University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Mountacute's House.

Enter Mountacute and Holland.
Mount.
All things move forward with a Prosperous Breeze
And we shall reach the Harbour of Success
Sooner then we believ'd, 'tis now in veiw,
Heav'n seems as if it took Peculiar Care,
Promising safety to the Royall Cause,
Inspires the King who steers the mighty Bark,
Keeping him steady in his Resolution:
This night but over we have gain'd the Bay,
Safely we Ride Contemning future Storms.

Sr. Rob. Holl.
'Tis Wonderfull indeed, it shews the hand
Of Providence is with us, never Prince
Was Grac'd with so much Knowledge as young Edward;
Considering his years 'tis wonderfull,
He weighs with all the Gravity and thought
Of an Experienc'd Statesman what's propos'd;
Still as he speaks, the Accent of each Word.
Keeps proper time, and points to his Revenge.

Lo. Mount.
Ay! there it Centers, nothing is more sweet,
It is the Choicest Dainty of the Gods,
With which they feast themselves on Solemn days;
And 'tis but Just their Representative
Sould Diet on the same when injur'd with 'em.
He Credits now the Baseness of his Mother
Her Rank familiarity with March:
Oh Murder'd Edward—Doubly Massacr'd,
Whose Honour suffer'd with thy Innocence,
While thy Adulterers thrive i'th Eye of Heav'n
They magnify their mischiefs by Success
And Cuckold every hour thy memory.

Sr. Rob. Holl.
Tax not the Powers above lest we'r forsaken,
They often suffer what they do not like:
Their Vengeance makes us think why we are punish'd,
Such visitations whets our Penitence:
Creates reflections on the inward Cause,
For Conscience is the mirror of our Souls,
Which represents the Errors of our Lives
In their full shape.

Lo. Mount.
But tell me friend, what message is return'd
From Exeter and Berkly, will they come,
Or choose they rather tamely to be nooz'd?

Sr. Ro. Holl.
Be not too rash for they are men of Worth,
Do not believe because they left the Court,
Retreating to their Quiet Rurall Seats
Where they might gorge the Vulture of their minds;
They are cold or stupid when their honour calls;
No Mountacute, believe me they have heard
That in the Roll of Fame there yet remains
One Chance, one Glorious Lot that's worthy hazzard
Whereby the Kingdoms fate may be retriev'd,
Rouz'd with the Summons they have wing'd their hast,
Vying who shall become the second Curtius.

Mount.
Why so 'twas with Salisbury when first
I told the Glorious Action now in hand,
He like some Lyon almost stiff with ease,
Lolling at length within his Antick Cave,
Takes the Alarum of the Huntsmans sound,
At which he stretches out his well-grown Limbs,
Brustles his horrid Main and furls his Tail,
Whetting his Crooked Talons on the Rock,
Staulks to the Field, and swells to meet the Foe.

Sr. Rob. Holl.
They meet this Night at Council, where they'l finde
Matter prepar'd sufficient to inspire 'em.

Mount.
All joyn the Nobles, Gentry and the Commons,
The Chain is Rivetted, the wresty People
Whose Rights and Priviledges are usurp'd
No longer free, but all in Vassalage
Are ripe for Mischief, ready for Rebellion;
They wait from us the Signal when to Dole
The Act of Justice; wou'd the cry were up
That I might see these Manglers of the Realm
Drove to the Shambles, and expos'd as Beasts.

Enter a Servant.
Serv.
My Lord a Gentlewoman waits to speak with you.

Sr. Rob. Holl.
I'le take my leave, at six we meet again.

[Exit.
Mount.
I shall not fail—Conduct her in.
Enter Maria.
Your bus'ness fair one;

Mar.
When I shall tell the Subject of my errand,
Possibly it may deserve attention;
But I must request your Privacy.

Mount.
You are obey'd, by Heav'n a charming Creature;
Mount. nods to the Servant, who exits.
Now, speak your pleasure, Madam;

Mar.
I come, my Lord, a Supplyant from a Maid,
Who for some years has ey'd your noble worth,
And tho' her Birth, nor Fortune can pretend,
To merrit that return she long has sigh'd for;
Yet so her Partiall Destiny has order'd,
She still admires your Person and your Virtues.

Mount.
Well, my fair suitress, whither does this tend?
Lovely deportment, and Inticing Innocence.

[aside.
Mar.
With silence hitherto she has conceal'd
The saucy flame oft strove to stifle it
While in its Infant-Growth; but 'twas in vain,
For dayly it encreas'd to such a strength,
As did o're-power the weakness of her Sex;
Maintain'd the Conquest spite of Resolution;
Yet rather then her folly should be known,
She let it Prey upon the Vital Parts,
Hoping at last 'twould end the uneasy days,
And her Ambitious Love dye unreveal'd.

Mount.
That was unkindly done, she could not doubt success
When she had one so fair to plead her Cause.

Mar.
The disproportion is so vast between ye,
That she must still despair and still Love on:
Fortune has plac'd her where you most abhorr
Diseases, Infamy, or Death it self:
You would not shun with more precipit hast
If I should name the Person, yet even there
'Midst of the Toyle and Anguish of her life,
A happy moment did present it self
To make her be the lucky Messenger
Of health to you, tho' she must linguer ever.

Mount.
I'le spare the trouble of your Blushes, Lady,
For I've a Soul so tender of the Sex,
(Skill'd in the little Niceties of Love)
As shall prevent the torture of Confession,
he takes her by the hand, she pulls it from him.
And do you Justice.

Mar.
You wrong your Judgment, and you censure ill,
I came not hither, Sir, on that Account,
No loose desires the Product of ill bloud
Can blast the Reputation of my Life;
My Honour guards me from that Infamy;
But I am hurryed hither by my Fate,
And bring a secret of that great Importance,
The service possibly may merrit pity;
Which if I meet with, I am well rewarded.

Mount.
I do believe it, and accept the offer;
Come, wave this womans method to allure us,
You're safe and secret here, none can disturb us;
And I will give you such returns of Love,
Such hearty Proofs thou shalt be soon convinc'd:
Tho' it be Infant-born it Rivalls thine.

Mar.
Away, How have I err'd? Are all Men thus,
Thus full of Guilt, my senses do recover,
And I begin to loath the Tempters charms:
Reade that
[gives a Paper.
For I must leave you,—oh my heart!
If thou would'st be my friend, beat faster on,
And force thy Passage through these feeble walls.

Mount.
Yet stay—What have I here Proscrib'd?
By all that's Sacred, Peremptory Orders
For my Destruction; March's hand is to't:
How came she by this? now I recollect,
She told me that her fate had fixt her where
I should detest the naming, if I knew it.
It must be so, well my Deliverer
I thank you—by my honour I'm sincere,
This Scrole which thou hast given speaks thy kindness,
And says, thou art all Goodness, tho' the Place
Of thy abode be with the worst of Men;
Nay, tho'it were the Chancellor himself;
Nor will I lag in making a return,
Offers a Purse of Gold. She puts it back.
Tho' at the present I am lost in thought.

Mar.
I am rewarded Sir, and have my end,
If you apply this Caution
To the right use, you may escape the snare,
But if you slight it, then I know the worst;
And tho' I am no suitable Companion
In Life, yet in the Grave, we undistinguish'd
May mingle ashes, tho' our souls are distant.

Mount.
You must not leave me, I have much to say;
The Injury I have done you by suspition,
When my rude thoughts led me into an error,
I must attone.

Mar.
Fye, 'tis too gross!
This Language does not suit my humble Character,
Nor is it Noble to despise my sufferings.

Mount.
By all my hopes of Credit I am reall,
There's something from my eyes have shot my Soul,
And I could gaze for ever on such Goodness;
Thy Tempers worthy, if thy Birth be not,
Distinction never had a Power o're Love;
Cause Nature plac'd me in the Womb of Honour
She has adorn'd thy humbler Clay with Graces,
Which seldom go with Greatness or with Wealth;
And 'tis but common Justice I repay,
A Love where love has merrited so far:

Mar.
It cannot be:
Your Dignity and Honour intervene
Which bar the Banes for ever.

Mount.
What, will not Gratitude with Love conjoyn'd
Remove? tell me no more of Honour, Dignity;
When charms like thine appear all must give place.

Mar.
My Lord, I had a Father and a noble one,
Whose memory yet lives tho' he is dead
Men spoke him Brave if Loyallty can plead In his behalf:
'Twas Collonell Stapleton:
The unhappy Brother of the Bishop of Exeter,
Who by the Cittizens was put to death
For favouring the Cause of Carnarvan, Edward.
But oh, when Royall Edmond
The Uncle and the Guardian of the King
Was taken off, under pretence of Treason,
Mine suffer'd with him, what he had of Honours
Or of Estate the Law has since made forfeit,
And me an Orphan, given into the hands
Of a time-serving Family.
Alass! I blame my self, Condemn my madness,
My ill-match'd passion, and I'le strive
To Curb it's Power. I only Crave your Pitty,
Nor dare I hope for more, and yet I swear,
Your Flattery, tho' known, is gratefull to me.

Mount.
Thou charm'st me still, why Loyallty's a Jem
Fit for a Princes Crown,
I knew thy Father, a Gallant and a worthy man he was,
His suffering was remarkable and noble,
And thou art Richer
Sprung from that, then had a Traytor
Bless'd with millions got thee:
Thou dost encrease the fire within my Breast,
Powring in Oyl instead of Quenching it,
Let me upon this Bosome print my vows,
And swear my self thy Beautys Votary.

Mar.
I know not where I am, the thrilling Joy
Creeps through each part and extacies my Soul:
If this be true, what Queen is half so happy?

Mount.
Give not Distrust to the Reins because you finde
The Change is suddain, The effects are true;
By Heav'n I have more Pleasure in this Chance,
Then e're I tasted since I first view'd Light.

Mar.
I know not what to say my joy's so great,
My sences are Confus'd, all Crow'd to meet you,
The wellcome Guest for whom so much they wish'd,
But little thought it was so near at hand.

Mount.
Believe me, oh thou Star, whose Influence
Has made me happy, that my vows are true:
I'le to the King, Acquaint him with thy goodness,
His safety is procur'd by this Precaution,
And sure he'le recompence thy Loyalty;
With his Consent we will for ever joyn:
Thy Virtues will in future Ages shine,
While untir'd Fame her matchless worth shall sing,
Who sav'd her Country, Lover, and her King.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Enter Mortimer and Chancellour.
Chan.
To Night will it be done?

Mort.
This Night; The Queen's gone to her Son,
Who is in Council with these Men we've mention'd;
At Dead of Night the Guards shall seize 'em,
And when they once are Pris'ners, see you take care
That nothing frees 'em but an Ax or Gibbet.

Chan.
But pray, what Evidence has your Lordship against 'em?

Mort.
Dull Wretch, have I against 'em?
Law and Religion sure are useless grown,
When Priests want Vouchers, or a Judge Informer,
Think of the management in Edmonds Tryal,
And give these Lords his Fate.

Chan.
Well, well, my Lord, their bus'ness shall be done.

Mort.
Or they'l do ours, I know their Subtleties,
They're silent setters all, and close,
Not apt to quest and give their quarry notice:
'Tis then the Net draws certain to destruction.

Chan.
But, my Lord, Judge Eitherside must be the Man,
And you must make him Chief-Justice to go through it.

Mort.
Could'st not thou do't?

Chan.

I, why I'me a Priest, besides Lord Chancellor, and Equity is
never us'd in Cases of Life and Death.

Mort.

Well, loose no time, but instantly prepare for't.

Chan.

Fear not my Diligence in dispatching an enemy, But 'twould
do well to get the Queen to pass an order under the Broad-Seal for the
speedy removing 'em to London, and let her Son be kept here till they're
dispatch'd.

Mort.

It shall be done, is there ought else?

Chan.

That's all, and I'le send up my Creatures before-hand to purchase
a Jury for 'em: As for Evidence, there are Poor Rogues in abundance,
and the larger the Bribe: the stronger the Oath; Adieu, my Lord,
I'le give you an account how my Emissarys Fadge

[Exit.
Mort.
This is a true Compound of Justice and Piety,
For one's guided by Interest, and the other by Ambition:
This fellow hopes to be the head o'th Church,
As much as I hope to be King of England,
And whilst he serves my Ends, Perferment's his:
A Crown, oh the Delightfull sound!
If Isabella Thou wouldst keep me thine,
Thy Son must wait upon thy sleeping Husband:
She's fond and Languishes; why should I doubt?
Oh Love, thy Power has Compass'd wonderous things,
Drove out, Restor'd, Destroy'd, and set up Kings.

[Exit.

SCENE. III.

Discovers the King, Leicester, Mountacute, Berkly, Sir Tho. Delamore, Holland, and Exeter, as at Council.
King.
What will ye further? This Scrole of Mountacutes,
Fully expresses the dire Fiends designs:

Sals.
Time must suit the Rest—
Nor may we trifle Dangerous Distempers,
If they not meet a suddain opposition,
O're power the applycation when too late,
Rendring Art useless:

Exe.
'Tis thoroughly advis'd, pursue it Sir.

Sir Tho. Dell.
Your Father whom we oft admonish'd,
Nay told him plainly what hath since ensu'd,
Laught at our Cautions; Sir, you must be carefull,
Or all is lost beyond recovery.

Exe.
If you Persist in what you seem to like,
Safety and Glory you will finde attend it;
But if your Mother change you, farewell Power:
Let Mortimer the place of Edward fill,
We are content to fall if you are so.

King.
I will observe Directions, weigh each word,
Not vary from a tittle; my safety
Is with yours as yours with mine;
Sure, never Prince was sav'd from greater hazzards:
What must I call you, friends, that name's too poor,
But yet a friend will venture wonderous things,
When what he Loves is compass'd round with danger;
Let me embrace ye all, and tell the world,
No Prince can match the Councell I am bless'd with:
Within.
I must acquaint the Prince e're I admit your Majesty.

Queen.
Traytor:

Enter a Waiter Driven in by the Queen.
King.
What means this noise?

[They all rise, she walks round 'em comes to the front and speaks.
Queen.
The Rumour then is true, I finde it now,
But I much wonder ye Audacious men,
That ye Assemble here without my leave;
You who had fell and Justly for your crimes,
Had not my Clemency excus'd your Lives,
Has mercy harden'd your Presumptious hearts,
Or are ye past reproof?

Sr Tho. Dell.
Madam, what we have done—

Queen.
There is a better man to answer me
Then Delamore thou Usher to these Schoolmen,
Which in their absence sets my Son such lessons.

Mount.
Then since your Majesty—

Queen.
Boys I could never listen to,
Go Prattle with my Pages.

Leice.
If I may speak—

Queen.
Thou Driblest on thy beard, Age is a Changeling,
And Languishes for Hospitals: You Sirs, I speak
To Salisbury and Exeter, who draw together
In the Team of Politicks, Who sent for you?
Be brief and answer Justly, as you love your Lives.

Sals.
That we esteem our Lives is very plain,
Our Care o'th' King's confirms it:
It is by his Command we here are met,
To Argue his Proposalls, solve his Questions,
And to the utmost of our thoughts and Duty
Preserve the King in Grandeur, Peace, and Safety.

Queen.
The King.

Exe.
The King, your Majesty can be no stranger
Being so near related.

Queen.
Unheard of Insolence, Why who am I?

Exe.
His Mother:

Queen.
Traytor, there is another name and title due to me.

Exet.
None that we know of.

Queen.

Thou lyest, and I will stamp the falshood down thy Throat—
Unthankfull Boy, how can'st thou suffer this, and hear thy Mother talkt
so to by Slaves?

King.
Madam, your passion makes their duty stagger,
You use 'em not like Noblemen but Pedants;
Tho' Subjects, they have no dependance on us,
And Majesty's adorn'd and serv'd by them,
Much more then is at all times fit to own;
'Tis true they are not safe, but under Kings,
Nor Kings can't flourish but by such assistance.

Queen.
Indeed Sir, are you grown a Disputant,
And Jabber Politicks so Learnedly?
Thou Tool, thou Instrument of self destruction,
Dost think these State worms mean thee further good
Then what may serve to Introduce their own?
I tell thee, Councellors are all alike,
And Princes know no more then they think fitting;
So whilst his Glory does not injure theirs,
They are content, they may grow great together.

Sals.
Madam, this Doctrine may be Prov'd elsewhere
Where Powers unjustly us'd by sad Permission:
We have no Ends nor Aim but the Kings safety,
'Tis true so far our own depends upon't;
The King's our Shepheard, born to protect his People,
And as the Lamb flys from the Wolf to him
That Guards the Flock, so we seek refuge here:
Life's all we hope for; indeed Life's all in all;
And 'tis so sweet that all are fond to save it.

King.
Mother, in short, I am of Age to Govern,
And here assume the Right my Father left me:
These I have chose to be my Worthy Guides,
I have resolv'd this and will make it good.

Queen.
Have I no place? am I a Cipher grown?
Will none afford a place for Dignity?

King.
Accept of mine:

Queen.
No, this may serve your Mother,
Sits down at the end of the Table by Leic.
I will sit here with this good mans allowance:
Come I'e be Govern'd too—Pray be my friends
As well as his for once.

Exe.
Nay Madam, this we must not suffer neither:

Queen.
What am I left alone?
[They all retire from the Table
Am I infectious? dare none sit near the Plague?
Ungracious Boy is this thy filiall Love?
This the return for all the Pangs and Throws
I suffer'd at thy Birth? this the reward
[Weeps
For all my Sorrows, Cares, Anxieties,
Which through thy sickly Infancy possest me,
When many a weary night bereft of Rest,
I've slumber'd o're thy Cradle, and bemoan'd
My own hard fate? now it proves so indeed:
I've nurst a Viper, given an Adder warmth;
Which, having grown to strength forgets its parent,
And Covets Preying on her Entrails; oh! monstrous Crime.

King.
Nay Mother, mother—

Exe.
Be not caught Sir, these tears like those of Syrens
Entice you but to Leap to sure Destruction.

Queen.
Must he alone have credit? am I nothing?
Return e're 'tis too late, I do conjure thee,
By all the Comforts thou hast e're receiv'd,
By all thy Duty due, which heav'n Commands,
Attend my Prayers, and throw the Envenom'd Robe
Off from thy Person ere the Poison fix,
Or else thou art lost for ever:

Sr. Tho. Dell.
Oh Sir, be steady, or you ruine all:

King.
I must retire or I shall melt to folly, Madam,
I'm Indispos'd and must withdraw:

Queen.
Come hither Child, and rest upon my bosome,
I'le hush thy Cares and quiet thy Disturbers,
As when I lull'd thee first:

Exe.
Away Sir,

Queen.
My Son,

Sals.
Be Deaf Sir,

Queen.
Edward my only Edward hear thy Mother:

King.
Force me away if you regard my Glory.

Mount.
That shan't be wanting:

[They force him off
Queen.
My Child, my Comfort, darling,
[Ex. all but Queen.
Prop of my Life,
I shall grow mad, I finde the fury seize me;
My Gall boyls up, and I am all on fire,
Come then, revenge, thou Banquet of the Gods,
And let me Gorge my Ravenous Appetite;
Inspire me Nemisis thou subtlest fury,
Drive from my Soul the Weakness of my Sex,
And make me Masculine in my Attempts:
Some women have done Wonders in their Rage,
Why shou'd not I, for I have cause Prodigious?
Nature for ever here I banish thee:
Remorse and Conscience, Pitty, all farewell,
Instruct me Malice, and assist me Hell.

[Exit.