University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

A dark Wood.
Enter Clause and Harrol.
Clau.
By this time, sir, I hope you want no reason
Why I break off your marriage; for tho' I
Should, as a subject, hold you for my prince
In general things, it will not yet too far
Discredit you t'acknowledge me your father,
And hearken to my necessary councils.

Har.
Acknowledge you my father! Sir I do—
And may all peace and comfort leave my heart
When I forget to pay you a son's duty!

Clau.
I pray you rise—
And may those powers, who see, and love this in you,
Reward you for it! Taught by your example,
Having received the rights due to a father,
I tender you th'allegiance of a subject,
Which, as my prince, accept of.

Har.
Kneel to me!
I am your son, sir, and am prouder far
To be the son of such distinguish'd worth,
(Which Heaven be pleas'd I may inherit from you)
Than I e'er could be of those splendid titles
Left by my mother, which assert my claim
To Flanders' earldom.

Clau.
I do believe it.

Har.
Oh! my lov'd father!
Before I knew you were so, nature taught me
Instinctively, to look upon your wants
Not as a stranger's—And, I know not how,
What you call'd charity, I thought the payment
Of some religious debt nature stood bound for.

Clau.
Cease, cease, my Florez. At your mother's death
Your tender age, and the troubles of the times
Making your stay in Flanders dangerous,
(My power alas! was small. Possessing none
But what your gracious mother's favour gave me
Receiving to her state a private gentleman)
I sent you into England, and there placed you
With a brave Flanders merchant, call'd rich Harrol,
Who some years after settling here in Bruges,
And dying here, left you his name and fortune,
As his reputed son, and still received so;
But now as Florez, and a prince, remember
Your country's and your subject's general good
Must challenge the first part in your affection.
That fair maid, whom you chose to be your wife,
Being so far beneath you, even your love
Must own the match ill-suited,

Har.
In descent,
Or borrow'd glories from dead ancestors,
I must acknowledge it—but in her virtues,
A monarch might esteem himself o'erpaid,
Were she his kingdom's price. In this alone
Be an indulgent father, in all else
Use your authority.

Enter Hubert, Wolfort, Hempskirke, and Gertrude.
Hub.
Sir, here are two of them,
The father, and the son—the rest you shall have,
As fast as I can rouse 'em.

[Exit.
Clau.
Who's this? Wolfort?

Wol.
Ay, impostor,
Your coarse disguise no longer can conceal you;
No further art, for I must here find Gerrard,
And in this merchant's habit, one call'd Florez,
Who fain would be an earl.

Har.
And is, wert thou a subject.

Ger.
My Harro! turn'd a prince!
O! I am poorer by this start of greatness,
Than all my fears and sorrows ever made me.

Har.
My Gertrude! whence? why do I see you here?
O! think what—

Wol.
Stay, sir,—you were to day too near her;
You must no more aim at these close endearments,
Nor long survive such bold presumption! Hempskirke,
Summon the officers of blood.

AIR.
Ger.
kneeling.
Oh! spare my Harrol! spare my love!
Let these streaming sorrows move;
Restrain the breath
That dooms his death—
Does no good angel see my pain,
And is it thus we meet again?
My Harrol speak,
My heart will break—
On me, on me your torments wreak;—
But spare my Harrol! spare my love!
Let these streaming sorrows move.

Har.
No—death, my Gertrude, can't be half so painful,
As to behold thee kneel, and waste thy tears
On such a fiend—Strike the decisive blow,
And end our shames and miseries together.

Wol.
This is no Gertrude; no no, nor Hempskirke's niece,
Nor Vandunk's daughter. This is Bertha! Bertha,
The heir of Brabant, she that caus'd the war;
Whom I did steal, during my treaty there
While you were yet a child, to raise myself;
Foreseeing that theft wou'd cause a war; that war
Call for my arm to guide it: and the victory
(Which happily I atchiev'd) render my power
Such as might grasp the earldom—This obtain'd,
I meant her for my wife; thereby to fix
My empire sure; which had been done ere this,
She come of years, but that the expectation
First of her father's death, retarded it,
And since, the standing out of Bruges, where
Hempskirke he hid her, till she was near lost,
But she is here recover'd.—She is mine, sir,
Your merchantship may break now, I believe,
For this was one of your best ventures.

Clau.
Insolent devil!

Wol.
Hempskirke, who are these?

Hem.
More, more, sir.

Enter Hubert, with Ginks, Ferret and Jaculin.
Hub.
Lord Arnold of Benthuesen—this lord Costin,
This Jaculin, the sister unto Florez.

Wol.
All found? Why here's brave game, this is sport royal!
This spot, where they are taken, will I make
Their place of death.—Dispatch this moment.

Hub.
Or suppose, my lord,
They shou'd be broken up upon a scaffold,
Will't not shew better?

Fer.
Wretch! art thou not content thou hast betray'd,
But thou must mock us too?

Gink.
False Hubert! murderer!

Wol.
Hubert!

Hemp.
Who, this?

Ginks.
Yes, this is Hubert, Wolfort.
I hope he has help'd himself to a tree.

Wol.
The first,
The first of all; I'm glad again to catch you,
I let you go before but as a spy,
Now, as a spy I'll treat you.

Hub.
Nay, then I'll ring my own death's knell.

Hubert sounds his Horn loud and quick; Drum answers within. Vandunk, Prig, Higgen, Soldiers, and all the Beggars rush on, seize and disarm Wolfort, Hempskirke, and their Party.
Wol.
Betray'd!

Hub.
No, but well caught, and I the huntsman!
Now shall I wind your fall? and Hempskirke's there?

Hig.
We have led your squadrons, sir, where
They have torn their legs and faces soundly.

Prig.
Yes, and run their heads against trees.

Hig.
We have filled a pit with your people;
Some with legs, some with arms broken.

Prig.
And a few necks, I think, are out.

Hig.
'Tis captain Prig, sir.

Prig.
And colonel Higgen.—

Van.
How do you, Wolfort? Rascal! tyrant Wolfort!
I speak it now above the rose—and Hempskirke,
Rogue-Hempskirke! you that have no niece! this lady
Was stolen by you, and hid by you; but now
Resign'd by me to the right owner here—
Take her, my prince.

Har.
Are then these blessings real?

Ger.
And shall we part no more?

Van.
I have given her to you twice—now keep her better,
And thank lord Hubert, who contriv'd our plot,
And in good Gerrard's name, sent for Vandunk,
General Vandunk—

Hub.
Conqueror Vandunk.

Van.
AIR.

Van.
Give me my bottle, and set down the drum;
I'll sit as judge upon 'em—you stole the lady.

Clause.
'Twas like yourself, honest and noble Hubert!
Canst thou behold these mirrors, all together,
Of thy long, false, and bloody usurpation,
And not behold thyself, and so fall down,
O'erwhelm'd with sorrow, shame, and penitence?

Wol.
Who, I repent?
And say I'm sorry! No—'tis the fool's language,
But not for Wolfort.

Van.
Wolfort, thou art a devil, and speak'st his language.
Oh! that I had my longing for thy sake!
Under this row of trees, the spot your lordship
Meant for these worthy ones, I'd hang thee instantly.

Har.
No, let him live, until he can repent,
But banish'd from our state—that be his doom.

Van.
Then hang his worthy captain here, this Hempskirke,
For sake of the example.

Har.
No, let him
Enjoy his shame too, with his conscious life.

Van.
A noble prince! and yet I'd fain have somebody hang'd.

Clause.
Sir, you must help to join
A pair of hands, as they have done of hearts,
And to their loves wish happiness.

Har.
As to my own!
My dearest sister! truly worthiest brother!

AIR.
Jac.
Such scenes of strange delight arise,
And croud upon my view,
I gaze around with wild surprize,
And scarce believe true.
A father! brother! lover! friend!
Of joy a larger store,
Nor Hope could ask, nor Fortune send—
My cup of bliss runs o'er.

Van.
I'll lead ye home, and have the bonfires made,
My fireworks and flap—dragons—and an ocean
Of generous liquor, to soak down,
To the honour of this day.

Hig.
'Slight! here be changes! the bells have not so many.

Prig.
Our company's grown horrible thin by it.
What think you, Higgen?

Hig.
Marry, I think that we might all be lords now,
If we'd stand for't.

Clause.
Sir, you must thank this honest burgomaster;
Here be more friends, ask to be look'd on too,
And thank'd; who, though their trade and course of life
Be not so perfect, but it may be better'd,
Have yet us'd me with courtesy, and been
True subjects to me while I was their king.
Your grace command them follow you to Bruges,
Where I will take the care on me, to find
Some manly and more profitable course,
To fit them as a part of the republic.

Har.
Do ye hear, sirs? do so.

Hig.
Thanks to your good grace!

Prig.
To your good lordship!

Har.
Now to compleat our bliss! Be it our care
To merit it, by using well the power,
And wealth entrusted to our charge, to lighten
The woes of others—to enrich our country,
And bid our wishes and endeavours reach
Even to the meanest subject in our state!

Van.
To all the world, say I!