 | The Unhappy Favourite : or the Earl of Essex |  |
14
Actus Secundus
Scena prima.
Countess of Essex.C. Ess.
Is this the Joy of a New Marry'd Life?
This all the taste of Pleasures that are Feign'd
To flow from sweet and Everlasting Springs?
By what false Opticks do we view those sights,
And by our ravenous Wishes seem to draw
Delights so far beyond a Mortals reach,
And bring 'em home to our deluded Breasts?
'Tis not yet long since that Blest Day was past,
A Day I wisht that shou'd for ever last;
The Night once gone, I did the Morning Chide,
Whose Beams betray'd me by my Essex side,
And whilst my Blushes, and my Eyes he blest,
I strove to hide 'em in his panting Breast,
And my hot Cheeks close to his Bosom laid,
Listning to what the Guest within it said,
Where Fire to Fire the Noble Heart did burn
Close like a Phœnix in her spicey Urn:
I sigh'd, and wept for Joy, a showre of Tears,
And felt a thousand sweet, and pleasant fears,
Too rare for Sense, too exquisite to say;
Pain we can count, but Pleasure steals away:
But Business now, and envyous Glory's Charms
Have snatcht him from these ever Faithful Arms,
Ambition, that's the highest way to Woe,
Cruell Ambition, Love's Eternal Foe.
Enter Southampton.
South.
Thou dearest Partner of my dearest Friend,
The brightest Plannet of thy shining Sex,
Forgive me for the unwelcome News I bring,—
Essex is come, the most deplor'd of Men!
C. Ess.
Now by the sacred Joy that fills my Heart,
15
Is my Lord come? say, speak.
South.
Too sure he's come—
But oh that Seas, as wide as Waters flow,
Or burning Lakes as broad, and deep as Hell,
Had rather parted you for ever,
So Essex had been safe on th'other side.
C. Ess.
My Lord, you much amaze me—
Pray what of ill has happen'd since this Morning,
That the Queen Guarded him with so much mercy,
And then refus'd to hear his false Impeachers?
South.
Too soon alass h'as forfeited his Honours,
Places, and Wealth, but more his precious Life,
Condemn'd by the too cruel Nation's Laws
For leaving his Commission, and returning,
When the Queens absolute Commands forbid him.
C. Ess.
Fond hopes! must then our meeting prove so fatal!
South.
Say Madam, now what help will you propose,
Can the Queens pitty any more protect him?
Never, it is no longer in her Power,
She must, tho 'gainst her Will deliver him
A Sacrifice to all his greedy Foes.
C. Ess.
Where is my Lord?
South.
Blunt left him on the Way,
And came disguis'd in haste to give me notice.
C. Ess.
Let him go back, and give my Essex warning,
Conjuring him from us to stir no further,
But straight return to Ireland e're 'tis known
He left the place.
South.
Alas it is no secret;
Besides, he left the Town almost as soon
As Blunt, and is expected every moment.
C. Ess.
How cou'd it be reveal'd so suddenly?
South.
I know not that, unless from Hell it came,
Where Cecil too is Privy Counsellor,
And knows as much as any Devil there.
I met the cunning Fiend and Rawleigh whispering;
And the fair treacherous Nottingham,
I saw bedeck'd with an ill-natur'd smile,
That shew'd Malicious Beauty to the height.
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Hold, hold, my Lord, my Fears begin to wrack me,
And Danger now in all it's horryd Shapes,
Stalks in my way, and mmakes my Blood run cold,
Worse than a thousand Glaring Spirits cou'd do.
Assist me straight thou Damon to my Essex,
Help me thou more than Friend in misery—
I'le to the Queen, and straight declare our Marriage;
She will have mercy on my helpless State,
Pitty these Tears, and all my humble Postures;
If not for me, nor for my Essex sake,
Yet for the Illustrious Offspring that I bear;
I'll Go, I'll Run, I'll Hazard all this Moment.
[Offers to be gone.
South.
Led by vain Hopes, you fly to your Destruction;
There wants but that dread Secret to be known,
To tumble you for ever to Despair,
And leave you both Condemn'd without the Hopes
Of the Queens Pitty, or Remorse hereafter.
C. Ess.
Curst be the Stars that flatter'd at our Births,
That shone so bright, with such unusual Luster,
As Cheated the whole World into belief
Our Lives alone were all their chiefest Care.
South.
Be Comforted, rely on Essex Fate,
And the Queens Mercy—
Behold she comes, our good or evil Fate,
In discontented Characters wrote on
Her Brow.
Enter the Queen, Burleigh, Countess of Nottingham, Rawleigh, Attendant Guards.
Queen.
Is Essex then Arriv'd?
Burl.
He is.
Queen.
Then he has lost me all the flattering hopes
[Aside.
I ever had to save him—Come say you!
Who else came with him?
Burl.
Some few Attendants.
Queen.
Durst the most vile of Traytors serve me thus!
Double my Strength about me, draw out Men,
And set a Guard before the Palace Gates,
And bid my valliant Friends the Citizens
Be ready straight—I shall be murder'd else,
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See all this done: For how can I be safe
If Essex that I Favour'd seeks my Life.
Burl.
Wil't please your Majesty to see the Earl?
Queen.
No.
Burl.
Shall I publish straight your Royal Order,
That may forbid his coming to the Court,
Until your Majesty Command him?
Queen.
Neither—
How durst you seem t'interpret what's my Pleasure!
No, I will see him if 'a comes, and then
Leave me to act without your saucy Aid,
If I have any Royal Power.
C. Ess.
Blest be the Queen, blest be the pittying God
That has inspir'd her.
[Aside.
South.
Most admir'd of Queens,
Thus low unto the ground I bend my body,
And wish I cou'd sink lower through the Earth,
To suit a Posture to my humble Heart.
I tremble to excuse my gallant Friend
In contradiction to your Heavenly will,
Who like a God knows all, and 'tis enough
You think him innocent, and he is so;
But yet your Majesty's most Royal Soul,
That soars so high above the humble malice
Of base and sordid Wretches under you,
Perhaps is ignorant the valiant Earl
Has Foes, Foes that are only so, because
Your Majesty has crown'd him with your Favours,
And lifted him so far above their sights,
That 'tis a pain to all their envious eyes
To look so high above him; and of these
Some grow too neer your Royal Person,
As the ill Angels did at first in Heaven,
And daily seek to hurt this brave Mans Virtue.
Queen.
Help me thou infinite Ruler of all things,
That sees at once far as the Sun displays,
And searches every Soul of humane kind,
Quick, and unfelt, as Light infuses Beams,
Unites, and makes all Contradictions centre,
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Governs innumerable distant Parts
By one intire same Providence at once.
Teach me so far thy holy Art of Rule,
As in a mortal reason may distinguish
Betwixt bold Subjects, and a Monarchs Right,
Burl.
May't please your Majesty, the Earl is come
And waits your Pleasure.
Queen.
Let him be admitted—
Now now support thy Royalty,
And hold thy Greatness firm; but oh, how heavy
A Load is State where the Free Mind's disturb'd!
How happy a Maid is she that always lives
Far from high Honour, in a low Content,
Where neither Hills, nor dreadful Mountains grow,
But in a Vale where Springs and Pleasures flow;
Where Sheep lye round instead of Subjects Throngs,
The Trees for Musick, Birds instead of Songs;
Instead of Essex one poor faithful Hind,
He as a Servant, She a Mistress kind,
Who with Garlands for her Coming crowns her Dore,
And all with Rushes strews her little floore,
Where at their mean Repast no Fears attend
Of a false Enemy, or falser Friend;
No care of Cepters, nor ambitious Frights
Disturb the quiet of their sleep at Nights.—
He comes; this proud Invader of my Rest,
A comes; but I intend so to receive him—
Enter the Earl of Essex with Attendants.
Essex kneels. The Queen turns to the Countess of Nottingham.
Essex.
Long live the mightiest, most ador'd of Queens,
The brightest Power on Earth that Heav'n e're form'd;
Aw'd and amaz'd the trembling Essex kneels,
Essex that stood the dreadful voice of Cannons,
Hid in a darker Field of Smoak and Fire,
Than that where Cyclops blow the Forge, and sweat
Beneath the mighty Hill, whilst Bullets round me
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And lost their Fury on my Shield and Corslet;
And stood these Dangers unconcern'd, and dauntless;
But you the most Majestick, brightest Form
That ever rul'd on Earth, have caught my Soul,
Surpris'd its Virtues all with dread and wonder;
My humble Eyes durst scarcely look up to you,
Your dazling Miene, and Sight so fill the Place,
And every Part Celestial Rays adorn.
Queen.
Ha!
[Aside.
Essex.
'Tis said I have been guilty—
I dare not rise, but crawl thus on the earth,
'Till I have leave to kiss your Sacred Robe,
And clear before the justest, best of Queens,
My wrong'd and wounded Innocence.
Quee.
What said'st thou Nottingham? what said the Earl?
[Aside
Essex.
What not a Word! a Look! not one blest Look!
Turn, turn your crul Brow, and kill me with
A Frown; it is a quick and surer way
To rid you of your Essex,
Than Banishment, than Fetters, Swords, or Axes—
What, not that neither! Then I plainly see
My Fate, the malice of Enemies
Triumphant in their joyful faces; Burleigh
With a glad Cowards smile, that knows 'has got
Advantage o're his valiant Foe, and Rawleigh's proud
To see his dreaded Essex kneel so long,
Essex that stood in his great Mistress Favour
Like a huge Oak, the loftiest of the Wood,
Whilst they no higher cou'd attain to be
Then humble Succors nourisht by my Root,
And like the Ivy twin'd their flatt'ring Arms
About my Waste, and liv'd but by my Smiles—
Quee.
I must be gone: for if I stay I shall
Here wrack my Conduct, and my Fame for ever—
(Aside...)
Thus the charm'd Pilot listning to the Syrens,
Lets his rich Vessel split upon a Rock,
And looses both his Life and Wealth together. (...Aside.)
Essex.
Still am I shun'd as if I wore Destruction—
[rises.
Here, here my faithful and my valiant Friends,
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Behold this Bosom studdied o're with Scars,
This marble Breast, that has so often held,
Like a fierce Battlement against the Foes
Of Englands Queen, that made a hundred Breaches;
Here, pierce it straight, and through this Wild of wounds
Be sure to reach my Heart, this loyal Heart,
That sits consulting 'midst a thousand Spirits
All at command, all faithful to my Queen.
Queen.
(Aside...)
If I had ever Courage, Haughtiness,
Or Spirit, help me but now, and I am happy!
He melts; it flows, and drowns my heart with Pitty,
If I stay longer I shall tell him so (...Aside.)
—
What is this Traytor in my sight!
All that have Loyalty, and love their Queen,
Forsake this horrid Wretch, and follow me.
Exeunt Queen and her Attendants, manet Essex solus.
Ess.
She's gone, and darted fury as she went—
Cruellest of Queens!
Not heard! Not hear your Souldier speak one word!
Essex that once was all day list'ned to;
Essex, that like a Cherub held thy Throne,
Whilst thou didst dress me with thy wealthy Favours,
Cheer'd me with Smiles, and deck'd me round with Glories;
Nor was thy Crown scarce worship'd on thy head
Without me by thy Side; but now art deaf
As Adders, Winds, or the remorseless Seas,
Deaf as thy cunning Sexes Ears to those
That make unwelcome Love—What news my Friend?
Enter Southampton.
South.
Such as I dare not tell; but pardon me,
As an ill Bird that pearches on the side
Of some tall Ship foretels a storm at hand,
I come to give you warning of the danger—
See Cecil with a Message from the Queen.
Ess.
Then does my Wrack come rolling on a-pace;
That foul Leviathan nere yet appear'd
Without a horrid Tempest from his Nostrils.
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Burl.
Hear Robert Earl of Essex,
Hear what the Queen, my Lord, by us pronounces;
She now divests you of your Offices,
Your dignities of Governour of Ireland,—
Earl Martial, Master of her Horse, General
Of all her Forces both by Land and Sea,
And Lord Lieutenant of the several Counties,
Of Essex, Hereford, and Westmerland.
Ess.
A vast and goodly summ all at one Cast
By an unlucky hand thrown quite away.
Burl.
Also her Pleasure is, that in obedience
To her Commands, you send your Staff by us,
Then leave the Court, and stirr no farther then
Your House, till order from the Queen and Council.
Ess.
Thanks my Misfortunes, for you fall with weight
Upon me, and Fate shoots her Arrows thick;
'Tis hard if they not find one mortal Place
About me—
Burl.
My Lord, what shall we tell her Majesty?
What is your Answer, for the Queen expects us?
Ess.
Wilt thou then promise to be just, and tell her?
Give her a Caution of her worst of Foes,
Thy greedy self, the Lands infesting Giant,
Exacting Heads from her best Subjects daily;
Worse than the Phrygian Monster, he was more
Cheaply compounded with, and but devour'd
Seav'n Virgins in a week, and spar'd the rest.
South.
Hold, my brave Friend, waste not the noble breath
Of Essex on so base and mean a Subject—
Thou Traytor to thy Sovereign and her Kingdomes,
More full of guilt than e're thou didst devise
To lay on Essex, whom thou fear'st and hatest;
And thou, because thy sordid Soul, and Person
Ne're fitted thee
For gallant Actions, thinkest the World so too:
For he that looks through a foul Glass that's stain'd,
Sees all things stain'd like the foul Perspective he uses.
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To win a Battel or be fortunate,
Whilst thou standst by the Queen to intercept,
Or else determine Favours from her hands;
'Tis not who is too blame, or who deserves,
Nor whom the Queen wou'd look on with a Grace,
But whom proud Cecil pleases to reward,
Or punish, and the Valiant never scape thee;
Curst be the brave that fall into such hands;
For Cowards still are cruel and malitious.
Burl.
This I dare tell, and that Southampton said it.
South.
And put her too in mind of thy vain Glories,
Such Impudence and Ostentation in thee.
And so much horrid Pride and Costliness,
As wou'd undo a Monarch to supply.
Ess.
So thrives the lazy Gown, and such as sleep
On Woolsacks, and on Seat of injur'd Justice,
Or learn to prate at Council-Tables; but
How miserable is Fortune to the Valiant!
Were but Commanders half so well rewarded
For all their Winters Camps, and Summers Fights,
Then they might eat, and the poor Soldiers Widdows,
And Children too might all be kept from starving.
Raw.
My Lord in speaking thus you tax the Queen
Of Weakness and Injustice both, and that
She favours none but Worthless Persons.
Burl.
Must we return this stubborn Answer to her?
You'l not obey her Majesty, nor here
Resign your Staff of Offices to us?
Ess.
Tell her what e're thy malice can invent;
Yet if thou sayst I'll not obey the Queen,
I tell thee Lord,
'Tis false, false as thy most inveterate Soul
That looks through the foul Prison of thy Body,
And curses all she sees at liberty—
I tell thee creeping thing, the Queen's too good,
More merciful than to condemn a Slave,
Much less her Essex wichout hearing him—
I will appeal to her—
Burl.
You'l not believe us,
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Essex.
I do not.
Burl.
Fare you well my Lords.
[Exeunt Burleigh and Rawleigh.
Ess.
Go thou
My brave Southampton, follow to the Queen,
And quickly e're my cruel Foes are heard,—
Tell her that thus her faithful Essex says,
This Star she deck'd me with; and all these honours else,
In one blest hour, when scarce my tender years
Had reach'd the Age of Man, she heap'd upon me,
As if the Sun that sows the Seeds of Gemms
And golden Mines had showr'd upon my head,
And drest me like the Bridegroom of her favour.
This thou beheldst, and Nations wonder'd at,
The World had not a Favourite so great,
So lov'd as I.
South.
And I am witness too
How many gracious Smiles she blest 'em with,
And parted with a Look with every Favour,
Was doubly worth the Gift, whilst the whole Court
Was so well pleas'd, and shew'd their wondrous joy
In shouting louder than the Roman Bands
When Julius and Augustus were made Consuls.
Ess.
Thou canst remember too; for all she said was signal,
That at the happy time she did invest
Her Essex with this Robe of shining Glories,
She bad me prize 'em as I wou'd my Life,
Defend 'em as I wou'd her Crown and Person:
Then a rich Sword she put into my Hand,
And wish'd me Cæsars Fortune; so she grac'd me.
South.
So young Alcides, when he first wore Arms,
Did fly to kill the Eremanthean Boar,
And so Achilles, first by Thætis made
Immortal, hasted to the Siege of Troy.
Ess.
Go thou Southampton; for thou art my Friend,
And such a Friend's an Angel in distress;
Now the false Globe that flatter'd me is gone,
Thou art to me more Wealth, more Recompence
Than all the World was then—Intreat the Queen
To bless me with a Moments sight,
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As travelling Pilgrims do before the Shrines
Of Saints they went a thousand Leagues to visit,
And her bright Virgin Honours all untainted,
Her Sword not spoil'd with rust, but wet with blood,
All Nations blood that disobey'd my Queen;
This Staff that disciplin'd her Kingdoms once,
And triumph'd o're an hundred Victories;
And if she will be pleas'd to take it, say
My Life, the Life of once her Darling Essex.
South.
I fly my Lord, and let your hopes repose
On the kind Zeal Southampton has to serve you.
[Ex. Southampton.
Ess.
Where art thou Essex! where are now thy Glories!
Thy Summers Garlands, and thy Winters Lawrels,
The early Songs that ev'ry morning wak'd thee;
Thy Halls, and Chambers throng'd with Multitudes,
More than the Temples of the Persian God
To worship thy uprising, and when I appear'd,
The blushing Empress of the East, Aurora,
Gladded the World not half so much as I:
Yesterday's Sun saw his great Rival thus,
The spiteful Plannet saw me thus ador'd,
And some tall-built Pyramid, whose Height
And golden Top confronts him in his sky,
He tumbles down with lightning in his rage;
So on a sudden has he snatcht my Garlands,
And with a Cloud impal'd my gawdy Head,
Struck me with Thunder, dasht me from the Heav'ns,
And oh! 'tis Dooms-day now, and darkness all with me.
Here I'll lie down—Earth will receive her Son.
Take Pattern all by me, you that hunt glory,
You that do climb the Rounds of high Ambition;
Yet when y'ave reach'd, and mounted to the Top,
Here you must come by just degrees at last,
If not fall Headlong down at once like me—
Here I'll abide close to my loving Center:
For here I'me sure that I can fall no further.—
Enter Earl of Rutland.
Ha! what makes thou here! Tell me fairest Creature?
25
To come to be infected with my Woe,
And disobey the angry Queen for me?
C. Ess.
Bless me my Angel, guard me from such Sounds;
Is this the Language of a welcome Husband!
Are these fit words for Essex Bride to hear!
Bride I may truly call my self, for Love
Had scarce bestow'd the Blessing of one Night,
But snatch'd thee from these Arms.
Ess.
My Soul, my Love!
Come to my Breast thou purest Excellence,
And throw thy lovely Arms about my Neck,
More soft, more sweet, more loving than the Vine.
Oh! I'm o'recome with Joy, and sink beneath
[They embrace.
Thy Breast.
C. Ess.
Take me along with thee my Dear—
My Essex, wake my Love, I say:
I am grown jealous of each Bliss without thee;
There's not a Dream, an Extasie or Joy,
But I will double in thy ravish'd Senses.
Come let's prepare, and mingle Souls together,
Thou shalt lose nothing but a gainer be:
Mine is as full of Love as thine can be.
Ess.
Where have I been! But yet I have thee still—
Come sit thee down upon this humble Floor,
It was the first kind Throne that Love e're had.
Thus like the first bright Couple let's embrace,
And fansie all around is Paradice.
It must be so; for all is Paradice
Where thou remainst, thou lovelier far than Eve.
C. Ess.
And thou more brave, and nobler Person far,
Than the first Man, whom Heav'ns peculiar Care
Made for a Pattern for ingenious Nature,
Which ne'r till thee excell'd th'Original.
Ess.
Thus when th'Almighty form'd the lovely Maid,
And sent her to the Bower where Adam lay,
The first of Men awak'd, and starting from
His mossey flow'ry Bed whereon he slept,
Lifted his eyes, and saw the Virgin coming,
Saw the bright Maid that glitter'd like a Star,
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Thus they did meet, and thus they did embrace,
Thus in the Infancy of pure desire,
E're Lust, Displeasures, Jealousies, and Fears
Debauch'd the World, and plagu'd the Breast of Man;
Thus in the dawn of golden Time, when Love,
And only Love taught Lovers what to do.
C. Ess.
O thou most dear, most priz'd of all Mankind;
I burn, I faint, I'm ravish'd with thy Love;
The Feavor is too hot,
It scorches, Flames like pure Æthærial Fire,
And 'tis not Flesh and Blood, but Spirits can bear it,
And those the brightest of Angelick Forms.
Ess.
That is thy self, thy only self, thou fairest;
There's not in Heav'n so bright a Cherubin;
No Angel there but for thy Love wou'd dye;
The Thrones are all less happy there than I.
C. Ess.
O my best Lord! the Queen, the Queen my Love!
Ah what have we committed to undo us!
The Pow'rs are angry, and have sent the Queen,
The jealous Queen of all our innocent Joys,
To drive us from our Paradice of Love;
And oh my Lord! she will not ere't be long
Allow us this poor Plat, this Ground to mourn on.
Ess.
Weep not my Soul, my Love, my infinite All—
Ah what cou'd I express if there were words
To tell how much, how tenderly my Thoughts
Adore thee—Ah these tears are drops of Blood,
Thy Essex Blood, my World, my Heav'n, my Bride—
I, there's the Start of all my Joyes beside,
Blest that I am that I can call thee Wife,
That loves so well, and is so well belov'd.
C. Ess.
A hold my Lord, what shall I say of you,
That best deserves a Love so well you speak of.
Ess.
Again thou weepst—By Heav'n there's not a Tear
But weighs more than the Wealth of England's Crown.
O thou bright Storer of all Vertues, were there
But so much Goodness in thy Sex beside,
It were enough to save all Womand-kind,
And keep 'em from Damnation—Still thou weepst—
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Hold thy Cheeks close to mine that none may fall,
And spare me some of these Celestial Drops.
Thus as two Turtles driven by a Storm,
Dropping and weary, shelter'd on a Bough,
Begin to joyn their Melancholly voices,
Then thus they Bill, and thus renew their Joyes,
With quivering Wings, and Cooing Noats repeat
Their Loves, and thus like us bemoan each other.
Enter a Lady.
Lady.
Madam, the Queen expects you instantly.
C. Ess.
Ah, what wou'd wish to be of humane kind!
Man in his Life scarce finds a Moments bliss,
But counts a thousand Pains for one short Pleasure,
And when that comes 'tis snatch'd away like ours.
Ess.
Go my best hopes, obey the Cruel Queen—
I had forgot; thy Love, thy beauties charm'd me,
Dearer than Albion to the Saylors sight
Whom many years bar'd from his Native Country;
Looking on thee, I gaz'd my Soul away,
And quite forgot the dangerous Wrecks below—
Farewell—Nay then thou'lt soften me to Fondness—
The Queen may change, and we may meet again.
C. Ess.
Farewell.
Ess.
So have I seen a tall rich Ship of India
Of mighty Bulk teeming with golden Oar,
With prosperous Gales come sayling nigh the shore;
Her Train of Pendants born up by the Wind;
The gladsome Seas proud of the lovely weight,
Now lift her up above the sky in height,
And then as soon th'officious Waves divide,
Hug the gay Thing, and clasp her like a Bride,
Whilst Fishes play, and Dolphins gather round,
And Trytons with their Coral Trumpets sound;
Till on a hidden Rock at last she's born,
Swift as our Fate, and thus in Pieces torn.
Exeunt severally.
Finis Actus Secundi.
| The Unhappy Favourite : or the Earl of Essex | |