 | Queen Catharine |  |
SCENE the Camp. Enter King Edward, meeting Gloucester.
Ed.
What news, my careful Gloucester?
Glou.
Victory still attends the King; the very Scouts and Forragers
Return, being flush'd and redned with Success.
Edw.
These are all steps to fix us on the Throne;
But still the Root of Lancaster, and Branches too,
Must be remov'd, least building o'er them
We totter, and Clarence be ours or lost.
Glou.
Lost in death e're ruine us. Daring like yours
In not proceeding does backward go;
Fair Isabella consents to Clarence's Follies,
And e're morning hopes to escape.
Edw.
That must be prevented.
Glou.
It shall, the Hammer's lifted here, and when
It strikes, the work is finished. The night
Under her Sable Wings shall hatch such deeds,
Will fright the blushing dawn: Suppose Ludlow Castle yours,
The Queen, on a pretext, that shall seem just,
Remov'd, Tudor slain, either on his March, or else
Within the Walls.
Edw.
Attempt both; they who wou'd succeed, must leave
The least to Chance, and catch at every opportunity.
Glou.
This way Clarence moves, as Malavill informs me,
Here I will stay and meet the fiery youth,
Dash all his quiet with the Fiend Jealousie,
Which Weed, Planted by a cunning hand,
Will quickly grow in the warm soil of his
Fierce passion, and even overshoot the love,
Which he so long has cherish'd.
Edw.
Use him, dear Gloucester as his Folly has
Deserv'd.
Glou.
What Paper's that?
Edw.
A Letter from the forsaken Eleonora.
Glou.
Leave it with me: I have a sudden
Thought it may be usefull.
Edw.
Take it: thou art a perfect Chymist
In extracting ruin. I dare trust all
To thy management.
(Exit.
Glou.
Here comes Natures other Favourite;
Enter Clarence.
'Twas base, 'twas barbarous! the choicest
Beauty of the Nation rifled, and then despis'd.
(Looking upon the Letter.
Clar.
What means my Brother?
Glou.
Your Pardon, Duke of Clarence, I saw you not,
Here's a melancholy complaint
From the wretched Elenora.
Clar.
Her fate is hard, and much my temper
Differs from the King's.
Glou.
That Sacred name raises him above
Our Reprehension, tho' not to him, of him
Who can forbear to speak; that has a Soul
In which true honour has a Residence
Has he not, like the wanton Summer fly,
Blown upon and tainted all our Beauties?
Is there a Maid of Quality or Fortune,
Whom he has not attempted, or at least
Married to some Favourite fawning Minion;
While we the branches too of mighty York,
Only are neglected?
Clar.
The Ladys Case transports you; were I dispos'd
To marry, the King shou'd not chuse for me.
Glou.
My Lord, no choice is left, is there in all the Court,
One of an unsullied fame, whose Beauty, or
Whose Quality is fit for Princes Arms?
Clar.
I'll not dispute the matter, but I think there are.
Glou.
There are! you speak as if they abounded,
Name me but one, and I'll recant in Veneration
To such a rarity; forgive the rest, and touch
Their fames no more.
Clar.
What think you then of beauteous Isabella?
The studied Workmanship and hand of Heaven,
Nothing can transcend her Divine person,
But the unspotted Soul, that dwells within.
Glou.
What Isabella, Queen Catharine's Ward,
Thyrrold's Isabella, is't she you thus extravagantly
Describe.
Clar.
How Gloucester! now I have found thee subtle
In malice, all the workings of thy brain
Are like the dismal Policies of Hell;
Which still produce a mischief.
But do not mention her again!
I charge thee do not: For by the sacred blood
That fills her veins, the blood of Bedford and of Burgundy
Both Royal Stems, you shall not dare?
Glou.
Not dare, Prince?
Clar.
No, not dare. Lay all your plots on me;
Cover me all over with detraction, as with a Leprosie,
But touch not Isabella; I will bear it.
Glou.
Go on, my Brother, and when your passion's o'er,
Too late consider, if I've deserv'd this usage.
Clar.
What have I done! how came her name in Question?
Oh! Gloucester, Gloucester! thou art deep and cunning,
I but a shallow stream, and as I stand between,
Shall be surely forded o'er;
Edward and Gloucester both may take my life,
But of my Love, there's neither shall deprive me.
Glou.
I knew not Isabella grew so near you.
'Twas common Fame occasion'd what I said,
That as the Queen, descended to Love Tudor,
So Isabella had made Thyrrold hers.
Rumor's the Child of Error, if I've caught
A Falshood, why shou'd that create a Quarrel.
Clar.
A Quarrel, there is none. The King and you
Possess the glories you atchieve in War,
My happiness lies in another Sphere. Farewell.
[Exit.
Glou.
Happiness is a Rosie path you ne'er shall tread;
The Hornet, I have thrown into your bosom,
It buzzes now: But it shall sting anon.
Dissimulation, thou art mine;
My rage, was high as his, and spite much more: but dear dissimulation
Cover'd all the fury of my Soul, and it shall be vented the safest way.
Enter Malavill.
Mal.
I met the Duke, my master; methought his
Looks were full of discontent.
[Drum beats.
Glou.
I gave it him; hark, a distant Drum is the signal
I order'd at the approach of Tudor: what, ho! Captain,
Enter Captain.
Is the detachment ready?
Capt.
My Lord, it is.
Glou.
Lead them towards the Castle, there as I told you you'll
Meet with Tudor, when you encounter him, if his force,
Is stronger than you expected, urge not too far, at night
I shall use you, and those that you command.
Capt.
With utmost care your orders shall be obey'd.
[Exit.
Glou.
Will Sir James Thyrrold come to the
Appointed place?
Mala.
He will, and is impatient till he
Knows your Grace's pleasure.
Glou.
Clarence is even to rashness brave, that
Will make forget the nicer forms of
Different Quality; after our Conference,
See me again, if your Lord calls and seems uneasie,
Cast forth doubtfull Words; if Jealousie
Appears, feed it with oyl. I've
Told the King thy merits of thy Intelligence
And Honour waits to Crown thy Service.
Mala.
Thanks, noble Sir, your long tasted Bounty
Secures me still your Slave, I'll to my Lord,
And watch his every motion.
[Exit Mala.
Glou.
Go thy ways, Traytor, that's thy proper name,
Oh! there's a vile Ingredient in our frames;
This Man my Brother Clarence ne'er did injure,
But signalized him with marks of Friendship
Above the rest, who did attend him. Yet,
For a little Gold with eagerness he
Seeks his ruin, an itching Palm destroys his Faith,
Ambition conquers mine:
Interest tempts all, and where she tempts, succeeds.
My great designs, why shou'd I blush to own,
There's no Temptation greater than a Crown.
Ed.
What news, my careful Gloucester?
Glou.
Victory still attends the King; the very Scouts and Forragers
Return, being flush'd and redned with Success.
Edw.
These are all steps to fix us on the Throne;
But still the Root of Lancaster, and Branches too,
Must be remov'd, least building o'er them
We totter, and Clarence be ours or lost.
Glou.
Lost in death e're ruine us. Daring like yours
In not proceeding does backward go;
Fair Isabella consents to Clarence's Follies,
And e're morning hopes to escape.
Edw.
That must be prevented.
Glou.
It shall, the Hammer's lifted here, and when
It strikes, the work is finished. The night
Under her Sable Wings shall hatch such deeds,
Will fright the blushing dawn: Suppose Ludlow Castle yours,
The Queen, on a pretext, that shall seem just,
Remov'd, Tudor slain, either on his March, or else
Within the Walls.
Edw.
Attempt both; they who wou'd succeed, must leave
The least to Chance, and catch at every opportunity.
Glou.
This way Clarence moves, as Malavill informs me,
Here I will stay and meet the fiery youth,
Dash all his quiet with the Fiend Jealousie,
Which Weed, Planted by a cunning hand,
Will quickly grow in the warm soil of his
Fierce passion, and even overshoot the love,
Which he so long has cherish'd.
Edw.
Use him, dear Gloucester as his Folly has
Deserv'd.
Glou.
What Paper's that?
Edw.
A Letter from the forsaken Eleonora.
Glou.
Leave it with me: I have a sudden
Thought it may be usefull.
Edw.
Take it: thou art a perfect Chymist
In extracting ruin. I dare trust all
To thy management.
(Exit.
16
Here comes Natures other Favourite;
Enter Clarence.
'Twas base, 'twas barbarous! the choicest
Beauty of the Nation rifled, and then despis'd.
(Looking upon the Letter.
Clar.
What means my Brother?
Glou.
Your Pardon, Duke of Clarence, I saw you not,
Here's a melancholy complaint
From the wretched Elenora.
Clar.
Her fate is hard, and much my temper
Differs from the King's.
Glou.
That Sacred name raises him above
Our Reprehension, tho' not to him, of him
Who can forbear to speak; that has a Soul
In which true honour has a Residence
Has he not, like the wanton Summer fly,
Blown upon and tainted all our Beauties?
Is there a Maid of Quality or Fortune,
Whom he has not attempted, or at least
Married to some Favourite fawning Minion;
While we the branches too of mighty York,
Only are neglected?
Clar.
The Ladys Case transports you; were I dispos'd
To marry, the King shou'd not chuse for me.
Glou.
My Lord, no choice is left, is there in all the Court,
One of an unsullied fame, whose Beauty, or
Whose Quality is fit for Princes Arms?
Clar.
I'll not dispute the matter, but I think there are.
Glou.
There are! you speak as if they abounded,
Name me but one, and I'll recant in Veneration
To such a rarity; forgive the rest, and touch
Their fames no more.
Clar.
What think you then of beauteous Isabella?
The studied Workmanship and hand of Heaven,
Nothing can transcend her Divine person,
But the unspotted Soul, that dwells within.
Glou.
What Isabella, Queen Catharine's Ward,
Thyrrold's Isabella, is't she you thus extravagantly
Describe.
Clar.
How Gloucester! now I have found thee subtle
In malice, all the workings of thy brain
Are like the dismal Policies of Hell;
Which still produce a mischief.
17
I charge thee do not: For by the sacred blood
That fills her veins, the blood of Bedford and of Burgundy
Both Royal Stems, you shall not dare?
Glou.
Not dare, Prince?
Clar.
No, not dare. Lay all your plots on me;
Cover me all over with detraction, as with a Leprosie,
But touch not Isabella; I will bear it.
Glou.
Go on, my Brother, and when your passion's o'er,
Too late consider, if I've deserv'd this usage.
Clar.
What have I done! how came her name in Question?
Oh! Gloucester, Gloucester! thou art deep and cunning,
I but a shallow stream, and as I stand between,
Shall be surely forded o'er;
Edward and Gloucester both may take my life,
But of my Love, there's neither shall deprive me.
Glou.
I knew not Isabella grew so near you.
'Twas common Fame occasion'd what I said,
That as the Queen, descended to Love Tudor,
So Isabella had made Thyrrold hers.
Rumor's the Child of Error, if I've caught
A Falshood, why shou'd that create a Quarrel.
Clar.
A Quarrel, there is none. The King and you
Possess the glories you atchieve in War,
My happiness lies in another Sphere. Farewell.
[Exit.
Glou.
Happiness is a Rosie path you ne'er shall tread;
The Hornet, I have thrown into your bosom,
It buzzes now: But it shall sting anon.
Dissimulation, thou art mine;
My rage, was high as his, and spite much more: but dear dissimulation
Cover'd all the fury of my Soul, and it shall be vented the safest way.
Enter Malavill.
Mal.
I met the Duke, my master; methought his
Looks were full of discontent.
[Drum beats.
Glou.
I gave it him; hark, a distant Drum is the signal
I order'd at the approach of Tudor: what, ho! Captain,
Enter Captain.
Is the detachment ready?
Capt.
My Lord, it is.
Glou.
Lead them towards the Castle, there as I told you you'll
Meet with Tudor, when you encounter him, if his force,
Is stronger than you expected, urge not too far, at night
18
Capt.
With utmost care your orders shall be obey'd.
[Exit.
Glou.
Will Sir James Thyrrold come to the
Appointed place?
Mala.
He will, and is impatient till he
Knows your Grace's pleasure.
Glou.
Clarence is even to rashness brave, that
Will make forget the nicer forms of
Different Quality; after our Conference,
See me again, if your Lord calls and seems uneasie,
Cast forth doubtfull Words; if Jealousie
Appears, feed it with oyl. I've
Told the King thy merits of thy Intelligence
And Honour waits to Crown thy Service.
Mala.
Thanks, noble Sir, your long tasted Bounty
Secures me still your Slave, I'll to my Lord,
And watch his every motion.
[Exit Mala.
Glou.
Go thy ways, Traytor, that's thy proper name,
Oh! there's a vile Ingredient in our frames;
This Man my Brother Clarence ne'er did injure,
But signalized him with marks of Friendship
Above the rest, who did attend him. Yet,
For a little Gold with eagerness he
Seeks his ruin, an itching Palm destroys his Faith,
Ambition conquers mine:
Interest tempts all, and where she tempts, succeeds.
My great designs, why shou'd I blush to own,
There's no Temptation greater than a Crown.
| Queen Catharine | |