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For thou hast looked into my artless bosom, Thou hast betrayed me!
Guil. How! betrayed thee, Pembroke?
from thee; That, mixed in darkness, bustle to and fro, There was but this which I could ne'er forgive. As if their business were to make confusion. My soul is up in arms, my injured honour, Pem. Then sure our better angels called me Impatient of the wrong, calls for revenge; hither;
And though I love thee fondly — For this is friendship’s hour, and friendship’s of Guil. Hear me yet, fice,
And Pembroke shall acquit me to himself; To come, when counsel and when help is want- Hear, while I tell how fortune dealt between us, ing,
And gave the yielding beauty to my arms To share the pain of every gnawing care,
Pem. What, hear it! Stand and listen to thy To speak of comfort in the time of trouble,
triumph! To reach a hand, and save thee from adversity, Thou think'st me tame indeed. No, bold, I Guil. And wilt thou be a friend to me indeed?
I rush at once and tear thee for thy falsehood! Wilt thou with patience hear, and judge with Guil. Thou waro’st me well; and I were rash, temper?
as thou art, And if, perchance, thou meet with something To trust the secret sum of all my happiness harsh, With one not master of himself. Farewell
. Somewhat to rouse thy rage, and grate thy soul,
(Going Wilt thou be master of thyself, and bear it? Pem. Ha! art thou going? Think not thus to Pem. Away with all this needless preparation!
part, Thou know'st thou art so dear, so sacred to me, Nor leave me on the rock of this uncertainty. That I can never think thee an offender.
Guil. What wouldst thou further? If it were so, that I indeed must judge thee, Pem. Tell it to me all; I should take part with thee against myself, Say thou art married, say thou hast possessed her, And call thy fault a virtue.
And rioted in vast excess of bliss, Guil. But suppose
That I may curse myself, and thee, and her! The thought were somewhat that concerned our Come, tell me how thou didst supplant thy friend! love?
How didst thou look with that betraying face, Pem. No more; thou know'st we spoke of And, smiling, plot my ruin? that to-day,
Guil. Give me way. And on what terms we left it. 'Tis a subject, When thou art better tempered, I may tell thee, Of which, if possible, I would not think; And vindicate at full my love and friendship
. I beg that we may mention it no more.
Pem. And dost thou hope to shun me ther, Guil. Can we not speak of it with temper?
thou traitor? Pem. No.
No, I will have it now, this moment from thee, Thou know'st I cannot. Therefore, prithee Or drag the secret out from thy false heart
Guil. Away, thou madman! I would talk to Guil. Oh! could the secret I would tell thee
And reason with the rude tempestuous surge, And the world never know it, my fond tongue Sooner than hold discourse with rage like thite Should cease from speaking, ere I would unfold Pem. Tell it, or, by my injured love, I swear, it,
(Laying his hand upon his sworth Or vex thy peace with an officious tale ! I'll stab the lurking treason in thy heart. But since, howe'er ungrateful to thy ear,
Guil. Ha! stay thee there; nor let thy franIt must be told thee once, hear it from me.
tic hand Pem. Speak, then, and ease the doubts that Unsheath thy weapon. If the sword be drawn, shock my soul !
If once we meet on terms like those, farewell Guil. Suppose thy Guilford's better stars pre To every thought of friendship; one must fall
Pem. Curse on thy friendship! I would break And crown his love
the band. Pem. Say not, suppose: 'tis done.
Guil. That as you pleaseBeside, this place Seek not for vain excuse, or softening words:
is sacred, Thou hast prevaricated with thy friend, And will not be profaned with brawls and outBy under-hand contrivances undone me:
rage. And, while my open nature trusted in thee, You know I dare be found on any summons Thou hast stepped in between me and my hopes, Pem. 'Tis well
. My vengeance shall not loiter And ravished from me all my soul held dear.
Henceforward let the thoughts of our past lives 'Tis past, and thou art lost to me for ever. Be turned to deadly and remorseless hate! Love is, or ought to be, our greatest bliss; Here I give up the empty name of friend, Since every other joy, how dear soever, Renounce all gentleness, all commerce with thee; Gives way to that, and we leave all for love. To death defy thee as my mortal foe;
At the imperious tyrant's lordly call, And, when we meet again, may swift destruction In spite of reason or restraint we come, Rid me of thee, or rid me of myself!
Leave kindred, parents, and our native home.
[Erit PEMBROKE. The trembling maid, with all her fears, he charms, Guil. The fate, I ever feared, is fallen upon me; And pulls her from her weeping mother's arms : And long ago my boding heart divined
He laughs at all her leagues, and, in proud scorn, A breach like this from his ungoverned rage.
Commands the bands of friendship to be torn; Oh, Pembroke! thou hast done me much injus- Disdains a partner should partake his throne, tice,
But reigns unbounded, lawless, and alone. For I have borne thee true unfeigned affection ;
Pem. Married! who ?-Damnation !
Gar. Lord Guilford Dudley, and the lady Jane.
Pem. Curse on my stars !
Gur. Nay, in the name of grace,
In this one single woman. To let a hare-brained passion be your guide,
Pem. I have lost And hurry you into such mad extremes. More than the female world can give me hack. Marry, you might have made much worthy pro- I had beheld even her whole sex, unmoved, fit,
Look'd o'er them like a bed of gaudy flowers, By patient hearing; the unthinking lord That lift their painted heads, and live a day, Had brought forth every secret of his soul ; Then shed their trifling glories unregarded : Then when you were the master of his bosom, My heart disdained their beauties, till she came, That was the time to use hiin with contempt, With every grace that Nature's hand could give, And turn his friendship back upon his hands. And with a mind so great, it spoke its essence Pem. Thou talk'st as if a madman could be Immortal and divine. wise.
Gar. She was a wonder; Oh, Winchester! thy hoary frozen age
Detraction must allow that. Can never guess my pain; can never know
Pem. The virtues came, The burning transports of untamed desire. Sorted in gentle fellowship, to crown her, I tell thee, reverend lord, to that one bliss, As if they meant to mend each other's work, To the enjoyment of that lovely maid,
Candour with goodness, fortitude with sweetness, As to their centre, I had drawn each hope, Strict piety, and love of truth, with learning, And every wish my furious soul could form; More than the schools of Athens ever knew, Still with regard to that my brain forethought, Or her own Plato taught. A wonder, WinchesAnd fashioned every action of my life.
ter! Then, to be robbed at once, and, unsuspecting, Thou know'st not what she was, nor can I speak Be dashed in all the height of expectation !
her, It was not to be borne.
More than to say, she was that only blessing Gar. Have you not heard of what has happen- My soul was set upon-and I have lost her. ed since?
Gar. Your state is not so bad as you would Pem. I have not had a minute's peace of mind,
make it ; A moment's pause, to rest from rage, or think. Nor need you thus abandon every hope.
Gar, Learn it from me then: But, ere I speak, Pem. Ha! wilt thou save me, snatch me from I warn you to be master of yourself.
despair, Though, as you know, they have confined me And bid me live again? long,
Gar. She may be yours. Graʼmercy to their goodness, prisoner here; Suppose her husband die? Yet as I am allowed to walk at large
Pem. O vain, vain hope ! Within the Tower, and hold free speech with any, Gar. Marry, I do not hold that hope so vain. I have not dreamt away my thoughtless hours, These gospellers have had their golden days, Without good heed to these our righteous rulers. And lorded it at will; with proud despite To prove this true, this morn a trusty spy Have trodden down our holy Roman taith, Has brought me word, that yester evening late, Ransacked our shrines, and driven her saints to In spite of all the grief for Edward's death,
exile; Your friends were married.
But if my divination fail me not,
Their haughty hearts shall be abased ere long, He turned him to the world that lay below:
He saw 'twas vain his ruin to deplore,
(Ereunt Pem. and GAR. Cold unresolving heads, and creeping time? Gar. To-day, or I am ill informed, Northum
SCENE IT. berland, With easy Suffolk, Guilford, and the rest,
Enter Lord GUILFORD and Lady JANE. Meet here in council, on some deep design, Guil. What shall I say to thee! What power Some traitorous contrivance, to protect
divine Their upstart faith from near approaching ruin. Will teach my tongue to tell thee what I feel? But there are punishments-halters and axes Το the transports of my bosom forth, For traitors, and consuming flames for heretics: And make thee partner of the joy dwells there? The happy bridegroom may be yet cut short, For thou art comfortless, full of affliction, Even in his highest hope-But go not you, Heavy of heart as the forsaken widow, Howe'er the fawning sire, old Dudley, court you; And desolate as orphans. Oh, my tair one! No, by the holy rood, I charge you, mix not Thy Edward shines amongst the brightest stars, With their pernicious counsels.--Mischief waits And yet thy sorrows seek him in the grave. them,
L.J. Gray. Alas, my dearest lord ! a thousand Sure, certain, unavoidable destruction.
griefs Pem. Ha! join with them! the cursed Dudley's Beset my anxious heart : and yet, as if race !
The burthen were too little, I have added Who, while they held me in their arms, betray- The weight of all thy cares; and, like the miser,
Increase of wealth" has made me but more Scorned me for not suspecting they were villains,
wretched. And made a mockery of my easy friendship! The morning light seems not to rise as usual, No, when I do, dishonour be my portion, It dawns not to me like my virgin days, And swift perdition catch me, - Join with them! But brings new thoughts and other fears upon Gar. I would not have you-Hie you to the
I tremble, and my anxious heart is pained, And join with those that love our ancient faith. Lest aught but good should happen to my GuilGather your friends about you, and be ready
ford. To assert our zealous Mary's royal title,
Guil. Nothing but good can happen to thy And doubt not but her grateful hand shall give
While thou art by his side, his better angel, To see your soul's desire upon your enemies. His blessing, and his guard. The church shall pour her ample treasures forth L. J. Gray. Why came we hither? too,
Why was. I drawn to this unlucky place, And pay you with ten thousand years of pardon. This tower, so often stained with royal blood? Pem. No; keep your blessings back, and give Here the fourth Edward's helpless - sons were me vengeance !
murdered, Give me to tell that soft deceiver, Guilford, And pious Henry fell by ruthless Gloster : Thus, traitor, hast thou done, thus hast thou Is this the place allotted for rejoicing? wronged me,
The bower adorned to keep our nuptial feast in? And thus thy treason finds a just reward ! Methinks Suspicion and Distrust dwell here, Gar. But, soft! no more: the lords o'th'coun- Staring, with ineagre forms, through grated wincil come
dows : Ha! by the mass, the bride and bridegroom too! Death lurks within, and unrelenting Punishment: Retire with me, my lord ; we must not meet Without, grim Danger, Fear, and fiercest Power, them.
Sit on the rude old towers, and gothie battle Pem. 'Tis they themselves, the cursed happy
While Horror overlooks the dreadful wall, Haste, Winchester, haste! let us fly for ever, And frowns on all around. And drive her from my very thoughts, if possible. Guil. In safety here, Oh! love, what have I lost? Oh! reverend lord ! The lords of the council have this morn decreed Pity this fond, this foolish weakness in me! To meet, and, with united care, support Methinks, I go like our first wretched father, The feeble tottering state. To thee, my princess, When from his blissful garden, he was driven : Whose royal veins are rich in Henry's blood, Like me he went despairing, and like me, With one consent the noblest heads are bawed: Thus at the gate stopt short for one last view ! From thee they ask a sanction to their counsels, Then with the cheerless partner of his woe, And from thy healing hand expect a cure
For England's loss in Edward.
Law shall prevail, and ancient right take place ; L. J. Gray. How ! from me!
Fair liberty shall lift her cheerful head, Alas! my lord—But sure thou mean'st to mock Fearless of tyranny and proud oppression ; me?
No sad complaining in our streets shall cry, Guil. No; by the love my faithful heart is But justice shall be exercised in mercy. full of!
Hail, royal Jane! behold we bend our knees, But see, thy inother, gracious Suffolk, comes
[They kneel. To intercept my story: she shall tell thee; The pledge of homage, and thy land's obedience; For in her look' I read the labouring thought, With humblest duty thus we kneel, and wn thee What vast event thy fate is now disclosing. Our liege, our sovereign lady, and our queen.
L. T. Gray. Oh, rise !
My father, rise!
(To SUFF. Duch, Suff. No more complain ; indulge thy And you, my father, too! (To North. tcars no more ;
Rise all, nor cover me with this confusion. Thy pious grief has given the grave its due :
[They rise. Let thy heart kindle with the highest hopes; What means this mock, this masquing shew of Expand thy bosom; let thy soul, enlarged,
greatness? Make rooin to entertain the coming glory! Why do you hany these pageant glories on me, For majesty and purple greatness court thee; And dress ine up in honours not my own? Homage, and low subjection, wait; a crown, North. The daughters of our late gr. at masThat makes the princes of the earth like gods ;
ter Henry, A crown, my daughter, England's crown attends, Stand both by law excluded from succession. To bind thy brows with its imperial wreath. To make all firm, L. J. Gray. Amazement chills my veins !- And fix a power unquestioned in your hand, What says my mother?
Edward, by will, bequeathed his crown to you: Duch. Suff
: 'Tis Heaven's decree; for our ex And the concurring lords, in council met, piring Edward,
Have ratified the gift. When now just struggling to his native skies, L. J. Gray. Are crowns and empire, Even on the verge of Heaven, in sight of angels, The government and safety of mankind, That hovered round to waft him to the stars, Trifles of such light moment, to be left Even then declared my Jane for his successor. Like some rich toy, a ring, or fancied gem, L. J. Gray. Could Edward do this ? could the The pledge of parting friends? Can kings do thus, dying saint
And give away a people for a legacy? Bequeath his crown to me? Oh, fatal bounty ! North, Forgive me, princely lady, if my won. To me! But 'tis impossible! We dream.
der A thousand and a thousand bars oppose me,
Seizes each sense, cach faculty of mind, Rise in my way, and intercept my passage.
To see the utmost wish the great can form, Even you, my gracious mother, what must you be, Ą. crown, thus coldly met: A crown, which, Ere I can be a queen?
slighted, Duch. Suff. That, and that only,
And left in scorn by you, shall soon be sought, Thy mother: fonder of that tender name,
And find a joyful wearer ; one, perhaps,
Of blood unkindred to your royal house,
L. J. Gray. Where art thou now, thou partTo see thee raised, thou darling of my heart,
ner of my cares
es? [Turning to Guil. And fixed upon a throne. But see; thy father, Come to my aid, and help to bear this burthen: Northumberland, with all the council, come Oh! save me from this sorrow, this misfortune, Το their vowed allegiance at thy feet, Which, in the shape of gorgeous greatness, comes To kneel, and call thee queen.
To crown, and make a wretch of me for ever! L. J. Gray. Support me, Guilford;
Guil. Thou weep’st, my queen, and hang'st Give me thy aid; stay thou my fainting soul,
thy drooping head, And help me to repress this growing danger. Like nodding poppies, heavy with the rain,
That bow their weary necks, and bend to earth. Enter SUFFOLK, NORTHUMBERLAND, Lords
See, by thy side, thy faithful Guilford stands, and others of the Privy Council. Prepared to keep distress and danger from thee, North. Hail, sacred princess! sprung from an To wear thy sacred cause upon his sword, cient kings,
And war against the world in thy defence. Our England's dearest hope, undoubted offspring North. Oh! stay this inauspicious stream of Of York and Lancaster's united line;
tears, By wbose bright zeal, by whose victorious faith, And cheer your people with one gracious smile! Guarded and fenced around, our pure religion, Nor comes your fate in such a dreadful forın, That lamp of truth, which shines upon our altars, To bid you shun it. Turn those sacred eyes Shall lift its golden head, and flourish long; On the bright prospect empire spreads before Beneath whose awful rule, and righteous sceptre,
you. The plenteous years shall roll in long succession; Methinks I see you seated on the throne;
Beneath your feet, the kingdom's great degrees That foe of justice, scorner of all law;
one, Assembled senates wait, with awful dread, And made by Heaven to be a monster's prey; To affirm your high commands, and make them That heaviest curse of groaning nations, Tyranny. fate.
Mary shall, by her kindred Spain, be taught L. J. Gray. You turn to view the painted side To bend our necks beneath a brazen yoke, of royalty,
And rule o'er wretches with an iron sceptre. And cover all the cares that lurk beneath.
L. J. Gray. Avert that judgment, Heaven! Is it, to be a queen, to sit aloft,
Whate'er thy providence allots for me, In solemn, dull, uncomfortable state,
In mercy spare my country. The flattered idol of a servile court?
Guil. Oh, my queen! Is it to draw a pompous train along,
Does not thy great, thy generous heart relent, A pageant, for the wondering crowd to gaze at? To think this land, for liberty so famed, Is it, in wantonness of power to reign,
Shall have her towery front at once laid low, And make the world subservient to my pleasure? And robbed of all its glory? Oh! my country! Is it not rather, to be greatly wretched,
Oh! fairest Albion, empress of the deep, To watch, to toil, to take a sacred charge, How have thy noblest sons, with stubborn valour, To bend each day before high heaven, and own, Stood to the last, dyed many a field in blood, This people hast thou trusted to my hand, In dear defence of birth-right and their laws! And at iny hand, I know, thou shalt require And shall those hands, which fought the cause of them?
freedom, Alas, Northumberland ! My father! Is it not Be manacled in base unworthy bonds ? To live a life of care, and, when I die,
Be tamely yielded up, the spoil, the slaves Have more to answer for before my judge, Of hare-brained zeal, and cruel coward priests? Than any of my subjects ?
L. J. Gruy. Yes, my loved lord, my soul is Duch. Sufi. Every state,
moved like thine, Allotted to the race of man below,
At every danger which invades our England; Is, in proportion, doomed to taste some sorrow, My cold heart kindles at the great occasion, Nor is the golden wreath on a king's brow And could be more than man in her defence. Exempt from care; and yet, who would not But where is my commission to redress? bear it?
Or whence my power to save? Can Edward's Think on the monarchs of our royal race:
will, They lived not for themselves : how many bles- Or twenty met in council, make a queen ? sings,
Can you, my lords, give me the power to canvass How many lifted hands shall pay thy toil, A doubtful title with king Henry's daughters? If for thy people's good thou haply borrow Where are the reverend sages of the law, Some portion from the hours of rest, and wake, To guide me with their wisdoms, and point out To give the world repose!
The paths, which right and justice bid me tread? Suff. Behold, we stand upon the brink of ruin, North. The judges all attend, and will at leiAnd only thou canst save us. Persecution, That fiend of Roine and hell, prepares her tor- Resolve you every scruple. tures ;
L. J. Gray. They expound; See where she comes in Mary's priestly train ! But where are those, my lord, that make the law? Still wilt thou doubt, till thou behold her stalk, Where are the ancient honours of the realm, Red with the blood of martyrs, and wide wasting The nobles, with the mitred fathers joined? O’er England's bosom? All the mourning year The wealthy commons solemnly assembled ? Our towns shall glow with unextinguished fires; Where is that voice of a consenting people, Our youth on racks shall stretch their crackling To pledge the universal faith with mine, bones;
And call me justly queen? Our babes shall sprawl on consecrated spears ; North. Nor shall that long Matrons and husbands, with their new-born in Be wanting to your wish. The lords and com
fants, Shall burn promiscuous; a continued peal Shall, at your royal bidding, soon assemble, Of lamentations, groans, and shrieks shall sound, And with united homage own your title. Through all our purple ways.
Delay not then the general wish, Guil. Amidst that ruin,
But be our queen, be England's better angel! Think thou behold'st thy Guilford's head laid low, Nor let mistaken piety betray you. Bloody and pale
To join with cruel Mary in our ruin : 1. J. Gruy. Oh! spare the dreadful image! Her bloody faith commands her to destroy, Guil. Oh! would the misery be bounded there, and yours forbids to save. My life were little; but the rage of Rome Guil. Our foes, already Demands whole hecatoinbs, a land of victims. High in their hopes, devote us all to death : With Superstition comes that other fiend, The dronish monks, the scorn and shame of manThat bane of peace, of arts and virtue, Tyranny;