 | The Life of the Dvtches of Svffolke |  |
Actus Quartus.
Enter Bertie.Bert.
Within this towne hath Perecell a house,
There, by the credit of this learned man
We haue got harbor till the moneth expire,
In which her heavy burthen may be eas'd,
Good heaven looke downe vpon her misery,
Comfort her in her griefe, strengthen her weakenesse,
Lay not our woes to wretched Bonners charge,
Free her sweete heaven, by thy Almighty hand,
That we may once revisite our owne land.
Enter Cranwell.
Cranw.
Now cheere your selfe deere sir, here is a time,
To breath a space, this towne's a quiet port,
Bart.
Some refuge I confesse, but the distressed Dutches,
In Child-bed torment is a fresh alarum
Of new sprung care, I cannot be at quiet,
Vntill her safe deliuery be past.
Cran.
Doubt not of that, the powerfull hand of heaven,
In such extremities is ever strong.
Bert.
Good heaven, when I recount the miseries
We haue already past, me thinkes the lottery
Of cruell Fortune, should be quite exhaust,
And yet when I record the name of Bonner,
With his desire to become great by blood,
The greater part of woe seemes still behind.
Cran.
Doubtlesse hees of a most pernitious spirit,
But he that hath restrain'd his envious rage,
And hitherto repulst him, still will curbe him.
Bert.
I trust he will, Cranwell I prethee step,
And listen from the women what good newes.
Enter Perecell, and Sands:
Pere.
Pray saue that labour, we can bring the newes.
Bert.
Welcome good Doctor Sands,
What; in good health?
Sands.
Sir, thanks to heaven, who never leaues his owne
Nor suffers them to perish in distresse.
Bert.
How fares the Dutches.
Gentle host resolue me.
Pere.
Happy and well, cheere your declining thoughts,
Well that her perillous conflict hath an end,
And happy that to comfort her withall,
Theres borne this day a young Lord Willobie.
Bert.
A Boy.
Pere.
A goodly Boy M. Bertie.
And one in whom already doth appeare,
These signes of Courage, to revenge your wrongs.
Good heaven I thanke thee,
This your newes deere friend,
Is as a summons after death to life, the preservation
Of his mother in travell, was wonderous strange,
The place where he is borne is strange,
The loving hands, that did first entertayne
His presence to this pilgrimage of life,
Are likewise strange, then as his birth hath bin,
So shall his name, weele call him Peregrine.
Sands.
A stranger to his Countrey by that name,
But by his deeds hereafter time may prooue,
None more adventured for his Countreys loue.
A Drumbeats a soft March.
Ber.
As it please his starres, but soft,
What Drum is this, some galle I feare,
To intermix our sweete,
Some sorrow to confound this sudden ioy.
Pere.
Your servant Fox did vow to bring you word,
If any hurt were secretly pretended.
Ber.
Is Fox arived, vpon what cause,
Is Fox arived, vpon what cause
Is he past over, doe you know gentle sir.
Enter Fox.
Pere.
Himselfe make answer for himselfe.
Fox.
Sir, be not you dismayd, in breife these drums,
And those that after these sad Musicke daunce,
Are none that wish you, nor the Dutches good,
A Captayne sent from England, and the bloodhound Clunie,
With them the Duke of Brunswicke, clad in armes,
And at the least, ten Ensignes after him,
These how ere they vizard their intents,
With other colour, as to vexe the Emperour,
Yet their whole purpose, is to looke for you,
The gates, and walls, are every way beset,
And but you presently devise some meanes,
To scape from hence, theyle take you in your lodging.
Bertie.
Escape, theres now no time to talke of scape,
No, no, the secret providence of heaven,
Hath so ordain'd, we should be Bonners thrall,
And welcome wished death, the end of all.
Sands.
My mind presageth of a better speed,
What M. Bertie, why not now escape,
As well as heeretofore.
Bertie.
How can that be,
The painefull Dutches, lying now in Child-bed.
Sands.
Is there no art, no meanes to blind their eyes.
Fox.
You are so many of you, tis impossible,
Besides the Dutches, she cannot remooue.
Bert.
Oh, were she safe, I car'd not for my life.
Sands.
Nor I for mine.
Fox.
Nor I, had I ten thousand liues,
Pere.
Cease you your passions, my braine hath tutord me,
And in a cunning plot shall set you free.
Ber.
Doe that, and Bertie is for ever thine.
Fox.
Fox, and his sword, for that will be thy slaue.
Cranw.
Thy friendship will I beare vnto my graue.
San.
What thou attempt'st,
My prayers shall helpe to second.
Pere.
I neither doe expect thankes, nor reward,
But what I doe is of meere charity,
Then list vnto me, there's a friend of mine,
A Countrey Gentleman, not far from hence,
Whose brother late returned from the warres,
And falling sicke, within the Citty heere,
Dyed some few day as since, now this Gentleman,
Because his brother shall be buried,
Amongst his Ancestors, decrees this night,
To haue his body in a Wagon brought,
Home to the Parish Church, where he remaines,
To see if safe conveyd: A waggon like to theirs,
Covered with blacke, shall be provided straight,
Into the which, by helpe of Womens hands,
The Dutches, and her Infant shall be lifted,
You, and the rest disguis'd in mourning weeds,
Shall follow after as the guard,
And in the dead Mans name without suspect,
Passe by the Souldiers, who if they chance,
To question who you are,
The Burgers being by, and made acquainted,
With such a herce, that is to passe that way,
Will quickly answer them, without more search,
How like you this.
Bert.
It will I hope proue currant.
Sands.
The pretext is fit, and for the Dutches case:
Fox.
Fox has no more sence then a batle-doore,
If in his iudgement, we already be not
Delivered from the mischiefe of their hands.
Pere.
Come Ile provide you all things necessary.
And after pray for your successe therein,
Fox.
Ile backe to them, and helpe you what I can.
Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Brunswick, L. Paget, Portgraue, Clunie, and Souldiers.
Paget.
Great Duke of Brunswick, this your flexible,
And curteous disposition of your troopes,
To be for Englands service, shall receaue
The due belongeth to so great a merit.
Bruns.
Noble Captaine, I were much to be condemned,
If I neglect my duty to the Church,
But are you sure, these fugetiues are heere?
Pag.
Clunie, thou touldst me, that thou sawest a man
Of theirs, since we beset the towne, wast true?
Clu.
Yes noble Captaine, Cranwell the Dutches vsher,
Bru.
Well then Captaine, the other Ports being garded,
Heere with this company weele keepe our station,
Where is the Portgraue? haue you sent abroad,
Sufficient search amongst the private houses?
Port.
We haue my Lord.
Bruns.
They cannot be in Weasell,
But either comming forth, or lurking heere,
They must in all sorts be discovered by vs.
Cap.
Oh they are politick, and passing subtile,
And if or art, or policie, can helpe them,
There's in their company, an Instrument,
Can plot a hundred waies for their escape.
Brun.
Let them expresse their cunning, if they can,
And scape our hands, now we haue sented them.
Enter Fox.
Fox.
How now my Lord, oh I am out of breath,
In comming to you, yet I hope my hast,
Is little for your purpose, they are comming,
Stand on your guard, for this way they must passe,
Ther's Bertie, Cranwell, Sands, with them the Dutches,
Cap.
Twas well done Fox, there's thy reward, stand close,
Or, now, or never, let vs shew our care, stand, who goes there?
Enter foure, bearing a Hearce, Bertie, Sands, Cranwell, Mourners.
Bruns.
Some funerall it seemes.
Cap.
It may be some device procured by them,
So to escape the danger of our watch, stand.
Port.
I can assure your Lordship, tis not so,
This is the body of young Vandermast,
Whose brother dwelling some foure leagues from hence,
Although he died heere, yet will haue him buried,
Whereas his Ancestors are all intomb'd,
And for that cause, hath sent his servants for him.
Is it no otherwise.
Berty.
No mighty Prince,
And would to heaven it had not bin so now:
Cap.
Passe then, passe, it is not you we looke for.
Exeunt they.
Bruns.
What was this Vandermast, a Cittizen?
Port.
No my good Lord, he was a Souldier,
A proper Gentleman, and one had served
The Emperour, and others in their warres,
Yet was ordain'd, to end his dayes at home.
Enter second Funerall.
Bruns.
A thing no more then vsuall, but how now,
Whats here, an other funerall? nay then
It is a hazzard, we are all deluded.
Cap.
My thoughts began to prophecie as much,
Speake, are not you the parties that even now
Came this way, with a mourning funerall.
1. Mour.
Not we my Lord, this is the first appearance,
We made this evening.
Bruns.
What haue you there conceal'd.
1. Mour.
Nothing my Lord, but a dead body Coffin'd,
The brother of our M. late deceast.
Port.
I, this is Vandermast, the other past,
Vpon my life, was Barty, and the Dutches.
Cap.
They were vnwilling to looke vp me thought.
Bruns:
And he that spake, spake with a fained voice.
Fox.
Twas they, twas they, oh, I could teare my haire,
To thinke we were so grossely overseene.
Cap:
I said as much, come let vs follow them,
Send horsemen out, to every quarter straight,
My Lord of Brunswick.
Bruns:
You need not bid me ride,
This oversight, hath clapt wings to my thoughts.
Exeunt all but Fox.
Now for some pretty policy againe,
To lead them forth the way, vntill the Dutches.
May reach Polonia, and deserue the prize,
Fox play thy part, some stratagem devise.
Exit Fox.
Enter Bonner, and Gardner.
Bonn.
Wher sits the winde, no newes from Germany?
If those malitious fugitiues be tayne,
Our officers I feare, neglect their charge,
Our Captaine deales but coldly with the States.
Gard.
I dreamt my Lord, that Bertie and the Dutches,
Were both advanc't vpon a regall throne,
And had their temples wreath'd with glittering gold.
Bon.
That throne doe I interpret, is the stage
Of horrid death, those wreathes of Gold, bright flames,
That shall not onely circle in their browes,
But wind about their bodies, till they waste,
And be converted to a heape of ashes,
Me thinks this worke of ours, goes slowly forward,
The ayre of England freezeth for defect
Of burning Meteors, to keepe it warme.
Gard.
See yet my Lord, there hath of late bin sacrific'd,
In sundry places, many persons, of severall qualities,
Whose names were tedious to relate.
Bon.
Tut this is nothing, every towne should blaze,
And every streete, in every towne looke red,
With glowing sinders of the Miscreants:
Till like to Cockle, they were quite extinct,
And nothing seene to florish but pure Corne:
The morning spends apace, where are these knaues,
Appointed to bring Fagots for the fire,
Wherein bold Latimer, and Ridley must expire.
Enter two with Fagots.
Gard.
They come my Lord.
Fye on you loytering knaues,
Why make you not more hast, be gon, I say,
And see the stake, and every thing be ready,
See how I am still procrastinated,
The Maior of Oxford, meanes to dyne I thinke,
Before he bring the Prisoners to the stake,
How now? where are they?
Enter Sherife.
Sherife.
Hard at hand my Lord,
But the weake age of Latimer is such,
They cannot come so fast, as else they would,
Besides some disputations as they passe,
Had with the Schollers, hath detayn'd their speede.
Bon.
Ile haue no disputations, bring them on.
Enter Latimer, and Ridley, with Halberds.
Ridley.
Come brother Latimer, lend me your arme,
The weake, the weake, but not the blind, the blind,
This day in Oxford, shall be seene to guide.
Lati.
My heart is iocund, brother Ridley, still,
And in my Spirit, I flye vnto yon place,
But these weake withered saplins are too blame,
These legs of mine, that having now at least,
Full fourescore and eight winters done me service,
Should now deceaue me trust me, but my soule is
Linct in charity, with all the world,
I could be well content, to chide with them.
Bon.
These are those selfe iustifying Publicans,
Away with them, conduct them to the fire.
Gard.
Come, come, spend no time in talke,
Will you convert, be sorie for your crime,
And you shall yet finde favor with the Queene.
Bon.
Fye, fye, spit at them, offer them no mercy.
Proceed in scorne, so was our Master vs'd,
The servants are not better then their Lord.
Bonn.
Drag them away there, hence, away I say.
Cranm.
Stay, stay.
Cranmer within.
Bon.
What voyce is that.
Gard.
Some one thats prisoner in Bocardo heere,
Enter Cranmer.
Cranm.
Oh stay my Lords, whom leade you there to death?
The reverent fathers, Ridley, and Latimer?
Bon.
I Cranmer, but more fauor rests for thee,
Because thou are converted from thine errors.
Cranm.
Did you not tell me, they were likewise changed,
And haue you falsely circumvented me?
Oh heaven, forgiue my trayterous revolte,
And you the chosen vessels of his loue,
Deere Latimer, sweete Ridley pardon me,
To make amends, Ile come and dye with you.
Lati.
As your revolt, graue Cranmer, was our griefe,
So to heare these repentant gracefull words,
Infuse our hearts with ioy, beyond compare.
Bon.
Will Cranmer then turne, and returne againe.
Cranm,
To turne to vertue never comes to late.
Bon.
Thy recantation vnderneath thy hand,
Is publisht, and wilt thou now contradict it.
Cranm.
Bonner, to cut off needlesse circumstance,
Let this declare my resolution,
This hand that writ that faithlesse recantation,
Since I am bard, from dying with my friends,
Marke how I punish in this lingring flame,
It shall burne off, as an assured signe,
Heereafter of my constant Martyrdome,
No scandall shall be left by my default,
Open you heavens, and entertaine my willling sacrifice,
Yet this is but an earnest of that loue,
Bon.
Iaylor pull downe that scismatick,
Lodge him within the dungeon, loade his ioynts
With Iron fetters, let him fast from meate,
And haue no comfort, but continuall checks, dispatch, I say.
Cranm.
Farewell religious mates,
What earth doth separate, I hope ere long,
Shall meet in heaven, spight of proud Bonners tongue.
Rid.
Farewell kind brother, nere decline no more,
But follow vs, as we haue gone before.
Laty.
What stay we for, my quiet thoughts desire,
To cloth this flesh, in purple robes of fire.
Bon.
You shall not neede to vrge our expedition,
Leade them away, their Tragedy once ended,
We will prepare attentiue eares to heare,
Newes of the Dutches landing prisoner.
Exeunt.
Enter Dutches, and Bertie, with their Children.
Dutches.
Yet we haue scapt the danger of our foes,
And I that whilom was exceeding weake,
Through my hard travell in this infants birth,
Am now growne strong vpon necessity,
How forwards are we towards Windam Castle.
Bert.
Iust halfe our way, but we haue lost our friends,
Through the hot pursute of our enemies.
Dutch.
We are not vtterly devoyd of friends,
Behold the young Lord Willowby smiles on vs,
And tis great helpe, to haue a Lord our Friend.
Bert.
Good heaven I pray once sorte to happy end,
This dangerous Pilgrimage, heere vndertooke,
Sit on this banke a while, and rest our limbes,
Wearied with travaile, as our minds with care.
Sits downe.
Clu.
You are a Captaine of the Palse graues band,
These are the other recreants, ceaze them both,
The hundred Crownes propos'd, are surely yours,
I know him valiant, and therefore I will clyme
Vp in this tree, to see, and not be seene,
Pray lends a hand, whil'st you surprise them,
I will laughing stand.
Climbs vp the tree.
Fox,
If I sit you not, ere you come downe,
Say Fox is a Goose.
2. Cap.
Sir I attach you as an enemy
Vnto the Palsegraue, in whose land you are,
You and your Trull, obey it ye were best,
Or in resistance hazzard both your liues.
Ber.
Attach me sir, I know no reason why,
Nor to my knowledge am an enemy,
Vnto the Palsgraue, or the meanest man
Within his confines, we are Travellers,
And will immediatly forsake the land.
2. Cap.
You are a Launce knight, this your Concubine.
And these your Bastards, that by rapine liue,
And thus disguis'd you come to vndermine,
Our Countries government, then yeeld your selues.
Dutch.
Though misery hath stampt vpon our brow
The marke of poverty, yet gentle stranger,
Doe not so far forget all manlinesse,
To be a slanderer of the Innocent.
2. Cap.
Terme me a slanderer.
Bert.
And a Villaine too, if thou maintayne these defamations,
Terme me a Thiefe, my wife a Concubine,
My Children base borne; by a souldiers faith,
Wert thou the greatest spirit the Palesgraue hath,
I cannot brooke this slavish insolence,
That I am angry, witnesse this reply,
I will defend mine honour though I dye.
Strikes him.
Villaines I charge you all inviron him,
They fight.
Dutch.
So many to one silly passenger,
Then fatewell woman weakenes, welcome sword,
For once Ile play the man, to saue my Lord.
She fights, beates them off.
Clu.
Why this is excellent, now I hope to liue
To see them apprehended or else slayne.
Fox.
These hopes Ile crosse, by cutting downe the branch
Whereon he builds this weake foundation.
cuts the branch
Clu.
Oh I shall fall, helpe me good M. Fox.
Fox.
I, wherefore Clunie, to betray my Lady?
So hatefull Bonner, dived into the well,
So fall this damned Parator to hell,
And now Ile helpe my Mistris to my power,
Fox, come out a your hole, and take your Cozens part
Or Ile pull you out by the eares.
cry within.
Helpe, helpe, our Captaines murthered, raise the towne.
Fox.
The Captaine slaine, then Fox tis best to flie,
And lest some sad mischance should second them,
I will convey these Children to the Woods,
That borders neere at hand, oh heaven I pray,
Exit with children.
Make this disasterous time a happy day.
Cry within.
Helpe, helpe, our Captaynes slayne.
Clu.
I must downe, blesse my necke and care not.
Cry within.
Follow, follow, follow.
Clu.
Oh, my guts, a vengeance on this Fox.
Exit creeping.
Cry within.
This way, this way follow.
Enter Berty, and Dutches.
Dut.
What cries are these, oh hast thou slaine the Cap.
Bert.
If he be slaine, require not heaven his blood,
Of miserable Berty.
Within.
Helpe, helpe, helpe.
Dut.
A second volley of heart wounding words,
Oh flye my loue, flye, flye, and saue thy life,
If you be taken, theres no way but death.
Within.
Heere, heere, this way.
Dut.
Why stir you not, our foes are hard at hand.
Bert.
I am so amaz'd I know not where to goe,
Ile take this way.
Dut.
Rather deere Loue take this.
Bert.
That way they come.
Dutch.
What shall we doe,
Behold a Ladder rais'd against this house,
In happy time, mount vp and saue your life,
I will defend the bottome with my sword,
And though heaven knowes I am orelaid with woe,
Ile rather dye then see your overthrow.
Bert.
But I shall leaue thee to thine enemies.
Dutch.
Shift for your owne life, take no care for mine,
For heavens sake quickly, you delay the time.
Bert.
Feare lend me wings, but oh my griefs so great,
It waies me downe, and I must needs retreat.
Cry within.
Come away, come away, ho! come away.
Dutch,
They are at hand, oh good my loue mount vp.
Getts vp the Ladder.
Enter Burgomaster, with Souldiers.
Soul.
See where they are that made the fray.
Burg.
You fellow, that run vp the Ladder,
Downe, downe, or Ile pull you downe in a ropes name.
Dut.
He is my husband, and a Gentleman,
And Ile defend him from your tyranie.
Burg.
A Woman fight.
Dut.
Such are my fortunes now,
Therefore keepe off, who ventures on this way,
Treadeth a path that leadeth to his death.
Bert.
My friends what seeke you, wherefore come you arm'd?
Bur.
You haue slaine a Captaine of the Palsgraues band,
You are a Lanceknight, this your Concubine,
And come disguis'd to vndermine the State,
In whose defence these men haue arm'd themselues.
Bert.
You seeme a Burgomaster, by your habit,
And they that mis-inform'd you were too blame,
Know gentle sir, I am an Englishman,
And on some speciall busines bound this way,
Toward Windam-Castle, till we were disturb'd,
By the oppression of the man that's slayne.
Burg.
I wreake not friend of what estate you are,
Nor to what end you travaile through these parts,
You haue slaine a man, and you must answer it,
According to the law of Nations.
Soul.
Downe with him, he shall answer it with death.
Burg.
Peace there, I charge you, in the Princes name.
Bert.
It seemes these men are thirsty for my blood,
And without law are set to take my life,
Then it were madnesse for a man to yeeld,
To abide a triall; and the iudgement past:
Since I must dye, Ile choose the death my selfe,
And thats to stand on a defensiue guard,
Except you sweare as you'r a Christian,
A Magistrate, and one that will doe right,
That I shall haue due processe of the Law
And be defended from the multitude.
Dutch.
Doe not, I pray, indanger so your life,
But trust vnto the shelter you haue got.
Burg.
A sorry fortresse to defend his life.
Bert.
But will you take that oath.
Burg.
By heaven I doe, and I will see it kept inviolate.
Bert.
Then worke the worst of fate, if right beare sway,
He cannot speed amisse that does no wrong,
Oh, innocence is bold, free, liberall,
Fearelesse of any danger, that may fall,
I yeeld me sir, a Prisoner to the law,
Although our birth be neare so meane or base,
But fixe the eye of iudgement on our case.
Bur.
So, bind their hands, & lead them to the statehouse,
They shall haue iustice done immediately,
Dutch.
Oh stay a while, I haue lost my little babes,
What savadge hand hath tane my children hence,
Whil'st we were busied in this lucklesse brawle.
Bert.
My Children borne away! oh then I feare,
It is some treason to abridge our liues,
And that the Captaine, that did wrong vs thus,
Did it to that intent.
Dutch.
Tis so, till now we nere were truely miserable,
Our other miseries were sunneshine dayes,
Compar'd vnto the greatnesse of this storme,
Oh suffer me good sir, to seeke them out,
For without them, I am but halfe my selfe.
Burg.
A strict enquiry shall be made foorthwith,
In every place that borders heere abouts,
Greene not too much, though such are poore mens treasure,
What needy thiefe to steale them would take pleasure.
Exeunt Omnes.
Finis Actus Quarti.
| The Life of the Dvtches of Svffolke | |