University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Greenwich Park, at sunrise.
Enter Peppercole.
Pep.
Body of me! If I had smelt a murder
At the job's end, I'd stay'd at home. Yet who
Should know us, masqued? Ev'n swell it publicly,
And sport the inn'cent here, in the king's hunt,—
That looks the safest.

[He disappears among the trees.
Enter Jin. Vin. preceding Nigel.
Jin.
This is Greenwich Park. (As he is going, Nigel offers him money.)
No money.

Nigel.
Nay, let us part friends.

Jin.
We part
Just as we met.

Nigel.
Your mind may change; and, should it,
You'll find me in these av'nues, 'till the chase
Shall draw the king this way.

[Exit.
Jin.
(Alone.)
That Marg'ret's whim
Should take to that stark Scot! He little thinks
She sent me for him. Well, t'have got a rival
Away on any terms, was good for me:
And, faith, for him,—if, as I doubt, this murder
Should breed him trouble.

[Exit.
Horns are heard;—a stag-hunt at a distance.
Enter Margaret, in a page's dress, laid down with silver-lace—a plaid sash, and black velvet cap and plume—followed by Bridget.
Bridg.
Hark! the hounds!

Marg.
My heart
Fails. Should my uncle Heriot come home sooner
Than we expected, oh, what shall I do?

Bridg.
Why, what shall I do, when my jealous spouse
Finds I have been gadding? John, say I,—
Bridget, says he—say I, are you not glad
To see your dear come back again? Says he,
To see myself a wittoll—No, say I;
To see yourself a fool: patting, therewith,
His russet cheek;—whereat, my master breaks
Into a surly grin; I get my arm
In his; then he, you know, in common manners,
Can do no less than chuck me by the chin,
Or, if I'd give him leave, salute my cheek;
And then—

Marg.
What then?

Bridg.
Why then,—I think, betwixt
Old husband, and young wife, it is enough;
Is it not?

Marg.
How should I know? Bless us, Bridget,
He's here! step back.

[Margaret and Bridget retire among the Trees.
Re-enter Nigel.
Nigel.
Thy race is run, brave stag.
Who's that alone, breaking the quarry? Is it—
It is—King James himself!

Enter James, dressed in his quilted green velvet dress, and grey hat.
James.
First hart o'th'season! (looking at his hands, which are bloody)

Fine hands this slaughter hath bedeck'd us with!
(Starting at the sight of Nigel.)
And who are you, man? by my soul, no other
Than that pugnacious Nigel! Bonny work!
Stop us! when we're on foot—alone too—

Nigel.
Pardon,
If for one moment—

James.
(with trepidation.)
We shall hear you best
On horseback. Stand aside;—De'il's in my people!

(Looking round for his attendants.
Nigel.
Sir, by your crown, which my forefathers fought for—

James.
(much alarmed, and trying to pass Nigel.)
We're a free king, I hope; not in the power
Of any subject! What can keep my folk?
Here, Steenie, hillo! ho!

Enter Buckingham, followed by Sir Geoffry, Peppercole, Hunters, and Crowd.
Buck.
What do I see?

James.
Treason, for aught I ken! or, as it seems,
For aught you care.

Buck.
Treason! and, lo! indeed,
There's blood upon the king! dear dad and gossip,
You are not wounded?

James.
Why, I trust, I'm not;
But search him; I am sure that fire-arms peep'd
Under his garb.

Nigel.
(producing and giving up his pistols.)
I bear them openly.

James.
There! said we not? We ken the smell of powder!

Pepper. and Crowd.
Oh! parricide! Off with th'assassin!

Buck.
Ever
In deeds of blood!

Nigel.
'Tis to the king I'd speak.

James.
Hence to the Tow'r with him, and with his weapons,
Things odious in our sight.
(Sir Geoffrey gives orders to an Officer, who, with Guards, takes Nigel into custody.
Exit Nigel, guarded.
We shall do justice,
Since he appeals to Cæsar.

Marg.
(Stepping forward.)
Now or never!
My gracious liege—

James.
What, more Conspir'ators! speak!

Marg.
I cannot, Sir; let this speak for me.

[Puts her hand into her doublet for her petition.
James.
Hold him!
He likewise hath a pistol!

Sir Geof.
Only loaded
With one great paper ball; a prayer of pardon
For his confed'rate, Nigel.

James.
Young Misprision,
Hold up your head! we ken you not; yet, sure,
We've seen your face before.

Marg.
At Christmas, sir,
When many of the City made a pageant
Before your Grace—you did commend my voice,
And say, that if thereafter I should need
A boon of worth, I was to come again
Before your presence, with this holiday-suit,
And sing the song that pleased you.

James.
Why we mind
Something of that same page. If you are he,
E'en let us hear your music.

Marg.
Sir, Ill try,
If fear will give my inexpertness leave.

Song. Margaret.

James.
Well sung! and therefore we will have this linnet
Wired in a cage.

Marg.
My liege!

James.
In the same bars
The other beasts his wings in—Just i'th'Tow'r,
Whence love, we think, will scarce find out the way.
Steenie, come hither! (aside to Buckingham)
On my kingdom, man,
This boy's a girl! Some pretty Citizen,
Who loves this Lord: is't not? Now, her best boon
And his best punishment, were to engraft
Her lowly stock with his, and make him marry—
Hey?

Buck.
Such, sir, is our English laws' humanity,
It warrants not, for any man's offence,
The punishment your Grace proposes.

James.
Whisht,
A jest;—this afternoon, before your pageant,
We'll sift this girl, for so she is—and Nigel,
Thoroughly face to face. (to Sir Geoffrey)
'Till evening, lodge
Yon sprig i'th'Tow'r.

Marg.
Is this your Grace's boon?

James.
Great issues oft have hung on threads as fine—
So with her—with him—to the Tow'r: (going, looks back)
now, Steenie,
Kens not your King the smell of powder, think ye?

[Exit, followed by Buckingham, Peppercole, Hunters, and Crowd; Margaret and Bridget go off on the other side, with Sir Geoffrey and Guards.