University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter Cardinal and Blunt severally.
Card.
Luckiest of Omens! do I meet my Juno!
My Fair, Illustrious Partner in Revenge!
Come, tell the News that your glad Eyes proclaim:
Speak, by thy Looks, I know it must be well.
Is she Condemn'd? Shall Rome be Absolute?
Shall Woolsey Reign, and shall my Blunt be Queen?

Blunt.
'Tis as thou say'st, most mighty of thy Function;
Greatest that e're adorn'd this Robe, it is.
These Eyes saw the bright English Sun Eclips'd,
And what is more, Eclips'd by Thee and Me,
Cast by her aweful Judges from her Height,
Guilty and sham'd, as Lucifer from Heav'n,
And forc'd to beg it, as the mildest Sentence,
To lose her Head.

Card.
Then there's an end of Bullen.

Blunt.
And what to see, gave me the greater Joy;
Those Letters counterfeited by the Fool
Her Brother, were the strongest Proofs against her;
So the same Papers which by your Advice
I got convey'd into her Cabinet,
Were the substantiall'st Circumstances found
For which she dies.

Card.
O Just and Sacred Rage,
Revenge! Thou greatest Deity on Earth!
And Woman's Wit the greatest of thy Council.

Blunt.
We ought to veil before your Priestly Robe;
My Crown of Wit shall ne're stand Candidate
With yours; and yet I dare be bold to say,
This I, and Malice would have done alone,
Without the mighty Aid of Woolsey's Brain.

Card.
Then nothing's to be done by Fate, nor Woolsey,
But take the vanquisht Crown from Bullen's Head,
And place it suddenly on yours.

Blunt.
For which,
My gracious Woolsey, I will so reward you.

Enter to them Piercy.
Pier.
Blackness Eternal cover all the World!
Infernal Darkness, such as Ægypt felt,
When the Great Patriarch curs'd the fatted Land,
And with a Word extinguisht all the light.

Blunt.
See, Piercy's here! more mad than we are joyful:
Does't not make young the Blood about thy heart,
T'see that our Revenge not singly hits,
But, like a Chain-shot carries all before it?

Card.
Let us avoid him—you intend to see
The Queen receive her Death: But I, to hide
The Pleasure that perhaps the sight would give me,
Will pass this Day at Esher, like a Mourner.

Pier.
Behold, the Sun shines still; instead of Darkness,
Yon Azure Blue's unspeckled with a Cloud;
The Face of Heav'n smiles on her as a Bride,
The Day, the Sun sits mounted on his Chariot,
And darts his spightful Beams in scorn of Pity;
'Bates not a jot of the Illustrious Pomp,
He should have furnish'd on her Wedding-Day:
Heav'n looks like Heav'n still, Nature as 'twas,
Men, Beasts, and Devils; every thing that lives,
Conspires, as pleas'd at Anna Bullen's Fall.
Behold, just Powers! the Curses of the Land!
Stay you Amphibious Monsters, Priest, and Devil!
[To the Card. and Blunt.
And Strumpet, if it can be, worse than both!
You far more dreadful Pair than those that first
Betray'd poor easie Man; and all Mankind:
Thou fatal Woman Thou! and Serpent Thou!
By whose sole Malice (oh that Heav'n should let it!)
A greater Innocence this Day is fallen,
Than ever blest the Walks of Paradise.

Card.
My Lord, I shall acquaint the King with this,
And those just Lords the Judges of her Cause,
Whom your base Malice wrongs—But I'm above it—
Farewell.

[Ex. Card. and Blunt.
Pier.
Bold Traytors! Hell-hounds! hear me first;
Stay you infectious Dragons; do you flye!
Does Anna Bullen's Chastity and Virtue,
Writ in this Angry Fore-head, make you start—
[Exeunt.
Enter Diana to him.
What, the fair, wrong'd Diana's Face in Tears!
Can Anna Bullen's Miseries Attract
The noblest of Compassion, Pity from
A Rivals Breast! thou Wonder of thy Sex!
How far more Wretched mak'st thou Piercy still,
When I behold how much thou dost deserve,
And I, so very little have to pay!

Dian.
What Rocky-heart could have refrain'd from Pity,
To see the Sight that I did! any thing,
But Man, most Cruel Mankind, would have griev'd;
Tygers and Panthers would have wept to see her;
And her base Judges, had they not been Men,
Would have bemoan'd her like departing Babes.

Pier.
Is Rochford too Condemn'd?

Dian.
Alas! he is.
Rochford and Norris both, receiv'd their Sentence,
And both behav'd themselves like Gallant Men—
But for the Queen! Ah Piercy, such bright Courage,
No thought can Dictate, nor no Tongue Relate,
When she was tax'd with that unnatural Crime,
Adultery with her Brother; ('Tis a Sin
That e're it should be nam'd.) At first she started,
And soon an Innocent, not Guilty, Red
Adorn'd her Face, and Sainted it with Tears;
But streight conceiving it a Fault, she Smil'd,
Wip'd off the Drops, and chid the Blush away.

Pier.
When I am Dead, may my sad Tale be blest,
And have no other Tongue, but thine, to tell it.

Dian.
Then with the meekness of a Saint she stood;
With such amazing Oratory dazled,
And like the Sun, darted quite through her Judges,
And sham'd their Guilt, that none durst look upon her:
But oh! what's destin'd in the blackest Pit
Of Hell; what Innocence can n'ere withstand.
What e're she said, that Angels cou'd not finer,
And shew'd a Soul, no Crystal nigh so clear;
Tho'all appear'd to be the Plot of Devils;
Yet was she guilty found, and, oh, sad Piercy!
(May all Eyes weep at it, like thine and mine)
Condemn'd to lose her Head.

Pier.
Hell dare not think it.

Dian.
The Cruel Duke of Norfolk, her Relation,
As Steward for the Day, pronounc'd the Sentence.

Pier.
And my hard hearted Father too was there.

Dia.
My Lord! What said you? your hard hearted Father?
Oh blotted let it be from all Records,
And never be in Englands Annals read,
What I'm about to tell you. Her own Father,
The Earl of Wiltshire, sate amongst her Judges.

Pier.
O Monster damn'd! than Cruel Titan worse,
That eat up his own Issue as he got e'm.

Dia.
Behold, the King! All Knees, are bent, all Hands,
All good mens Eyes lift up to Heav'n and him,
To beg the Life of Her that glads the World.

Pier.
Make use of all thy Womans art to win him;
Let all Petition him that share her Blood,
Matrons, Wives, Virgins, all the charming Sex.

Dia.
Do you withdraw. You but incense the King—
Iv'e yet a soft Experiment to try,
Shall pierce his stubborn Nature to the Quick.

Pier.
That Angel, th'art inspir'd with prosper thee.

[Exeunt.
Enter King and Attendants.
King.
Piercy! did I not charge he should be seiz'd?
[To the Guards who go out to seize Piercy.
Now by the sacred Crown of Englands Monarchs,
Let none entreat me upon pain of Death?
[To Petitioners.
What's here? a List of base Petitioners,
For Norris Life! Hell and Confusion seize 'em
Have I not like a Rock against the Seas,
And Mountain 'gainst the Winds stood thus unshaken,
Deny'd all Englands Prayers, and Tears of Angels?
Nay more, this heart, that pleads with mortal pangs
For my dear Anna Bullen's life? And shall I
Pardon a Slave before I would my Queen?

Enter Northumberland, who kneels.
King.
Why dost kneel?

North.
I met my Son this most unlucky moment,
Just as the Guards were ready to obey,
And Execute your fatal orders on him,
Who in despair, or rather in obedience,
Making a faint resemblance to resist;
As they were striving to put by his Sword,
He on a sudden open'd wide his Arms,
And on his Breast received a wilful wound.
I kneel with humble Prayer's, that his Disaster
would mitigate your present and just Fury,
And grant my Son his freedom, till his hurt
Is cur'd, which is not mortal.

King.
Be it so.

Enter Diana, leading in the Young Princess Elizabeth, with Women.
Dian.
Pardon this bold Intrusion in your Presence.
Your Daughter Sir, this little Princess here,
Possest with Womans Rage, and far above
The little sparkling Reason of a Child,
Scream'd for her Father; Where's my Father, said she;
And as we brought her to you, still the cry'd,
Unless she saw her Father, she wou'd die.

King.
What wouldst thou have, my little Betty, say?

Child.
But will you promise me that you'l not frown,
And cry aloud, Hough? and then indeed I'le tell you.

King.
I do. Come, Let me take thee in my Arms—

Child.
No: but I'le kneel: for I must be a Beggar,
And I have learn't, that all who beg of you,
Must do it kneeling.

North.
Prettiest Innocence!

King.
well then, what is't my little Pratler, say?

Child.
I'm told that streight my Mother is to die,
Yet I have heard you say, you lov'd her dearly:
And will you let her die, and me die too?

King.
She must die, Child; There is no harm in death;
Besides the Law has said it, and She must.

Child.
Must! is the Law a greater King than you?

King.
O yes. But do not cry my pretty Betty:
For she'l be happier when she's dead, and go
To Heaven.

Child.
Nay, I'm sure shee'l go to Heav'n.

King.
How art thou sure?

Child.
Somebody told me so
Last night when I was in my sleep.

King.
Who was it?

Child.
A fine Old man, like my Godfather Cranmer.

Card.
Ay! there's the Egg that hatcht this Cockatrice.

Child.
Pray Father, what's that huge, tall, Bloody man?
I n'ere saw him but once in all my life,
And then he frighted me. He looks for all
The World, just like the Picture of the Pope.

King.
Why, don't you love the Pope?

Child.
No indeed don't I,
Nor never will.

King.
Ay, but you must my Dear;
He is a fine old man too, if you saw him.

Card.
Go y'are a little Heretick.

Child.
A Heretick!
Pray Father, what does that bold Fellow call me?
What's that?

King.
Why, that's One that forsakes the right,
And turns to a new, wrong Religion.

Child.
Then I'm no Heretick: For I ne're turn'd
In all my life. But you forget your Child.
Dear Father, will you save my Mother's life?

King.
You must not call me Father: For they say,
Y'are not my Daughter.

Child.
Who's am I then?
Who told you so? That ugly old, bald Priest?
He tells untruth. I'm sure you are my Father?

King.
How art?

Child.
Cause I love none so well as you—
But oh you'l never hear me what I have to say,
As long as He, that Devil there, stands by
Your Elbow.

King.
Ha! what Devil?

Child.
That Red Thing there.

King.
Oh Child; He is no Devil, he's a Cardinal.

Child.
Why does he wear that huge, long Coat then?
Unless it be to hide his Cloven Feet.

Card.
Sir, all's design'd by Cranmer for the Queen,
Of whom Sh'as learnt this Lesson like a Parot.

King.
Take her away. I were a Fool indeed,
It Womens Tears, and Childrens idle Prattle,
Should change my fixt Resolves, and cheat my Justice—
Away with her.

Child.
Oh, but they dare not:
Father, will you not let your Betty kiss you?
Why do you let 'em pull me from you so?
I ne're did anger you:
Pray save my Mother, Dear King-Father do;
And if you hate her, we will promise both,
That she and I will go a great, huge way,
And never see you more.

King.
Unloose her; hough!
Hence with her straight: I will not hear her prate
Another word. Go, y'are a naughty Girl.

Child.
Well, I'm resolv'd when I am grown a Woman,
I'le be reveng'd, and cry, Hough, too.

[Ex. Diana, Princess, Women.
King.
Ha! Spirit!
Mount all the Draw-Bridges, and guard the Gates,
Then bring the Prisoners forth to Execution:
Norris, and Rochford first, and then the Queen:
My Lord Northumberland, be it your Task;
Dispatch my Orders straight, and fetch the Traytors—
What's this that gives my Soul a sudden Twitch?
And bids me not proceed. Ha! is't Compassion!
Shall Pity ever fond the Breast of Harry!
'Tis but a slip of Nature, and Ile on.
Think on thy Wrongs; the Wrongs her Lust has done thee,
And sweep away this loath'd Incestuous, Brood,
As Heav'n would drive a Plague from off the Land:
Think thou shalt have thy Seymor in thy Arms,
Who shall restore thy loss with double Charms:
And tho' my Bullen sets this Night, and dies,
Seymor, next Morn, like a new Sun shall rise.

[Ex. King, Attendants.
North.
With an unwilling Heart, I take this Office.
And Heav'n, if Anna Bullen's Innocent,
Forgive me, since it is my King's Command.
My Breast is sad, and tender for her, all;
Tho' Piercy ne're can rise, but by her Fall—

Enter to him Rochford, Lieutenant, and Guards.
Roch.
Wil't not be granted, that I here may see
My Sister e're I dye, to part with her?

Lieut.
There is my Lord Northumberland, he'l tell you.

Roch.
My Lord, y'are come to see a wretched Pair
Of Ormonds Issue leave this fatal World.
Shall we not meet, and take our last Farewell?

North.
Norris, my Lord, is now upon the Scaffold.
Then your turn follows; but before that time,
I guess the Queen will be prepar'd, and come.

Roch.
Forgive me, Heav'n, my Passion, and my Crime,
For Natures choice of a wrong, fatal Object,
Loving too well, what in effect was ill.
O all you strict Idolaters of Beauty!
You fond, severe Adorers of that Sex,
Who think that all their Vices cannot Center
In one vile Womans Breast; see, and repent!
Behold 'em all together
In the Infernal Blunt, in Her they're fix'd.
Thus have they all been Curst, and thus they all
Have been betray'd, that lov'd so well as I.

Enter Queen going to Execution all in White: Diana, Women in Mourning; Guards.
Queen.
Come, where are those must lead me to my Fate?
To a more Glorious, Happy Marriage-Bed,
And my Eternal Coronation Day—
What, Piercy's Father! must he do the Office?
Still I can bear it all, and bear it bravely.

North.
Madam! it is the Kings severe Command,
That I attend your Majesty to th'Scaffold.

Queen.
Enough, my Lord, you might have spar'd that Title:
Alas! I wish it ever had been spar'd—
I should have been, if Malice had not reign'd,
Your Piercy's Wife, the Scope of my Ambition:
I ne're had then been mounted to a Throne;
Then this unhappy hour had never been.

Roch.
Mind this you Rocky World, and mourn in Chaos.
Such Words as these the Heav'ns must weep to hear,
And make yon Marble Roof dissolve in Tears.

Queen.
What! do you Weep? to see your Mistress Glory!
That she shall streight wipe off the Stain on Earth
She bears, with an unspotted Fame in Heav'n?
I charge you, by my hopes, and by your hopes,
When you are going where I soon shall go;
By the Illustrious Pomp I long to meet,
The Sacred, Just Rewards of injur'd Truth;
Acquaint this Noble Lord, and all here present,
If e're you saw in all my Nights, or Days,
Or in my looser Hours of Mirth or Humour,
The smallest sign of that most horrid Guilt
That I'm condemn'd for?—Why, are you all dumb?
If you are loth to tell it whilst I live,
Proclaim it when I'm dead, to all the World,
That Heav'n may bar the Gates of Bliss against me,
And throw me to the blackest of Hells Dungeons,
Where all Dissemblers at their Death shall howl.

Wom.
Alas! most Gracious Mistress, none can wish
Themselves more Innocent for Death than you.

Queen.
What dost thou weep, unhappy Brother too!
Oh shew me not suspected, nor thy self
So Guilty, by such softness—Learn of me!
This Breast that's petrify'd by constant Woes!
By all my Wrongs, in Injustice, and my Cause,
Who sees me weep, they shall be tears of Joy.
Who grieves to leave the World, shall never come
Where I am going, where all sorrow's banish'd.

Roch.
Tho' I am innocent, my Fate is not;
'Tis that has been unjust to thee and me.

Queen.
Tho' 'tis a Common, 'tis a fatal sign,
We weep when we are born: but it was
More ominous, and much more fatal prov'd,
From these prophetick Eyes there gusht a shower,
When Harry gave his Faithless hand to me;
And on my Coronation day the like,
My bodeing Heart another Tribute rack'd,
Methought there sate a Mountain on my Head,
The Curses of wrong'd Katherine weigh'd me down;
And made my Crown indeed a Massey Crown.

Roch.
Deny me not a little tender Grief,
For every drop of Blood that's to be shed,
Of that inestimable Mass of thine,
My Soul must rack a thousand years in Hell.

Queen.
Forbear such words—You have not injur'd me!
I might as well tax Providence, as you:
For Heav'n, that heard the Perjury of Villains,
Might, if it pleas'd, have chok'd 'em with its Thunder,
Or sent 'em with a Lightning blast to Hell!
But he has bent their Rage another way,
[One whispers North.
And on their Malice we shall safely mount,
As on a Cherubin to Heav'n.

North.
My Lord,
You must prepare; a Messenger is come,
Who brings the News that Norris is beheaded.

Queen.
Alas! unhappy Norris! art thou dead?
Yet why do I so much wrong to pity thee?
Thou'rt happier by some moments now than I.

Roch.
Come! lead me to my rest, my rest from wrongs.
Now, Anna Bullen, teach me all thy Courage;
Thy Innocence, that makes the Heav'ns amaz'd:
And the more guilty Angels blush to see.
Help me to pass this Rubicon of Parting,
This mid-way Gulph that hangs 'twixt Earth and Sky!
Then that blest Region, all beyond is mine,
And Cæsar was not half so great as I.

Queen.
Go! be a lucky Harbinger for me;
Tell all the Saints, and Cherubins, and Martyrs,
Tell all the Wrong'd, that now are righted there,
Till it shall reach the high, Imperial Ear,
That Anna Bullen is a coming streight.

Roch.
Wilt not embrace thy dying Brother first?
One Father and one Mother gave us Birth;
And one Chast, Innocent Natures Bed inclos'd us—
These are our Parents Arms, and so are thine.
Then all you Saints above, and Men below,
Bear Witness, and I vow it on my Death,
It is the greatest, first, and only favour
I e're receiv'd from Anna Bullen's Person.

Queen.
In spite of Scandal, Malice, and the World;
Nay, were the King and our vile Judges by,
Since Heav'n is satisfy'd it is no Sin;
I will embrace thee, think I've in my Arms,
Both Father, Mother, Sister, Brother, all;
And Envy cannot blame me now for this.

Roch.
Thus, let thy Soul into my Bosom sly;
That I may feel the stroke of Death for thee;
And when the fatal Ax hangs o're thy Head,
O may it lull Thee, and not strike thee dead;
Softer than Infants Dreams, or with less pain,
Than 'tis to sleep, or to be born again—

[Ex. Roch. to Execution.
Queen.
So, this is past and vanquisht! but behold
A greater yet—Now I begin to dread—
Enter Diana, with the young Princess, and Women.
Ah kind Diana, wonderful and good!
The pity that thou shew'st thy dying Friend,
This little one, I hope, will live to pay.

Dian.
Ah Royal Mistress! England's falling Star!
Best Pattern that e're Earth receiv'd from Heav'n—
I need not fear these Eyes should see you dye.
For e're that time, just grief shall strike me dead;
Or Torrents of these Tears will make me blind.

Queen.
Come, lift her to my Arms, and let me kiss her,
For 'tis the last kind Office you will do me.
Now let me press thy little Coral-Lips
With my dead pale ones now! and oh let me
Infuse some of thy Mothers latest Breath,
In Blessings on thy tender, blooming Soul—
What's this that tempts me with a Mothers Fondness!
To break my Resolution, and upbraids me,
That I must leave thee to a Father's Rage,
And yet more cruel Enemies to both?
Leave thee a Lamb, 'mongst Wolves; for all who've been
Thy Mothers Foes will certainly be thine.

Dian.
Tygers, nor Devils! or what's more inhumane;
Envy of Mankind cannot be so Curst.

Queen.
See, see Diana! by my Wrongs it weeps,
Weeps like a thing of Sense, and not a Child;
Like one well understood in Grief; the Tears
Drop sensibly in order down its Cheeks;
And drowns its pretty Speech in thoughtful Sorrow.
Nothing could shoot Infection through my Breast,
But this; and this has done it—
Why weeps my Child? Ah, what a Question's that!

Dian.
Behold! how't strives; and betwixt Tears and Throbs,
If it could form a Language, it would speak.

Queen.
Strive not for Words, my Child; these little drops
Are far more Eloquent than Speech can be—
Be pitiful, my Lord; and thou, my kind
Diana, ever faithful to thy Queen;
When I am dead, as shortly I shall be,
Take this poor Babe, and carry't to the King;
Its Lips just pregnant with its Mother's Fondness,
Perhaps he'l take her then into his Arms;
And tho' the favour were to me deny'd;
Steal there a Kiss of mine.
Say, 'tis the last Request of Anna Bullen—

North.
Remove the little Princess
To her Apartment, where we streight will come.
And wait on her, as is the Queen's Command.

Queen.
Yet let me hold her but a moment longer,
And with this Kiss, that now must be my last,
Unlock a Secret, which Heav'n dictates to me.
If e're there is a Light that does transcend
Dark, humane Knowledge in the Breast of Man,
Fate to foresee, there is a Light at Death,
And that now bids me speak. Thou, little Child,
Shalt live to see thy Mother's Wrongs o're paid
In many blessings on thy Womans State.
From this dark Calumny, in which I set,
As in a Cloud; thou, like a Star, shalt rise,
And awe the Southern World: That holy Tyrant,
Who binds all Europe with the Yoak of Conscience,
Holding his Feet upon the Necks of Kings;
Thou shalt destroy, and quite unloose his Bonds,
And lay the Monster trembling at thy Feet.
When this shall come to pass, the World shall see
Thy Mothers Innocence reviv'd in thee.

[Ex. Women with the Princess Eliz.
North.
Madam! with greater pain to me than Racks,
I'm forc'd to let you know your Brother's dead:
And that, alas! you must prepare.

Queen.
My Lord!
I thank you, you mistake your noble Office;
It is the Voice of Angels to wrong'd Martyrs;
The sound of Cherubs trumpetting from Heav'n—
I've heard it said, amongst our many Ends,
Beheading is the mildest Death of any.
If it be so; I thank my Gracious Lord:
For I was never us'd to pain—How say you?

North.
We cannot wish you less, since y'are to dye.
And if the Heads-man do as he's commanded,
'Twill be no more, than 'tis to drop asleep.

Queen.
My Lord, I've but a little Neck;
Therefore I hope he'l not repeat his Blow;
But do it, like an Artist, at one stroke.

North.
There is no fear. He has particular Order.

Queen.
Then let me go; Heav'n chides my fond delay—
But tell the King, I say it as I just
Am going to dye; I both forgive, and bless him,
And thank him as my kindest Benefactor—
First from an humble Maid he lifted me
To Honour; then he took me to his Bed,
The highest State that I could be on Earth;
And now, as if he thought he ne're could do
Enough for me, has mounted me to Heav'n—

North.
Mr. Lieutenant on, and lead the way.

Queen.
If 'tis no Sin to skip one moment now
Of what belongs to Heav'n; let me remember
Poor Piercy once—Here, take this Innocent Kiss,
A Token to you both—'Tis thine and his—
Farewel! Diana. Farewell to you all.

Dian.
A long farewell to all our Sexes Glory.

Queen.
Weep not for me; but hear my dying Sentence.
Any that shall hereafter fall like me.
Falsly accus'd by wicked Men and Traytors;
Tho' in this World y'are great, in Virtue strong;
Never Blaspheme, and say that Heav'n does wrong;
Nor think an undeserved Death is hard;
For Innocence is still its own Reward.
And when th'Almighty makes a Saint, sometimes
He acts by Contraries, and Villains Crimes,
Whilst thus, their Malice always cheated is,
And leads us but the nearest way to Bliss.

[Exit Queen to Execution, with Northumberland and Guards.
Enter Piercy alone.
Pier.
I dread the horrid deed is done, or now
A doing, else what means this sudden Gloom
Clad o're the Morning Sky, and all Mankind:
All pass with Horror by, with frighted Looks and Voice
Lift up to Heav'n, who sees and hears in vain;
Then shake their melancholly heads like Time:
A general Consternation seizes all,
As if the Universal Empress of the World,
Nature it self, were fled with Anna Bullen—
Enter a Gentleman with a Hanckerchief stain'd with the Queens Blood.
Hast thou beheld this great Eclipse of Virtue?
Speak, is the Queen Beheaded? Hast thou done
As I commanded?

Gent.
Sir, when the fatal blow I saw perform'd,
Swift as a Whirlewind, through the Crowd I rush't,
And, as the Blood from their rich Vessels drain'd,
This Linnen with the Sacred Crimson stain'd.

Pier.
Giv't me! and leave me to my self a moment.
Now Sacred Drops, now Heavenly Nectar, first
I'le kiss, then pledge you with a Dying Thirst—
What's this! I feel my Soul beat at my Wound,
And bid me to remember now's the time;
Now to let out Life's Navigable Stream,
And mix it with this most Celestial Flood,
Thus, as kind Rivers to their Ocean run.
First I'le descend by just degrees to Earth,
Thus on my Knees, and wing my Soul to Heaven,
[Kneels.
Where Anna Bullen waits her Piercy's coming;
And with this Bloody Sign the Pow'rs implore,
Like a poor Wretch, Ship-wrackt on some Lone-shoar,
Who spies a Sail far off, waves 'em his Hand
To come, and waft him from the Barren Land.
Enter Diana.
Behold the good Diana—By those Tears,
Something of horror 'tis thou hast to say.

Dian.
Alas! my Lord, what have you done?
Your Wound does bleed afresh!
Your Looks are alter'd! all those Masculine Beauties,
That shone in your Illustrious Face, and made
The noblest brave Epitomy of Mankind,
Are vanisht on a sudden, and you hang
Like a pale Carcass on my trembling Arms—
Hah! let me run and call for help—I'le fetch
Your Father, fetch the King. Quick, let me go—

Pier.
O Bear me to some horrid Desart rather,
Where naught but Tygers, Wolves, and Panthers breed,
They are more merciful than King or Parent.
I feel, like the wrong'd Patriarch, a desire
To do some fatal Mischief with my End.
Stand by me; and Correct me with thy Virtue,
Else I shall lose the Duty of a Son,
And Subject; do a rashness to be fam'd for,
Pull down a Show'r of Curses on the Heads
Of this Philistim-King, and Cruel Father.

Dian.
Still, still your looks grow Paler, and your strength
Decays! Oh let me call some help. Who's there?

Pier.
Grief, like a subtile Limbeck, by degrees,
With still Diffusion quite dissolves my heart,
And steals by drops my Blood and Spirits away.
But first Diana, I'le be just to thee—
I doubt if I have strength to rise again—
[She raises him upon his Knees.
My Father made me Vow to be your Husband;
If I here die—I kneel that you'd forgive me;
But if I live, I'le keep my Promise to you.

Dian.
You Faint, you Sink, you Die; some Creature help—

Pier.
Go, strive to Lave the Water of the Sea,
And Quench the burning Ætna, 'tis in vain,
And so are Esculapius Remedies to me—
Look, see'st thou this, as long as I have this,
[Shews the Handkerchief.
This here, to waft me o're Deaths dreadful Main,
I need no Sword, no Poison, nor no Pain.

Dian.
What's that I see? Your Blood? Your vital Blood!

Pier.
Yes! Of a Heart far Dearer than my own.
Now, now my Blood, my Crowd of Spirits, all
Rush to behold, and with their Standard fall.

Dian.
Why stand I here, like Marble made of Woe,
And run not for the Cure of both our Lives?
For shou'd I stay, I shall betray my Love
In dying with him.
[Exit Diana Running.

Pier.
Thus when the Generous Lyon sees the Blood
Of his once Royal Master shed like this;
Taking the Lawn, stain'd with Imperial Gore,
At first he Frowns, and then begins to Roar.
Lashes his Sides; his Fiery Eye-balls rolls,
and with his awful Voice Revenge he calls;
Till finding no Relief, at length He's mute,
And Weeps, Tears falling from the Kingly Bruite;
Then gently on it, as his Death-bed lies,
And with a Groan, breaks his stout Heart, and Dies.

[Dies.
Enter Northumberland, and Gentlemen.
Gentl.
He's dead! Alas, He's dead! W'are come too late!

North.
Here let me fix till my Gray-Hairs shall rot,
Or turn to Snakes, to Plague this Aged Head;
And never more be lookt on to upbraid me!
This is a Punishment for what my Eyes
Unpitying saw; and now I feel, dear Piercy,
Thy Father's Curses on his own Head turn,
And thou art blest, and I alas, forlorn.

Enter King, Lords, Attendants, and Guards.
King.
Whom mourn'st thou over? Whose dead Bodys that?

North.
'Tis Piercy's: You and all good Men shou'd weep,
For you have lost a faithful Queen, and I a Son.

King.
Thy Tongue's too bold! Are all the Traitors dead?

North.
Norris, and Rochford, and th'unhappy Queen,
Were all Beheaded in one Fatal Hour;
Yet all the Traitors are not dead.

King.
What mean'st thou?
Say! Who has scap'd?

North.
The Haughty Blunt, deckt with
Her proudest Ornaments of Gold and Jewels,
Came to behold their Ends upon the Scaffold,
And saw 'em with a Hellish Cruelty;
Till Anna Bullen's Head lopp'd from her Body;
The brightest Ornament of that Person fell
Upon that wretched Womans Knees, as She
Was sitting to behold the Dismal sight:
The Trunkless Head with darting Eyes beheld her,
Making a motion with its Lips to speak,
As if they meant t'upbraid her Cursed Treason.
When streight the dreadful Accident so struck her,
Swift as a Hind she gave a leap, and with
A sudden shriek, she started into Madness,
So sierce, that just and speedy Death must follow;
Then uttering strange, and horrid Guilty Speeches,
In her distraction she accus'd her self,
And Woolsey: Talkt the Queen was Innocent;
Saying, the Letters found within her Closet
Were false, and plac'd by them to ruine Her:
For which her Cruel Ghost, she said, did haunt her.

King.
Where is the Traitor Woolsey?

North.
Fled to Esher.

King.
Go you in Person, and secure the Villain!
Many foul Causes claim his forfeit Life;
But if I find him Guilty in the least,
Of a Contrivance with this Cursed Woman;
(Though the Queen justly merited her End)
I'le Rack his Soul out with a thousand Tortures.

North.
'Twill be some joy to my Revenge and Piercy's.

King.
For thy Sons Death, thy King shall be a Mourner—
Now Heav'n vouchsafe to Pardon till this time,
What I by Sycophants Advice have done,
I will be Absolute, and Reign alone:
For where's a Statesman fam'd for just and wise;
But makes our Failings, still, his aim to Rise?
If Subjects thus their Monarchs Wills restrain;
'Tis they are Kings; for them we idly Reign:
Then I'le first break the Yoak; this Maxim still
shall be my Guide (A Prince can do no Ill!)
In spite of Slaves, his Genius let him trust;
For Heav'n n'ere made a King, but made him just.

[Exeunt omnes.