University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

An open Country. A March near Norham Castle.
The Scotish Army.
Perkin and Frion enter apart from the main Body.
Frion.
The King's gone to his Tent and expects you.
Why, Sir, do you retire so gloomily?
As if black Melancholly had seiz'd your Mind?
What is't hangs so heavily on your Spirits?

Perkin.
O Frion, my Catherine, my Wife is lost.
Sorrow hath sunk so deep into her Heart,
That Death,—or silent Madness must ensue.
Since we left Holy-rood, not an Accent
Hath escap'd her faded Lips.—Motionless
She sits; with Eyes fixt as if rivited
To Earth; while Tears insensibly steal down
Her pensive Cheeks, which look like weeping Dew
Fallen on the Statue of Despair.

Frion.
Do, droop; convince the King, his Court and Army,
That your cold, your watery Veins are Bankrupt
Of royal Blood. Convince them you are Impostor,
Who wou'd not fight for such a fertile Isle
As envied Britain.
‘Then do not droop, nor rest till that you die
‘The milky Rose you wear in the luke-warm Blood
‘Of Henry's Heart;’ and the stiff-neck'd sturdy Knaves,
Who now oppose your Claim, be tame and humble
As the dullest Boor that ever trampt in Wood.
Gall them with Yokes till that their stubborn Necks
Bow to the lowest Slave in France, and own
Them for their Masters.

Perkin.
Were I but once upon the Throne I wou'd.
Their free-born Insolence should be forever check'd.
But my dear Katherine makes me inactive;
She hangs about my Heart.

Frion.
Haste, Sir, be gone, the King expects you in his
Tent. Drop, drop the Lover, shake it
From your Heart; and put on th'enkindled Warrior.
Shew the Soldiers you are going to fight
For a Crown; not to die for a Puppet,
A melancholy whining Girl.

[Exit Perkin.
Frion.
This it is to have Concern with Wretches
Born to be Tools. Well! to change Nature's Bent
I see is not in the Power of Art;
If it had,—this Perkin might have been e're this
As valiant as Cæsar, and as courtly
As sportful Anthony. The united Skill
Of France and Rome have joyn'd to form his Mind;
The Clergy indeed have discharg'd their Part
Effectually; for he tells his Tale
With as specious and smooth Hypocrisy
As our Church can boast. But for his Courage
He is as great a Stranger to it as he
Is to Royalty.
But I must not be absent lest he betray
The Milkiness of his coward Liver.

[Exit.