University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter Blunt with Letters, Rochford.
Blunt.
My Lord, you act the cunning Lover well,
Paint a rare Passion under all Disguises;
Yet oh! I wish this Art had not been learnt,
But Natune in you, and true Love the Teacher;
Yet I will prize and hoard your Letters safe,
As I would fragrant Flowers within my Bosom.

Roch.
O my prodigious and exalted Soul,
And my more precious Stars! I bless you all.
Is there a Man 'mongst all your Favourites,
So rich, so happy, and so lov'd as I!
Methinks, for my dear Anna Bullen's sake,
If possible, I love you better now,
Since I dare call you by the Name of Sister.

Blunt.
And I much more now I can call you Brother.

Roch.
O my too weighty Joys! Immortal State!
And more Immortal Love!

Blunt.
No more: I'le chide you.
This is too great, too violent to last—
Hold! give your Passion Breath, leave some for next,
And love not all your VVishes out at once—
Where is the Queen?

Roch.
I left her discontent.

Blunt.
Why, where is Piercy? Has she seen him yet?

Roch.
Seen him she has: but would not speak to him.

Blunt.
Not speak to him! Oh Cruel, most Inhumane!
Had she but seen him in that state as I did,
She would have spoke to him, and dy'd for him.

Roch.
Alas! Her Cruelty drew Pity from
Her Eyes and Mine.

Blunt.
Would she not speak t'him then!

Roch.
No; not a word: but quite o're-came her Pity,
And went away resolv'd ne're more to see him.

Blunt.
The Reason.

Roch.
She'd not tell—But I most doubt
Her scrupulous Virtue is the Cause.

Blunt.
Impossible!
Virtue can never lodge with Cruelty.
What stain were it to th'whitest Innocence?
What Crime in the severest Virtue once,
In her Condition, but to hear him speak?
Come! she must see him—

Roch.
Would my Life, and Fortune,
Nay, all my Rights of Love, and Hopes in thee,
Could purchase her Consent to seem him once,
Pardon the Sallies of most mighty Friendship,
So well I wish him, I would hazard all.

Blunt.
Go tell, as from your self, the sad condition
Her horrid Cruelty has brought him to.
Within this hour he enter'd my Apartment,
Not like the Great, the Brave, and Charming Piercy,
Whose Person none cou'd see without adoring:
But like a dreadful Ghost, or horrid Shadow,
Far worse than what dead, melancholly Midnight,
To frighted Man, e're painted in a Dream;
The Evil Genius of his Family
Ne're look'd so mad, nor threaten'd half the Woe,
As he did to himself.

Roch.
Unhappy Piercy.

Blunt.
At first his sight was pointed to the Earth,
Then with a Groan, charg'd with a Volley of Sighs,
He lifted up his fatal Eyes on me, which I
Could scarce behold with mine, they were so full
Of pitying Tears—
Then ran into such bitter, sad Complaints
Against our Sexes loath'd Inconstancy,
That I was forc'd to chide him—

Roch.
Oh, no more!
It wakes my drowsie Conscience from its rest,
And stabs it with a Guilt.

Blunt.
But then at last
From Railings into Blessings streight he fell,
And on his Knees beseech'd me that I'd plead,
And beg the Queen, but once to see her Piercy;
Which I, rack'd with Compassion, promis'd him.
Alas! I fear more than I can perform:
This said, I rise, and Piercy follow'd me;
Therefore I charge you, by the Power of Friendship,
By Piercy's Woes, and all the Love you owe
To me! go and prevail that he may see her:
He said that you had vow'd to bring't to pass.

Roch.
I'le do it instantly; and if she will not,
I'le bear her Body in these Arms by Force;
Her mind, I'm sure, is willing to be with him.

Blunt.
She's coming streight this way; go quickly you,
(The miserable Wretch is yet without,)
And give him notice, now's the time to speak t'her,
Then streight return to hold her in Discourse
Till Piercy comes.

Roch.
So kind and pitiful!
May all thy Cruel Sex be blest for thee.
[Ex. Roch.

Blunt.
So—this has prov'd a lucky Tale, and now
This rare Intelligence goes to my Woolsey,
Who'l send th'Alarm to the watchful King,
Streight to surprize him with his Wife, like Jason,
Just stealing of his Golden Fleece away—
She comes, she comes, this Player-Queen; but know,
This is the last proud Act of all thy show;
This is a Bait, kind Stars, if you'l not frown,
With which I'le take Revenge, or catch a Crown:
And when sh'has got her Heav'n, and I my Aim;
Who then dares tell me that I was to blame!
For who contemns a prosp'rous Wickedness,
Or thinks that ill, that's Sainted with Success.
[Ex. Blunt.

Enter Queen with a Letter.
Queen.
What shall I do! where teach my trembling Feet
Their way! was ever Virtue storm'd like mine!
Within, without, I am haunted all alike;
Without tormented with a jealous King,
Within, my Fears suggest a thousand Plagues,
Bid me remember injur'd Piercy's Wrongs,
And brand me with the Name of Cruel to him;
Then on a sudden a more dreadful thought
Upbraids me with a Guilt;
And tells me, that kind Pity is a Sin.
Witness, and blame not me, y'Immortal Powers!
When you expose two diff'rent Paths, one Good,
The other bad, and tell not which to take:
If to obey you is my Aim, just Heav'n!
'Tis not my fault if I shou'd chuse the wrong

Enter Rochford.
Roch.
Sister! most Royal, Merciful, and Fair,
And best belov'd of Heav'n, and all Mankind,
Let your dear Brother make it his Request,
Thus on his Knees, as Deities are Charm'd,
That you would hear th'unhappy Piercy speak,
This once, and but this once—Piercy's without;
Shall my best Friend take but his last Farewell?
Grant it, or never more let Rochford see you.

Queen.
Oh Brother! plead no more, 'tis all in vain;
Do not betray thy Sister to a Guilt,
And stain the Crystal Virtue of a Soul,
Which still she holds far dearer than a Crown;
Seek not, by Vile Enchantments, to destroy
That Innocence which yet is all my Force,
All the Defence poor Bullen has against
A jealous Husband, Cruel Foes, and worse,
Against the Malice of Inveterate Hell.

Roch.
What Danger can there be? what Guilt in you?
To hear the Wretched and the Injur'd pray?
Come; for you will, you shall, you must now hear him.

Queen.
No more! no more. There's yet a subtler Orator
Than you, or Pity, pleads for Piercy here,
Here in my firm couragious Soul, and stronger
Than Father, Mother, or ten thousand Brothers,
Yet I can that deny.

Roch.
What shall I tell him?

Queen.
Tell him, we are undone; I must not see him;
And what's far worse, the King is jealous; tell him
I love him—Tell him what is false, I hate him;
Say any thing; but let me not behold him;
For oh! my Weakness he so fierce assaults,
'Twill spoil—'Twill wrack my Conduct—See, he comes.
Enter Piercy.
Most Cruel Piercy!—Cruel Brother rather—
Help—Take, and bear me swiftly from the Danger.

Roch.
Cast but one Look, and you must needs relent.

Queen.
What shall I do? which Passage shall I chuse?
[Aside.
Arm me, kind Heav'n! against my Foe of Pity.

Pier.
Still, still she turns, and hides her treach'rous Eyes—
Is't possible that she can feel Remorse?
Or Pity after all? O no; she loves too well
The fatal Cause that purchas'd all this Pomp—
Stay, Anna Bullen! Stay; my Queen—Perhaps
It is expected I should call you Queen:
Behold your Hatred—

Queen.
Fly, good Piercy, fly:
There's Nets preparing for your life and mine—
There's nought but Snares and Quick-sands where we tread,
Unfathom'd Pits hid under painted Grounds
Where vast Destruction watches to devour us:
Farewell—

Pier.
Hear me but first, and shew thy Face,
Thy false, dissembling Beauties—
Many when wrackt have been by Dolphins born,
And safely landed on the welcome Shore:
And in the Forests, nay, the Monsters Dens,
The Passenger, half starv'd for want of Food,
Has by the Lyons oft been spar'd and fed:
But Cruel Bullen, Cruel Beauty kills
All whom it Fetters, most on whom it Smiles.
Nor can the Elements, nor gentler Brutes,
Teach Woman to be pitiful or good.

Queen.
Now, now just Heav'n! y'are showring all your Plagues
At once upon my Head, and I will bear 'em;
Bear 'em like one of you, and bless the Weight;
Hear my self false upbraided, call'd most perjur'd,
Deceitful, and the Monster of my Sex;
Ev'n I, (who, you Revengeful Powers above
Know,) love this Cruel Chider to a Fault!
Ah Piercy, Piercy—Fly; for life begone;
Each Minute that you stay brings Death to both.

Pier.
Ah, hold! If not for Love, for Pity stay.
And if no just Complaint can pierce your hearing.
Then Blessings shall: Ten thousand Blessings on you,
If you will hear the Curst of Mankind speak.

Roch.
Now, Sister, heard you that! By Heav'n it melts me.
Sure I'm turn'd all the Woman, you the Man.—

Queen.
Give me your hand, kind Brother, and support me;
Help, for I stagger with the treble Weight
Of Grief, Despair, and Pity!
My Senses all are charm'd, and Feet fast ty'd
To this Inchanted Floor—Quick, or I'm lost.

Pier.
Yet turn; if there's one jot of Pity in you;
If Piercy e're was worth one Thought, I charge you,
By the lov'd Name of Anna Bullen, stay—
What then, will nothing move? O inexorable!
No not a Look! not Piercy worth one Look!
Yet, Rochford, hold! Canst thou too be so Cruel!
Fell and obdurate both!
Is there no hope? but will you; will you then
Begone?

Queen.
Fly, Brother, e're it be too late,
For shou'd I listen but a Moment more,
The strength of Hercules were not enough
To draw me hence, so unruly is my Body,
And my unwilling Soul so loth to part.

Pier.
Then with my Knees, thus fastning to the ground
[Piercy kneels upon her Robe.
Your Robe, and thus with my extended Arms
I'le force and charm you, 'till y'have heard my last
Complaint: And then forbear to pity if you can.

Queen.
Why dost thou hold?—Why do I hold my self?

Pier.
Ten thousand Curses light upon her Soul
In Hell; and worse, what mine on Earth endures,
That first taught Woman Falsehood—
If for a Crown she's false! Oh may that Crown
Sit loathsom on her Forehead as her Crimes,
May Adders nest within th'Ambitious Round,
And into Stings the fatal Ermins turn.
When dead, may all the Miseries she feels
Be through the World recorded as a Mark
For faithful Lovers to beware, and ne're
Be nam'd without a Curse.

Queen.
Ah Cruel Piercy!

Pier.
But for my Queen, let Heav'n and Angels guard her;
Her I except from any bitter Fate:
Let Anna Bullen's Breast be ne're disturb'd,
Nor Soul upbraided with the Wrongs of Piercy:
And oh, kind Heav'n! if there be any Sorrow
(As sure none e're can be) ordain'd for her,
False as she is, I beg that it may fall
Only on wretched Piercy's Head—May Hers
Be all the Pleasure still, and mine the Pain.

Queen.
O Gods! obdurate Heav'ns! Cruel Honour!
[Aside.
And yet more Cruel Vertue, hear and see!

Pier.
And when I shall for ever be recluse,
As now I go to part with all Mankind,
'Twill be my Joy, sometimes to think of you,
And make me live, perhaps, one Day the longer,
When in my Melancholy Cell, I hear
That the Crown flourishes on Bullen's Head.

Queen.
Ha! I'm or'ewhelm'd, the Sluces all are broke,
[Aside.
And Pity, like a Torrent, pours me down;
Now I am drowning, all within's a Deluge;
Wisdom nor Strength can stem the Tide no more,
And Nature in my Sex ne're felt the like—
Help Rochford, e're I'm rooted to this Earth.
Away, away! the least word more undoes me.

Pier.
Yet turn one Look upon me, e're you go.

Queen.
There, take it, with my life, perhaps the purchase—
Take that too, Piercy, thou hast been betray'd.
[Gives him a Letter.
Learn there th'unhappy Bullen's Fate—Farewell.

Pier.
Yet stay—the Soul ne're parted with such pangs,
From the pale Body, as you fly from me.

Queen.
Piercy adieu—I can—I will—I must
No more.

[Ex. Qu. and Roch.
Pier.
What, never see you more! She's gone,
She's gone, more lov'd and beautiful than ever:
And now methought, just as she parted from me,
She shot a Look quite through my gory Heart,
And left it Gasping, Dying, and Despairing—
What's here, a Letter! and the Character
That I so oft have been acquainted with?
If these Eternal Kisses give me leave,
I'le break it open with as great a Joy,
As I had leap'd into our Marriage-Bed,
And rifled all the Sweets and Pleasures there—
What's this I read!
Reads.
By Wicked Woolsey, Harry, and our Parents
I was betray'd, and forc'd to Wed the King:
Who intercepted all thy Letters, Swearing
With Sacramental Oaths, that thou wert false,
And Marry'd First—Piercy adieu, and Credit me,
And that I lov'd thee better than my Life.
Burn this rash Paper, lest the Fiends disclose it.

BULLEN.

She's Innocent! Oh! you Immortal Powers!
She's Innocent! And then she loves me still.
Sound, sound my Joy, till my Exalted Soul
Is wound up to th'extreamest pitch of Bliss:
Let Piercy never after this be sad—
Yet hold—What dawn of Comfort can'st thou spy
In this—Oh none—This Gloworm-Spark,
This Glimps of Hope is vanisht, and I'm left
In deeper Darkness, Horrour and Despair,
Than e're I was before—
Oh Anna Bullen! Curst in being true!
And I more Curst in knowing it too late.
Re-enter Queen and Rochford.
Ha! she returns! The mourning Angel comes
Again! Sure Heav'n's in Love with both our Miseries,
They look with such a Pomp and Train in me;
And are so beautiful in her!

Queen.
Well, Brother,
And thou far stronger and Immortal Pity,
And more Immortal Love, y'have brought me back—
Ye have. What! what will you do with me now?

Roch.
Could any thing on Earth! Tyger, or Panther,
Much less a Creature form'd by Heav'n like It:
Could you, I say, refrain at such an Object!
At the last Words of the unhappy Wretch,
And not forbear to balm him o're in Tears,
Or else but hear him speak!

Queen.
Now I'm inclos'd again!
The Combat now grows fierce and strong, and oh!
How weak an Armour Resolution is,
Against our Passions, or the Man belov'd:
Virtue and Honour, hence be proud no more,
Nor brag of your Dominion o're Mankind;
Lest Love, most fatal Love, too soon should tell you,
And make you feel, h'has mightier Chains than you—
See where he is—Look Heav'n with tender Eyes;
Give Council to my just despairing Soul,
And tell me, Pity is no Sin—Ah Piercy!

Pier.
My Charming Queen! my Anna Bullen once!
Am I so Blest, and yet so wretched too,
As what is written here contains; and tell me!
May I believe that you can love me still?

Queen.
Oh Piercy! Piercy! urge me not to tell you
What Heav'ns Austerity will not permit,
Nor force me to declare—
What the Eternal Sees already written
In too broad Characters within my Breast;
How large, how deep thy Story's graven here.
And what I dare not, never must unfold—
Oh! I have said too much.

Pier.
What! said too much!
Can you repent of one kind thought of Piercy?
And spitefully call back your tender Mercy!
Nay, worse; Can you behold the almost Naked,
And starv'd beseeching Wretch, and strive to pull
The totter'd Remnants from his quivering Joints,
And dash the Pitcher from the greedy Lips
Of one just ready to expire with Thirst?
Oh Cruel Queen! For Anna Bullen would not,
She would not, would not use her Piercy thus.

Queen.
Cease, cease such sounds—
And turn thy sad, resistless Eyes away;
For if I once behold those Tears, and hear
Thy just Complaints, I can no longer hold,
But break I must through all the bonds of Virtue.
Nay, stood the Jealous Harry by
With all his Guards of Devils, Woolsey's, Cardinals;
Inspight of all, in spight of more my self
I must both see, hear thee, and speak to thee,
And pity thee. Now are you satisfied?

Pier.
It is enough, bright Daughter of the Sky:
Y'have conquer'd me, my Deity, you have
Here on my Knees, but yet at distance too,
The Posture of a Soul in Extacy,
I beg a thousand Pardons of my Queen.
A Look, a Sigh, or Tear, from Anna Bullen,
Is far more worth than all the trifling Wrongs;
Nay, than the Life and very Soul of Piercy.

Queen.
Help me just Heav'n, who sees how I'm besieged;
And what a weak Resistless Wretch I am!
Why d'ye impose on us so hard a Task
On poor Mankind, so feeble and so frail,
Making us here Comissioners of Virtue,
Yet put by Drams and Scruples in the Ballance,
To Counter-poise and weigh down Flesh and Blood.
How weaks my Will to draw my Body hence;
And oh! how loath my Eyes are to depart,
But with for ever to be fasten'd on thee,
And look one Look to vast Eternity;
Yet we must part, Ah, Piercy! part for ever—

Pier.
Ah say not so! must we so soon, my Queen!
Is then this Moments Bliss so Criminal,
That it must forfeit all my precious Hopes
Of an Assurance once to meet again!

Queen.
My mind now bodes to me, that 'tis our last:
Yet I must bid thee go: There is no Joy for us;
The Worlds a Deluge all to thee and me—
There is no rest, my Piercy, in this World,
No Sanctuary to lay the weary Head
Of the undone, th'unpitty'd, and betray'd.
Farewell: There's somewhat rises o're my Soul,
And covers it as with a fatal Cloud
Of Horror, Death, and Fear. It cannot be;
The Sting of parting cannot do all this;
Farewell, farewell.

Pier.
Stay; must we part for ever?
What never! never meet again!

Queen.
Never till we are Clay, and then perhaps,
Neglected as we were in Life, thrown out in Death,
Some Charitable Man may be so kind,
To give our poor forsaken Bodies Burial,
Laying'em both together in one Bed
Of Earth.—
Hah! the times come! my Fatal Doom's at Hand!
Three Drops of Blood falls from her Nose, and stains her Handkerchief.
Behold, the Heav'ns in Characters of Blood,
In three inevitable Drops,
Have seal'd it, and decreed that it is now!
Ah Piercy! fly, and leave me here alone
To stem this mighty Torrent of my Fate.
Begone, while I have Life to bid thee go:
For now Death stops my Tongue—

[She Swoones.
Pier.
My Lord—
She Faints—My Life! my Anna Bullen stay;
Or your Commands shall Fetter me no more;
But break I will through all the Bars of Distance,
And catch thee thus, thus hold thee in my Armes—
Rochford! Oh help to call her back again.
Hold, stop thy flight; thou precious Air return!
Far richer than that rare Immaculate Breath,
Which Natures God breath'd in the first of Mankind!

Roch.
Wake Sister, wake! behold, no dangers nigh!

Queen.
Ah Piercy! Now I wake, with Courage now
To meet my Fate; and see where it approaches.

Enter Cardinal, Northumberland, and Guards.
Pier.
Ha! Woolsey, and my Father with the Guards!

Card.
My Lord, e're we discover our Commission,
Pray, let your Son be parted from the Queen,
Lest the wrong'd King should see him in his Rage,
And Execute his worst of Fury on him.

North.
Son! tho' you have committed, in the Court,
The greatest Crime, against your Royal Master,
That e're a Subject can be guilty of;
Yet in respect of these Gray Hairs and Tears,
He has been pelas'd to spare your forfeit Life:
Therefore begone: A Minutes stay is fatal—
Guards, force him, if he goes not willingly,
And carry him streight, by Barge, to Suffolk-House
Without Reply.

Pier.
Obediently I'le go,
If you will promise me that you have nought
Against the Sacred Person of the Queen,
And will not touch her: For 'tis greater Sacriledge,
Then 'tis to hurt an Angel, cou'd it be,
She is so Innocent, so Chast, and Pure.
Else I'm resolv'd to stand, no Rock so firm!
Fixt like the Center to the Massey Globe.
You should as soon remove strong Hercules,
With his Hands grasping both the Poles of Heaven,
As force me from this Footing, where I stand,
And see the Queen but threatned, or in danger.

Card.
My Lord, on both our Honours, the Queens Person
Shall be Inviolate and Sacred always;
Nor know we ought against her—but the King
Is coming streight to visit her, as kindly
As he was wont: Therefore you must be gone—
We have no other Reason, but your safety.

Pier.
I fear! for ah what Truth can come from thee?
Thou speak'st but at the Second Hand from Hell—
Kind Sir, May I believe what Woolsey says?

Card.
Confirm it, good my Lord, or you'l delay.

North.
'Tis true, what the great Cardinal has told you.

Queen.
Go, Piercy; and mistrust not more than I;
Begone, if I have Power left to Command;
Leave me to Innocence, and Heav'n that will not
Permit a Soul that never did any ill,
To fear it.

Pier.
Then I'le go—But oh Just Heav'n!
And all you Angels, Cherubins, and Thrones:
All you bright Guards to the most High Imperial,
You kindest, gentlest, mildest Planets,
You lesser Stars, you fair Innumerable,
And all you bright Inhabitants above,
Protect the Sacred Person of the Queen;
And shed your balefull'st Venom on their Heads,
That think to stain a Whiteness like your selves.
Farewell—
[Ex. Piercy.

Queen.
Farewell!

Card.
John Viscount Rochford, by the King's Command,
W'Arrest you here, of Capital, High Treason.

Queen.
Hear Heav'n! my Brother faln into the Snare!

Card.
And 'tis his Pleasure, that you streight be sent
Close Prisoner to the Tower, with the Lord Norris,
Who is suspected with you to be Guilty
Of the same hainous Crime. Guards! Seize his Person.

Roch.
Base Villain! Traytor! Woolsey! Say, for what?

Queen.
No matter. Let a Woman teach thee Courage:
Ne're ask for what, since 'tis his wise Decree
Above who gave us with a liberal Hand,
And sate us on the highest Spoke of Greatness,
No longer than he pleas'd to call us down—
Well, Whose turn's next? Come, dart your worst, my Lords,
And meet a temper'd Breast, that knows to bear.
By my bright Hopes, y'are more afraid than I;
I did expect you would begin with me!

Card.
Most Royal Madam, Oh! I wish the King
Had chosen some less unwilling than our selves,
To Execute this most detested Office.
In Witness of it, on our Knees, with Tears
[Kneels.
And Sorrow, we our sad Commission tell:
It is the Kings most fatal Pleasure too,
That you be sent a Prisoner to the Tower,
And thence, immediately to both your Tryals.

[Rises.
Roch.
Tryal! oh her wrong'd Innocence! for what?

Queen.
No more, Dear Brother; let us both submit,
And give Heav'n Thanks, and our most Gracious King;
For I'm not so presumptuous of my Virtue;
But think, Dear Rochford, that both you and I
Have once committed, in our erring Lives,
Something, for which we justly merrit Death.
Though not, perhaps, the Thing we are accused of.

Enter the King in a Fury, with Letters in his Hand. Attendants and Guards.
Card.
The King is here!

Queen.
Then he is Merciful.

King.
Where is this Woman! this most abhorr'd of Wives!
This Scandal to her Sex, my Crown and Life!
What by your Minion? oh good Natur'd Husband!
Down on your Knees, and thank me for the favour—
See—here are Letters faln into my Hands,
Where your dear Brother says he has enjoy'd you.
[Gives the Letters to the Queen
Oh thou more Damn'd, and more Insatiate far,
Than Messalina. She was Chast, to thee.
Her, half the Men and Slaves of Rome,
Could satisfy; but thou, not all Mankind,
With Husband, Brother, Kindred in the Number.

[She gives 'em Roch.
Queen.
Oh Heav'nly Pow'rs! oh Guard of Innocence!
What do I see and hear! O Sacred Sir!
You took me to your Royal Bed, a Hand-maid,
The most unworthy of the mighty Favour;
Oh throw me into Dungeons streight, or take
Away my Life, that ne're offended you:
Take all, in Recompence, from Anna Bullen!
'Tis yours; But do not Rob me of my Fame,
Nor stain my Virtue with so foul a Guilt.

Roch.
What's here? my Amorous Letters sent to Blunt!
Has she betray'd me!

King.
I will hear no more—

[To the Queen.
Roch.
Ah Royal Sir, these Letters I confess—

King.
Damn thy hot Lustful Breath; thy Poysonous Tongue!
Here, take 'em hence, to Tortures, Racks, to Death.

Queen.
O Sir! I am prepar'd for any Death;
For worse than Death, a thousand, thousand Torments;
And if you think 'em all not pain enough,
Here, take Advice of Woolsey; Hee'l instruct you;
Tell you, how you may plague this hated Body;
But do not think that I'm so loath'd a Creature.

King.
Quick; Take away thy Hands, or I will force thee—

Queen.
You shall not, cannot, till I've Sworn the Truth:
For, by th'unspotted Babe within the Womb,
That yet lies wrapt in Innocence, unborn;
By injur'd Truth, by Souls of Martyr'd Saints,
By you, my Lord, my Husband, and my King!
And by the King of Kings, the King of Heav'n,
I'm wrong'd! Ah Royal, gracious Sir, I'm wrong'd.

King.
Unhand me; or I'le spurn thee from thy hold—
Seize, seize on Piercy—By my Life, who begs
[To the Guards.
In his Behalf's a Traytor, worse than he—
[To North. who kneels.
Here is another Letter too, it is from Norris,
Who much Commends your darling, secret Beauties,
And sweetness of your Lips; Yet you are wrong'd!—
Here's Notes of your Musician too, that Charm'd you.
Eternal Hell! where's such another Monster?
I have more Horns than any Forrest yields,
Than Finsbury, or all the City Musters
Upon a Training, or a Lord Mayors-Day.
Rise! and Begon, thou Fiend, thou Sorceress;
Thy Power, thy Charms, like Witch-craft, all have left thee.
Go you incestuous Twins, make haste and mingle
Your foul, Adulterate Blood in Death together—
Oh, they're too long asunder. Why, dost Weep!
Go to thy Death, and what's a greater pain,
May Heav'n, like me, see all those Tears in vain.

[Ex. King, Attendants.
Roch.
Ah Sister! what dire Fiends must punish Rochford:
What will become of me, the Cause of all?

Queen.
Fear not. Heav'n knows thy Innocence, and mine!
What tho' we suffer here a little shame!
'Tis to reward our Souls above, and with
Immortal Restitution Crown 'em there—
We two liv'd in one Mother's spotless Womb;
And then we scarce had purer Thoughts than now!
And shortly we shall meet together in
One Grave.

Roch.
O say not so: Death dare not be so Cruel.

Queen.
Cease Brother, cease; say not a word in answer;
But lead me, like a Valiant Man, to Chains.
Come, let's prepare—But first my Pomp adieu!
[Kneels, and lays down her Crown.
From Heav'n I did my Crown and Life receive,
And back to Heav'n both Crown and Life I'le give;
And thus, in humble posture, lay it down
With greater Joy than first I put it on.
[Rises.
And now I tread more light, and see from far
A Beamy Crown, each Diamond a Star.
But oh, you Royal Martyrs! cease a while
Your Crying Blood, that else must curse this Isle;
Of the Imperial ask it with my Pray'r;
For you are still the nearest Angels there:
Then Richard, Edwards, Henry, all make room,
The first of slaughter'd English Queens I come;
Let me amongst your glorious, happy Train,
Free from this hated World, and Traitors Reign.

[Ex. Ambo.