University of Virginia Library

ACTUS QUARTUS.

SCEN. PRIMA.

Enter Sir Will. Stanly, Mrs. Stanly, Ld Strange.
Sir W. Stanly.
Nephew, pray leave us: If the Guards should see
Our close Converse, we should suspected be.


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Ld Strange.
I am the Witty Tyrant's Cruel sport,
Fetter'd in Silk, condemn'd to be at Court.
[Exit Strange.

Sir W. Stanly.
Sister, pray tell the Queen, by her Command
That I wait here to kiss the Princess hand.

Mrs. Stanly.
If you reveal your madness, you will lose
The Glory of that Rescue, you propose;
For such a daring Lover she'l despise
More, then she hates her rudest Enemies.

Sir W. Stanly.
So far my sense with your advice accords,
That I'le shew Deeds more daring, then my Words.
Pray, go. O Coward Heart! shall sudden fear
[Exit Mrs. Stanly.
Possess my Breast, that was a Stranger there?
Must I now tremble at a Woman's sight,
Who was not born for Terrour, but Delight?
Thus Natures Law is by Love's Power controll'd,
Which men disheartens, and makes Women Bold.

[Enter Princess.

SCEN. II.

Princess, Sir William Stanly.
Mrs. Stanly.
Madam I humbly beg, that I may have
Leave to expose my Life, your Life to save.
My Zeal has long lain speechless, though not weak;
And 'tis your Danger now, that makes it speak.

Prin.
Sir by the Queen's Advertisement I learn,
How great a sense you have in my Concern.
You have a Brother too, whose Constant Love
By many secret Tryals I approve:
And, though Court-Favours on his Person shine,
His Outside is the King's, his Inside mine.

Sir W. Stanly.
'Tis my Misfortune, Madam, that I must
More, then my own, to others Merit trust:
And yet ere long I may deserve your Ear
Without the help of an Interpreter:
I in your Favour should to none submit,
If more, then all the World, I merit it.

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I hope, if I relieve your present State,
You will my Love by my Performance rate.

Prin.
Your Language too mysterious is; more plain
Expressions sooner will my Credit gain.
In your pretended Love you must not vye
With those, who wish me well by Natures tye.

Sir W. Stanly.
Madam, There is a Love which does outgo
All that of Sisters, and of Mothers too.

Prin.
Hold Sir; These aiery Notions pray forbear:
For I am deaf to what I should not hear.
Give me no Cause to make a Foe of him,
Whose Friendship to my House I would esteem:
For I the Tyrant's Rage shall more approve,
Then the rude Boldness of a Subject's Love.

Sir W. Stanly.
So far from us below you are remov'd,
As makes you fit to be ador'd, not lov'd;
Yet from such Love, as does Heaven's Favour gain,
I need not, Madam, as from Sin, abstain:
If Heavenly objects you resemble most,
Can Heaven be gain'd, and you the same way lost?

Prin.
Hold Sir; This vain Discourse does ill become
Her, who is newly summon'd to her Tomb.

Sir W. Stanly.
Madam, those Summons you shall ne're obey;
I, or the Tyrant first shall lead the Way:
Your Death design'd shall forfeit him his Crown;
The Grave, he digs for you, shall be his own.

Prin.
What sure Foundation, Sir, can I descry
Of this bold Promise, which you raise so high?

Sir W. Stanly.
Foundations, Madam, are laid under Ground;
And mine, though not expos'd to View, are sound.
By painful Flattery, and by long Address
I to the Tyrant's Bosom have Access:
And Death by Steel or Poyson is his Due,
Who forms a black Design to murther you.

Prin.
Those Southern Arts to stab, or poyson Foes,
Become the Climates, where such Poyson grows:
He, that is born of a true English Race,
Never destroys a Foe, but to his Face.


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Sir W. Stanly.
But, Madam, can you give your Life away,
And to the Tyrant be a willing Prey?

Prin.
To see him fairly kill'd, I would resign
All Right to what he holds, and should be mine.

Sir W. Stanly.
Verst in the World, but yet not knowing you,
Madam, I ne're till now, true Honour knew:
I am your Convert; and so taught, I may
Ere long to perfect Glory find the way.
And, Madam, for a Tryal, I this Vow
Here solemnly declare to Heaven, and you;
The Tyrant shall be slain, and your releast
Nobly by him, whom, Madam, you love best.
In the Suns Eye, and in the open Field
Fierce Richard shall by Richmond's Sword be kill'd.
You, Honour's Mistris, when this Work is done,
Without Reproch your Proselite may owne.

Prin.
I fear, you take great pleasure to surprise
My thoughts with Riddles, and dark Prophecies:
I shall refer my Faith to their Event;
Now my last hours must otherwise be spent.
[Exit Princess.

Sir W. Stanly.
As Chymists vex themselves, and Nature too,
When her Elixir they in vain pursue;
And yet their toyl does other Secrets find,
Which improve Art, and benefit Mankind;
So, though a hidden Love I seek in vain,
Yet in the Pursuit I shall Glory gain.

[Exit.
The Scene is changed to a Field adjoyning to Richmond's Quarters.

SCEN. III.

Enter Earl of Richmond, Lord Stanly.
Richmond.
Talk not of Victory; Heaven can confer
No Blessing on that Man, who loseth Her.

L. Stanly.
I know, the Tyrant, when all hopes are past,
Reserves that bloody Stroke for the last Cast:
Surprise him with a Charge; that may prevent

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The Execution of his dire Intent.

Richmond.
Could I destroy with the same ease and speed,
Him, and his Camp, as he can make her bleed,
Your Counsel then were good; But else her Fate
By my Attache I should accelerate:
The bloody Tyrant, stung with Jealousie,
Will, prest by Danger, twice revenged be,
Including me in Her: He cannot chuse,
But hastily destroy what he must lose.

Ld Stanly.
It still has been the Care of Providence
From sudden strokes to shelter Innocence.

Richmond.
I Providence adore; But to expect
A Miracle, and so the means neglect,
When now the Danger of her Life is near,
Were to deserve the mischief, which we fear.

Ld Stanly.
No way, but Conquest, can prevent her Doom.

Richmond.
I'le yield my self a Pris'ner in her Room.

Ld Stanly.
Can the Restraint of her Preserver be
The safest way to set the Pris'ner free?

Richmond.
'Tis all the way; because the Tyrant's Fear
Of Richmond makes his Cruelty to Her:
When I am in his gripe, his Appetite
Will in my Blood, more, then in hers, delight.

Ld Stanly.
Sir, you mistake him; both will please him best:
By drinking Blood the Thirst is still encreast.
Sir, your important Life you freely may
Lay out for her; But throw it not away.

Richmond.
I am resolv'd, that secretly to night
You shall convey me to the Princess sight.

Stanly.
Shall I conduct you, where you Death must meet?
Here let me rather perish at your Feet!

Richmond.
O friend! my Love in this great Exigent
Must Dangers seek, which yours would fain prevent:
Nor can those Dangers be avoided here;
My Life, and Safety are confin'd in Her;
Come, guide me to the Princess that I may,
If not secure her Life, her Death delay:
And be assur'd, my Lord, that her Commands

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With your Advice shall wholly guide my hands.

Ld Stanly.
Sir I both yours, and her Discretion know;
And on your Terms propos'd I yield to go:
But this great Enterprise you must disguise
As well to your best Friends, as Enemies;
For, should it be divulg'd, your Absence here
May prove as fatal, as your Presence there.

Richmond.
Take me, my Lord, and rule me, as you please.
You (unsuspected yet) may gain with ease
Admission to the Tyrant's Court; and I
May pass, helpt by the Night's Obscurity,
And a long Absence, for your Officer.
Besides, my Lord, our Camps now joyn so neer,
That our Return may both prevent the Day,
And all Reports of being gone away.

Ld Stanly.
Reason and Love, when Danger they descry,
Did never yet make use of the same Eye:
For now this Hazard, which your soaring Love
Lessens to Nothing, does my Horrour move.
But, since it is my Duty to obey,
Let's not encrease your Danger by Delay.

Richmond.
On you my Hopes, and Happiness relye;
You are the Ruler of my Destiny.

The Scene is changed to Richmond's Quarters.

SCENA IV.

Enter Earl of Oxford, Lord Chandew.
Oxford.
Twice through our Quarters I have walk'd the Round,
And to my Wonder, have not Richmond found:
Can he his Person in a Season hid,
When the next Day must Royalty decide?
The knowledge of his absence from the Camp
Would all the Courage of our Army damp.

Chandew.
In Common Souldiers I did never see

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Minds so prepar'd for Fight, and Victorie.

Oxford.
My Lord, this Land does yield a sturdy breed,
Which, when they are well fed will freely bleed:
You French have question'd, if they eat, or fight
With greater appetite, or more delight?

Chandew.
I must allow, though yet a stranger here,
That your Clime only such a Race does bear.
French courage is to Noble Blood confin'd;
The rest are Slaves in Body, and in Mind.

[Enter Officer and delivers a Message. Exit.]
Oxford.
My Lord, this message does encrease my Fear;
We nothing yet can of our Gen'ral hear.

Chandew.
Heaven give him safety; and I only crave,
He may a Conquest find, and I a Grave.

Oxford.
By sudden starts you shew a smother'd grief:
Unvented Sorrows seldom find relief.

Chandew.
I long have wisht to empty in your Breast
A grief, which may be pity'd, not redrest:
A grief, whose lenitive is such a Pain,
As strongest Nature hardly can sustain:
A Daughter's Death is all the Favour now,
That Heaven's Compassion can a Parent shew.

Oxford.
What most you love, you hope and wish to lose:
What sadder Object can your Fears propose?

Chandew.
Here you the height of my affliction see;
I hope her Death, I fear her Infamie.

Oxford.
Your Grief concludes too fast; you cannot know,
But that she's safe in Life, and Honour too.

Chandew.
My Lord, when I have told my Story out,
I shall too easily remove the doubt.
That Daughter, who did once make all my Joy,
And all my Happiness does now destroy,
Did so forsake me in a Fatal Night,
That she twelve Moons has wasted out of sight:
And this with Horrour does my Grief renew,
For, if by Force surpris'd, she's murther'd too.
If not; I dread an uncompell'd Escape
More, then the mischief of a bloody Rape,


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Oxford.
In this sad Story I confess, there are
Just grounds of Fear, but not of your despair:
Those motives, which induc'd her to withdraw,
Perhaps may do no wrong to Honour's Law:
For, if she lives, she does a Mind derive
From you, which cannot loss of Fame survive.

Chandew.
Your Friendship puts a favourable Gloss
On actions, which imply her Honour's loss.
But in this strait of Time I will forbear
To make you longer a Joynt-sufferer.

Oxford.
The Night does waste; and to the publick Eye
'Tis fit our General's absence we supply.

[Exeunt.

SCEN V.

[The Scene is changed to the King's quarters.]
Enter King, L. Lovel, Sir William Catesby.
Catesby.
Miles Forrest is his Name; a fellow stout,
And yet so dull, he never felt a doubt;
Nor questions deeds ill relisht by the Laws:
He weighs reward, but measures not the Cause.
'Twas he, Sir, who out-went your swift commands,
When the two Brothers fell by his bold hands.

King.
I, that's a Friend. Go, Catesby, call him in.
[Exit Catesby.
My Justice on the Princess must begin:
Her favour'd Int'rest has a double sting;
For she can make, and can unmake a King.
[Enter Catesby, and Forrest.
O fellow-Souldier, welcome! Nay, come near:
What Office in our Army do you bear?

Forrest.
I am Lieutenant to Lord Lovel's Troop.

Catesby.
He does by more, then common service, hope,
That he already has your Favour won,
And merits to do more by what is done.

King.
Employment, and Reward he shall not miss;
The first old Company, that falls, is his.
And that his present wants I may relieve,
Catesby, let him two hundred Marks receive.


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Forrest.
An't please you, I can't talk, but I can do;
I can spur on through good, and bad ways too.

King.
I like him; he's a blunt, plain, honest man.

Catesby.
Sir, he'l talk little, but do all he can.

King.
Catesby, I shall employ him in a deed,
Wherein he'l shew, he's hearty by his speed.
Necessity of State will not allow
Leisure for Scruples, which from Conscience grow:
Who follow Conscience, often come too late.

Forrest.
Sir, as to good, or bad look you to that.

King.
Well spoken: go, and from our Catesby be
Instructed; your reward expect from me.

[Exit Forrest.
Lovel.
Sir, with your Person's safety can no way
Be found, this Execution to delay?
Her bleeding, when in publick understood,
Will cause a Fever in the Peoples Blood.

King.
If I prevail, I am above the harms
Of sudden Tumults, or intestine arms.
If I am lost; Richmond my Throne may have;
But he shall find his Mistress in her Grave.

Lovel.
Your Strength so far transcends your Enemies,
That such precautions you may well despise.

[Enter L. Stanly.
King.
My Lord, I am transported with your sight.

L. Stanly.
Your Souldiers now want but the morning's light,
To charge the Enemy, who, past retreat,
Are opportunely lodg'd for a defeat.
I come, led by my Duty, and my Care,
For your last Orders in this great affair.

King.
Our Councel's call'd, and suddenly will sit;
You shall receive your Orders, when we meet.

L. Stanly.
Sir, in these Quarters I am much surpris'd,
Hearing, the Princess is so ill advis'd:
I had the honour once of her esteem;
And now would fain serve you, and her redeem.
Be pleas'd to grant me free access, to try
How far I may induce her to comply.

King.
After so many tryals, your Success
I question; but I yield to your address.


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Ld Stanly.
Sir, though I lose my Pains, I'le lose no Time.
[Exit Ld Stanly.]

King.
Is not that Subject guilty of a Crime
Deserving Death, who makes his Prince affraid?

Catesby.
It is the worst high Treason to invade
The chiefest Right belonging to the Throne:
All should a Monarch fear, but he fear none.

King.
Catesby, I must on your great Care relye,
That his young Son may not escape your Eye.

Catesby.
Sir, he is strictly watch'd.

King.
When we decide
The Field, he in these Quarters must abide:
If with the Father we should trust the Son
In open Battel, we should Hazard run.

Ld Lovel.
You make your Creatures useless, when your Care
Acts all the painful Bus'nes of the War.

King.
Mark these: the stubborn Princess, when I send
[To Catesby.
The King shews two Rings to Catesby.
This Ruby, must her Life's short story end,
And this when you receive, young Strange must dye.

Catesby.
When you command, my Duty must comply.

King.
I came not lazily to wear the Crown,
But 'twas with watchful labour made my own;
And so I'le keep it. Princes are not wise,
Who sleep themselves, and trust their Servants Eyes.
But, if at last I must my Power resign,
It shall be Fortunes Errour, and not mine.

Ld Lovel.
Where so much strength, and Conduct joyn in one,
Fortune is but an idle looker on.

The Scene is changed to the Princess Lodging.

SCEN. VI.

Enter, Princess, Mrs. Stanly, Charlot.
Prin.
When I am dead, let noble Richmond know,
That dying I did court the Tyrant's Blow:
To keep my Faith, my Person is destroy'd;
I by a Grave the Tyrant's Bed avoid.


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Charlot.
It doubly would to us your Death transfer,
If I should tell, and he this message hear:
Madam, to me it were a happier Doom,
If I might kindly perish in your Room.

Prin.
To me Death's Face more dreadful did appear
Far off, then now, when it approcheth near.
Death is a debt, which all to Nature pay;
They clear it best, who dye the noblest way.

Mrs. Stanly.
Heaven has design'd you for a Publick Good;
Your Greatness yet lyes folded in the bud:
No Tyrant's hand shall crop it whilst it grows;
You shall ripe Glory at the full disclose.

Prin.
Your Kindness now does sound like flattery;
Truth only should be spoke to those that dye.
You need not cast these mists before my eyes;
I can my Danger see without surprise.
I only grieve, that I must leave behind
A Parent grown by too much love unkind.
A Mothers Tenderness makes our contest;
She loves my Safety, I my Honour best.

SCENA VII.

Enter Earl of Richmond, Ld Stanly, and Officer of the Guards.
Officer.
Though my Commission peremptory was,
Yet you (my Lord) upon your Word shall pass.

Ld Stanly.
I know a Souldier's charge; and would forbear
Without full warrant to adventure here.

[Exit Officer.
Prin.
What may this vision mean, which does my eyes
At once with Horrour, and Delight surprise?
But, since the faithful Stanly does appear,
I cannot think him brought a Pris'ner here.

Richmond.
Led by the Duty of my Love, I come
Resolving to divert, or share your Doom.

Prin.
Ah! what can you divert by coming here
Disguis'd, and not an open Conquerer?
When you your Danger rashly thus encrease,

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How can you hope to make my Sufferings less?

Charlot.
apart.]
What does his cruel Passion mean to do?
He'l lose himself, and for my Rival too!

Richmond.
Let not my Hazard, Madam, waste your care:
Can I be safe, when you in Danger are?
When you are gone, what have I more to do?
All Cause of living perisheth with you.

Prin.
Weak minds may throw away their Lives in vain,
And have Recourse to Death for fear of Pain:
If this were Courage, Women would not do it;
Those, who dare least, are still most subject to it.

Richmond.
On your account I owne my want of Heart;
Here Fortune wounds me in my tend'rest part.
All other Storms of Fate my Soul could bear:
Only your Danger, Madam, makes me fear.

Prin.
Is it an Honour, you reserve for me,
To be the cause of your Apostacie
From that high Courage, which has rais'd your Fame?
You must not cast such Scandal on our Flame.
By your Concern for me you must be more,
And not be less, then what you were before.

Richmond.
Ah! Madam, whilst my Fears you thus reprove,
You shew your self a Stranger grown to Love;
Your own Experience else had made it clear,
That Lovers Hearts are never void of fear.
Who thus are unconcern'd, act not the part
Of a Couragious, but a hard'ned Heart.

Charlot.
If his be hard, 'tis only hard to me.

[apart.
Prin.
I blame not your Concern to set me free,
But your Despair, which makes you thus neglect
The only Means, which can my Life protect;
For if my Danger may diverted be,
Your Conqu'ring Sword must force my Liberty.

Richmond.
How can I draw my Sword, when I descry
Your Fatal Ruine in my Victory?
The Monster baited, and then Furious grown,
Will all his Rage discharge on you alone.
But what we cannot by a Rescue gain,

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Perhaps by an Exchange we may obtain:
The Tyrant, jealous of the Chance of War,
Will, to be siez'd of me, your Person spare.
I humbly beg this Favour at your Feet,
In which your Safety, and my Glory meet.

Princess.
By such a change I shall a loser be;
The Ransome over-buys my Libertie.
Whilst you the Height of Love in this express,
You teach my Gratitude to do no less;
Which will not let you here usurp my Room,
Nor yield, that you shall rob me of my Doom.

Richmond.
Has Heaven but mockt us with such excellence,
Only to shew it, and then snatch it hence?
Can Providence want Power, or Will to save
Vertue her self from the devouring Grave?

Princess.
Take heed! your Passion does unruly grow
Against your Reason, and Religion too;
Sir, when you injure those, you injure me:
You must obey, not argue Heaven's decree;
And both our losses with a Courage bear
Worthy of me, and of a Conquerer.

Rich.
What shall I do? when Heaven, and Love combine,
To make the Danger yours, the Terrour mine:
You are the Person hurt, and I complain;
Yours is the Wound, and mine is all the Pain.

Princess.
These soft expressions of your kindness might
In some more proper Season move delight;
But they offend me now, when you should be
Preparing in the Field for Victorie.
Pray, Sir, depart; For you by Conquest must
With Laurel crown my Temples, or my Dust.

Richmond.
If this perfection (Heaven!) so like your own,
Must only fill a Tomb, and not the Throne,
How will our Faith subsist, how shall we know,
That those above have thoughts of us below?

Princess.
When you expect a Favour, 'tis not just,
Nor safe, that you the giver should mistrust.
Let my example now instruct your mind;

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Be much resolv'd, and yet as much resign'd.
So Heaven preserve you, Sir! my Presence may
Perhaps be guilty of your longer stay.
[Exit Princess.

L. Stanly.
The Princess is retir'd; pray, Sir, make haste;
The Night's your shelter, and begins to waste.

Richmond.
My Lord, I go: only a word from thee,
My faithful Boy, which may my Cordial be.
[To Charlot.
Say; does our Mistress with an open Ear,
When thou dost speak for me, thy pleading hear?
And yet alas! What ease will it impart,
To lose her Person, and to gain her Heart?

Charlot.
Your Highness now may well these questions spare,
Since her own Words did all her Thoughts declare.

[Enter Mrs. Stan.
Mrs. Stan.
Pray, Sir, depart; the Princess fears your stay.

Richmond.
O! who from Heaven, and Her would haste away?

Exeunt.

SCEN. VIII.

[The Scene is changed to the Kings Lodging.]
[The Curtain is let down.]
Enter Catesby, and Ratclife at one of the Doors before the Curtain.
Catesby.
You waited the first Watch; did the King rest?

Ratclife.
His Bosom lodgeth an unquiet Guest.

Catesby.
During the second watch, I tended him;
He often walk'd in Sleep, guided by Dream.
Enter Lovel at the other Door before the Curtain.
Who are you? Stand: this is forbidden Ground.

Lovel.
A friend, Lovel.

Ratclife.
O! he has walk'd the Round.

Lovel.
Ratclife, I left the King much discompos'd,
His Mind still waking, though his Eyes were clos'd.
How is he now?

Ratclife.
He starts; then calls on those,
Who with more quiet in their Graves repose:
This, when I watcht, I did with Horrour see.

Lovel.
This does with what I saw too well agree.
When he sleeps best his Cares seem all awake:
Ill-boding Fate does these disquiets make!


48

Catseby.
He dreams; is that so strange? you seem to me
By your Concern to dream as much, as he.
Can his crude Fumes of ill concocted meat
Such Womens Fears in men of Arms beget?
These apprehensions misbecome that Night,
Whose following Day must be employ'd in Fight.

Lovel.
Your Admonitions, Sir, you may forbear;
Our care is more, then yours, but not our Fear.
He cry'd, Prince Edward's kill'd; then he did grone
For the like Murther on the Father done.
Then mention'd Clarence, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,
And call'd them his Ambitions bloody Prey.
Next his late Queen, Hastings, and Buckingham,
And last of all he did his Nephews name.
Then he awak'd, and starting from his Couch,
Bade me depart, and not till call'd, approch.

Catesby.
My Lord, this only shews his Active Mind,
Which with his outward Parts Sleep cannot bind.
His Restlessness does all our Quiet bring:
Happy are Subjects of a watchful King!

Lovel.
Perhaps such Dreams may not deserve our Fears;
Yet Dreams sometimes are Fates ill Messengers.
But Midnight is now past; and Nature may
Need rest to bear the Labour of the Day.

SCENA IX.

The Curtain is opened. The King appeares in a distracted posture, newly risen from his Bed, walking in his Dream with a dagger in his hand, and surrounded by the Ghosts of those whom he had formerly killed.
King.
Forrest! Rogue, Traitour! can thy Coward hands
Tremble, and faulter, when thy King commands?
They are not dead; they walk, they threaten me:
Dispatch; Kill them again, or I'le kill thee.
Varlet, make haste; Go poyson, strangle, drown
My Brother, Nephews, Wife, to save my Crown.

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Small Victims may less Deities become;
To Soveraign Power belongs a Hecatome.
My Breath shall raise a Storm, my Hand a Flood,
And make this Isle float in a Sea of Blood.
Hah! Ghosts? there are no Ghosts, nor ever were,
But in the Tales of Priests, or Womens Fear.
If you be Ghosts, to your dark Mansions go:
If you be Ghosts, 'twas I that made you so.
I of your Substance these pale Nothings made;
How dare you then your Conquerour invade?
Go home, dark Vagabonds! must I not have
Rest in my Bed, nor you Rest in your Grave?
What Magick can Night-Vapours thus condense
To Forms, which cheat, and terrifie the Sense?
Saint Henry! get thee hence to thy cold Bed;
So tame, alive? so fierce, now thou art Dead?
A holy King did not the Throne become;
Thy Godliness prepar'd thee for a Tomb.
I did from Tewksbery dispatch thy Heir,
In the next World to be thy Harbinger:
Would you have staid behind, when he was gone?
A Father ought not to out-live his Son.
Hah! Brother? Wife? Stand off! No tyes of Blood
Are by aspiring Monarchs understood:
They to secure my Crown did Life resign;
She in a Cup, he in a Butt of Wine.
Peace, Conscience! I long since have conquer'd thee:
Yet still thou art dispos'd to Mutinie.
Oft have I par'd thy Branches; but thy Root
Does lye so deep, I cannot tear it out.
Of Soveraign Power it is the only Curse,
To be Successful, and then feel Remorse.

The Curtain falls.