University of Virginia Library

ACTUS TERTIUS.

SCEN. I.

Enter King, Princess, Ld Strange, Guards, and Attendants.
Ld Strange.
apart.]
The Tyrant now will our poor Princess bait
With Kindness far more Cruel, then his Hate.

King.
Madam, be pleas'd to let your Guards withdraw.

Prin.
My Guards? And must their Pris'ner give them Law?

King.
Madam, your are their Queen. Both these and I,
And with us all the Nation prostrate lye,
Begging the Honour of your Government.

Prin.
What you in pleasant Rallery present,
Your serious Conscience knows, is all my Due;
This with the rest I must endure from you:
And to the will of Heaven I can resign
What you have ravish'd both from me, and mine:
But though you tye my Person, as your Slave,
Yet let my Thoughts the common Freedom have;
The Thoughts of Pris'ners cannot be confin'd:
No fetter'd Slave can love against his mind.

King.
Though I confess, that for the Publick Good
And safety of the Realm I have drawn blood
(Heaven knows!) against my will, yet, Madam, you
Are grown the greater Tyrant of us two.
The Realm's inflam'd, and wounded; you may quench
This Inflamation, and the Bleeding stench.
Though I am much unworthy of your Love,
Yet England's Safety should your Pity move.
Madam, your love vouchsaf'd to me ha's Charms,
Which can dissolve all Enmities, and Arms:
All our Divisions close; the War is done,
When Right, and Power consent to joyn in one.

Prin.
Sir, could your cruel Rhet'rick rudely chuse
No Subject, but Compassion to abuse?
Is Pity that, which you pretend to teach?
O Sir! that you had practis'd what you preach!
Then had you not the Royal Plants cut down,
To clear your Passage to the sacred Crown.
The Blood you spilt, provokes Heaven's striking Flame,
Whose long Forbearance takes but surer aim.

King.
Madam, I need not fear a Punishment
Out of the Clouds: Heaven spares the Innocent:
The Thunder, which I dread, does only lye
In your contracted Brow, or angry Eye.
Repeal that Censure, which misjudging Grief
Lays on the Guiltless, and gives small Relief
To your great Losses, making those my Crimes,
Which were effects of the distracted times.
I mourn'd as much, as you, the hasty Fate
Of that lamented Pair, whose lives short Date
I rather would have lengthen'd with my own,
To be their Subject, then to wear their Crown.

Prin.
You robb'd me of my Blood, and Regal Due;
Would you deprive me of my Senses too?
My Reason is reverst! with me, alas!
Richard the third for a mild Prince must passe!

King.
Did you believe me Cruel at that rate,
Which you pretend, you would not tempt your Fate
By Provocations able to engage
Patience it self into a bloody Rage.
But, Madam, you are safe; I shall endure
All your Distempers, and attend their Cure:
Your Int'rest must at last your Passion sway.

Prin.
My Int'rest shall my Honour still obey;
Which abhors him, who does usurp my Crown

King.
Madam, by Title justly 'tis your own:
Take it, and wear it. When I put it on,
I sav'd the Crown for you, you for the Crown.

Prin.
I fear, your words contain lesse Truth, then Art;
For seldom ha's your Tongue exprest your Heart.

King.
My Tongue speaks truth: I only beg the grace
To be your Subject in the foremost place;
That is, your Husband.

Princess.
I expected this,
In these fair Flowers to hear the Serpent hiss.

King.
When common Persons marry, Passion may
Direct their Choice, whilst Fancy bears the sway;
But with great Princes the wise Rules of State
Must be as binding, as the Laws of Fate:
Their Inclinations by those Rules must move;
The Publick Good's the center of their Love.

Prin.
For Publick Good, what you usurp, resign:
Make me not yours by Force, but give me Mine.

King.
You say too much: I see, you'l rather prove
The Subject of my Justice, then my Love.
Th'Invader Richmond is your lov'd Gallant,
Whose Treason does not your allowance want.
Prepare for marriage, or a Funeral;
To be my Wife, or not to be at all.
Madam, you shall be crown'd; Chuse and be wise;
Either for Empire, or for Sacrifice.

Prin.
Spoke like your self: I knew, the mask of Lover
Would soon drop off, which did the Tyrant cover.
[Exit Prin.

King.
Through Rocks of Opposition this alone
[Pointing to his sword]
Ha's hew'd my Passage to the craggy Throne.
These hands (the sharpest scythe of time) mow'd down
All, that grew up between me, and the Crown.
I did my Greatness to a Height advance
Above the Stormy Region of wild Chance:
And shall frail Woman, Natures slightest thing,
Out-brave the Power of Death, and such a King?
I am but able to destroy, and kill;
She can do more, for she enjoys her Will.
Contempt of Life does all Power overthrow;
'Tis Fear, makes Gods above, and Kings below.

[Enter the Queen.

SCENA II.

Queen.
Can it be true, Sir, that your Fatal breath
Has cruelly pronounc'd my Daughters Death?
Can you so suddenly degenerate
From Love's soft Passion to a mortal Hate?

King.
Madam, more, then my Life, I still love Her;
But I the Kingdom's weal to both prefer.
Complain not of the Hardship you endure,
Since your own hands contain a present Cure.

Queen.
When Love his message to a Virgin brings,
Slow Patience lends him Feet, and clips his Wings.

King.
With Patience, like Love's Martyr, I have born
Not only her Denials, but her Scorn:
It is not Modesty, which makes her Cold;
Her Heart instead of Love does malice hold:
A guilty Passion she does clearly show
To him, who is her King's, and Country's Foe.

Queen.
If she stood so inclin'd, how can you doubt,
But that a Mother's Eye would find it out?

King.
Whether that ignorance, which now you show,
Be Real, or Affected, you best know:
To me her words, and Actions both declare
Which way her Inclinations byass'd are.
The Traytour Richmond holds so large a Part
Within her Bosom, as excludes my Heart:
But in few hours I will Possession get,
And drive him thence, or else destroy the Seat.

Queen.
O Sir! pass not a Judgment so severe,
Till the suggested Crime does more appear.
If she refuse the Courtship of a Crown,
She cannot stoop a meaner Flame to owne;
And quit the Glory of a Queen, to live
The obscure Wife of a poor Fugitive.

King.
But this starv'd Snake warm'd by her special Grace
Invades the Land, and rises in my Face.
Madam, your Daughter's Choice will quickly show,
Whether his Crimes belong to her, and you.
To morrow's Sun shall light her to my Throne,
Or on her Treason see due Justice done.

Queen.
Be not so hasty to pronounce her Fate;
Can her not loving be a Crime of State?

King.
Madam, we lose but time, whilst you apply
To the improper place your Remedy:
For the malignant part of this Disease
Lyes only in your Daughter's Stubborness:
Cure that, and she no longer will be seen
Her King's just Pris'ner, but the Nation's Queen.
[Exit King.

Queen.
Which shall I call the Cruel, or the Mild,
This bloody Tyrant, or my Stubborn Child?
Both are alike resolv'd, and act their Part
To break, and tear a tender Mothers Heart.
She no Concern for Life does seem to owne,
But Death accepts more gladly, then the Crown.
I find the Charm, which does this Spirit raise;
Richmond, as Sovereign in her Bosom sways.

[Enter Sir Will. Stanly.

SCEN. III.

Queen, Sir William Stanly.
Sir W. Stanly.
Madam, I come my Destiny to learn,
Which wholly now depends on your Concern.
The Danger of the Princess draws too near;
The Tyrant does all marks of Fury wear.
VVill you accept my Service?

Queen.
Sir, I must
Confess, your faithful zeal deserves my Trust.
Now I believe, you are ordain'd to be
The great Preserver of my Familie.

Sir W. Stanly.
Madam, your fair Esteem I will make good,
And seal my Promise with my dearest Blood.
But now that we may take a speedy Course
By secret Practice, or by open Force
To disappoint the Tyrant, and pursue
The Bus'ness of your Safety, I must sue
For my Admission to the Princess Ear:
Some needful Orders I must have from her,
Of high Importance to our work in hand.

Queen.
Your Merit, and our Danger, Sir, command
Your speedy satisfaction: But the King
Must be at farther Distance, e're I bring
You two together. His great Jealousie
With highest Caution must attended be.
Let us retire, and study, how we may
Make perfect your Design the safest Way.

Sir W. Stanly.
Madam, you walk apace from your Distress:
Designs well modell'd seldom want success.
The Foolish Crowd, who outsides only view,
Give that to Fortune, which is Wisdom's Due.

[Exeunt.

SCENA IV.

Enter Mrs. Stanly, and Charlot.
Char.
He robs her both of Crown, and Libertie!
Can he the Gaoler of his Mistris be?
To promise Love, and thus to break his Vow,
Is all the Treason, that a King can do.

Mrs. Stanly.
He, like the worst of Thieves, means farther ill;
For Tyrants after robbing always kill.
The Sacrilegious Monster will devour
The Saint, whom he so lately did adore.

Char.
Avert it powerful Heaven! such Cruelty
Must not live long, nor so much Vertue dye.
Her glorious Champion now draws neer, and he
Killing the Gaoler will the Pris'ner free.
And, Madam, to divert the painful thought
Of her Restraint, I have some musick brought:
Musick I know, will not ungrateful be
To her, whose Soul is perfect Harmony.

Mrs. Stanly.
In this you will our Princess highly please;
And at this distance she can hear with Ease.

Charlot.
This will the trouble of her thoughts allay:
'Tis time to give attendance; let's away.

Exeunt.

SCEN. V.

[The Scene changeth to the Earl of Richmond's Quarters.]
Enter Earl of Richmond, Earl of Oxford, Lord Chandew, and Officers, &c.
Richmond.
My Lords, the World must now be taught by you
What a good Cause, and a good Sword can do.
When Valour leagu'd with Justice goes to fight,
Both Heaven, and Earth their Forces then unite:
Such Union can no more resisted be,
Then Men can save themselves from Destinie.
The odds of number on the Tyrant's side
Are but the Signs, which shew his Fear, and Pride.
They are the fairer Mark: Usurpers must
In multitude of Guards repose their trust.
But, whilst with numbers they their Camp o'recharge,
They but our Fame, and Booty more enlarge.

Oxford.
When we engage with such a guilty Foe,
Heaven's Justice adds more weight to every blow.
We only to their swift Destruction move,
Who are condemn'd already from above.

Chandew.
The Plains of Redmore seem to be the place,
Where our Just Valour must the Guilty face.
Where Conquest will a noble Harvest yield,
And turn to Groves of Laurel Bosworth Field.

Oxford.
'Tis true we deal with a destructive Foe,
(The neerest of his Blood have found him so)
But his pernicious Hands more practis'd are
In private Murther, then in open War.

Chandew.
Each common Souldier makes the cause his own,
As if none were concern'd but he alone.
But 'tis not strange to see the Souldier fir'd
To such a Height, when by your Flame inspir'd.

Richmond.
My Lords, I to your courteous praise agree;
They may be high, because you heighten'd me.
The Priour of Litchfield, Sir, is lighted here,
Enter Souldier.
And humbly craves the favour of your Ear.

Oxford.
'Tis he you sent for, Sir; whose Name is high
For Learning, Pious Life, and Prophecy.

Richmond.
Those Leaders most shall prosper, who advise
With Heaven e're they begin their Enterprise.

[Exeunt Oxford, and Chandew.

SCEN. VI.

Earl of Richmond, Priour of Litchfield.
Richmond.
Excuse me, Father; for I think it rude
To call you to a Camp from Solitude.
I am inform'd, that you to private ears
Foretold Events, which cur'd my Partie's fears.
Your Power with Heaven is such, as may obtain,
What otherwise I should despair to gain.
This, Father, is the cause of my address.

Priour.
Then, Sir, thank Heaven; for you shall have success.

Richmond.
Now I believe, the publick Voice is true,
Which does ascribe Prophetick Force to you.

Priour.
That Light dwells not in Sinners: I should be
Charg'd with the worst of Crimes, Hypocrisie,
If I pretended to that holy Fire,
Which does the cleaner Hearts of Saints inspire
But 'mongst the Records of our Priory
Th'Authentick works of the wise Gildas lye;
Whose holy Life, and whose Prophetick Fire
The Ages past with rev'rence did admire.
In his large Volume I shall only trace
What does concern your Person, and your Race.

Richmond.
The Authours Value heighten'd by your Praise
Does expectation to assurance raise.

Priour.
First he runs o're the Conquests of this Land
By Saxons, Danes, and by a Norman hand:
Then mentions the two Roses; and in brief
Foretels th'Event of that Intestine Strife,
Which has the noblest Blood of England cost,
And the best Provinces of France has lost.
Our Authour next upon the present state
Of our own times more largely does dilate:
And says the fury of a Savage Boar
Shall his own Blood, and then this Land devour.
Then he describes the Man (and you are he)
Who must redeem this Realm from Tyrannie;
Who after Conquest shall by force of Love
More then by War, our happiness improve.
For peaceful England shall the Roses find
No more in battel, but in marriage joyn'd.

Richmond.
What can be more? shall I successful prove
In all my hopes of Empire, and of Love?

Priour.
Sir, much remains behind; your Race shall do
Things yet more worthy of themselves and you;
They shall an Union make of louder Fame,
And of two Kingdoms one great Empire frame.
But after this a Tempest does succeed,
Which Hell shall with contagious Vapours feed;
This Tempest will produce a deed so black,
That Murther then shall an example lack.
But from this dark Eclipse a Prince will rise,
Who shall all Vertues of your Race comprise.
Forreign, and Native Foes he shall o'recome,
With force abroad, with lenity at home.
Though in our sep'rate World, this happy Land
The center of his Power will fixed stand,
Yet here the wide Circumf'rence must not end,
But with the Ocean joyntly shall extend.
Let Envious, and ungrateful Nations joyn
His Birth-right to usurp, or to confine;
When they invade his Empire on the Main,
They will but act the Gyants War again:
And when his Sea-Dominion they dispute,
His Thunder shall those Sons of Earth confute.

Richmond.
These great and glorious things whilst you recite,
You fill my Soul with Wonder, and Delight.
Your Scouts, Sir, are return'd, and bring you word,
[Enter Soldier.
That the Usurper's men have past the Ford.

Richmond.
There's for thy News: I wish th'Allarum true.
Father, we now must part; yet we'l pursue
The same great End, though in a diff'rent way;
For I must go to fight, and you to pray.

[Exit Priour.
[Enter Oxford and Chandew.

SCEN. VII.

Richmond, Oxford, Chandew.
Oxford.
We both have view'd the Foe within our ken;
And we are certain, they are Stanly's men.
Their Number's not five thousand; And their Post
Is not so fixt, but that it may be lost.
Sir, we may force their Quarters; And on these
Begin the Number of your Victories.

Richmond.
No, my dear Oxford; Those, whom now you see,
Must be unseen, and need not conquer'd be,
For they are ours already. But this must
A Secret be for yours, and Chandew's Trust.
From their so neer advancing you may learn,
That the next Sun will end our great Concern.
My Lords, we have but little time to spare;
Our Arms, and men we must with speed prepare.

Oxford.
With Joy your Orders we shall all obey;
Our zeal to serve you suffers by Delay.

[Exeunt.
[The Scene is Changed to the Princess Lodging.]