 | Queen Catharine |  |
ACT the Second.
SCENE Ludlow Castle.SCENE draws, discovers Queen Catharine seated: attended by the Lord Dacres, Sir James Tyrell, &c. Ladies. She rises.
Cat.
Tho' Margaret, Daughter only of a titled King;
Who for her Portion brought my wanting Henry,
What he wanted least, expensive Pride:
Tho, she I say, ranks me with her Foes,
Has taken pains to estrange me from the breast,
And fatal Counsels of her ruin'd Husband!
Yet so dear I hold my Son, that to his aid,
I wou'd not spare my Officers of State alone;
Alas! now they are few, succouring him,
My self I'll strip of each menial Servant;
But oh, my Lord, when I Reflect on your departure,
My nature by continual injuries made bold,
Shrinks back, and all my Courage fails me.
Dacres.
The only merit I can plead, is my obedience,
The Creature of your Commands.
Cat.
Wisely and well did thy Great Master choose,
Who dying left me to thy Guardian care;
So perfect has my Loyal Dacres prov'd,
That I dare read thy very thoughts, and pronounce
They never swerv'd one title from my Interest.
Ev'n preferment, that Common bait, and Ruine of a Courtiers
Honesty, cou'd never tempt thee from me, but now!
The sad hour's arriv'd, that calls thee forth:
Thy prudence and thy courage must out
To save a sinking King.
Dac.
O, sacred relick of the first of Heroes!
For what was Alexander, but a Name
Compar'd with our Immortal Henry?
It's true, the first ravag'd o'er effeminate Persia
8
Conquer'd his numerous neighbours, Older much
Than He, and therefore thought more skill'd in Arms:
Fenc'd Towns, nor Armed men cou'd barr his fury,
Which like Groves, darkn'd th'expanded plain;
Thro' treble numbers he forc'd his way to victory;
Doubly blest, subdueing France, and being by you
Subdu'd: Yet in this full tide of Fortune mark,
The weakness of the best of humane frames,
Either the excess of sorrow, or of Joy,
Cracks the strings of life, and we moulder
Into our first nothing; when thousand pious hands
Were lifting up to Heav'n for his safety,
Ev'n then our mighty King expir'd.
Cat.
Well hast thou choos'd this melancholy theam,
It suits our parting, Noble Dacres, well.
Dac.
By Heav'n! I cannot mention that Great Man,
But the vast story dwells upon my tongue;
But now I thought to look a little backwards,
And tell my beauteous Queen the many tyes,
That link me her faithful Slave: when loe!
At the name of Glorious Henry; my words
Flow'd to Encomiums; and left my worthless self forgot.
Cat.
It needs not, Sir, O, could I but reward,
As I remember all thy Services,
How woud'st thou shine, bedeck'd with Royal Favours.
Now thy advice, and then farewell: do you think
The Garrison drawn off, and then my Guard remov'd,
I'm safe, not that I'm mention'd in the War;
But I wou'd not be expos'd to that power, that has
No Justice for its rule.
Dac.
Madam, this Castle was built by Vortigern,
See but the Keys of the Avenues in
Trusty hands; Edward may wast his Army here,
E're give you any cause for a disturbance.
Sir James Thyrrold, to your charge I leave
My Queen; if thou shou'dst prove a Traytor, ah!
How came these words upon my tongue, without
A moments thought.
Tyr.
Without a cause, you shou'd have said, what have
I done to be mistrusted?
Cat.
Thyrrold hold! it was his care for me;
If yours is equal, then you must excuse it.
Adieu, Commend me to Henry and the Queen,
Tell them my endeavours and my Prayers shall still
Attend them.
9
O thou forgiving Virtue! Everlasting Charmer!
Whose sight alone gave thy dying Lord
Transports too great for mortal life to bear.
Here let me fix my parting duty, and
Eternal Blessings Crown thee.
Cat.
Victory, great as thy faith and worth, be thine.
Go, and in my Closet lay the Books I read in last.
[Exit Dacres.
Where's now the crowded Court of Paris,
Rheims, or Windsor, when scarce a passage
Cou'd be made for gazing Princes, and for
Kneeling Subjects; when illustrious Henry
Crown'd the assembly, and supported me.
Yet I agen was happy, my Virgin Love,
The very pride and boast of Nature, Tudor,
My Henry's Soul cast in purer mold;
He was mine, him have they robb'd me of;
And I have nothing left at my command,
But these sad Eyes, which of themselves will flow.
Enter Isabella.
Isa.
[kneeling.]
Angels protect the Queen, may I once prove
The happy Messenger, and stamp that Clouded
Heaven with smiles. From Tudor this?
[Gives a Letter.
Cat.
See, Isabella, see; forgetting his repeated wrongs,
He flies, to the assistance of the ungrateful Margaret;
Am I to blame, now in the wrack of Fate,
When rowling Tempests bear my Glory's down?
Is it a fault, I say, to feel Loves alarm,
Busie at my heart, and dawning Joy
Break on me at his approach?
Isa.
Is it a fault to love the Master-piece of Heaven,
And wonder of the Earth? such Tudor is:
Then, Madam, to you, not the first of humane Race
Was ever half so faithfull or so fond; were all
Mankind like him, believing, Virgins never
Cou'd be ruin'd.
Cat.
He is indeed a Husband, whose unbated passion,
The fiercest new made Lover ne'er can equal;
Here he begs, that thro' that Secret Vault,
Which to the Castle Leads, known but to a trusted few,
He may in private see me. You, dear Isabella,
Have the Important Keys, take the Letter,
Observe the hour, and be carefull.
10
Madam, I will.
Cat.
Why dost thou sigh, my Girl; you dare not make
Your Queen your Confident, yet I have found
The secret of your Soul.
Young Plantagent, whom they call Clarence now,
In our prosperous days, with my allowance, paid his vows to thee:
Love's soft, first Impression hangs about thy heart.
I read it in thy watry eyes? But, oh! I warn thee
Of that rebelling and most treacherous Race:
If thou regardest the safety of thy Queen,
Or thy own future Peace,
Throw from thy thoughts the faithless Fugitive.
I warn thee of him; and when thou'rt warn'd, beware.
[Exit. Cat.
Isa.
And when thou'rt warn'd, beware.
It strikes upon my Soul, and echoes back,
Like the sad voice of Fate. I'll follow streight
The Queen, give her up the Keys, confess
The frailty of my Conquer'd heart;
And see the Lovely, Charming youth no more.
See him no more! what has my Clarence done
So to be punish'd? does he not droop
In midst of Lawrels, Crowns, and Victories?
Or aims he at a Bliss without his Isabella?
Are not his Vows Registred in Heaven?
And every awfull power call'd to witness?
Shall I then forsake him? No:
Be it my ruin, it has a face so pleasing,
I'll fly to plunge into it.
[Is going.
Enter Sir James Thyrrold.
Sir J.
[kneeling.]
Turn, ah! too Lovely, Heavenly maid! let not.
Those eyes, that light the rest of the World
To Joy, dart only on me Confusion; behold
The humble Thyrrold at your feet; hear
The sad tale my Love inspires;
Oh can that sweet form, that looks all softness,
Contain a Savage heart.
Isa.
Presuming Arrogance. Can no Commands
Impose on you eternal silence? yet I'm calm:
But if again you affront me with your sawcy passion,
The Queen shall know it, who, no doubt, will
Protect a Maid committed to her Royal care,
From Insolence like thine.
[Exit.
Sir J.
Eternal ruin seize the Queen and thee,
11
Within this Bosom reign? slighted Love,
Revenge, Rage, Spite, Envy and Ambition;
Sure the damn'd medley must at least produce
A perfect madness. Oh! that as my will
To mischief rises, so my power might;
That I could let the Furies loose, and ravage
All the World.
'Tis Clarence holds her heart, but Gloucester will
Assist, and 'spite of all their fondness blast their
Loves, rather than they shou'd meet.
Let ruin thro' the face of Nature range,
And all things suffer a Destructive Change;
When in that Chaos all mankind shall lie,
There'll not be found a wretch so curst as I.
[Exit.
SCENE, A Grove.
Enter Clarence, and Malavill.
Clar.
With much a-do, I've broke from faithful Warwick,
Who prest me hard to know my fatal sorrows.
This the hour, and this the place,
In which I met my Heavenly Isabella:
Let my ambitious Brothers waste their time,
In climbing up the Royal precipice;
Let Casuists argue the injustice of the War,
Whilst I retiring from the bustling Crowd,
Find my sure bliss in Isabella's eyes;
See! where the brightness darts thro' yonder shades;
So Cynthia lookt, when in Lathmo's Cave
She nightly met Endymion. Oh no! My
Isabella's Beauty will surmount all poets Rapture.
Enter Isabella and her Woman.
O thou balm of Comfort! Soul of sweetness!
Look on me, shoot thy Beams into my bosom,
Talk to me, Charm me into Ecstasie, for
Heaven is my Witness, I never think of Joys
But in thy Presence?
Isa.
O Clarence! the gloomy Stars that rule our fates
Were never sure for Conjunction made;
Distant, alas! and wide they dart their angry Rays;
12
Clar.
At such a thought I'd curse them from their Spheres.
They now are kind, Oh! may my fair one prove so too.
Then this very night they light me on
To endless Worlds of bliss.
Isa.
What means my Lord?
Clar.
Have I been only flatter'd with what alone
My youth has gloried in; or may I trust
The trembling tender accents, that have whisper'd
Thy heart, thy precious heart was mine?
Isa.
When first the Queen bid me look on you
As my destin'd Lord, I thought 'twas duty
Made me regard you, more than all mankind.
But ah! too soon I found that Godlike form,
And the respect you paid; which love alone produces,
Had gain'd the ascendant o'er my Virgin wishes.
If since my eyes have stray'd, or any object
Brought to my thoughts, that offer'd to rebel
Against the awfull power already there
May Heaven, which knows the secrets of my Soul,
Punish me with loss of you and Fame.
Clar.
Bend, ye Celestial Quire; bend down with me,
And bless the Angel you have lent, for breathing
Words like these, that tune and charm my Soul.
By my hopes, were all the merits of our Race,
Cramn'd into one, he durst not plead desert,
A Beam of mercy, the least regard of pity,
Pays an Age of Services. Oh! how wretched am I?
Isa.
Why, my dear Clarence! why does thy bosom heave
With sighs, as the great heart within were rending?
If I have any Charms, if I can please,
Is not all the kindness of my eyes addrest to thee?
Clar.
Therefore, and only therefore do I curse
My Fate, that being blest beyond what
The most Ambitious cou'd have hop'd for,
I yet have more, much more to ask.
E'er my Request is told! Oh Isabella,
Guess what's the Consequence; how it imports
My Life, these Agonies will sure express.
I who have stood pitch'd Battles without one
Shock of Nature, now feel Convulsive tremblings
Seize on every Nerve; nay, thus unmann'd,
Behold me weeping at your feet.
Isa.
What can you who have so much Honour
Fear to ask; or I, who have so much Love,
Refuse to grant? My Lord, as your partial kindness
13
Of your Sex, so wou'd I approve my faith
Above the common rate,
To justifie your choice; speak thou Conqueror,
Propose the way, be it to strip me of these shining
Ornaments, the Pride of Courts, and fly with thee
To Caves, to Huts, and unfrequented shades,
Most readily I will obey.
Clar.
Ha! didst thou say fly with me! By Heaven.
'Tis on that the weight of my Petition hangs.
Can you, dare you, will you be so good,
To trust this tender work of Heaven, this
Matchless softness, never expos'd to ought less gentle,
Than the breeze from flowers? Dare you with me,
Venture tempestuous blasts, regardless Seas,
And all the hazards of Incommodious flight?
Isa.
Yes! my dear Clarence; Love wou'd make me bold,
Fill all my thoughts with thee, and dangers quite forgot,
When thou art ne'er me; But oh! I have another tie,
Duty, Friendship, Gratitude plants me here.
The mourning Queen, whose adversity has shook off
Fawning crowds, must not be left by Isabella.
Clar.
I'll not complain; or urge an Argument
Against that good and all-deserving Queen.
'Tis true, big with my hopes, for what won't Love
Prompt blooming youth to hope, I had prepar'd
A Vessel for our Transportation into France;
You, as a Branch of Burgundy, must needs
Have found a noble welcome in that Court;
And I, as Brother to great England's King
Cou'd have made my own Conditions.
Isa.
England's King, my Lord, is not your Brother.
Clar.
Yes, faithfull charming Maid, he is,
The People's hearts are his, the sickly Forces
Of falling Henry, to morrows setting Sun
In tombs: yet I wou'd fly from these flowing honours,
Which must adorn our Family, and gazing
Upon thee forget Ambition.
Isa.
What do you ask? to what do I incline?
These may not be faithfull, the way, the method,
All like Palaces in Fairy Land,
Impracticable, and only built on fancy.
Clar.
If Love's your guide, the way is very easie,
The secret door, you now have passed, you may
As well command at twelve; there I will wait,
Like the far travell'd Pilgrim, who knows no Peace
14
To whom his vows and oraisons are paid.
Isa.
Alas! I dare not tread those lonely paths,
Thro' hollow Vaults and most horrid Windings,
And at that dreadfull hour of Midnight;
Clar.
Give Malavill the outer Key, and we
Will meet you in the upper Court, nay, fear
Not, dearest, I know him well, born and bred
Amongst us, try'd and faithful as a Brother.
Isa.
Yet Brothers may be false! O my divided Soul,
Can I leave the dear indulgent Queen;
O draw me, Heaven, thro' this Labyrinth!
For Love and Friendship pull me several ways,
Like Cords upon the Rack; which ever way I yield,
No ease is granted to my troubled mind.
Clar.
Return! my soft beloved, Oh return!
Hush thy anxious thoughts a sleep, and think
Of me no more? Edward is indeed inveterate;
And which way ever Victory inclines, we meet no more.
Lead me, O Malavill! Lead me to the Battle.
Fix me in the front, against the ablest Archers fix me;
And let a thousand, thousand darts at once
Pierce this fond heart, which pants in vain for Isabella.
[Sinks on Malavill.
Isa.
Oh! my dear Lord! I'm not worthy half this passion,
My Fear is vanish'd, and my Love is strong.
Command me any thing, I will not raise
Another doubt.
Clar.
Oh! thou all goodness! dearest, sweetest Creature!
Once does wretched Clarence hold thee fast.
Isa.
Say, direct me how I shall proceed, for I will come.
Clar.
Wou't thou indeed?
O! Charming Excellence; oh! all perfection,
The blood that guards my heart leaps to my cheeks,
Fires my eyes, which almost start with passion;
And each crowding word to express my Joys,
Grows thick upon my Tongue.
Isa.
Talk not so wildly, but instruct me in my flight?
Clar.
My life; give to Malavill the Key of that door, thro' which you past.
Isa.
I cannot yet, for that way Tudor enters to the Queen,
Let him two hours hence beneath yon Eastern Tower
Wait, and I will give it him: what ails me
Clarence? Why do I tremble so?
Clar.
Oh! 'tis thy tender gentle nature, which frights
Thy little frame, and makes thee shrink at what
Thy love has promis'd; yet Isabella,
By all my hopes, by the blest Saints,
15
Blast me with Lightning from yon Azure roof,
Rivet me with sure fulfilling bolts, if time
In all its Course
Past or to Come, can ought more faithfull see.
Isa.
Or any Maid, who loves, and dares, like me.
[Exeunt severally.
SCENE the Camp. Enter King Edward, meeting Gloucester.
Ed.
What news, my careful Gloucester?
Glou.
Victory still attends the King; the very Scouts and Forragers
Return, being flush'd and redned with Success.
Edw.
These are all steps to fix us on the Throne;
But still the Root of Lancaster, and Branches too,
Must be remov'd, least building o'er them
We totter, and Clarence be ours or lost.
Glou.
Lost in death e're ruine us. Daring like yours
In not proceeding does backward go;
Fair Isabella consents to Clarence's Follies,
And e're morning hopes to escape.
Edw.
That must be prevented.
Glou.
It shall, the Hammer's lifted here, and when
It strikes, the work is finished. The night
Under her Sable Wings shall hatch such deeds,
Will fright the blushing dawn: Suppose Ludlow Castle yours,
The Queen, on a pretext, that shall seem just,
Remov'd, Tudor slain, either on his March, or else
Within the Walls.
Edw.
Attempt both; they who wou'd succeed, must leave
The least to Chance, and catch at every opportunity.
Glou.
This way Clarence moves, as Malavill informs me,
Here I will stay and meet the fiery youth,
Dash all his quiet with the Fiend Jealousie,
Which Weed, Planted by a cunning hand,
Will quickly grow in the warm soil of his
Fierce passion, and even overshoot the love,
Which he so long has cherish'd.
Edw.
Use him, dear Gloucester as his Folly has
Deserv'd.
Glou.
What Paper's that?
Edw.
A Letter from the forsaken Eleonora.
Glou.
Leave it with me: I have a sudden
Thought it may be usefull.
Edw.
Take it: thou art a perfect Chymist
In extracting ruin. I dare trust all
To thy management.
(Exit.
16
Here comes Natures other Favourite;
Enter Clarence.
'Twas base, 'twas barbarous! the choicest
Beauty of the Nation rifled, and then despis'd.
(Looking upon the Letter.
Clar.
What means my Brother?
Glou.
Your Pardon, Duke of Clarence, I saw you not,
Here's a melancholy complaint
From the wretched Elenora.
Clar.
Her fate is hard, and much my temper
Differs from the King's.
Glou.
That Sacred name raises him above
Our Reprehension, tho' not to him, of him
Who can forbear to speak; that has a Soul
In which true honour has a Residence
Has he not, like the wanton Summer fly,
Blown upon and tainted all our Beauties?
Is there a Maid of Quality or Fortune,
Whom he has not attempted, or at least
Married to some Favourite fawning Minion;
While we the branches too of mighty York,
Only are neglected?
Clar.
The Ladys Case transports you; were I dispos'd
To marry, the King shou'd not chuse for me.
Glou.
My Lord, no choice is left, is there in all the Court,
One of an unsullied fame, whose Beauty, or
Whose Quality is fit for Princes Arms?
Clar.
I'll not dispute the matter, but I think there are.
Glou.
There are! you speak as if they abounded,
Name me but one, and I'll recant in Veneration
To such a rarity; forgive the rest, and touch
Their fames no more.
Clar.
What think you then of beauteous Isabella?
The studied Workmanship and hand of Heaven,
Nothing can transcend her Divine person,
But the unspotted Soul, that dwells within.
Glou.
What Isabella, Queen Catharine's Ward,
Thyrrold's Isabella, is't she you thus extravagantly
Describe.
Clar.
How Gloucester! now I have found thee subtle
In malice, all the workings of thy brain
Are like the dismal Policies of Hell;
Which still produce a mischief.
17
I charge thee do not: For by the sacred blood
That fills her veins, the blood of Bedford and of Burgundy
Both Royal Stems, you shall not dare?
Glou.
Not dare, Prince?
Clar.
No, not dare. Lay all your plots on me;
Cover me all over with detraction, as with a Leprosie,
But touch not Isabella; I will bear it.
Glou.
Go on, my Brother, and when your passion's o'er,
Too late consider, if I've deserv'd this usage.
Clar.
What have I done! how came her name in Question?
Oh! Gloucester, Gloucester! thou art deep and cunning,
I but a shallow stream, and as I stand between,
Shall be surely forded o'er;
Edward and Gloucester both may take my life,
But of my Love, there's neither shall deprive me.
Glou.
I knew not Isabella grew so near you.
'Twas common Fame occasion'd what I said,
That as the Queen, descended to Love Tudor,
So Isabella had made Thyrrold hers.
Rumor's the Child of Error, if I've caught
A Falshood, why shou'd that create a Quarrel.
Clar.
A Quarrel, there is none. The King and you
Possess the glories you atchieve in War,
My happiness lies in another Sphere. Farewell.
[Exit.
Glou.
Happiness is a Rosie path you ne'er shall tread;
The Hornet, I have thrown into your bosom,
It buzzes now: But it shall sting anon.
Dissimulation, thou art mine;
My rage, was high as his, and spite much more: but dear dissimulation
Cover'd all the fury of my Soul, and it shall be vented the safest way.
Enter Malavill.
Mal.
I met the Duke, my master; methought his
Looks were full of discontent.
[Drum beats.
Glou.
I gave it him; hark, a distant Drum is the signal
I order'd at the approach of Tudor: what, ho! Captain,
Enter Captain.
Is the detachment ready?
Capt.
My Lord, it is.
Glou.
Lead them towards the Castle, there as I told you you'll
Meet with Tudor, when you encounter him, if his force,
Is stronger than you expected, urge not too far, at night
18
Capt.
With utmost care your orders shall be obey'd.
[Exit.
Glou.
Will Sir James Thyrrold come to the
Appointed place?
Mala.
He will, and is impatient till he
Knows your Grace's pleasure.
Glou.
Clarence is even to rashness brave, that
Will make forget the nicer forms of
Different Quality; after our Conference,
See me again, if your Lord calls and seems uneasie,
Cast forth doubtfull Words; if Jealousie
Appears, feed it with oyl. I've
Told the King thy merits of thy Intelligence
And Honour waits to Crown thy Service.
Mala.
Thanks, noble Sir, your long tasted Bounty
Secures me still your Slave, I'll to my Lord,
And watch his every motion.
[Exit Mala.
Glou.
Go thy ways, Traytor, that's thy proper name,
Oh! there's a vile Ingredient in our frames;
This Man my Brother Clarence ne'er did injure,
But signalized him with marks of Friendship
Above the rest, who did attend him. Yet,
For a little Gold with eagerness he
Seeks his ruin, an itching Palm destroys his Faith,
Ambition conquers mine:
Interest tempts all, and where she tempts, succeeds.
My great designs, why shou'd I blush to own,
There's no Temptation greater than a Crown.
The End of the second Act.
| Queen Catharine | |