University of Virginia Library

ACT the Fifth.

The Trumpets play an overture of Victory: Then Enter King Edward, Duke of Gloucester, Warwick, and Lords; Lord Dacres, and several other Prisoners.
Edw.
'Tis done, the business of the War is done.
The House of Lancaster has yielded back,
The honours unjustly they usurp'd in storms,
The Red Rose folds up her silken leaves,
And sinks beneath a Sea of blood; from whence
Our's the White emblem of Peace arises,
And shall bless the Land with plenty; henceforth
English Swords shall be no more sheathed
In English bosoms: in Foreign Lands we'll search
For new Acquests of Glory, for when our native
Earth is reduced with the Blood of those we
Call our Foes; we must blush to think
They shou'd have been our Brethren.

Warw.
Then after Conquest let 'em be so received,
To shew the War was just, shun cruelty.

Edw.
Far be it from my Nature, or if it were,
I wou'd submit to you, the mighty Warwick;
Whose very name brought Victory, whose Sword
Has led me on to all the Honours I have won.

Warw.
I am not used to flatter, yet must say,
A thousand eyes can witness that you fought
Almost beyond the power of Man,
Nor did your Brothers lag behind; thrice did I
Follow Clarence's rash inadvertency,
Which plung'd him headlong midst their thickest Troops,
Yet the bold youth despis'd my aid,
And with deaths a round him clear'd his way.

Glou.
I gave that fury to his arm,
When the imprison'd Lyon was let loose,
And told that Thyrrold was amongst our Foes.

Warw.
Why does he shun the glory's of this day,
And having shar'd the danger, refuse the Triumphs,
Which are to his valour due?

Edw.
That's a melancholy story,
But time will wean him of his follies:
My Lord Dacres, I think you've long been
Chamberlain to the late Queen, Catharine I mean.

Dac.
I have,
And wish more to express my Loyalty,
My blood was mingled with theirs whose brave Souls,
Now are mounted upwards, tho' their bodies
Lie weltring on the plain.

Edw.
Only do me Justice in your Reports,
And take your Liberty, hast to your afflicted Queen:
And tell her, Revenge, the insatiable Monster,
Now is gorg'd, and shall towards her for ever sleepe
Where e'er she chooses, there uninterrupted,
And in Peace she shall remain.

Dac.
I wou'd not, King,
(For that title now thou hast purchas'd)
Take a favour where I never mean to make returns:
Yet thus far my Age and Sorrows force me
To promise, no more to lift a Sword against thee;
I've seen the ruin of my Royal master's Race,
And in some Cell I'll not repine at thee,
But mourn their hard fate for ever.
(Exit Da.

Edw.
A truly honest man:
Nor wou'd power or perswasion bend him;
Loyalty is like Religion, that we suck in first,
Tho' with the strongest Arguments assail'd,
Most hardly is remov'd, on the Prisoners
In the List, see execution done,
The rest be guarded with effectual care,
Now let the sound of Victory fore-run us,
To every Quarter of the Camp, whilst we
Receive our well deserving Soldiers,
With Praise and Love.

[The Trumpets sound again. Exeunt.
Manent Gloucester, and a Servant.
Glou.
Thus far we have done well; the Clouds are
Vanish'd, and the bright Sun of Glory shines, but 'tis
Upon my Elder Brothers, and what's all this to me?
Edward and Clarence, two goodly spreading Oaks,
If both stand fair, I must expect no growth.
This Letter, as from an unknown hand, lays all the
Odium of his Imprisonment upon the King, and
What will touch him nearer, his Mistress loss;
Who by this time is married to Thyrrold, or worse,
For he had unbounded license; the Contents of the
Paper send him thither too; I am sure the Plot's
Well laid, and must produce some mischief, which
Ever way it makes for me: Here, trusty Friend,
With your usual Caution, get this deliver'd to the
Duke of Clarence.

Serv.
It shall, Sir?
[Exit Serv.

Glou.
Were it alone to fight for
Kingdoms, a well made thick Skull'd Hero might
Excell me, but to keep the Engine of the mind
At work by a deep thought, to do the
Business, and turn the fools Swords upon each other,
There I exceed the brawny Fellows and show my
Master piece.

[Exit.
SCENE, the Castle.
Enter Thyrrold, Isabella, and a Priest.
Thyr.
Nay, Madam, struggle not, what was before
Perverseness, now will become a Sin, you know you
Are my wedded Wife.

Isa.
Horrid prophaner of Heav'ns Laws, and ruiner
Of me! did I not fly from thy detested hands;
And call the Saints to witness, I wou'd never joyn
Thee? speak, Holy Father, tho' ancle deep, thou art
Not plunged all o'er in Sin, was that a Marriage,
When my Screams rent the Sacred Chappel, and
When my spirit quite exhausted, I lay in
Dreadfull swounings, on the cold pavement.

Pri.
You will not hear me out: I say, 'twas by
Compulsion, yet 'twas your stubbornness
Occasion'd it, and since 'tis for the good of both,
I pronounce it valid.

Isa.
Say not so; Holy Father, you shou'd
Protect injur'd innocence; Oh, do not leave
Me, stay, I conjure you stay?

Pri.
Madam, I cannot, pray loose your hold, business
Of Importance calls me hence.

Thyr.
Slip thro' the Files, and hid 'em guard the
Passage well. Look up my fair Bride.
(Exit Priest.
Be nice and coy no more, for spight of all your
Coldness, ye now are mine.

Isa.
'Tis false, if there be Guardian Angels, if the
Just powers take note of holy vows, already
Made, they will assist my helpless cries, and keep
Me from the curse of being thine? yet hear me,
Thyrrold, since Villany has born the mask of Love,
Thus far I forgive thee, quit me now, and leave
The reward of such a kindness to one who
Owns a generous Soul.

Thyr.
Have my Rival thank me! is't not so? were your
Beauty no greater than your Politicks, it had never
Come to this. What, be a Traytor to that Queen,
Who from my youth had foster'd me, draw the
Noble Tudor's blood upon my head, and then give
Back the price, for which I stak'd my Soul.

Isa.
Tudor dead? Oh I must prepare to suffer,
My Queens curse hangs justly o'er me.

Thyr.
All you can imagine horrid, is past; but all
To come, is pleasing? Pleasing, oh the poor expression!
Transports and Extasies.

Isa.
Agonies beyond the bearing, and visited again
On you: yes, Conscience will retort it back with
Clamours never to be husht, and stings uncurable.
Think on that, vile man?

Thyr.
Think and look on you, impossible! the kindled
Fire mounts my veins, and I have already lost the use of
Thought: Oh I will pour upon thee with desires, that
Shall melt thy frozen heart, or cool at least my
Burnings

Isa.
Where am I, in what dreadfull vision, transplanted
To a barbarous clime. England ne'er brought forth
Such a Monster, there must be help. My voice shall
Wake some pitying Creature.

Thyr.
Again you judge me foolish; no my joys are well
Secured, the generous Gloucester for my Treasons gave
Me thee, since nothing else cou'd tempt me, and with
A Guard Alcides, if such a one there were, cou'd
Hardly pass; look that way and behold from this the
Highest Lodgings of the Castle, the steps all lined
With men arm'd and resolute, therefore consent,
Comply, let me receive from kindness, what I
Can from power. Give me thy Charms, or let me seize
'Em; one way or other, I must be blest.

Isa.
Hold, Sir, as ever you have heard of Vertue or
Religion, for, sure you must have heard of both.
Tho' you ne'er practis'd the beatick rules, remember
There will come a time when these mad passions,
That buoy your blood up to Rapes and Mischiefs, must
Sink with fainting nature; when the bowl can
Chear no more; then, Oh, reflect the horror to
Look back on a lewd dessolute life, and forward on
Eternity.

Thyr.
Fair preacher, I shall find out better use for
Those soft lips, than Canting thus; let me close
Their pretty railing and warm 'em to a smile.

Isa.
Stand off. By all my fears and woes, I feel a strength
Celestial in my resolution, approach not, do not
Move a hairs breadth, for if thou dost, I'll be reveng'd
On those curst eyes, that lighted up thy Impious
Love, with these hands tear out the hated balls,
And dash 'em bleeding in thy face, when our bodies
Yield our minds swerve first, but I can stop
My breath and die, yes, Traytor, I both can and dare.

Thyr.
Oh, Isabella? where's now the Dove-like sweetness,
Which first catch'd my Soul, I see by those furious
Beams, those angry threatned threatning eyes dart
On me, I can ne'er be blest, yet do not think;
Your menaces cou'd stop me: for, know my power's
So great, that I cou'd force upon you life and love, or the
Effects of Love, but since I see that force wou'd
Never be forgiven, that I shou'd never come to
Those dear arms, a welcome guest perhaps, upon
Some terms I may desist.

Isa.
Ha! what said ye, at such a goodness how soon
Shou'd I forget my terrors, and turn all my
Curses, into prayers and blessings.

Thyr.
Talk not of blessing, when I lose you, I lose all
Hopes of happiness, here, or hereafter, therefore like
The Foe of human kind, fain wou'd I sink
My Rival down to my Perdition.

Isa.
What mean you?

Thyr.
Only this, that if I send you untouch'd and safely
To the Queen, you never hold with Clarence
Interviews, Discourse, or any sort of
Correspondence more.

Isa.
Oh Heavens.

Thyr.
Start ye at this then, you shall straight be seiz'd,
Drag'd to yon Apartment, and the curst happy youth,
If you survive, as no doubt you will,
Shall have but the leavings of my Fires?
What! hoa!

Isa.
Stay a moment, what must I swear?

Thyr.
Wish that Contagion may seize this beauteous
Body, and Furies haunt your Soul, when you consent to wed him.

Isa.
Alas!

Thyr.
Nay I allow no pause, resolve on one or other.

Isa.
Then be witness Heaven, which unassisting sees
My sufferings here, I bid adieu to him and all mankind.

Thyr.
This is not enough, kneeling repeat the Imprecation,
Diseases and Despair destract ye, when ever you
Receive him, for your Lord swear to damnation. Swear?

Isa.
This is cruel usage, Thyrrold, to force upon my gentle
Nature, dreadfull oaths which I have still abhorr'd.

Thyr.
Just now you cou'd rage at me,
Your gentle nature quite forgot. Swear, or all my rage
Returns with less Love and double Fury.

Isa.
Then as I hope for rest when this tormented soul
Takes its flight, he never shall possess his Isabella?

Thyr.
Ha, ha, ha, now I find you are to be Conquer'd.
In giving up your Love, you have given up that Resolution,
Which shockt me, and since he never shall enjoy you,
'Tis but fit I shou'd supply his room;
Come this way, no more preambles nor strugglings.

Isa.
Yes, whilst I have life? Oh that as I have in
Fables read, I cou'd in very truth be turn'd into a stone,
A tree, or any senseless Mass.

Thyr.
Your senses shall be Banquetted. If you strive
More I must make use of ruder hands,
I wou'd not willingly expose my Wife.

Isa.
Give me to Tygers to any thing but thee.
Is no Compassion near? Help, help.

Clashing of Swords.
Clar.
[Within.]
Give way, give way: He dies,
Whoever dares approach my fury.

Thyr.
Quitting Isa.]
Ha betray'd!

[drawing his sword.
Isa.
Oh, I will meet that voice thro'
All the glittering dangers that my Eyes behold.

Thyr.
Stand back, you run on pointed Swords.

Isa.
No matter, I shall not now be forced.

[As Clarence with his followers fights his way in, Isabella is stab'd.
Isa.
Ah me, it was unkind, but I shall soon find ease.

[Falls:
Thy.
Oh rash adventurer, let 'em come, all the
Prize is lost.

[kneels to help her.
Enter Clarence, Thyrrold's men fly.
Clar.
Thanks worthy men, who have ventured thus
Your lives for my revenge.
[Sees Thyr. and Isa.
Ha! an Angel coupling with a Fiend!
Rise Villain and meet my Sword.
Or thus I'll send thee to thy native Hell.

Thyr.
I won't fight, you are the Brother of my King
If you kill me you know your Pardon's sure,
Shou'd I but draw the blood of you I stand Condemn'd.

Clar.
Poor and Precarious will ye not fight for Isabellassa?

Thyr.
She is not worth it now, your honour will not
Let you strike a naked Bosom, and I'll make no defence.

Clar.
Oh most detested baseness, live, drag on
That shamefull life, but fly lest I am tempted
With thy loathed sight to an unmanly deed.

Thyr.
Yes, I will live to act more mischiefs, if I
Judge my Master right, that set me on to this:
It may fall on thee.
Torturing Love shall fill my Breast no more,
But rage and enmity possess my mind,
To vex and ruin the race of human kind.
(Exit Thyr.

Clar.
Oh guilty, guilty Isabella?
Well may'st thou fall on Earth, and hide thy eyes,
Which dare not sure look up to Heaven, after all
These Perjuries, yet rise, follow with haste the choice,
Which thou prefer'st to doting Clarence, and let me
No more behold thy fatal Beauties: 'tis true,
I did come mad with a resolve to kill thy Husband,
His Cowardice has prevented me? Oh ye cruel powers,
Cou'd he find no other bosom to blush away
His shame in, but my Isabella's, mine adored,
Thou dost not stir nor answer me, and oh,
I dare not raise thee, but to touch thy hand,
Wou'd fire my soul, and set me into wild distraction,
And therefore away, yet wilt thou not move,
And oh, I feel a Mothers earning on me
Towards an erring Child:
I must gaze upon thee, tho' it gives me death:
Ha! death indeed?
Who has done this, my love is pale and bleeding.

1. Foll.
Alas, how came she wounded?

Clar.
And I curst Villain, worse than Thyrrold,
Instead of help have wasted time in my reproaches,
Assist, Oh! softly, softly, touch my dying Love.

(rasing her.
Isa.
reviving.)
Where am I; I'll none of Thyrrold:
Let me go, let me go?

Clar.
What means all this, O look and speak to thy Clarence,
What wicked practices have been acted here:
How came this streaming Wound; fly for some help.

Isa.
'Tis he, 'tis he!
Oh I will throw my Virgin arms about thy neck,
Unus'd to such embraces,
But I've been frighted, Clarence, and here I will
Recover Peace.

Clar.
Oh my Souls Comfort, my hearts Joy,
Whom I'll suspect no more, this ardor does
Convince me of thy truth, but Oh Almighty love!
Now cannot save us,
Whilst thus you bless me with your kindness,
Your Life, your precious Life expires.

Isa.
No matter, let it go, alas I am weary on't:
Stand back, I had forgot, I have sworn never
To see thee more, but that's no matter neither;
I am going where there is no oppression,
No injustice, there I shall be forgiven,
This last pleasure dying in my Clarence arms.

Clar.
To all my Countries happiness
I must for ever bid adieu, it has
No longer date than this poor breath of thine,
Which pants and heaves thy labouring Breast,
And grows each moment shorter: Oh Isabella,
Must we part for ever, wretch that I am
Bankrupt in Love, can I speak that and live?

Isa.
Still so kind; then prithee tell me,
Whilst I have sense to ask it, why when half dead
With fears, I to Malavill deliver'd up the Key,
You sent your cruel Brothers, to the ruin of
The Queen and me.

Clar.
Didst thou then see Malavill?

Isa.
I did.

Clar.
Curst be his memory; it is enough to
Say that we both have been betray'd,
Which, when I forgive ye Brothers,
Dogs gnaw the flesh of Clarence,
Some death horrid and unusual seize me—
And send me quick into Perdition.

Isa.
Oh my Plantagenet, oh my lovely dear?
Whose form my dying eyes pursue, tho now
They dance in mists give me not greater pangs,
Than what death brings, when I am dead, as soon
I shall be, for I feel the cold Tyrant creep
O'er all my limbs, my heart holds out
A little longer to charge thee not to Quarrel
With the King for me;
I cannot die in Peace to leave my love in danger.

Clar.
Excellent goodness, unexampled patience,
Oh thou art going and I behold it.

Isa.
I am indeed, yet I have one thing more to ask,
Let me be born to the Queen, I've wronged
And lay my dead body at her feet,
Too poor the expiation of her sorrows, the fatal
Ruines which my head-long passion caus'd.

Clar.
And I, curst I, the black occasion.

Isa.
Oh no, thou ever wert my hearts desire,
And may'st thou still remain blest as thou hast been,
By me beloved, have mercy Heaven on my Youth,
Forgive my errors and receive me.

(Dies.
Clar.
My Isabella, my Love, still there is life,
Her lips have still a lively warmth, I'll have her body
Thus Embalm'd, and kneel for ever by her side;
Where is thy rosie breath retir'd, thou morning
Sweetness, thus early snatcht long before thou hadst
Reach'd the noon of life, but hold, I had forgot my
Friends: I pray retire I have some unmanly mournings
Which the gust of grief for this fair Saint requires,
That will admit of no Spectators, wait without:
Anon I'll call ye?

Foll.
I fear, what he intends yet dare not
Contradict him, but will send one
That has more power.

Clar.
Oh my Isabella! we will part no more,
Let the Bugbear death, fright guilty men,
Fright those wretches, that brought thy Beauties
To this untimely paleness.
One kiss, cold as Winters Frost
On the first peeping Flowers,
Thou perfect sweetness hover a little, or if thou hast arriv'd
The blissfull seats, make intercession there for me,
And for this death which violent passion
Plunges me upon.

(Goes to fall upon his Sword.
Warwick enters, and strikes it away.
Warw.
Are you a man?

Clar.
A man, my Lord; yes, that's my Curse! that's
My Misfortune: but were I a nobler being,
At such a loss, at such a sight,
'Twou'd break the temper of an Angelick frame,
And set the Immortal on eternal ravings.

Warw.
Leave your Romantick Style, and desperate
Thoughts, I find there was foul play; had you trusted
Me, it might have been prevented; but since 'tis past,
Be calm: I wou'd not have the world say,
I chose to my Friend a Lunatick, and that's the
Kindest name we give self-murderers.

Clar.
I am so, and surely the soonest mad men
Are destroy'd, 'tis best: nay, shou'd you perswade me
To be reconciled to life, you'd but preserve it for
The Hangmans hands; if I live the King's not safe:
Treason and Parricide will be my practice.
That dead lovely Image will dwell upon my memory,
And still excite me to revenge; no, she can
Never be forgot, unless I plunge my self in Riots;
Renounce my reason and remembrance,
And leave to Fame a blotted story.

War.
Is all your Mothers piety and carefull Lessons
Quite forgot? Oh Clarence, it wou'd prove a dreadfull
Case, to play the Hero here, and find the Christians
Punishment beneath.

Clar.
'Tis worse to live on in black despair, and sin
Beyond forgiveness: Return my Sword, for I
Will hear no more.

Warw.
Do not provoke me to expose your Follies:
Your extravagancy is yet unknown,
Think of revenge, live to accomplish that,
In that I will assist ye, rather than
See you fall.

Clar.
Ay now thou speakest indeed, and charmest me
Into life; won't thou help me in the Just work;
Pull the aspirers down, who, without cause,
Plotted the destruction of me and all my Joys?

War.
Carry this fair Maid to the Queens apartment
And of her death give there a just account.

Clar.
Must she then go? Is that necessary
To our contract of revenge?

War.
Draw off your Friends, and to my Castle
Bend your way: into this business strict enquiry
Shall be made; yes, you shall have Justice!

Clar.
Nay, by Heaven I will, by Warwick (another
Oath) I will; but can Astrea, can Justice restore
Her back again? No, 'tis impossible:
Therefore to Wilds and Seas I will remove,
And taste no comfort since I've lost my love.

[Ex.
The Curtain falls: Enter Lord Dacres and Esperanza.
Esp.
My Lord, you're come to meet news as sad
As what you bring; to see a wretched Court,
The very Epitome of sorrow, and the lovely Queen,
Chief Mourner? who for her Tudor slain,
In destraction raves away the hours she hates,
And from her kneeling Servants refuses either
Counsel or Support, the fair Isabella too,
Is forc'd we know not where or to what Fate.

Dac.
'Tis from examples like to these, we ought
To learn there's no stability below,
For if these who did command vast Empires,
Whose eyes cou'd see no limits to their
Extended sway, yet when the mouldring earth
Was theirs, cou'd not secure a lasting happiness;
What Emet, what Mole, but Man, wou'd heave,
And work on in darkness, still living on fates decoy,
Deluding hope; yet never reach the expected day,
That brings us Joy Sincere;
Show me this Royal sadness,
The torrent of whose griefs I'll strive to calm,
Tho' 'tis impossible to dry the source.

Curtain rising, discovers Queen Catharine sitting on a Couch, with Herbs and Flowers by her, attended.
Cat.
Here, give me more, more of the Cypress, and
That grave shading yew, let the Carnutions lose their colour,
And display the blooming Rose in some black die,
Till I've made my Garland
Dark as my Woes, and Dismal as my Despair?

Dac.
Ha! 'is worse than I expected, Oh Henry! it
Is not given sure for those above to view their
Friends beneath, if 'twere this sight wou'd interrupt
Thy Peace, and turn shee a Sympathizing mourner
'Midst the blest.

Cat.
Who's there, my Lord Dacres?

Dac.
Your ready Servant, who weeps to see the
Majesty of France and England thus employ'd?

Cat.
You think me mad! alas, Sir, I am not so happy:
Indeed I'm trying, 'fast as e'er I can to obtain
The blessing; but yet, I remember that Tudor
Was, that he was, faithfull, lovely, good, and
Murder'd for all that, yes, at my feet he fell—
Come all ye Bedlam wretches, shake your horrid
Chains, grin and scream around me, 'till my
Brains are quite o'erturn'd; let me feel all your
Stripes, and wants, and straw, so I am rid of the
Racks my mind indures: the Trumpets when
They sounded Edward's Victorious entrance, here
Were such Musick—yet that will not do!

Dac.
What shall I say, words but augment the wounds,
They cannot cure; to tell this Royal fair, that
She once had temper, that she bore my great
Masters loss with Saint-like patience, to urge
That now, alass, is vain!

Cat.
True, Dacres; for that was the work of Heaven,
And Heaven gave me patience: but this is Hell;
All Hell, and 'tis from thence I rave.

Dac.
Fain I wou'd injoyn you hear me, I dare not
Give my self so bold a name as Friend.

Cat.
Friends, I've none, if thou pretend'st to ought,
Be gone, and leave me: Leave me to earth and
Deep despair; death and destruction are the
Only Friends I chuse. Here will I fall; strow me
With herbs and flowers, then weep
About me as if I were dead: perhaps I may
Grow senseless.

Dac.
Oh deep excess of mourning: to which I have
But one Argument in answer: come forth ye
Charming little ones, and raise your drooping
Mother.

[He leads in the Queens Children in Mourning.
Cat.
rising.]
Ha!

Dac.
Kneel, sweet Images of lovely Catharine! kneel!
Speak not, but heave your little hands for
Mercy, 'tis the Queen alone can save you; whilst
She lives France is potent, and must be fear'd
If violence is offer'd; but your Protectress gone
You may be swallowed in the Whirpool of
Ambition, and the crime forgot: See how their
Infant eyes are wet with tears, they are frighted,
Tho' they do not know for what.

Cat.
Oh, Dacres! Dacres! why hast thou done this?
Now I do remember, Tudor's words, his last
Desire, that I shou'd live for them, raise 'em
From Earth, their tender knees will ake; no,
Let 'em kneel on, they are born slaves, and
Must, perhaps, be much longer compell'd to
Do their duty.

Dac.
Now by the Soul of my great master, by Royal
Henry, I read in these small lines Majestick glory!
Methinks I am inspir'd to say, from these branches,
Shall come a noble stock of Princes, which must Bless,
And Wed, and intermixing, heal the distracted Land,
Behold the Queen and Tudor's blooming grace,
Nature her self can scarce make such another face.

Cat.
Oh bring 'em near me, thou Oracle, thou soul
Of goodness, do what thou won't with me and them.

Dac.
Upon the banks of Silver Thames, there is a
Monastery which seems as built for retiring Princes, so
Quiet, and so neatly form'd, near the Metropolis it
Stands, there you may live in peace, my self will quit
All further thoughts of Business, or of State, and if I
Once inquire into the World, it shall be only for
Your safety, and the good of these!

Cat.
I thank thee, Dacres, and, I thank Heaven I am
Compos'd.

Enter Esperanza.
Esp.
Oh horror! accumulated sorrows, like rowling
Billows, heap upon us still.

Dac.
Peace, the Queen but now is calm, disturb her
With no new affliction?

Cat.
I stand prepar'd, there's nothing now can shock
Me; Speak!

Esp.
The lovely Isabella is brought dead, the bearers
Say, her last request was your Forgiveness, that
She might be laid at your Royal feet, and your
Majesty wou'd pardon her unwilling fault.

Cat.
Oh Esperanza! too late you told me of her
Intended flight, Love was her only crime, yet she proved
Fates cruel Instrument of my undoing, why
This was, why so ordained is beyond mortal inquiry,
And I shou'd submit.
Where is the poor unhappy Maid? alas!
But she is past it all, and
Now finds rest; for if soft Innocence can reach
The bright Æthereal seats; she's surely there
Give order for our instant March; let her Corps
Precede the dismal journey, and let us follow as
Those sad Friends their best beloved to the last
Stage, the Grave.
My Dacres, that's the sure reception of us all,
But they sleep best who do with honour fall.

[Exeunt Omnes.
Enter Edward, Duke of Gloucester, and Officers.
Edw.
She's gone, and with her go all that ever
Discompos'd my Soul, now to Glory and his Country's
Good, Edward wholly will devote himself: let us
towards London take our triumphant way;
That City in whose favour we are blest.

Glou.
You, I suppose, have heard that Clarence
Proclaims his wrongs a loud, that Warwick owns his
Cause, and with a Guard has sent him to his Castle.

Edw.
Towards that rash Prince, my Lords, we doubt
Not to approve our self a Friend and Brother; if
Warwick sides with him, tho' he stands high
In our esteem, yet we wo'n't fear the Warrior,
Nor call the work of Heaven his alone.
Kingdoms are given by the powers above,
And the chief blessing is our peoples love:
Whilst we are just, they ought and must be kind,
No Cement does so fast as Justice bind.