University of Virginia Library

ACTUS I.

[SCENA I.]

Enter King, Lord Lovel, Sir William Catesby, Sir Richard Ratclife, with Guards and Attendants.
King.
The World must now confess, that Monarchs are
Of him, who rules above, the cheifest care:
For Richmond, whom in vain so long I sought,
Whom I with half my Realm had gladly bought,
Is (past retreat) brought home to my own door:
Heaven could not give me, nor I covet more!
Fond Boy! what madness with such fatal speed
Under my Justice hastens thee to bleed?
I owe thy Frenzy to my kinder Stars,
Who thus conclude my dangers, and my wars.

L. Lovel.
The Powers above are now ambitious grown
To bribe your Favour, and preserve your Throne;
They give you Richmond; and in giving him
They from the power of chance your Crown redeem:
Should the world joyn this Kingdom to devour,
It would not weaken, but declare your power.

Catesby.
Tumultuous, and Unarm'd their Forces are,
And fit to make a riot, not a war:
The Crown tempts Richmond, like a silly Fly,
Which dazled with the flame does in it dy.
As Justice here below, so Heaven does blind
Their eyes, whose execution is design'd.

King.
I both his rashness and his weakness know;
But those, who now are weak, may stronger grow;
I therefore have such preparations made,
As form an Army fitter to invade
Whole Kingdoms, then to quell a giddy Rout
Of half-starv'd Fugitives, newly thrust out
From Forreign Lands: Poor Worms! they shall not long
Attend their Fate. Treason though ne're so young,
And weak, should not be dally'd with, but must,
When first it buds, and in the shell be crush't.

Ratclife.
Great Sir, these Fugitives will soon afford
More bus'ness for your Heads-man, then your Sword:
But 'tis not now their number, nor their armes,
That they confide in; they have other charms,
Which draw into their Circle, and bewitch
All those, whom either discontent, or Itch
Of novelty makes apt to be undone;
The Lady El'sabeth's weak right they own
To ground their Treason on: they boldly frame
All Orders, Warrants, Summons in her Name.
And thus the easie Welch (a Nation soon
Stirr'd up, and then again as soon laid down)
Caught with this Quail-pipe to their Camp resort,
And with Provisions the lean Troops support.

Catesby.
Young Richmond does himself her Champion own,
And brags, his bus'ness is to place the Crown
On that young Lady's head, at least to dy
In the attempt.

King.
O rare Knight-Errantry!
By these degrees he would himself prefer
First to espouse her Quarrel, and then Her.
But this bold Youth shall feel, that he is more
Out-match't in Wit, and Policy, then Powe:
She shall be crown'd, and marry'd; but by thee,
Young Fool! nor crown'd, nor marry'd shall she be;
For when she wears a Crown, thoul't want a Head;
Thou in thy Grave, she in her Marriage-Bed
At the same time shall lye.

Catesby.
Sir, will you give
Me leave to ask how your pretentions thrive,
And what impression they have made upon
That Lady's heart? She cannot be all Stone,
And still make answer with a sullen No,
When so much Power, and Eloquence shall woo.

King.
Something tow'rds Conquest in the Siege is done,
For in the Queen I have the out-works won;
But the main Fort is such a stubborn Rock,
As does all Parlies, and all Stormings mock.

L. Lovel.
The Mother gain'd is more then half the day;
A Daughter's duty must not disobey,
And the two greatest Powers at once withstand
Both of a Mother, and a King's Command.

Catesby.
This present juncture of affairs requires
A speedy answer to your just desires:
You must those strict Formalities lay by,
Which custom pays to Virgin Modesty;
For now the publick safety does perswade
To court her like a Widow, not a Maid.

King.
I know, how much depends on this dispatch;
The Peace of Nations rests upon our match:
I, and the Kingdom can no longer stay;
And if she will not love, she must obey.

Enter Lord Stanly.

SCENA II.

King, Lord Stanly, Lord Lovel, Catesby, Ratclife, and Lord Strange, &c.
Catesby.
Sir, my Lord Stanly arriv'd.

King.
My best
Of Friends! O, let me lodge thee in my breast,
The Person of the World most coveted!
For my occasions want thy Hand, and Head,
Thy Councel, and thy Action.

L. Stanly.
Sir, to you
All, that I can, all, that I am, is due.

King.
You now may shew it, Stanly in defence
Of your best Friend; For Richmond with pretence
Of right as weak, as his starv'd Forces are,
Invades the Land; whom nothing but despair,
Or hunger could have thrust on this design,
Unless some Traitors here should with him joyn.

L. Stanly.
Poor Mushroom! His short date of Life is out,
Since all his hopes are in the fickle Rout;
Whose Favour is more various, then the Winds,
Whose Fortunes are more desp'rate, then their Minds.
But when your conqu'ring Army comes in sight,
You'l find them fit for slaughter, not for fight.
Of this a signal proof now brought me hither;
For having notice there was drawn together
A numerous body of the Borderers
'Twixt Cheshire, and North-Wales; urg'd by my fears,
Lest, unsupprest at first, this little Flame
Grown wider might become too fierce to tame,
I strait did hasten to their Rendezvous;
And, lest I should the fair advantage lose,
I did not for your Royal Order wait:
And, Sir, the issue was proportionate
Both to my Zeal, and Justice of your cause:
For now our Swords have left them to your Laws.

King.
My Lord, this service to the full does shew
How much a King may to his Subject owe:
For Richmond these, and these had Richmond prop't,
Had not your Hand this budding Treason crop't.
And now, my Lord, I hope, your Forces are
Advancing hither; For I ill can spare
About my Person, and within my call
Such Troops, as yours, and such a General.

L. Stanly.
You are my Sov'raign (Sir) a double way;
Your Wisdom, and your Power bear equal sway:
But, Sir, I fear th'effect, if we should joyn,
And all our Strength within one Camp confine.
You know, the Power by the Invader brought
(Compar'd to yours) will scarce deserve your thought,
Much less your Fear: He all his hopes does place
Upon the Risings of the Populace,
And thinks, his Snow-ball rowling to, and fro,
Though slender yet, to Bulk and Weight may grow:
If this be true, judge how important then
Divided Bodies are of chosen Men,
Who by their several motions may prevent
Risings, and Succours to the Rebels sent.

King.
So let it be: I must confess, my Lord,
Your reasons are convincing, as your Sword.
Honour's your Mistress; and I clearly see,
You mean to rob me of the Victorie,
And make her wholly yours.

L. Stanly.
Sir, I design
The Glory to be yours, the Hazard mine.

King.
Hazard, and Glory are so linkt together,
That without both I can pretend to neither.
But how does your indulgent Lady bear
This rash Invasion of her Son? I fear,
That Treason countenanc'd by Nature may
In a weak Mother's heart too strongly sway.

L. Stanly.
The secrets of her Mind she only knows;
I her, but not her Passions did espouse.

King.
I dread her, as a dang'rous Enemy,
Who in the arms of my best Friend does lye.

L. Stanly.
Her thoughts are free, but by a trusty Guard
From all disloyal Acts her Person's bar'd:
Nature her self shall be divorc't from me,
When she rebels against my Loyaltie.

King.
My Lord, your great Example may improve
All my best Subjects in their Faith, and Love.
And here you have a Son fit to inherit
All that is yours: So far his early Merit
Into my Favour is advanc'd, that I
Am not at ease without his Company;
He shall remain, though you are forc't from hence;
His stay must your departure recompence.

L. Strange.
apart.
His meaning is, I must his Pris'ner be:
Love is the foulest Mask of Crueltie!

L. Stanly.
I doubt, your Favour's too much antedate
His Merit.

King.
Fear it not. My Lord, 'tis late:
Whilst you stay here, some of your time I know,
You must on Bus'ness, and your Friends bestow.

Exit. Ld. Stanly and Strange.

SCENA III.

King.
Unhappy fate of Monarchs! that we must
Often depend on those, we most distrust.
But of this Loyal Rhet'rick (pray) how much
In your opinions will endure the touch?

Catesby.
Sir, I believe 'tis in his Power to be
Your greatest Friend, or your worst Enemie:
The softness of his words makes but that sound
With which all hollow Bosoms most abound;
But his late Actions, I confess, have gain'd
My Faith to think his honesty not feign'd:
The rising Borderers by him supprest,
That he is sound at heart give ample test.

King.
Methinks, his great unwillingness to joyn
Forces together argues some design:
And yet I must confess his reasons are
Of weight, and fitted to the Rules of War.

L. Lovell.
Sir, my Lord Strange will for his Father be
A good collateral securitie;
He sets such value on his young Son's Head,
That he'll ne're pawn it to be forfeited.

King.
I know this bus'ness has a smiling face;
But, Lovell, watchful prudence cannot trace
The subtle ways of a dissembling Heart:
I am well read in that mysterious Art,
And can discern where all my danger lyes:
Mines have destroy'd more Towns, than Batteries.

Enter Sir William Stanly.

SCENA IV.

Sir William Stanly.
Sir, the rash Foe all your desires fulfills
The Native Fortresses of Wales, the Hills,
Which only could his certain Fate prolong,
He madly ha's forsaken; and the Throng
Have crost the Severn.

King.
Happy news! at last
Our little Cæsar Rubicon ha's past.
Either he acts the part of a mad Lover,
Or hopes, his Rashness may his Weakness cover.

Sir Will. Stanly.
Let him come on, he, what he seeks shall have,
Since English ground best likes him for a Grave.

King.
Sir William Stanly 'tis beneath your Fame
In War to fly at such ignoble Game:
These Vipers want their Teeth. But I must ask
Your powerful aid in a much harder task.

Sir Will. Stanly.
Nothing is hard to me, when you command.

King.
Confirm me in that hope. I understand,
You o're your Sister have no little power;
She waits upon the Saint whom I adore.
Procure her Mediation for my Love;
If she in the design successful prove,
You shall be less my Subject, then my Friend;
My Gratitude shall all your Hopes transcend.

Sir Will. Stanly.
Reward did never yet my duty move;
And I am no good Advocate for Love.
But, Sir, my prompt Obedience shall fulfil
All your Commands, and help my want of skill.

King.
That Love, from her which you obtain for me,
With double Int'rest shall rewarded be.

[Exit King, Lovel, Catesby, Ratclife.
Sir Wil. Stanly
solus.
When Nature form'd this Monster, she design'd
No less, then the destruction of Mankind.
His Enemies but poorly satisfie
The Hunger of his Rage, which seeks supply.
E'en from his nearest Blood, and his own Bed:
His Wife was poyson'd, and his Nephews bled
To feed the Wolf. His Friends are kept alive,
As Indians cramm'd for Sacrifice survive.
And now this Monster both in Crimes and Shape,
On fairest Innocence designs a Rape.
Enter the Princess crossing the Stage from her own lodgings to the Queen's Appartment: In passing by Sir Will. Stanly speaks to his Sister waiting upon the Princess.
Sister, a word.

Mrs. Stanly.
I instantly will come.

Mrs. Stanly leaves the Princess in the Queens Appartment, and returns to her Brother.

SCENA V.

Mrs. Stan.
Now, Brother, what's your will?

Sir W. Stan.
I hope, this Room
Is private, and secure.

Mrs. Stanly.
You need not fear
An ambush; no close Spies can harbour here.
But whence this Caution?

Sir Will. Stanly.
Wonder not; I bring
A strict Commission for you from the King.
You must his Mistress gain; then happy we!
I shall a Prince, and you a Princess be.

Mrs Stanly.
'Tis the great Art of Kings for their Intents
To make right choice of proper Instruments;
But ours ha's grosly fail'd in his own Trade.
Pray, bid him chuse again.

Sir Will. Stanly.
You can perswade
The Princess.

Mrs. Stanly.
No: I love him not so well,
Nor her so little.

Sir Will. Stanly.
But have Gifts no Spell
To charm your Heart, and dazel your young Eyes?

Mrs. Stanly.
Him, and his Gifts I equally despise.

Sir Will. Stanly.
You serve your Mistress, making her a Queen.

Mrs. Stanly.
Brother, you know her not: But, had you been
In presence at her secret Vows to day,
You would not dare to think what now you say.
Her Honour, and Revenge she values so,
That she for them will Crown and Life forgo.

Sir Will. Stanly.
You have her favour, and at least may try,
If she will yield a little and comply.

Mrs. Stanly.
Such is her Horrour of him, that no Age
Did so much Beauty see with so much Rage.
This undertaking would too dearly cost,
For, next the Tyrant, she would hate me most.

Sir Will. Stanly.
Sister, with equal Joy great proofs I sin!
Both of your faithful, and her generous Mind.
And now suppose, that I a Champion show,
Who will, and can destroy her powerful Foe;
May this bold undertaker hope to prove,
As in her cause, successful in her Love?

Mrs. Stanly.
In common Justice she can do no less,
Then love the Authour of such happiness.

Sir Will. Stanly.
Will she that powerful Passion for him own,
Which mingles Souls, and makes two Lovers one?
So high a work should be as highly paid;
Who kills the Dragon must enjoy the Maid.

Mrs. Stanly.
Now you come on too fast: For he must wear
Of Royalty the sacred Character,
Who without Sacriledge attempts to be
At such a holy shrine Love's Votarie.

Sir Will. Stanly.
Sister, you talk in a Romantick strain;
Pray, spare your Metaphors, and be more plain.

Mrs. Stanly.
Brother, the Queen, and Princess!

[Enter the Queen, and the Princess.]
Sir Will. Stanly.
Let us go,
For I have much to say, and you to do.

Princess.
Madam, your pardon and your leave I pray
To speak one word with her.

Queen.
Daughter, you may.

The Princess talks in private with Mrs. Stanly, and the Queen advanceth forwards upon the Stage.
Queen.
To what extremes am I reduc'd by fate?
I give to him, whom mortally I hate,
Her, whom my heart loves most! It must be so:
To save a child, I must oblige a Foe!
The unconcern'd may the World's Censure weigh;
I Nature, and Necessity obey.
Let Honour's Laws be scan'd by Rules of Art;
None, but poor Mothers know a Mothers Heart!

The Princess comes forwards to the Queen.
[Exeunt Sir William Stanly and Mistris Stanly.

SCENA VI.

Queen.
Well may our Patience, Daughter, be admir'd,
Which ha's the Tyrant and Heaven's Anger tir'd.
For in the King you now a Lover meet,
Who lays himself, and Scepter at your feet.
My Heart with swelling Joy is larger grown,
To think my Blood shall repossess the Throne;
To see our wither'd Hopes spring forth a new,
Whilst all our Ruines are repair'd in you.

Prin.
Madam, your Joy more then my own, I prize,
When from a lawful cause your Joy does rise:
But, Madam, yet I cannot find our Fate
Of the old Rigour does the least abate.
Till Heaven's slow Justice shall ordain a way
With his own Blood to make this Tyrant pay
What he so barb'rously ha's spilt of ours,
In wonted Sorrows we must spend our Hours:
Of the least joy should we be guilty found,
We both our Honour, and our Duty wound.

Queen.
Long have we mourn'd the Dead, yet all our grief
To them, or to our selves brings no Relief:
To their cold Ashes 'twere a fond respect,
The safety of the Living to neglect.

Prin.
If that safe way to Infamy shall lead,
I rather chuse the Paths of Death to tread.

Queen.
The name of Infamy can it deserve,
To follow Nature, and our selves preserve?

Prin.
Nature abho'rs, that you should call him Son,
Who ha's your Children rob'd of Life, and Throne.

Queen.
Do not those wounds of Fate to mind recall;
Becaus we much have lost, must we lose all?
If we have suffer'd Ship-wrack, and our best
Vessels are sunk, shall we not save the rest?

Prin.
Alas! are the rest sav'd, when you commit
Them to that Tempest, which the others split?

Queen.
Repentance turns that Tempest to a Calm.

Prin.
That Calm may soon relapse, and grow the same
Tempest again, swelling the Purple Flood
Both with the Brother's, and the Sister's Blood:
A Calm and Tempest mingle in this Wooer,
The Calm betrays, the Tempest does devour.

Queen.
Trust to a Mother's Judgment. The sure test
Of Princes meanings is their Interest.
That very Cause, which mov'd his Crueltie
Against my Sons, inclines him now to be
As kind to you: his Passion must be true;
In courting you he courts his Safety too.

Prin.
Shall then the Butcher of our Familie
By me, and by my love protected be?
Two Paricides did his foul hands imbrue,
When he his Soveraign in his Nephew slew.
Shall I be Instrumental to make good
His Power cemented by my Brothers Blood?
No Madam; If it be my Fate to prove
The object of his Cruelty, or Love,
It shall not be my choice to have a Room
In his loath'd Bed, but in my Brother's Tomb.

Queen.
'Tis true, a Sister's Love in some degree
May these transports of Passion justifie;
Yet in a Sister's Love you should not smother
The duty, which you owe a tender Mother.
My Sorrows, as my losses, are not less,
Then yours, though I their angry noise suppress;
And though I suffer not with blind Despair
A Mother's Grief to drown a Mother's care.
Daughter, submit: When I prescribe the way
Of safety, you in Duty must obey.

Prin.
The way prescrib'd does not to safety carry;
This Tyrant's Bed makes a bad Sanctuary.

Queen.
Were you a private Person, did you stand
Secure out of the reach of his Command,
I should agree with you; But 'tis your Fate,
His Love to suffer, or to feel his Hate:
No middle way can these Extreams avoid,
By him you must be marry'd, or destroy'd.

Prin.
Joyn'd with my Brothers in their silent Grave,
Losing my Life, I shall my Honour save.

Queen.
When you abandon Reason's steddy ground,
Honour is nothing, but an empty sound,
'Tis a false light, at which fools gazing stand,
Till they themselves on their own shallows strand.

[Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Madam, the King does in your Lodgings wait.

Queen.
Tell him I come. Before it be too late,
[Exit Servant.
Preserve your self, and me; live, and obey:
Throw not your Life, Heavens chiefest gift, away.
[Exit Queen.

Prin.
A Mother, and a Tyrant joyn to force
My plighted heart to an unjust Divorce:
But, Richmond! the Temptation of a Crown
Shall not divert me, nor a Tyrant's frown:
I'le follow thee, whom powerful Heaven does lead
To save the living, and revenge the Dead.
[Exit Princess.