University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Scene Opens and Discovers King Edward on a Couch, after some struggling Rises.
King.
Where have I been, or what is't I have seen?
'Tis said the Soul while the Tyred body sleeps,
Her Mansion often leaves and Roves abroad,
Sometimes to Groves and Solitary Cells,
Sometimes to Courts, to Cities, and to Camps;
Mingling with Crouds, then strangely left alone:
But mine has fall'n down dreadfull Precipices,
Walkt in the Charnell-Houses of the dead:
My Fathers Ghost stalk'd thus before my eyes,
Cryed out Revenge, then shreik'd and disappear'd,
With so much hast, as if it seem'd to dread
The hand of Murder did pursue it still;
Yet, as it fled it forc't the yielding Air,
To Eccho back, beware of Mortimer,

Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
Lord Mountacute, Sir Robert Holland, with Sir Thomas Delamore,
Wait for admittance to your Majesty.

King.
They're wellcome, bring 'em in;
[Exit Messenger.
Then headless Kent my once beloved Uncle,
Led on a Train of miserable Shades,
Who seem'd bewailing their untimely deaths.
With uplift hands they begg'd as for releif,
And in sad postures told their several Fates:
Then Mortimer Led in my wicked Mother,
Who Snatch'd the Crown from me and gave it him,
At which the numerous Crowds of Ghosts look'd paler,
Their mangled Limbs broke out afresh with bloud,
And the Surprizing horrour shook off sleep;
What is it, oh ye Powers, that ye decree?
Am I design'd to fall a Sacrifice
To the Ambitious Lust of this fell Monster?
If Dreams Presage, Or Visions can forebode
The Fate of Edward, Edward must succeed,
If so you've fix'd it, yet I'le face this storm,
Stand like a King 'gainst my Rellious Doom;
And Perish worthy of my Dignity.

Enter Lord Mountacute. Sr. Thomas Delamore, and Sr. Robert Holland
All.
Health to your Majesty:

King.
The like to all of You, ye are good men;
My Worthy Uncle Edmond when alive
Bad me select and value ye as Jewells,
When Dying, as a Legacy Bequeath'd
Your Faiths and Service;
I am too Young to know the Arts of Men,
But by my hopes I think ye mighty honest.

L. Moun.
Our happiness Lyes only in that thought:

King.
Tell me my Friends, and with that honest Plainness
As suits the Character I have of you:
Why is it that with folded Arms of Late,
And heavy Eyes which speak distemper'd minds,
Ye measure out your steps?
Seeming like Statues more then Councellors,
As mourners wait upon the Dead remains
Of some lov'd friend to his eternall home.

S. Tho. Del.
Most Royall Prince, my honour'd Leige and Master.

King.
Honour'd, my Leige, my Prince and Royall Master.
How Like this sounds to Mortimer;
I find he's grown the President o'th Court,
The Star by which each Courtier guides his hopes.

S. Rob, Holl:
Rather a Meteor or some Exhalation
Rais'd by the Sulphurous vapours of the Earth,
Which borrowing of a Blaze from Reall Lights
Attracts the eyes of Fools to Gaze on it.

King.
No more on your Allegiance, to the Point:

L. Moun.
You have touch'd us home Sir now, and we obey
The Secrets of our hearts shall be unlock'd,
Where you may read yours and the Nations doom;
It is the Man you've named which rides our Spirits
Oh my Lov'd Lord!
Why is this Viper harbour'd in your Bosome,
Which Gnaws insensibly upon your honour?
Why pampher'd with the Worship of mens Knees?
You are our King, Rouse sleeping Majesty,
Awake and view the Souls which wait your rising,
To pay their Long kept Homage where 'tis due.

S. Tho. Del.
Where now is Right? to whom shall we Appeal?
The Queen has plac'd her Power on Mortimer:
Whilest the Laws edge is Ground but on one side,
Nor that employ'd unless to Lop your Friends:
The man who dare reflect on his Proceedings,
Or pity but the Circumstances of Edward,
Is streight beset and sworn into some Plot:
His Life or Fortune's seiz'd, it may be both
Jurys and Witnesses are kept in pay,
Who have agree'd his Ruine e're he's heard.

S. Rob. Holl.
Thus your good Subjects dayly are Oppress'd,
Which Perish by Consent of Perjury.

S. Tho Del.
Thus whilst these vile Possessors wrack the Land,
Your Worth decays and Glory runs to Ruine:
It can't last long they think, so make the most on't,
Assume your Right, or we must all submit,
Our Country Like Estates held in dispute,
Fertile in Woods and Parks the Pride of Wealth,
If he that's in possession thinks it short,
He Cuts down all the Pomp of's Ancestors,
Which many years their Diligence Improv'd
So Worthy men the prop of future hopes,
By this Usurper Mortimer are Lopp'd,
Their Fortunes torn by'th' Roots form long Succession;
And scatter'd to maintain Voluptuousness.

King.
Is't Possible! I always thought him ill,
But you Decypher him a very Devill:
Filling my thoughts with horror of his Crime.

Sr. Tho. Del.
Each Magistrate which should administer
Justice Impartiall, why all are made by him
Which Ruine others to preserve themselves;
The Clergy and the Law are both his Creatures,
The Bishop Chancellor takes Care of that;
Places of Trust and Profit are all Sold:
'Tis Practis'd from the Mitre'd holy head
To'th Needy Starving Verger of the Church:
You can't serve Heav'n on Cushions but you pay for't,
Or Blister your Numb'd Knees upon the Marble;
Then from the Scarlet and the Purple Gown,
Down to the very Cryer of the Court.

Lo. Mount.
Well may the Nation Groan while such as these
Sit at the helm, and what expect but shipwrack.

King.
Now by my Honour I'le no Longer bear
The Ignominious hand of a Controul;
I find my self enlarg'd, Each Artery
Beats double time, as if my Spirits strove
To be in Action; My Fathers Soul
Shoots in my bloud, and Prompts to Resolution:
Thus I Cast from me
The Name of Duty and the Tye of Son,
Since thou art dead to shame, be so to me.

Sr. Tho. Del.
Ay, now my Lord you speak your self a King:
Do but appear with that Authority,
The Praise of Edward Every tongue will sing,
While Ravish'd heav'n does eccho back the sound;
You can't want hands for such a Noble Work,
A Cause like yours would summon the Just Gods
With all their Thunder to the Royall Aid:
Oh let me Kiss your Sacred feet dear Prince;
These Words have added years to my sick Life.

[Kneels
King.
He Weeps, indeed the honest man
Does weep; Rise Delamore for I will be my self,
And this Usurper March shall down to Hell,
All spare the Tree whose Branches serve as shade,
Till the spread mischiefs kill the under-Plants,
Then every Man assists to fell it down,
So this Colossus of the English Isle,
Under whose Legs the Tallest Ships must Pass,
E're they gain harbour shall to Seas be hurl'd,
And in their Bottom finde a Monument:
My Dream comes on apace, and I foretell
This meeting Ominous to March for it Portends;
The Wardship of the Queen, and he expires,
He seeks my Life, and Crown: ha! is't not so?

Sr Tho, Del.
Right Sir, that must be surely the designe
By his removing you to his Residence:
Why was not Salisbury as good a place,
Oh! there you Liv'd surrounded by the Peers
And Loyall Commons, 'twas a place too safe:

Lo. Mount:
Possibly he did it Sir to shew the State
Your Royall Mother keeps—But then
Why was not his fair Castle made your Palace?
No, your eyes would Peirce too deep in his designe,
For there he Lives in Grandeur,
In Masks and Revells every night he reigns
While alls Barr'd up as if he fear'd a spy.

Sr. Rob. Holl.
You now are open to each Traytors shaft,
And in the very mid'st I dare avouch it,
Of those who long to taste your Royall Life.

King.
Thanks my Good Angell, thou hast turn'd my fears,
The Chilness of my Bloud now Ebbs apace,
My shivering Nerves shake their Convulsion off,
And ye have Rouz'd the youthfull Lyon up;
Oh that I had the hearts of these Bloud-hunters,
This Pious Chancellor and Treacherous March;
Like young Alcides would I Gripe the Snakes;
My worthy friends be still about my Person,
Send Instantly to Berkly, Salisbury,
[Exit Holland.
Leicester and Mordant: You withdraw with me;
Business I have requires your best advice,
For like the Mariner I see from far
A Storm is gathering in the distant Sky;
But with these Vessells I can fear no Sea,
The utmost Rigour of the Clouds I'le stand
Safe as the Souls which pitty us from Land.

Exeunt.

SCENE II. The Chancellour's Apartment.

Enter Sly, and Secret Assurance with Papers in their hands; Then the Mace and Purse, The Chancellour. On each side of him Judges who Complement him, and then take their leave: Then the Chancellour sits in a Chairs of State while the Lawyers present him with New-Years Guifts.
1. Law.
I beg your Lordship would accept of this poor offering,
I have had but a bad Term; as the times mend
My Acknowlengments shall grow greater.
[Exit Law.

Chan.
Three broad Pieces
(counts the mony)

This fellow will come to nothing, I remember him an Attorney, you
know him Secret.

Sec.

Yes, and Please you, he was once of the house of which I'm
President, he always shun'd coming into Commons, and us'd to Dine at
a three-penny Celler, always went to bed by day-light, Stole Paper and
Pens, and begg'd Ink, he had but one Band which he wash'd himself at
the Pump, and then dry'd it by the Hall-fire.

2d Law.

If your Lordship be at Leisure—

gives him money
Chan.

Councellor Dunderpate, I am glad to see you, I hope your family
is well:

2d. Law.

At your Lordships Service:

Chan.

You're a sensible man, 10 Pieces—well I never forget my friends.

2d. Law.

There is a Cause will come before your Lordship between
Pluckat and Holdfast—now I am for the the Defendant—Holdfast and
the Case is thus—

Chan.

Why you rascall, are you going to Corrupt me with prepossession
of the Cause e're I've heard—

2d. Law.

With your Lordships permission—

Chan.

Sirrah, I will have nothing to do with it till it Lyes before me;
Why you Jackanapes because I indulge your Presents d'you think I take
'em as Bribes—ha!

2d. Law.

I beg your Lordships pardon, thus I confess my Errour.

[gives more money.
Chan.

This makes some attonement, but d'hear, if ever I catch you at
the like, as opening the merrits of the Cause in Private again—I'le make
you such an Example, that that—Sly take Councellor Dunderpate into
the Buttery, and give him a bottle of Sack.

2. Law.

Your Lordships Devoted Slave.

[Ex. Sly and Dun.
Several Law.

If it please your gracious Lordship.

Chan.

Why, lay down what you have, I cannot look over it now.

They lay down their Presents, he smiles on some, nods upon others, more or less; as he likes their Guifts, they go off.
Enter Serjeant Eitherside.
Chan.

Serjeant Eitherside, how do you? I hope your Brother-in-Law
Serjeant Huddle-Cause is well: I am glad to see you, you are my old
Friend and Acquaintance, (let me see) above 20 years standing: ha is't
not so?

Serj.

Your Lordship hits the mark of time Exactly, and I Protest the
Honour you have done me requires requires Acknowledgment beyond the Talent

I am endow'd withal; Let me therefore, avoiding Prolixity, Profoundly
Celebrate your Lordships Praises, and acquaint the World, the
favours you have plac'd on me your Creature, Exhalts me to the Pinacle
of Ambition, and as an Incumbent duty obliges me to Consecrate my
self and Posterity to your Lordships Pleasure: Give me admittance therefore
most humbly to pay this Tribute of Duty, and with it the Orizons
of many happy years.

Chan.

The Man speaks well (weighs the purse)
there's weight in his
words; a great sign of an able Pleader—how does your Nelce?

Serj.

My Lord.

Chan.

How does your Neice, I say, what art thou deaf?

Serj.

She's well my gracious Lord, and happy that your Emminence
takes notice of her.

Chan.

I never saw her, but am told she's a notable baggage, a tite Lass
and a pretty one:

Secret.

Fetch her whilst his bloud's warm, I see it glow through his
Praises.

[Exit Serjeant Eitherside.
Enter more who give money.
Chan.
Lay it down I say, why I won't forget ye.
[They all bow mighty low and retire.

If this trade were to last the year round, I should have a fine time on't,
Gold in abundance, without which (as Anthony said) the world's not
worth my Care: 'tis great Pitty the first of January comes but once in a
twelvemonth. Every one of these Crouching Fawning Sniveling Sons of
Perdition expect I should do wonders for 'em, but I know none of 'em;
as I Look up their Presents I bury their memories:—nor can I recollect
'em under under fresh ones—Secret. I am but a man, yet am glad
to do good in my Function when the Persons are truly sensible.

Secret.

'Tis a great goodness in you then.

Chan.

Why there's that old spawn of the Serpent; Eitherside, a fellow
of rare parts, eminent Practice; I have known him undo twenty
People, and they never the wiser—a very wicked fellow—but then
on the other hand his Repentance is always so hearty, so Substantiall
and feeling, that my nature is overcome with his Penitence, and I can
no more chide him then I can refuse his Oblation.

Secret.

Such men are wanting to fill the Bench withall, and I hope he
may stand fair in your Lordships opinion in the next remove, he'd perform
his part rarely, he's no Charitable Conscientious Timerous Fellow,
but a Thorough-pac'd Lawyer, and mighty hearty in the Cause—

Chan.

Say'st thou so man, and by my Troth it was well thought on;

if these Peuking velvet-hearted Wary Knaves that pretend to Scruples
and seem averse to comply with the Queens desires hang an Arse any
longer, they shall make room for more deserving Persons—I do admire
they can have so little Grace as to receive a Plentifull Salary and make
no return for it.

Secret.

I'le pawn my Soul for him—his temper may be moulded to
what use occasion shall require; besides his wants will prompt him to
comply, his Gains are not sufficient to maintain his family as his Wife
would have it, for she loves to go fine as most of 'em do; and for a new
gown would make him give away the Justest Cause in the world; his
Estate too is morgag'd past recovery, to maintain her pride.

Chan.

But his Neice Secret his Neice.

Secret.

Oh she's the Prettiest Creature, my eyes e're look'd on, such a
Composition of flesh and bloud, so Witty, so Modest, so Alluring—

Chan.

And such a Servant I want, for I am grown of late so melancholly,
I am not what I was—we are all flesh and bloud Secret, if she's of
a coming-nature she's made for ever, I grow aged, this Turmoyling in
the Government, what with my affairs o'th State, and bustling on the
Bench, bandying about Equity and one thing or other, wearys me out
strangely—I want like the Heathen Monarchs, my Saraglio, to refresh
me after the business of the day, but I must keep that to my self—and
is she tractable?

Secret.

Easy as Innocence it self; he's gone to fetch her.

Chan.

Sayst thou?

Secret.

He's gone to fetch her:

Chan.

Hither.

Secret.

Hither to your Lordship.

Chan.

He shall be a Judge, let him bring her instantly; I am much
refresh'd with the thoughts that I can serve the Nation and my self so
Luckily—go and bid the Serjeant prepare for his advancement.

Sly.

I shall my Lord

[Exit Sly

Secret.

Will it please your Lordship to peruse these Papers?

Chan.

No Sir, I design to peruse something else I thank you, I will
not have my Imagination disturb'd, nor my fancy pall'd; tell me of Papers
when I'm to give my Judgment upon flesh and bloud: what do you
take me for nothing but hurry-durry all my life long: thou thinkst my
brains are taken up like thine who's to be fined next: no, thou half-skin
of Parchment, I hate the Sin of being Covetous, tho' I love Gold
Extremly, not altogether in regard as it is money, but because Physitians
have told me 'tis a great Restorative, you Varlet.

Secret.

I beg your Lordships pardon.

Chan.

Pardon, why you Jack-Call to the Law, did'st think I was angry,
angry on a New-years day, angry when Riches and Love is towards
me, no, no—but heark you Sirrah:

Secret.

What is your Pleasure?

Chan.

That shall be nameless—Sirrah, was ever such a Question
ask'd a man in my office? why, you Sawcy Impertinent—
Enter Sly.
Ha! is she coming rogue, say you? you little sucking Devill, by the
Mass I'm strangely alter'd within this half hour—Look you, I am not
angry Secret, as I said before—but, is she such a pretty sweet dapper
Peice of beauty? I will make thee a great man shortly by the Mass.

Sly.

My Lord, she's whatsoever you can fancy, nor can you stretch
your thoughts into Imagination, but she Exceeds it in substance; her
Uncle overjoy'd at the Good Office brings her himself.

Chan.

He shall be a Judge—shall—he is already.

Sly.

See, they are here my Lord.

Enter Serjeant Eitherside and his Neice Maria.
Chan.
Leave us.
[Exit Secret and Sly.

A glorious Woman: how her eyes sparkle, and how the bloud juts in
and out upon her cheecks, as if it hop'd some good were coming toward
her—come, sweet one,
[kisses]
Her lips are made of Velvet, smooth, soft, and plyable; I'le lip her and
eye her, and every thing her.—Serjeant, as I told you before, I have a
great kindness for you, and hearing that you had a Neice of worthy Education,
whose merits spoke her praise (oh you little baggage) I can
do no less, having your Preferment in my eye, then while I was doing
good for you in some measure, to advance your Neices fortune, my
House wants such a sober discreet young Woman to manage it, and by
the way I must call you my Lord.

Ser.

Oh Sir!

Chan.

Indeed I must—the Queen upon my Request doth conferr
the office of Judge on you, as you deserve; that for ought I know you
may be in a little time Chief Justice—This I have done my friend to
serve you: But to the matter, what say you Mr. Serjeant (my Lord, I
beg your pardon) are you willing to put your Neice under my care and
Protection? ha!

Ser.

My Lord you so highly oblige me, I am struck silent with the manner

of it—a Judge, Chief-Justice, I am confounded with the honour—
My Lord, the Maid is whatever you please to make her.

Chan.

Then I'le make a Woman of her speedily: What say you pretty
Lady, are you free to take the trouble upon you? I am a weak man
and have but few Relations—If I do well I'le make your fortunes: If I
dye, you shall have no Cause to repent.

Mar.

Would thou wert dead already; must I then be the Sacrifice to
my Uncles Ambition? be steady Virtue, and assist me Heav'n, tho' poor,
I'le not be base—Oh Mountacute.

Chan.

What say you fair one?

Mari.

In any honest way I should be proud to serve your Lordship,
and obey my Uncle.

Chan.

Pretty Innocence, I am but twenty—not so much I believe,
I know not what I am.

Ser.

He may in time make her his Heir, at least her fortunes made, and
I am freed of a Burthen—My worthy Lord, her mind and mine are all
one, she is the Creature of your Pleasure, and will take any Impression
your Lordship shall stamp on her (a Judge—) Wife be of Comfort, thy
Chariot shall be turn'd into a Coach; Thy Pew at Church be strip'd of
Baise, and lin'd with Velvet, and thou shalt take place of my Lady Mayoress
Neice; you were born under a happy Planet, fortune throws her
self into your Lap, make use on't while 'tis offer'd, a Lord—oh lack a
day, I can't contain my extasy.

Chan.

Have you consider'd little one of the offer? you shall Command
in Chief, and be esteem'd as if my Sister:

No harm shall come to you.

Mar.

I hope not.

Chan.

Fear it not.

Mar.

I trust in your honour, your Robe's too worthy sure to harbour
ill.

Ser.

Neice, you must not talk so Impertinently: Incline your minde
and body as his Chancellorship and holyness shall think fit.

Mar.

Hold there, good Uncle.

Chan.

I am mightily o'rejoy'd it should fall out so pat that I can serve
my old Friend: 'Tis an Angelical Jade, and I grow very warm: well
Childe, I will take care of you: My Lord, within two days your Patent
shall be ready; I would discourse a little with your Neice in Private—
I protest things fall out so lucky.

Ser.

I'le leave her with your Lordship.

Chan.

Pray call me Brother-Lord, we are both Judges now and Lords
alike.

Ser.

Then Brother-Lord—oh pretty—I'le leave her with your Brother
Lordship.

Chan.

Do, do.

Mar.

How will you leave me alone with a man Uncle?

Serj.

Peace baggage—Uncle—I'm a Judge.

Chan.

Why are you affraid of an old man?

Serj.

I'le make the Knaves that brought the extent against me
smoak—a Judge—I'le feague the Rogues—Brother, I am your
Lordships most humble and eternally engaged servant and Judge.

Chan.
Oh my Lord Judge your friend:

[goes to the door with the Serjeant and Locks it.
Mar.
Ha! What now! I finde here will be sport,
But Mountacute I will not wrong my love to thee,
I have kept it Pure unsully'd hitherto,
And will, spight of this mighty man,
And mightyer Villain Uncle.

Chan.

My Dear Child I shall respect thy Uncle infinitely for thy sake,
thou hast the Inticing'st Look with thee—I must peep in thy face and
admire thy features—nay, be not bashfull, I am thy friend, thy Governour,
and thou art become my particular Care.

Mar.

Nay, fye my Lord;

Chan.

By the Mass I have a greater kindness for thee then I can express;
why you little Cherubim, what a pair of pretty swelling powting
bubbies hast thou got, they play in and out as they were at bo-peep.
I must Initiate 'em into my favour.

Mar.

Nay, my Lord for Shame.

Chan.

Sweeter then Jessamin or Honey-Suckles, she has call'd my heart
up to my Lips, but I'le make her draw it down to its place: come child.

[he pulls her.
Mar.

Nay, pray my Lord, do no Violence;

Chan.

Why you baggage, if to look Babys in your eyes, to play with
those Lilly white snow-Balls, and to smother thee with kisses be to use
violence, I cannot forbear it.

Mar.

Does this become your Coat my Lord?

Chan.

No matter for my Coat child, it agrees with my body, nay, I
must Plunder.

Mar.

Help, help, within there.

Chan.

Hush huswife, here here's Gold for thee, thou shalt have more
then thou can'st carry.

Mar.

I never can deserve this bounty, nor can I guess why 'tis you
bribe your Servant thus, indeed you make me blush.

Chan.

There she has me again, such another Glance and I am a dead
man: fye, fye, a bribe, a paw-word: Why I have given thee my heart
already, and going to put my body into thy Possession.

Mar.

For Heaven's sake are you Pious?

Chan.

I am not Pious, nay, hang not back, for I will rifle thy sweets,
and bury my self in thy bosome, I will, I will.

Mar.

Help, Murder, Uncle, what shall I do?

Mortimer within.
Mort.

My Lord, Lord Chancellor, ha! are you at it?

Enter Sly.
Sly.

Sir, Sir, My Lord the Earl of March is coming.

Chan.

Let him go to the Devill, could he find no other time but now,
I never disturb'd him at his Recreations.

Sly.

What shall I say my Lord?

Chan.

Say any thing, and be damn'd: Why, you Rascal, you a Lawyer,
and to seek for a Lye.

Mort.
within.

When Priest, when come you?

Mar.

This is lucky.

Chan.

I must to him, the Devill fetch him, go, go, into that Room,
I'le be with you presently; nay, go, all shall be well, and I'le be civill.
[puts her off and locks her in.
You dog could you not deny me, had you no sooner done the Office of
bringing us together, but you must break off the bargain before we had
Sign'd and Seal'd.

Sly.

'Tis some earnest business in the Law he says.

Mort.
Why Chancellour?

Chan.
Well, well, I'm coming,
And when I have dispatch'd him I'le withdraw,
And read another Lesson then the Law.

[Exeunt.