University of Virginia Library

Holy-rood Palace.
Enter King and Sevez.
Sevez.
Again, I say, that on the Traitors Death
Depends the loyal Subject's Safety; Mercy
To one is Cruelty to the other.

K. Scot.
Sevez, I know Lord Huntley's Maxims well;
But still I think he loves us.
He must not die.

Sevez.
Sir, a King's Word is of religious Nature;
An Obligation sacred, which cannot
Be dissolved, by any earthly Power;
None but our Mother, the holy, holy
Infallible Church,—Heaven's Vice-gerent!
Before her, indeed, Laws, Oaths, Obligations,
Of what Kind soever, lose their Being.
You, Sir, in Council
Gave religious Word, Lord Huntley should die.

K. Scot.
'Twas by your Influence I revok'd my Word.
You urged 'twou'd be gracious in the Eye of Rome
To ally Duke Richard to our Blood,
By Marriage with Gordon's lovely Daughter.
All Means of Success were barr'd, except
My Promise of her Father's Life; which she,
Cover'd with Rage and Sorrow, from Love and
Nature's extream Reluctance, at last accepted.
Then how, my Sevez, how can I answer
My Breach of Word to her, or to myself?

Sevez.
Sacred Sir, your religious Scruple gives me Joy.
But should conscientious Fears disturb you,
A Bull of Pardon from his Holiness of Rome
Will soon ease your religious Mind.

K. Scot.
Wou'd I cou'd save his Life!

Sevez.
Sacred Sir, I know your royal Tenderness,
But if Huntley lives, your Authority
Will be too feeble to stand against him.
He is grown too popular for kingly Power
To cope with. The factious Lords, his Friends,—
And the distemper'd Rabble are at his Beck.
Already they bellow out for Justice,
Redress, Freedom, no Perkin, no Legates,
No French Council, no Italian Statesmen;
This is their Cry thro' Edinburgh Streets,
Nay, round your Palace Walls.

K. Scot.
Ha! Traitors!

Sevez.
Sir, tho' you, out of your native Goodness,
Were inclin'd to pardon those wicked Lords,
Yet our holy Church wou'd have insisted
On their Deaths; or on your Head have denounc'd
Her hottest Vengeance. For they're Hereticks
Of the new-sprung Sect; call'd in England Lollards;
And have been most active in shaking off
The Power of Rome, which nothing but their Blood
Can expiate. ‘Your Allies of France too
‘Wou'd have stopt their Aid and Loans, and have left you
‘A Sacrifice to your rebellious Subjects
‘And to your old, your natural Enemies
‘The Purse-proud, haughty, heretic English.

K. Scot.
Sevez, they shall die.
Are all Things in Readiness for our Expedition?

Sevez.
They are, Sir; this Night Richard and his Queen
Sojourn at Berwick; and the Clans and Vassals
Of the Grants, Kenedys, Macgregers, and Macdonalds,
With those of Hamilton and Macpherson,
Are all set forward; and their Rendevouz
Is Norham Castle, which they'll reach this Night,
And there wait your royal Presence.

K. Scot.
Sevez, prepare, we will set out this this Day.

Sevez.
My Liege, all Aptness and Conveniency
Attend your royal Will and Pleasure.

Exeunt.