University of Virginia Library

ACT V.

Scene.—The Bear Garden illuminated for a fete and concert. Night. In the centre a raised platform on which Singers, Rob Morton among them, are standing. Groups of people pass over the stage. Among them Ned Truscott, Paul Ferrers, Abraham, and others.
Glee. Rob and Chorus.
The merry feet that twinkle in the maze
Of courtly measure;
The happy voices that do tune their lays
For mirth and pleasure;—
Join with us all to-night,
Where lamps shine soft and bright,
Lending some new delight,
Ulalé—ulalé—ulalé!
Voices sweet,
Dainty feet,
Tripping and singing—Ulalé!

(As the glee ends the Singers disperse, and Rob joins Ned and Paul in front)
Ned.

What is that same “Ulalé”?

Rob.

An invention of mine own, to fill up the

metre. It carries as much meaning as the mind asks
for, and as much sense as the heads of its hearers.
What says old Abraham?

Ab.

Ay.

Ned.

Excellent. He has caught the trick of discretion
to a nicety. The night grows apace, but
brings no captain with it.

Rob.

And no news of the famous jewels.

Ned.

Hush! if that undertaking prosper, we shall
all be northward bound before the morning.

Paul.

And I shall retire on a competence into
private life. Heaven save King James for purposes
as worthy.

Ned.

You have heard nothing?

Rob.

Nothing to-night: but the word is everyone
for himself, if the game have not miscarried; and a
meeting at the old trysting-place in York as soon as
speed can compass. I shall sing my last song in
London for some time to-night.

Paul.

Heaven send it be not the swan's song, that
goes before a death.

Ab.

Amen!

Ned.

Silence, old man! You that speak so little,
speak better to the purpose. Have you the boat
ready by the river-stairs, Ferrers, as the Captain
commanded us?

Paul.

For a lady and an escort, yes. What can

be the meaning of that? Does the Captain purpose
an elopement with some fine woman?

All.

Ha, ha!

Rob.

We shall have the key of the riddle presently.
Who comes yonder—from the dancing platform?

Ned.

A couple in a dream of bliss, of Adam's
pattern. Why, 'tis our little 'prentice and the young
tirewoman! Stand aside and give them space for
courting.

Rob.

And watch for the Captain. He should be
on this side of the garden.

Ab.

Ay. (they go off, and are seen at the back at times)

Enter Tim and Dolly.
Tim.
Dolly, I love you! Never till to-night
Knew I what dancing meant.

Dol.
It must be owned
That you have yet to learn to keep the time
In some proportion. But that I have promised
To be your partner in the dance of life,
I might have been ashamed to stand with you.

Tim.
Give me a few more lessons in the art,
And I am perfect. But in very sooth
How could I mind my feet, when all my eyes
Were feasting upon Dolly?

Dol.
Stupid boy!
Have they not time to feast like that at home?

Tim.
No—never half enough! Look at them now,
They cannot stray a foot: no more can I.
Oh, Dolly, what a lovely thing is love!

Dol.
So poets feign: but men are never true.

Tim.
Who told you that?

Dol.
The poets.

Tim.
None beside?
Have men been false to you?

Dol.
My knowledge comes
Of much reflection, and the native wisdom
Which I am graced withal. I cannot think
That men are ever honest.

Tim.
I have heard
That women have their whims, and ever veer
This way and that way, like the weathercock,
Which dances on with all the winds in turn,
Indifferent with which.

Dol.
Because the winds,
Manlike, will flutter round the weathercock,
Expelling each the other. The poor jade
Would gladly stay at home with one of them,
And comfortably point the selfsame way:
But winds are never satisfied.

Tim.
Believe me,
I will be ever in the South, as soft
And warm as any weathercock could wish,
So you will ever point my way.

Dol.
I will!
Oh, Tim, I am so fond of you!

Tim.
You dear!

(he kisses her. Rob and Ned come forward)
Rob.

Ahem!

Ned.

Caught and caged!

Dol.

Oh, Tim, I shall die of blushing.

Tim.

What do you mean by intruding, sir?—You
shall see how I will deal with them.

Ned.

Brave Master 'Prentice, I cry you mercy.
Most sweet young lady, the youth is not worthy his
fortune. Take my arm.

Dol.

The youth serves my turn very well, sir, and
with your permission I will e'en stay with him.

Tim.

Spoken like a man, Dolly! These fellows
are of Magnus's irregulars.

Dol.

And very properly christened. I hate your
Magnus and all that belongs to him.

Rob.

Have you seen the Captain, mate? We
have been looking for him.

Tim.

You will look none the better with my eyes.
I have not seen the Captain, and have no wish that
way. I don't so much as believe he is a captain at all.

Enter Hardy.
Har.

Flat heresy, my lad of steel! He comes to
contradict you himself. (to Rob)
Have you the boat
ready?

Rob.

Yes. And the jewels?—

Har.

Will be here to the hour: fear nothing,—
Now, Button the hero, Timothy the fire-eater, hero of
my soul and man of my counsel, I have news for you.
Hardy is at hand.

Rob. and Ned.

Ha, ha!

Tim.

Hardy! I don't believe a word of it.

Dol.

Quite right. Don't.

Tim.

You have been fooling me about Hardy till I
am tired of it. I don't believe you know anything
about him, and hold in my conscience that you are
quite as bad as he. I have taken to another service,
and I am here to resign my commission.

Har.

Timothy! you will break my heart. I love
thee as mine own child, and would have made thy
fortunes for thee. Can black ingratitude have entered
into one so young and fair?

Tim.

Rubbish!

Dol.

That's right.

Har.

And you too, my maiden? Rob, we are
deserted, abandoned. The pillar of our cause has left
us, and there is nothing for us but to disband.
Button, I am weeping inward tears! but I would not
have an unwilling servant of thee. I give thee my
blessing, and fare thee well! Bless thee, my Button!
(aside)
I have paid my respects to thy master without
thee!—Here comes more company.

Ned.

It is Mistress Florien.

Har.

Good. She comes upon her hour.

Dol.

My mistress, Tim! Now for my resignation
too.

(Hardy, Rob, and Ned retire on one side of the platform, and Tim and Dolly on the other)
Enter Florien, Kilrose, Haselrigge, and Temple.
Kil.
Long live our queen, that is our queen again,
And wears her robe of revelry to-night,
As if she had not left it for an hour.

Has.
I never knew her bright wit cut so keen.

Temp.
Or saw her eyes flash half such witchery.

Kil.
Nor dance in such a maze of wreathëd smiles!

Flo.
Etcetera—etcetera—my lord!
All's new to-night except your compliments!
Yes, I am merry: and my heart leaps up
In challenge to my fortune, leading me
Into a land of promise, where the flowers
Will spring to greet me of their own accord,
And all the face of Heaven shew ne'er a cloud
To hide my sun from me! (aside)
Free from that man!
Did he say I was free?—Bring me some wine,
And I will pledge you!

Har.
(coming forward)
Take this cup from me.

Flo.
(aside to him)
Ah, you are here! The boat?—

Har.
Is waiting for you.
The jewels?—

Flo.
Will be here.

Har.
In half an hour,
After the concert, I will see you here.
Your servant, gentlemen!

(he bows and exit, Rob and Ned following him from the back as he goes)
Has.
What is that man?

Kil.
One Captain Magnus, and I like him not:
A very saucy fellow, and I wonder
That Florien bears with him.

Flo.
I find him useful
Upon occasion. Let the cup go round,
And ask no questions. Florien's will is law;
And she has on her sovereign robes to-night,
Which none must sully with disloyal word.

All.
God save Queen Florien!

Flo.
Now, my Lord Kilrose,
Lord of the Chamber, proffer us the cup
Upon your bended knee, and we shall grace you
With further honours. We do style you here
Knight of the Carpet, famed and masterful
In all the dangerous arts of piping peace!
Lord Treasurer of Compliments, High Steward
Of trim deceits to catch a lady's ear:—
And thus we drink to you!

All.
Long live the Queen!

Kil.
And Heaven hang further graces on her tongue!

Flo.
Who shall set down the cup?

Dol.
(coming forward with Tim)
My lady, I.

Flo.
What, Dolly? you and the young cavalier
That followed you so closely. 'Twas for this
You would play truant for the nonce? Well met:
And pledge me both of you.

Tim.
With all my heart.

Dol.
This is my latest service to you, madam;
And thus I tender it.

Flo.
Your latest! why?
What have you heard?

Dol.
Nothing: But I am bound
To a new master.

Tim.
If it please you, lady,
We are going to be married.

Flo.
Ah! you start
Upon your voyage together?

Dol.
Madam, yes.
I'm very fond of Tim.

Tim.
Angel!

Flo.
Is't so?
Come hither, Dolly. Wear this chain for me.

(she throws a chain round Dolly's neck)
Dol.
Oh, madam!—

Flo.
Keep it: it is worth your pains;
And well your pains deserve the gift of me.
May happiness be with you where you go,
And may you two be drawn together close,
Close in all fond and true companionship,
And sometimes think of Florien—who, it may be,
Will one day find a haven like to yours,
To cast a quiet anchor. Pray for me,—
For it may do me service. So—good-night!

Dol.
All wishes for the best attend you, madam.

Tim.
With mine to wait on hers: and more than that,
Lady, if you will send Roy Mallet back
To Mary Fuller.

Flo.
What? I pray you, go. (aside)

The shadow sweeps across my life once more,
And darkens the new dawn.

(Exeunt Tim and Dolly)
Kil.
Florien! so rapt?
Here have we waited till your Majesty
Should please to give us further audience.
Your humble suitors you have entertained
With royal condescension: give to us
More of your smiles!

Has.
And while your lieges wait
Submissive by your throne, here take your seat,
And with your mimic sceptre in your hand,
Rule all things to your pleasure.

Temp.
And to ours!
Mark how the masquers gather round again,
Wooed by the charm of music to her side.

(The music begins softly on the orchestra: and groups again form upon the stage, as they have passed and repassed at intervals during the Act)
Flo.
Another song! Yes, listen: I am shamed
That for a while I fell to absent thought.

Kil.
The cares of State were on your royal mind!
Brush them away.

Flo.
I will! the care has passed
Even as it came, unbidden; and I reign
The mistress of my servants and myself,
With the light heart of Hope, which lives upon
A dreamy future growing into real
With every fleeting minute. (aside)
Will he come?
Oh, the new country and the new-born life!
He tarries longer than I thought he would,
And I am sick for him.

Rob comes on the platform, applauded by the crowd.
Kil.
Hark to the song!

Ballad: Rob.

All.
Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!

(the lights begin to go out and the guests to disperse)
Flo.
(aside)
What mean those words? Why are they uttered now
As with a warning? Ah! the lights go out,
As if a sudden change were in the air,
And Fate had now re-cast my horoscope
For sudden evil! God! I feel afraid!

Kil.
What is it, Florien?

Flo.
Nothing.

Kil.
It grows late.
The guests are going and the feast is over.
Come to your carriage.

Flo.
No. Leave me to-night.
I shall return alone.

Kil.
Impossible!
Your escort waits for you.

Has.
And are enforced
To give you royal tending.

Flo.
Gentlemen,
I am in earnest. Leave me. I would go
Unnoticed from this place. May not a queen
Sometimes proceed incognito? Her servants
Most please her when they humour her the most.

Kil.
But this new humour is more strange than all.

Flo.
(aside)
Ah, I am on the rack! what does it mean,
This long delay? and the boat waiting still,
And Hardy—and that song, which like a weird
Mocks at me in its burden?

Enter Roy.
Flo.
You!

Kil.
We are too many here. I did not think
This sprig should come to-night. Florien, you press
Too far upon your privilege.

Flo.
(aside)
His face!
What has he done?—Good-night—I pray you, go!

Kil.
Come, gentlemen; my lady's cavalier
Is here to guard her. It beseems us not,
That are of rank and breeding, to dispute
The post with such as he. Come, Haselrigge,
Temple, your arm.—You have been bright to-night
With the old radiance. For that much we thank you,
And bid you all good-night. (aside)
Something is here
Far more than common: never on man's face
Read I such rede as there. Friends, stay with me,
And have a care of Florien: danger threatens
Our humorsome young mistress. Have we care!

(Exeunt Kilrose, Haselrigge, and Temple)
Flo.
(after a pause)
You do not speak: what does your silence mean?
Why is your face like some grim monument
Hewn out of marble? Roy, you frighten me!

Roy.
Here are the jewels.

Flo.
Yes?—is that your voice?
My lover's voice, whose musical accord
So sweetly won me,—harsher than the wind
Moaning in dungeons? Speak, for mercy's sake!

Roy.
The jewels: take them: they are red with blood,
And richer for the dye: oh, take them from me:
The casket burns my hand!

(he lets the casket fall)
Flo.
(drawing back)
Red—with whose blood?

Roy.
My master's. He is dead.

Flo.
How dead?

Roy.
By me.
I killed him.

Flo.
Ah! a murderer!—touch me not!

Roy.
(without movement or gesture)
I stood beside him in the darkness, lit
By the one lamp he held. I told him all.
I bade him yield those jewels up to me,
For I must have them; and he ne'er again
Should hear a word of Mallet. He replied
Something about his daughter, who is dying
For love of me. I gave no heed to that,
For I love you, if love be not profaned,
Even upon the very passage of my lip,
When breathed by such a grimëd soul as mine.
I said again—the jewels! and he pleaded
In his King's name, whose trust should not be broke,
Unless his heartstrings broke the first. They did.
I broke them. Florien—take the jewels up!

Flo.
I dare not touch them! Are you playing with me?

Roy.
Speak I as one who plays? Perhaps I do.

Flo.
This is too terrible! Who bade you kill?
Who bade you take the life of an old man,
Whose hand had fed and nursed you? Why, the deed
Is worse than murder!

Roy.
Come these words from you?
He would not give the jewels. 'Twas his life,
Or yours. Remember!

Flo.
Mine! But they will track you,
Follow you, take you, even here, to-night,
Red-handed from this horrible attaint,
Here, in the very midst of mirth and music,
And garlanded with flowers! Impossible!

Roy.
Is blood so strange a thing to Hardy's thrall?

Flo.
Hardy was nothing to me; you were all;
And even to-night I threw the world for you
Off like a worn-out garment. At my feet
The partners of my pleasures pleaded with me,
And all the answer of my jocund heart
Was Roy, my Roy! and all the world for him!

Roy.
Has the heart's answer changed?

Flo.
I fear you now,
I fear your very face.

Roy.
Yet 'tis your own;
For you re-made it. Will you come with me?

Flo.
I cannot tell! I know not! Do I love you?
Or has a terror withered up my love?
What can I do, whose fond and careless life
Was like a foambell tossed upon the sea,
Now all that sea is tempest? (a murmur heard)
Hark! its waves
Are rising. Can you hear them?

Roy.
Yes! the storm
Is gathering to a head. Take up the jewels!
(Florien snatches them up)
What is the noise?

Enter Hardy.
Har.
Give them to me, and fly!

Roy.
Hardy!

Har.
The same: the hounds are on your track,
You are discovered, followed—all is known:
But we can baffle them. The boat is waiting
By yonder path, with sturdy arms to bear you
To safety in a stroke. (forcing the casket)
Out on the lock!
For you must have your share.

Roy.
No! not a doit!
No, not a counter's worth! The blood-money
Is yours, and be my guilt upon your head,
As in your hands my gain!

Flo.
'Tis nobly said!
On his head be it, as the crime has been
To which he bound me! on his head alone
The guilt of both of us! I love you, Roy!
And if a wife and husband may redeem,
We will redeem together!

(noise without)
Har.
Quick! the boat!

(As they are going, Kilrose enters with his sword drawn, followed by Haselrigge, Temple, Officers, and others who fill the stage, entering on both sides with torches)
Kil.
This way the murderer! this way! this way!

Har.
(aside)
The place is all surrounded. How to escape?
Bah! I am safe enough!

Kil.
Mallet, the murderer!

Flo.
He is not. Let him go!

Kil.
You know him not.

Flo.
I do! and will not leave him.

Officer.
I arrest you,
Roy Mallet, in the King's name, for the murder
Of Master Fuller, goldsmith.

Flo.
Take me too!
I too am guilty.

Kil.
She is raving, sir:
And knows not what she says.

Officer.
She does, my lord.
My warrant is for Mistress Florien too.

Kil.
For Mistress Florien? Florien!—young assassin,
Will you not speak?

Flo.
Roy! they will kill me. Think—
You promised!

Roy.
Yes, May God forgive us both
What has been done, and what is yet to do.
We were but dupes, I think. Your evidence,
Sir Officer, of this.

Kil.
This dagger, sir:
Your own name deftly carved upon the blade!
Yet red and bleeding from the goldsmith's life:
You dropped it at the door.

Roy.
It is not mine.
I pray you let me look.

Officer.
There!

Kil.
Murderer!

Roy.
It is my own, and thus I claim it!

(As he speaks the Crowd gather round him and Florien, who is close to him, and hide them for a moment. Then they fall back with a cry, and she is lying in his arms.)
All.
Ah!

Kil.
He has stabbed Florien! Villain!

Roy.
To the heart.
Her heart was mine, sir. I have taken it.

Flo.
You have done well—I love you—I am free. (dies)


Kil.
Oh, this is more than murder!—Bar the gates!
Let no one leave the place!

Roy.
Lie gently—so!

(he places Florien on the ground, kneeling by her)
Kil.
Have you accomplices?

Roy.
One.

Kil.
Who is that?
Shew me his eyes!

Roy.
(pointing to Hardy)
There!

Kil.
Captain Magnus!

Roy.
Search him!
He has the jewels of the King about him
In the King's casket. (Hardy is seized)
And his name is not
Magnus—but Rufus Hardy.

Har.
'Tis a lie!

Roy.
It is the truth.

Kil.
Search him!

Officer.
Here are the jewels!
In the King's name! (Hardy is arrested)


Har.
Informer!

Roy.
We are two.
And we shall answer for this life—together! (kissing Florien)

'Twas love—love—love! Can there be pardon there? (looking up)


The curtain falls. After a time it rises again upon a picture of a street upon the road to Tyburn. The street is lined with faces: and in a cart, in custody, are Hardy and Roy. The first is standing sullen and indifferent. The second, with the Priest by him, is kneeling with his hands crossed, and moving his lips in prayer. The curtain falls again.