University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—A Room in Kensington Palace.
Enter Colonel Green and a Page.
Col. Green.
My business will not stay, sir! 'Tis direct
And urgent. It is done this very hour,
Or not at all. Your own discretion use;
But using it, remove all blame from me.
The council sits; and, as you say, no doubt
On grave affairs; but graver bring me hither.
So tell Lord Portland.

Page.
May I crave your name?

Col. Green.
No, sir; my business is my name; and that
I tell to none but him.

Page.
He scarce will grant
An audience to an unknown visitor.

Col. Green.
And, if I give my name, I am unknown.
What then, sir? Do you know me? No. To you
Or him, I give what name I please; but, save
My own, I shall give none, and that, so please you,
I will not give. My business is of moment!—
Instant in matter vital to the king:
That, for your warrant to perform my wish.
Yet something farther. Tell his lordship, one
Whose life he saved, craves speech with him. The Boyne
Will help his memory as to time and place.
An officer dismounted in the rout,
Who would not ask his life from swords, enow
To give discomfort to a wavering troop:—
His lordship saw my plight—call'd off the dogs,
And saved the game, at bay! He'll recollect,
Else is his memory shorter, sir, than mine;
For I shall ne'er forget it till I die!
Now may I trust you'll pleasure me?

Page.
I shall.

[Goes out.
Col. Green.
No man is bound when evil counsels warp
Those he contracted with on honest grounds.
There's the default of combinations. Men
Respect the compact more than they love truth.
Keep it together when 'tis crack'd and flaw'd
With rank defect, through folly creeping in,
Cunning or crime; and ought to fall to pieces!
Brand me a traitor!—say I am forsworn!—
If I must hold with men, or lose the grasp
Of mine own soul! Away the allegation
That flouts the laws of man—mocks those of Heaven!
My honour's dear content is cheaply kept
At loss of the whole world!—Conscience is all!
But let me not forget the leaguer'd Duke,
Now in the toils of some close enemy—
Belike the Earl of Byerdale.—Revenge
For the rejection of the son! 'Twas strange
They captured him, yet laid not hand on me.
Herein his case I have in full set forth,
And pleaded, as his bearing warranted,
For Wilton's sake. No friend of mine is he!

Enter the Page, conducting in the King.
Page.
This is the person.

King.
So!—You may withdraw.
[Page retires.
I recollect him! though twelve years might serve
A longer memory for plea to lose
A trace of one beheld but once, and then
In wrack of tempest. Yes; it is the man!
Though by his air, more than his person known.
He knows not me. Report, that gatherer
Of all that comes to hand—which oft picks up
Falsehood as truth—has pass'd another for me.
Your business, sir?

Col. Green.
See I at last the man
To whom I owe my life?

King.
You see that man.

Col. Green.
And, if I do, first let me say to him
My debt, although long due, was ne'er forgot;
And though to pay it I am bankrupt, save
In gratitude, yet that has known no waste
From lapse of time; but still has grown and grown,
Till now my heart, half-bursting with its fraught,
Has scarce the power to lay it down before him!

King.
[Aside.]
A man of generous nature well as brave!
Myself befriended, I befriending you!
I recollect you; though the veil which years
Casts o'er the face, they have had time to weave.
I recollect you, sir! A gallant man
Is scarce forgotten by his brother, though
At odds with him—especially when seen
In strait that proves him mettle to the core!
Such as beleaguer'd you. I am very glad
You 'scaped the further hazard of the day,
And live in health to this.

Col. Green.
O, my good lord—

King.
Your business, pray you?

Col. Green.
If I speak of one,
You serve and reverence, by a title, less
Than that you name him by, forgive a man
Who having been the subject of a king
Who had a throne, pays him allegiance now
Without one!

King.
Sir, I understand you. Spare
Excuses! Save compunction! We shall speak
Of William of Nassau. What you would say
Refers to him?

Col. Green.
His safety!

King.
Ay!

Col. Green.
His life!

King.
His life is in High Hands, sir, and to those
He trusts it!

Col. Green.
Those who do not fear such hands
Are arm'd against his life.

King.
Sir, every day
Is rife with rumours—every day we hear
Of plots a-hatching, ready to start up;
Yet day succeeds to day and nothing stirs
To cost a wink of sleep!—The King's at ease
Or, if it please you,—William of Nassau!

Col. Green.
Your lordship will compel me say the “King,”
If for my feelings thus you tax your own;
And, yet, I should not say it.

King.
Nothing say
But what you should say. What's the danger, sir,
You hint at?

Col. Green.
What I know on better ground
Than simple rumour! What with my own eyes
I have seen—have heard with mine own ears—had been
A party to, but that, at the first blush,
My soul revolted at the treason!

King.
Treason
To William of Nassau!

Col. Green.
To mine own honour!

King.
I thought, sir, 'twas the life of such a man
I saved! Go on!

Col. Green.
Ere I proceed, I have
A boon to ask—nay, a condition.

King.
Well!
Say a condition, 'tis accorded!—Name it.

Col. Green.
Not to be importuned—far less required—
To divulge a single name!—for they are mates
I hitherto made common cause with—brothers
In honourable venture—bonded with me
By wear of sinew and by waste of blood.
If I defeat the guilt, it is enough;
I'll not betray the guilty, come what may!

King.
It is enough!

Col. Green.
But further yet, my lord;
If aught transpire to bring to perfect light
The plot with its contrivers, I shall stand
Aloof!—no evidence of mine be call'd
To fix the penalty on the accused—
And though it were, I should be mute, and keep
My silence steadfast to the very block.

King.
I think you would!—Have all that you demand—
My honour is impledged! And now the peril?

Col. Green.
Assassination!

King.
That is a base pass
For your king's cause to come to!

Col. Green.
On my soul
He knows it not! Did he, upon the same
Immortal, irrecoverable pledge,
If forfeited—he would denounce it, though
It cost frustration of his regal hopes!

King.
[After a pause.]
You are a loyal man!—What farther, sir,
Concerning William of Nassau? Unless
You throw some farther light, he's struck before
He sees the blow.

Col. Green.
To-morrow he will dine
With my Lord Romney—

King.
Ay?—Behoves our William
He whisper his engagements with his friends!
Well?

Col. Green.
He will be beset with twice the sum
Of his accustom'd guards.

King.
That's matter, sir:
Proceed.

Col. Green.
On Saturday, towards ten at night,
He is like to pass 'cross Turnham Green.

King.
Indeed!
A worse than bootless journey saved perhaps,
Or taken at more charge of retinue!
Aught else?

Col. Green.
If they are baffled there, he hunts;
And, on some breathing-day, they will take care
To turn out such a field that Death himself
Shall ride along with him.

King.
They go to work
In earnest!

Col. Green.
O, my lord! Protect your king!
Counsel him to be wary! Hedge him round
With safety thickly!—thickly, my good lord!
For your own sake—for your fair country's sake,
That loathes the secret stab—Nay for his own!
For he is brave—a thousand miles above
A foul and dastard death!—an upright prince!
As all allow—even his enemies!
Grateful to those who serve him—meaning well,
Even in the act which I and many more
Traverse and bear with blame—Although to him
I ne'er owe fealty, nor bend the knee,
Nor—

King.
Stop!—you are in error all along;
Which, with your leave, I now will set to rights.
'Tis not the lord of Portland talks with you;
'Twas not the lord of Portland saved your life;
His squadrons William of Nassau awhile
In person led. He saw you, thick beset;
He heard the death or quarter proffer'd you;
The latter, point at throat, you would not ask!—
The first, were ready—like a cavalier
Whose soul was in the cause he battled for
And saw was lost—to take! He stopp'd the thrust
Saw you remount, and order'd you free way!
You say it was a debt—well; be it so!
But, if it was, 'tis amply, now, repaid;
And take acquittance full, and thanks, to boot,
From William of Nassau!

Col. Green.
The king!—My life
Your highness' gift!—Then 'tis your highness' due,
And on my knee, I tender it!

King.
Indeed!—
I did not look for this.

Col. Green.
I know it, sire!
And, therefore, tender't the more heartily.

King.
Rise, pray you!
Teach me how I am to name you.
You hesitate!—Enough!—Take your own time
And opportunity. I shall expect
To hear from you.—Nay, since you give me right—
Command you, that you, then, apprise me fully
Touching the knowledge which I now forego!
And now, good morning, sir. If I have found
A subject, well!—if not—you have found a friend!

Col. Green.
A king! my liege.

King.
Then, sir, the better friend!

Col. Green.
O, yet vouchsafe, my liege, another moment:
One who his life imperill'd yesternight,
Discountenancing foulest treachery,
Was in my presence by your messenger
Arrested, and, as truly I believe,
Not upon public but base private grounds—
The Duke of Gaveston.

King.
Ay!—I know the Duke
Affects another's cause; but, by my crown,
I hold him as an open enemy,
And bear no grudge to him.—Concerns that scroll
The Duke?

Col. Green.
[Presenting the scroll.]
It does.

King.
I shall peruse it, sir,
And when I know the man who gave it me—
As now do hold you bound to let me know him—
Declare my judgment on it.

Col. Green.
Yet, my liege,
Another moment.—Deem me not a man
Who loosely cleaves! Had I been such a one,
I had been shaken off by slights, neglects,
Short-comings, and offences, long ago!
Nay, farther,—think not 'tis my personal
Peculiar debt alone determines me
I' the transfer of my duty; for of late,
I have begun to see, despite my wish,
Another good, neglected formerly,
Incorporated with the regal weal
In your more equal, patriotic sway.
I say't with pain of heart, yet hearty faith,
And, to assert it, henceforth draw my breath.

[They go out severally.