University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—A Romantic Pass in the Mountains—Alpine Bridge, &c.
Enter Henry, Edwin, and Troops, L. U. E.
Hen.
(R. C.)

This is the pass; yon bridge must be
defended, cost what it will.

Edw.
(L.)

But, I say, Henry, if anything serious
should happen to us, what would become of the poor
girls at home? When do you intend to send off Mr.
Pigeon, the postman, with a letter, eh?

Hen.

Soon as we know the issue of the combat.
Where did you leave the pretty bird?

Edw.

At our head-quarters, the village alehouse;
and I told the hostess to be sure and give him plenty to
eat.

Hen.

Alas! poor thing; I fear he will not eat.

Edw.

Why not? Because he is in love? So am I,
too, over head and ears; yet my appetite's as good as
ever it was. No, no: if I were to starve myself to
death, I might as well be shot dead at once; and then
what would poor Amy do? Our sweethearts are really
to be pitied, poor girls; for, if they were to lose us, they
might search the world through before they'd find two
such nice, charming, agreeable young men, as you and
I, Henry.

Hen.
Fear not, my friend.
Heaven will protect the man who does his duty;
And cowards are not worth a fair maid's love.
[Horn sounds without.
Hark!—The appointed signal. To the bridge!

[All advance to the bridge.
Enter Eugene, driving Buckram along as before, L.
Eug.
(L.)

Now to show your courage. This is the
field of battle.

Buc.
(R.)

And a cursed ugly-looking field it is, too.
Not a morsel of cabbage growing in it. Suppose, now,
I were to climb up this tree; I could give you warning
of danger, you know.

[Offers to climb—Eugene pulls him down.
Eug.

No skulking, sir. To your post—follow me.

[Retires to the bridge.
Buc.

To my post! I wish I was a post myself, or
anything but what I am. Egad! I've a mind to put my
best leg foremost, and—

[Is about to run off, R., when he is alarmed by the report of a musket; he then runs to L., and is driven back by a second shot; he scampers about, confused and terrified, and at length climbs up a tree for protection.
Enter Ethelbert, Hardolf, Fernwold, and Rebels, R.
Eth.
(R.)

Now, my brave companions in misfortune,
to force the mountain pass, or perish in the attempt!—It
is our only way to life and liberty.

[Advances with his men to the bridge.
Hen.
[From the bridge.]

Halt, rebels!—Yield, or die!

Eth.

Never!

[A general combat; the rebels retreat, and draw the yeomanry from their position; they are at length compelled to retire, pursued by the rebels, R.
Buc.
[Peeping out.]

There's precious work for you!
The coast is clear, however, at last; so I'll descend, and
make the best of my way home. [Comes down from the tree.]

What folly it is to go to war!—As if there was
any pleasure in a man's getting his throat cut, or a great
button-hole made in his body! [Gun fired without.]
Oh,
dear! oh, dear!—There it goes again! Now, legs, be
true as gold, and swift as lightning!

[Runs off, L.
Loud Alarum. Re-enter Hardolf, Fernwold, and several Rebels, with Henry, a prisoner, bound, R. S. E.
Fer.
(R.)

So, you are compelled to yield at last, my
fine fellow?

Hen.
(C.)

Since you are brave, be merciful as well;
not for my sake, but the dear girl I love.

Har.
(L.)

Oh, you're in love, are you? Ha! ha!
ha! But, come, let's see what you've got about you. [Observing Jane's and Lady Jane's pictures round Henry's neck.]

A picture!—And here's another. [Tears them off his neck, and hangs them round his own.]

Two devilish fine
girls, upon my soul! You seem to have been a mighty
favourite with the soft sex. How many sweethearts
have you got in all, eh?

Hen.
[Struggling.]
Unfeeling monsters!—Strip me—leave me nothing,
But that dear picture!

Fer.

So, one of them is your favourite, I suppose.—
Poor girl, I pity her with all my heart! But say,
youngster, have you got any money about you?

Hen.

None—I am poor; yet, surely, poverty is not a
sin.

Har.

So great a sin, that you've no hope of mercy;
so here goes.

[Offers to despatch Henry.
Enter Ethelbert, rushing between, with several followers, R.
Eth.

Hold!—Who dares harm that youth? He has
fought bravely, and therefore should be by the brave
respected. He is our prisoner—let that suffice. Convey
him hence, well guarded. Away!

Hen.

Oh, for a sword, that I might cut my way,
Through a whole host of foes, to her I love!

[Exit Henry, guarded, R.
Edw.
[From the bridge.]

This way, my lord. They
were too many for us before; but now I think we are
more than a match for them.

[Grand flourish and alarum.
Enter Lord Raymond, with Yeomanry, from the bridge.— The Rebels, after a short resistance, are subdued and bound.
Lord R.
(C.)

Convey the miscreants hence, and guard
them well.

Edw.
(L.) [Looking round.]

But where is Henry?

Har.
(R. C.)

If you mean that milk-faced lady-looking
youth, who gave us so much trouble, he's safe
enough.

Edw.

What, a prisoner? Come, some of ye [To the Yeomen]
;
we'll rescue him if he were in the clutches of
the devil himself.

Lord R.
Stay, Edwin. I lament poor Henry's fate;
Yet, recollect we've prisoners to guard;
'Twere hazardous to leave them.

Edw.

What! let Henry remain in the hands of such
cruel bloodthirsty monsters! No, never! To save my
friend, damme but I'd disobey the queen herself, and
take the consequences. So, come along, some of ye, to
Henry's rescue. What! not a soul offers to stir! Well,
no matter; give me but another sword for Henry, and
here goes, single-handed, to save my dear friend's life,
or perish in the attempt!

[Exit, R.
Lord R.
Hence with your prisoners,
[To the Yeomanry.
And wait for further orders at the inn,
Where we have fix'd our quarters.
[Pointing to Hardolf, who is still bound.
This miscreant I will myself examine.
[Exeunt all the Rebels but Hardolf, L., guarded by Yeomanry.
Come hither, fellow. If the countenance
Be, as some say, an index to the mind,
Thy heart must be one foul and loathsome mass
Of black deformity: thy scowling brow
Betrays the tempest of a troubled soul,
And stamps thee reprobate. What wouldst thou do
For life and liberty?

Har.
(L.)
Anything, my lord.

Lord R.
These baubles I shall keep. [Taking the two miniatures from Hardolf's neck.]
Yet I'll not rob thee,
Though thou art a robber. There's ten times the value
Of such a paltry booty.

[Throws him a purse.
Har.

Your lordship's very gracious; but, unless my
hands be untied, the purse may lie there till doomsday,
ere I can take it up.

[Tries in vain.
Lord R.
If thou for gold wilt do a desperate deed,
I will unbind thee.

[Unbinds his hands.
Har.
I'll do anything, my lord, for liberty— [Eagerly snatching up the purse.]
—and money.

Lord R.
Thou shalt have both. Now mark well what I say:
Shouldst thou betray me, thou, as rebel, diest
With thy companions. It would not avail thee
To say thou wert my hireling: thy oath
Would never gain belief 'gainst the mere word
Of Raymond. You beheld that youth—young Henry?

Har.
I did, my lord.

Lord R.
He is my bitterest enemy;
Yet from no private motive—that were wrong.
I fear he may prove dangerous to the state,
Through his great popularity, and wish
He were remov'd. You understand me well?

Har.
Perfectly, my lord. And the reward—

Lord R.
Should he be rescued, and thou do the deed,
A thousand crowns, besides thy life and freedom.

Har.
Agreed! But I've no arms.

Lord R.
[Giving a dagger.]
Take thou this dagger. At the inn to-night,
When all are buried in the arms of sleep,
Thou canst perform thy task. Fear not detection;
I will protect thee from all consequences.
Trust thou my word.

[Crosses to L.
Har.
And mine, my lord.

Lord R.
Nay, I would rather trust that look of thine,
Which speaks hell's language plainer than thy tongue!
If thy hand falter at the bloody deed,
Let thine eye be its prompter, and the scene
Of murder will not halt.
Away!—Remember time and place.—Be firm!

Har.

Ay, as a rock, my lord. Yet, should I be
questioned who 'twas unbound me, what am I to say?

Lord R.
Leave all to me.
The vilest rogues, supported by the great,
Are often used as instruments of state.

[Exeunt, L.