sight.
Marry a Subject, nay, and a mean Subject,
Nay, the poor wretched leavings of a Subject,
A Widow, and the Widow of a Knight!
I fear this Marriage will enrage the Kingdom,
But I fear more the furious
Warwick's Rage,
Whose haughty temper will not bear the affront
Of being sent on a mock-Embassy.
Now, though I'd have him fight him, have him kill him,
Kill both my Brothers, if he'd set up me:
But that he cannot do, for he must fight
In
Henry's Name, and so must set up
Henry.
He's not far from hence, I'll after him,
[Page 54]
And for my own sake I will pacify him;
And let the King mean while finish his marriage.
For I wou'd have him finish it, because
I'm told he has another Wife, if so,
The Children of this Marriage must be Bastards,
Then when I've kill'd
Henry, and his Son,
And by some Arts destroy'd my Brother
Clarence,
The King once dead, I'll Bastardize his Children;
Then am I King, but some will say by Villany:
That's Villany, that by it's ill success
Betray's a man and into ruin throws;
When once it gains a Crown, it vertue grows.
Ex.
The Scene a Chapel
Edward,
and Lady Grey,
A Priest, Attendants. The solemnity ended.
Enter Lady Elianor Butler.
La. El.
Ha! is it so? and can the news be true?
It cannot be, I'll not believe my Eyes,
I'll know the truth—King
Edward.
Ed.
Lady
Elianor?—
La. El.
My heart's so full I cannot speak to him.
Ha! is he shunning me? Nay, then he's guilty.
What is the cause, King
Edward, you wou'd shun me?
Am I so strangely chang'd since I last saw you,
You cannot bear my sight?
Ed.
No surely, Madam,
You are not alter'd for the worse, I'm certain,
And for the better 'tis impossible.
La. El.
Oh! Sir, your passion's dead, and you are weaving
Garlands of fine expressions for it's Funeral.
If my small beauty were extreamly improv'd,
I were a horrid sight to thee; an Angel
Is a most dreadful Vision to a sinner.
La. Gr.
Who is this?
Ed.
One your beauty Triumphs over.
La. El.
Come to the Bar, and answer me, great sinner,
What dost thou with this wretched Woman here?
How far hast thou undone thy Soul and her?
I'm told, thou hast sinn'd with her even to Marriage.
Thou durst not do it sure!—say, is it true?
Ed.
Madam, I must confess, 'tis very true.
La. El.
How? is it true?
Ed.
Yes, Madam, it is true.
La. El.
[Page 55]
What after all the Oaths thou hast sworn to me?
Ed.
Beauties, like palaces, have several ways
Of access to 'em; I believ'd those Oaths
A form of speaking, which did please you best.
What form o' damning in do you expect?
The lowest place in Hell?
Ed.
Rather a place
Among the Saints of the Old Testament.
La. El.
Yes, Jewish Saints; but pray, will Christian Saintship
Admit such things?
Ed.
Oh! yes! I, when I please,
Can have a dispensation from his Holiness.
La El.
What then his Holiness will be your pardon?
A very excellent office for a Pope!
To be the Universal Bawd of Christendom!
A very excellent Shepherd, that will give
His sheep a dispensation to be rotten!
Ed.
Well, you shall be my fair Confessor then,
I'll own my sins to you, and ask your pardon.
La. El.
And dost thou hope to have it?
Ed.
I will give you
Any other satisfaction.
La. El.
What? thy blood?
Do, kill thy self I swear I'll pardon thee.
Ed.
I wou'd do much for that; but I wou'd live
A little while to mend and to repent.
La. El.
Would'st thou repent? oh! I will pray thou mayst.
Oh may heaven lash thee with so many plagues,
May fill thee, and surround thee with repentance!
I will not curse this most unhappy VVoman;
For she alas! is curst enough in thee.
Poor VVoman, he has gull'd thee horridly,
For he has only pick'd the name of wife
Out of my Marriage sheet's, to hide thy shame with.
As for his love in which thou think'st thee happy,
'Tis like a Green-land-Summer, short and hot,
And whilst it lasts 'tis day, all smiling day,
But soon he goes to visit other provinces,
But oh! he never like the Sun returns.
Farewel, poor wretch, pitied not envied by me,
Thou think'st we part with very different fortunes,
I go to sorrow, and thou stay'st with joy;
Alas! I leave thee but in a fools paradise,
Ex
And very shortly we shall meet in Bedlam.
La. Gr.
[Page 46]
Oh, Sir, I like not this! this is an ill
Beginning o' this day.
Ed.
VVhy so, my Love?
That's well begun, that is begun with sacrifice,
She is thy sacrifice.
A Cry within, Arm, Arm. Treason, VVarwick! VVarwick!
Then Enter Warwick
and his Souldiers, and seize Edward,
and Lady Grey.
Ed.
Why how now
Warwick? What dost mean by this?
War.
What mean'st thou Duke to put this scorn upon me?
Ed.
Duke! when we parted thou didst call me King.
War.
Then I disgrac'd the Title, and I gave it
To one, who merit's not the name of Friend.
Were I a King, I'd hang that common Fellow,
That shou'd abuse a Friend, as thou hast me,
And such a friend as I have been to thee.
Ed.
Thou dost abuse thy self, in talking thus.
War.
Then it is no abuse to me, to make me
The scorn of every
French Page, and waiting Woman.
The Marriage is agreed on, nothing wanting
To compleat all, but my arrival there,
And all my Equipage and Train are gone.
Now, when instead of me, this news arrives,
I shall have all my Servants hist from
France,
My self be made a Common publick jest,
I shall be call'd the great Ambassador,
That goe's with splendour to negotiate nothing.
But my Embassage is but like my conquest,
For I have fought for thee, that is, for nothing.
I've stole the Royal Robes to adorn nothing,
And help it to another nothing—Woman.
La. Gr.
I'll tell you, Sir, whence all this fury spring's;
This haughty Lord, who thinks his Sword has given
Chains to our Sex, as well as to the men,
Did strive to drag me to his marriage bed.
And using many threats, I out of fear,
Made some faint yieldings, but he finding now
I'm plac'd above his reach, his burning envy
Seek's to destroy what he cannot attain;
Then calls his fury his revenge of honour.
Ed.
Is that the mystery indeed?
War.
Yes, Duke;
[Page 57]
Thou with a Crown hast bought a Widow from me;
And bought her with the Kingdom which I gave thee.
Ed.
Com'st thou to ruin me for love of beauty,
And thou thy self rebel for love of it?
War.
I come to punish thy ingratitude.
Ed.
I did not know thy Love, but say I did,
If I commit a fault to take a Woman,
To whom thou hast no right, then what dost thou,
Who plunder'st thy Kings Right, thy Countreys peace?
War.
Thy glory's mine, my Sword created it.
My Crime is thine, thy wrongs to me created it.
Ed.
I'm a great Criminal to wrong a Subject,
Thou none, to ruin both the King and Kingdom.
Thus men, like Bears, devour the young of others;
But strive to lick their own fowl Cubs to shape.
War.
I do no wrong in ruining you all,
I but restore to every thing it's own.
I to the Kingdom shall restore the damn'd
Confusion, which my Sword took away from it.
I shall resto
[...]e this Woman to her tears.
I found her weeping over her dead Husband:
I'll leave her weeping over thy dead fortunes.
I will restore thee, and all thy Family
To the subjection from which I advanc'd it.
Thy fortunes to their proper state I'll bring,
Beauty shallbe thy plague, thy foe thy King.
Ex.
ACT. V.
Scene London.
Enter King Henry
in a rich Robe, under a Canopy: The Queen and Prince followed by Warwick,
and Guards, with their Swords drawn. Shouts, and Acclamations. They pass over the Stage. The Scene changes to the Palace. Enter King Henry,
Queen, Prince, Warwick.
Qu.
NOw, Sir, you are King again, this valiant Lord
Has left the horrid desarts of Rebellion;
Where he, and all his glorious deeds were lost,
And found the Road of Honour.
War.
I confess,
Fortune did mislead me, and I the Kingdom,
[Page 58]
To give your Royal Rights to a false Prince,
Who has the Royal bloud, no Royal Vertues;
So has no right to Crowns those vertues gain'd.
Hen.
I give you thanks, my Lord, for your great gifts;
Life, Freedom, and a Crown; I call 'em gifts,
'Cause you can take 'em from me, or let me keep 'em.
To Life, and Freedom, I have a clear Title;
Because I ne're did any ill, to forfeit 'em.
But oh! I am afraid to wear the Crown
For fear I share the murder that procur'd it.
Qu.
Oh! Spiritless Prince! born for a Chain, a Prison:
What if your Grandfather murder'd his King?
Must you take Physick for his sicknesses?
Nay, must you dye? for a Kings Crown and Life
Go both together; So King
Richard found it.
Pr.
Sir, all our lives wholly depend on yours.
And for one fault of my dead Grandfather,
Which he perhaps repented, will you punish
Thousands? You will sin to lose a Crown,
More than my Grandfather did do to gain one.
Qu.
If you will doom your self to be depos'd,
Because the Crown was gotten by ill means;
By the same law
You may hang half your Kingdom:
If men by inheriting their Fathers Fortunes,
Inherit the Crimes, by which their Fathers gain'd 'em,
Where is the Nation wou'd not deserve hanging?
War.
Sir, talk no more; you are, and shall be King.
All power is from Heav'n, Earth, or Hell.
Heav'n send's you his consent in my sucess,
The People send you all their votes in me;
Hen.
My Lord, I have a Conscience I'll not part with
For this and many Kingdoms; but you tell me,
That Royal Virtue first gave royal Power;
Now I have Royal Virtue,
Edward none;
And therefore I must Reign, and he be ruin'd.
Oh! my Lord, this is a confounding principle.
If Kings may lose their Rights for want of Virtue,
And Subjects are the Judges of that Virtue;
Then Kings are Subjects, and all Subjects Kings:
And by that Law that Subjects may destroy
Their Kings for want of Virtue, other Subjects
May think those Subjects Rogues, and cut their throats.
Thus
Babel might be builded, but no Kingdom.
Pr.
[Page 59]
Sir, if you be no King, we are all Rebels,
And ought to dye.
War.
And you shall reign or dye;
If you refuse the Crown, I'll carry it back;
And with it both your heads, to ransom mine.
I'll quench your lives, as Mariners wou'd do
False lights, that lead their Vessels to destruction.
Qu.
Why do you pause, Sir, will you rather dye,
And let your Son dye too, e're be a King?
Hen.
Powerful Nature is too hard for me.
Will it not cost more bloud, if I shou'd Reign?
War.
The VVar is at an end,
Edward's my Pris'ner;
Not only doom'd by Heaven unfit to Reign;
But by his flesh and bloud, his Brother
Clarence,
VVho has revolted from him, and brought all
His Troops to mine, and to create between us
A lasting league, marries my youngest Daughter.
Pr.
And I have given my heart, Sir, to her sister.
Oh! do not make me wretched every way.
Hen.
Oh! Nature conquer's me!
Qu.
Oh! happy conquest.
Pr.
Upon my knees, Sir, I return you thanks.
Enter George.
War.
See, here come's he, who gallantly to serve
His King and Country will forsake his Brother.
Geo.
I thought my blood derived a Crown to us,
But now I find it derives only Treason,
To clear the taint, I come to set it boyling
Over a flaming zeal for the Kings service.
War.
VVhat think you now, Sir? do you judge your title
Good, when your very Enemies proclaim it?
Hen.
I find it's Heav'ns will, that I shou'd Reign.
My noble Friends, let me embrace you both.
My Lord of
Warwick you are fortunate,
I must beg you to rule, for I'm afraid,
My thwarting Stars will blast this blessed Land.
War.
Your Majesty is wise, to foresee evils,
And good, that you wou'd save your people from 'em.
Here stands a Prince most worthy of command.
Geo.
The world has not more worth, than th' Earl of
Warwick.
Hen.
Give me your hands, I joyn you both together.
I make you both Protectors of the Kingdom,
Rule you, while I wait only on devotion.
Qu.
[Page 60]
So, now, my Son, thy inheritance is safe.
Pr.
May I be happy in my Mistress too?
Qu.
Yes, if the King consent.
Hen.
With all my heart.
War.
The Marriages shall then be both this minute.
Hen.
VVith whom is
Edward trusted?
War.
With my Brother,
The Arch-bishop of
York.
Geo.
I'm told he gives him liberty
To hunt; and let's him go out slender guarded.
War.
I will have that reform'd; in the mean while,
We openly will proclaim
Edward a Traytour,
And seize his Lands.
Geo.
Let's guard this City well;
He has friends here, chiefly among the Women;
And they rule men.
Scene London.
Enter
Edward, Richard, disguis'd.
Ed.
Usurping
Henry, and false changing
Warwick
Little think certain ruin is so near 'em.
Ric.
I cannot tell what absolution
The Priest of
York may give his Brother
Warwick,
For all his horrid perjury's and Treason's,
Warwick will give him none for your escape.
Ed.
I shou'd be sorry if mine host, th' Arch-bishop,
For all his civil entertainment of me,
Shou'd have his reck'ning paid him with an Ax.
Ric.
So 'shou'd I too, for if instead of giving you
The publick Freedom, which you had to hunt;
He had confin'd you to
Domitians chace,
Only to hunt flyes in a bedchamber,
You had not now been here to hunt his Brother.
Well, Sir, Go you to all your City Friends,
I'll to the Court; I have intelligence,
How I may easily surprize your Enemies,
If it be feazible, I'll venture on it.—
Ex
The Scene a Chapel.
Prince, George,
their Brides, and a Priest at the Altar; near 'em King Henry,
Queen, Warwick,
Guards, Attendants.
A Shout; Enter an Officer.
Off.
Arm! Arm! Arm! Lord
Edward's in the City.
War.
[Page 61]
Thou art mad.
Off.
I wish I were. I say, Lord
Edward
Is in the City.
War.
In the Womens hearts?
Off.
No, in the head of Troops of men and Women.
There's nothing that can get a Pike or Spit,
But cry they'l live and dye by brave King
Edward.
Richard is with him; they are all marching hither.
War.
Oh! good Arch-bishop,
You are a faithful Brother,
We are very wise to trust our souls with priests,
When their own Brothers cannot trust their heads with 'em:
I know this Trayt'rous Priest has sold my head
To
Edward, for th' Archbishoprick of
Canterbury.
Hen.
Do not too rashly censure an Archbishop.
Edward might 'scape by wiles.
War.
How? cheat a Priest?
Then he deserves the Kingdom for his cunning.
Do you think it is easie to cheat priests,
Who by the help, but of some barbarous words;
As,
Entity, Ʋnity, Verity, Bonity,
Quiddity, Quantity, Quality, Causality,
Have conjur'd all you Kings out of their Kingdoms?
And
Edward cheat a Priest,
Who let a VVidow cheat him of his Kingdom?
Oh! but you'll say, a VVoman cheated
Adam.
But Priests cheat women, cheat 'em too of things
Dear to 'em as their lives, their bawdy secrets.
They make S.
Peter's Keys
Open all
Italian locks—enough of prating.
I'll go beat
Edward, and then hang my Brother.
My Lord,
Draw up your Troops; you, Sir, stay here:
To K. Hen.
You are unfortunate,
I do not care,
To have your curs'd Stars among my men.
Ex.
Qu.
I'll follow, and do you, Son, leave your Bride,
And go with us, for I'm resolv'd to see thee
Heir to the Crown, or dying at my Feet.
Ex.
Pr.
Fear nothing, Love, I shall return victorious
Your Royal blessing! —
Kneels to the King.
Hen.
VVhat sad divining thoughts are these within me?
Pr.
Oh Sir, why do you weep?
Hen.
For thee, my Son.
[Page 62]
I'm bound in duty to thy soul to tell thee,
Something from Heaven suggests our deaths are near.
Thou first must dye, I must behold the loss
Of all that's dear to me, and then must dye.
Pr.
Oh Sir! —
Hen.
'Tis so! we never in this world
Must meet again.
Pr.
Oh how shall I be able
To fight, when e're I see the enemy,
My King and Father wounds me to the heart?
See, my Love's weeping too, I'm shot o' both sides;
And in my heart the deadly Arrows meet:
I'll rather run among the Enemies Swords,
Than here be kill'd with sorrow by my Friends.
Ex.
Geo.
So, now will I go joyn my Brother
Edward:
(Aside.)
I am secure of
Warwick's beautious daughter.
Now let the Devil take
Warwick and his Treason,
He made me take that brass Coin with his Daughter;
But I will pay him the damn'd portion back again.
He made me swear he'll say, but war's a game,
And so is Love, and Gamesters Oaths are nothing.
My Brothers Souldiers are got in the palace,
An Alarm.
They seek their Enemies, but shall find Friends.
Ex.
An Alarm.
Enter Richard, George,
Souldiers, and seize Henry
and the Women.
Ric.
How now! thou Traytour! thou unnatural Traytor!
Geo.
Thou wrong'st me, I am as Loyal as thy self.
VVhat I have done, was only in design
To gain this beauty, and now she is mine
My Loyalty is mine.
Ric.
Can this be true?
Geo.
Thou saw'st it true, thou saw'st I fought for thee.
Ric.
Thou didst; but I believ'd it was thy Cowardize,
That made thee now betray thy Friend, as lust
Made thee betray thy Brother.
Geo.
It is false.
And if I don't appear to day in Battel,
As valiant, and as Loyal as thy self,
I'll kill my self.
Ric.
Do that, and I'll embrace thee.
But let's away: our Royal Brother wants us.—
Ex.
The Scene the Field.
Enter VVarwick,
Queen, Prince, guards.
Qu.
Oh! cursed Traytour! why wou'd you e're trust
One that was always false?
War.
I was bewitch'd,
To trust a man, who had betray'd his Brother.
Pr.
My Fathers words now sink into my breast;
He said at parting, we shou'd never meet
On Earth again.
War.
VVell if the Villains murder him,
I will revenge his bloud, and make you King.
VVhen e're I went to work to make a King,
I ne're yet fail'd, whatever stuff I had;
But hark the Traytors come! let us fall on.
Ex. Trumpets.
An Alarm.
Enter Edward,
Enter Lady Elianor
in mans habit.
La. El.
Turn this way,
Edward; here's an Enemy,
Thirsts for thy bloud.
La. El. and Ed.
Fight, La. El.
falls.
Ed.
VVhat bold young man is this?
Thou art dispatch'd, I wonder who thou art.
La. El.
Look on me well—see if thou dost not know me.
Ed.
May I believe my eyes!
La. El.
Thou may'st, King
Edward,
They speak more truth, than e're thou didst to me.
Ed.
Oh! killing sight!
La. El.
VVou'd thou hadst never seen me,
The cold Earth had not been my Death-bed then,
Nor had I needed (as I do) two graves,
One for my self, the other for my name.
Ed.
Oh Heaven!
How have I wrong'd this beautious Creature!
First robb'd her of her Fame, now of her Life!
La. El.
Ah! Monarch, do I merit this for Love?
Ed.
Oh no, but I deserve a thousand plagues;
And I have here with my own hand broke open
A fair
Pandora's box to let 'em out,
To fly about my head.
La. El.
Indeed, King
Edward,
My injuries have already found thee out,
[Page 64]
Have driven thee from thy throne, how far will drive thee,
I cannot tell, I will not curse thee now:
Cursing is not a language spoke in Heaven,
And I am very near that glorious Kingdom,
Therefore I'll speak the language that is blessing.
May this be the last day of all thy Troubles!
And I be the last woman thou shalt wrong!
May Heaven forgive thy broken Vows, as I do,
And quicklier forget 'em all than thou didst!
And this one poor request I beg of thee:
Since I was all the staine of my great Family,
And I have made thy self, who wert the cause of it,
With thy own Sword, cut out the ruined piece,
Oh hide it, where it may no more be seen,
But be forgot by all, as 'twill by thee!
Dyes.
Ed.
She's gone! She's gone!
Oh! thou sweet injur'd beauty,
I never shall forget thee whilst I live,
Thy wrongs I fear will haunt my mind and fortune,
In this sweet spot of Earth I fear I've planted
Much mischief for my self; I gather'd all
The Sweets, and now Thorns will spring up to tear me.
Enter an Officer.
Offi.
Oh Sir, the Earl of
Warwick ranges o're
The Field, with so much fury, and success
Your Troops are just upon the point of flying.
Ed.
My punishment so soon pursue my Crime!
This beauties wrongs steel that proud Rebels Sword,
And give it all the kneenness that it has.
Oh Heav'n hide thy eyes from this sweet Creature,
At least for this one hour; and here I vow,
I will give o're robbing such spicy Isles,
And take an honest dwelling at my own,
Lest sailing to a fro a Tempest fall,
That shall revenge the injuries of 'em all.
Ex.
Enter Edward
and VVarwick
Fighting, VVar.
falls.
Ed.
Now I am King of
England; and I owe,
My Crown to my own Sword, and not to thine.
War.
Insult not,
Edward. for I am not kill'd
By thee, but
Henries cursed Destiny.
I'm crush'd under the wheels of his damn'd fortune,
[Page 65]
I am ground all to pieces by his Stars.
My fortune sickned when I first came under 'em;
Truth is, my Spirit led her such a dance,
She cou'd not keep me company, but tyr'd,
Now sit's her down, and like a poor cast Whore,
Is glad to be pick'd up by any body.
Now thou maist banish fear, for I am dying;
Who, when I liv'd, cou'd frown thee into a Subject,
Bury thee in the wrinckle of my brow.
Ed.
Talk not of burying Kings, but rather think
Of burying all thy Crimes in penitence.
War.
My greatest Crime is, that I e're serv'd thee,
Whose base ingratitude has ruin'd me;
I gave thee Kingdoms, and thou giv'st me death.
Dyes.
Ed.
I ne're wrong'd thee, nor didst thou e're serve me,
Thou hast been wrong'd by nothing, but my ignorance,
And hast serv'd nothing, but thy vanity;
And nothing else I fear will e're reward thee.
Enter George, Richard,
and Guards.
Geo.
Now, Sir, I hope you will forgive my errours
For Beauties sake, for Beauty drew me in,
And you have felt the mighty power of Beauty.
Ed,
Brother, your errours are all buried under
Heaps of my Enemies, you have kill'd today.
I have dispatch'd my greatest Enemy;
Warwick will make, and unmake no more Kings.
Ric.
And the bold Amazon Queen, and insolent Boy,
Her fierce Son
Edward, are both taken Prisoners.
I've order'd, Sir, they shall attend you here.
And here they are.
Enter Queen, Prince, Guarded as Prisoners.
Ed.
So, Madam!—and young
Edward,
What satisfaction will you make to me,
For all the Mischief you have done my Kingdom,
And all the Trouble you have given me?
Pr.
What satisfaction wilt thou make my Father,
Me, and the Kingdom, for thy bold usurping
My Fathers Crown, and my inheritance,
Ruining us, and slaughtering our people?
Qu.
Oh! that thy Father had been so resolv'd!
Ric.
[Page 66]
That so your Distaff might have been our Scepter.
Pr.
Why, how now Aesop? Nay, mistake me not,
Aesop I mean in Body not in mind.
Ric.
Brat!—I will crush thy brains out.
Ed.
Hold, forbear—
He is a Boy.
Ric.
Why, then to School with him,
To learn him manners,
Pr.
If I learn thy manners,
The Devil must be my Tutour.
Ed.
Hold your peace,
You foolish Child.
Geo.
The Boy's too malapert.
Pr.
The man is too perjur'd, I mean perjur'd
George,
And you are all Traytors to me your Prince.
Ed.
How now, proud Boy? take that.
Strikes him with his hand.
Ric.
Nay, then take that—
Geo.
And that for twitting me with Perjury.
Rich.
and Geo.
draw, and kill him.
Qu.
Oh! they have kill'd my Son — oh murderers!
Oh! kill me too.
Ric.
Marry with all my heart!
The Qu. swoons upon the Prince.
Ed.
Hold, Brother, we have done too much already.
Why wou'd you cruelly kill the poor Boy?
I struck him in my Choler, but I meant him
No farther harm.
Ric.
Who cou'd forbear?—besides,
Shou'd we have let him live to cut our Throats?
Geo.
What wou'd have grown up with him but Rebelion?
Why shou'd a Sprig grow up to be a Tree,
That wou'd breed nothing else but Caterpillars?
Ed.
His Mother Swoon's, use means for her recovery.
Qu.
Oh, my dear Son is kill'd! my Son is kill'd!
Speak to thy Mother, Son! can'st thou not speak?
Oh murd'rers, Butchers, Traytors, Cannibals.
Ric.
Hence with this rayling Woman.
Qu.
Ay hence with me,
Out of the world; I prithee,
Richard, kill me:
Murder is all the Almes thou givest the miserable;
Bestow thy bloudy Charity upon me;
Have pity on a Queen that begs it of thee.
Ric.
We pity not those that are born to beggery;
If thou dost beg, 'tis but thy native poverty.
Ed.
[Page 67]
Insult not o're a miserable Woman;
Madam, I pray go hence, you shall be us'd
With all respect.
Qu.
All the respect of Murderers
Is death; Oh! bloudy
George do thou bestow it.
Geo.
I swear I will not do thee so much kindness.
Qu.
Ay, but thou usest to forswear thy self.
Ed.
Madam, pray go—
Qu.
Oh!
Edward, Richard, George,
Be it to you, and yours, as to this Prince,
For 'twere a shame the Sons of Executioners
Shou'd e're be Kings.
Ric.
Away, with her!—away with her.
The Guard lead out the Qu and carry out the Pr.
Now I will to the
Tower to dispatch
Henry,
Aside.
Till he be kill'd our work is done by halves.
Ex.
Geo.
Sir, If you please, I'll visit my young Bride.
Ex.
Ed.
I have a Beautious Bride to visit too—
Ex.
Scene, a Room in the Tower, Henry
Sleeping. Enter the Ghost of Richard
the Second.
Gh.
Wake,
Henry, wake to weep, then sleep for ever;
Thy Kingdom's gone, thy only son is kill'd,
A Dagger is preparing for thy Bosom;
And when thy bloud is shed, my bloud will sleep.
I'm that King
Richard, whom thy Grandfather
Depos'd, and murder'd; and both long and loud
My bloud for vengeance call'd, and vengeance had,
First in the wounded Conscience of thy Grandfather,
Whom all the Royal Oyntment cou'd not heal.
He liv'd in trouble, and he dy'd with horror.
And next on the short life of thy great Father;
Who liv'd no longer than to beget thee,
Who hast lost all the glories of thy Father,
And dost inherit nothing but the curses,
Due to thy Grand-father; nor doe's the storm
Of vengeance only fall on the Usurpers,
But on the Souls, and miserable Race
Of all the Traytors, and the Fools, that Flatter'd
Thy Grandfather's successful Villany;
Who did not know, Kings cannot dye alone.
And now their names are rotting, Children dying,
Their Houses burnt on Earth, their Souls in Hell.
Grin at your Grandfathers, you dying wretches
[Page 68]
Cover'd all o're with shame, and dust, and bloud:
For this Estate their Villany conveigh'd you,
Th' ascending dirty Vapours of the Earth
Breed all the storms ith' Ayr. When e're Oh!
England,
Thou hast a mind to see thy Cities fir'd,
Thy people slaughter'd, and thy Country desolate,
Send all the dirty Traytours in the Kingdom
To climb the Royal Rights, and Throne invade,
Then a high road for vast destruction's made.
The Ghost goes out, and enters with soft Musick one clad in a white Robe.
Spir.
Let not this frightful Vision, pious
Henry,
Disturb thy gentle Soul; it is not rais'd,
To breed a storm, now thou art near thy Haven;
Rather to calm the Tempest in thy mind,
By pointing to thee, on what dismal Rock
Thy Kingdom, and thy life are cast away,
The bloudy usurpation of thy Grandfather.
The Crown of
England is not made of Clay
The Common people, so can ne're be crumbled
Into that dirt, 'tis not compos'd if it:
Nor made of Iron, the Sword, so cannot rust;
But of unmingled solid lasting Gold,
Of Antient Rights, and 'tis the gift of Heav'n,
Therefore to Heaven only can be forfeited,
Therefore 'tis call'd Imperial and Sacred,
And therefore carefully rail'd in by Laws;
And torn will be his sacrilegious hand,
Who has no Right to it, and yet dares reach it,
And dares presumptuously pretend a Right,
Because he stands upon the peoples heads,
Such was the bold Ambition of thy Grandfather,
And heav'n frowns upon his Sins, not thee:
Then do not think thy self unkindly us'd,
Religious
Henry, that Heaven takes away,
What is not thine; all that is truly thine
Thou shalt not part with, but for great advantages,
Thy Son is taken from thee here; to live with thee
Above for ever; thou shalt lose thy life,
Only to exchange it for Eternity;
Lose humble quiet, for exalted Joy;
A taste of which wafted in Heavenly Harmony,
Pure as this lower drossy air admits,
I bring thee down to raise thy Spirits high.
A SONG Sung by Spirits to King Henry as he lies asleep.
COme, Heavenly Spirits, comforts bring,
To the most miserable thing,
Can be on Earth, a Ruin'd King.
As all the Joyes on Earth Ʋnite,
To make his prosp'rous Fortune bright;
So every woe, to shade his Night.
He has but one poor Joy, the Grave,
A thing that's free to every Slave,
And that with ease he cannot have.
For Daggers, Swords, and Poyson lye
To guard his Tomb, and make him buy
With pain the wretched ease to dye.
But comfort, Prince, thy death is near,
For Dead thou hast no more to fear,
A fallen Monarchs Hell is here.
To Fortune he can nothing owe,
For all that e're she did bestow,
He payes again in heavy woe.
They Vanish; and Henry
wakes.
Hen.
What have I seen and heard?—Oh! come my murderers,
And set me forwards on my way to Heaven,
Whilst I've such rich provisions for my journey.
Enter Richard
and the Keeper.
Here comes my murderer, less horrid to me
In bringing Death, than bringing to my sight
[Page]
The horrid Author of my sweet Son's de
[...]
For so in dream it was reveal'd to me▪
My bloudy Grandfather destroy'd King
Richard,
And now a bloudy
Richard destroys me.
Ric.
Go, leave us to our selves, we must confer.
Hen.
What bloudy Scene has
Roscius now to Act?
Ric.
Do you suspect me? fear haunt's guilty minds;
The Thief thinks every bush an Officer.
Hen.
The Bird that sees the Bush where once it self
Was lim'd, and it's sweet young lim'd caught and kill'd,
Cannot but hover round it with misdoubt.
Ric.
What an aspiring Fool was he of
Creet,
VVho taught his Son the office of a Fowl?
And drown'd the Boy by teaching him to fly.
Hen.
Indeed my Boy was
Icarus, thy Brother
Edward the Sun that did dissolve his wings,
And thou the gulph that swallowed up his life.
But many a thousand wretched Father more,
And many an Orphans water-standing eye,
And many a Widows Groan, and old man's Sigh
Shall rue the Hour that ever thou wast born.
When thou wast born, nature by horrid signes
Gave notice to the world of coming Mischief;
The Birds of night did shrieke and cry to tell,
That Hour there was a Child of darkness born.
Winds blew down Trees as hell were making gallowses,
Thy mother had a kind of Hellish pain
As She had been in labour of a Devil.
Thy legs came first, and thou wert born with Teeth,
And cam'st to bite—
Ric.
I'll hear no more—dye Prophet,
Stabs. Hen.
For this (among the rest) I was ordain'd!
Hen.
I, and for much more slaughter after this.
Heaven forgive me my sins, and thee this murder!
Ric.
Thou didst say truth, I came with my legs forward
Into the World, but 'twas to o're take thee,
And all that stand between the Crown and me.
Enter the Lieutenant.
Ric.
What noise is that?
Lieu.
The King is coming, Sir,
And all the Court with him, to see the Prisoner,
And comfort him; the King intends to keep
His Court here till his Coronation.
Rich.
Nay, then I must be gone, he will be angry
At what I've done—
Ex.
Ed.
Where is your prisoner?
Lieu.
He's murder'd.
Ed.
Murder'd? Oh! thou bl
[...]dy Villain
Durst thou do this, when I commanded thee
To give him all Princely respect and usage?
Lieu.
Sir, on my knees I do beseech you hear me:
Your Brother, my Lord
Richard, came to visit him,
And was left with him by his own command,
And now he's fled; that none but he co
[...]'d do this deed.
Geo.
Sir, I believe him; this is like my Brother.
Ed.
Heaven to his crooked shape has bent his soul.
He was design'd for mischief, and thrust forward
Unfinish'd in the World to lose no time
And I believe if we don't watch him narrowly,
He'l make no scruple to use us as rudely,
For crowding rudely into the world before him;
But I believe I'm safe,
England, by this time,
Has had enough of Rebels, and Usurpers.
I fancy now the Sons of those poor Gentlemen,
Those honest foolish cheated Gentlemen,
Who did turn Rebels but they meant no harm,
Who fought their King, slaughter'd their Friends, and Kinsmen,
Destroy'd their Country, but they meant no harm,
And for reward had all their houses burn'd.
Their Wives and Daughters ravished, their lands seiz'd,
And themselves knock'd o'th' head, but meant no harm.
I say, I fancy their unhappy Off-spring
Will prove exceeding honest Loyal Subjects,
For by their Fathers Ruine they have learnt VVit.
Geo.
That's all a Nation gets by Civil War.
Ed.
Yes, with the Prodigal th
[...]
[...]rn, 'tis better
Obeying their Kings, the Fathers of their Country,
Than run and wast their Fortune and their Liberties,
And do the drudgeries of proud Usurpers,
Who will perhaps set 'em to keep their Swine.
And after a long beggery and slavery
Return with shame and sorrow to their Loyalty.
Take up the Body of that unfortunate Prince,
I will bestow Royal interrement on it.
His, and the Kingdom's dreadful Ruines prove,
A Monarch's Right is an unshaken Rock,
No storms of War nor time can wear away,
And Wracks those Pirates that come there for prey.
Ex.
EPILOGUE.
TO
[...]
How pall'd
[...]
He
[...]
Damn
[...]
So naustous
[...]
All the delights
[...]
No
[...]on
[...]
[...]hen sinners
[...]ow devout, they
[...]
The Nation, of
[...]
That in vile
[...]
The ayd of Rascals for
[...]
Is in a malady
[...]
As the young Spark, who
[...] scorn'd▪
Grown deadly sick, is a Fanatick turn'd▪
And beg in his o' Paper
[...] and down▪
The Prayers of all the
[...]
Oh! we are sick, at least our
[...]
England, is ne're, devout
[...]
Our Fathers to their cost
[...]
And small things will make mad men fight, you know,
Oh! what a Bedlam o
[...]
[...] this sweet place,
When graceless Rogues did
[...]ight about free grace?
And wilful Fool wou'd
[...]
His bloud, who durst say
[...] had a free-will?
Of all our Civil
[...] shewn
To day, our Nation with least
[...] may own.
For Subjects then for loyalty did
[...]ight,
And Princes to maintain
[...]
Ye
[...]
[...]hos
[...] rich Ornaments
[...]
From gracing that fowl
[...]
How ugly then
[...]
With
[...] before, but
[...]
Such a poor Nation
[...]
Those two wou'd ride
[...] Devil
Learn then, by what
[...]
To keep your wit,
[...]
Better at Dice to throw away your
[...]
Your time at
[...]
Than by dam
[...]
[...] bloudy strife
[...]
No one knows
[...] by the Rent▪
Have your
[...] plunder'd, and your brains bear
[...]
And dye like J
[...]suites to by the
[...]
FINIS