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Second Gentleman. She looks comelier age, and his breakage, if that were all. Will than ordinary to-day; but to my mind the you not follow the procession ? Lady Elizabeth is the more noble and Second Gentleman. No; I have seen royal.

enough for this day. First Gentleman. I mean the Lady First Gentleman. Well, I shall follow; Elizabeth. Did you hear (I have a daugli- if I can get near enough I shall judge with ter in her service who reported it) that she my own eyes whether her Grace incline to met the Queen at Wanstead with five hun- this splendid scion of Plantagenet. dred horse, and the Queen (tho' some say

[Exeunt. they be much divided) took her hand, cali'd her sweet sister, and kiss'd not her

SCENE II alone, but all the ladies of her following. 80

Second Gentleman. Ay, that was in her A Room IN LAMBETH PALACE hour of joy. There will be plenty to sunder and unsister them again; this Gardiner for Cranmer. To Strasburg, Antwerp, Frankone, who is to be made Lord Chancellor,

fort, Zurich, Worms, and will pounce like a wild beast out of his Geneva, Basle — our bishops from their cage to worry Cranıner.

First Gentleman. And, furthermore, my Or fled, they say, or flying — Poinet, Bardanghter said that when there rose a talk

low, of the late rebellion, she spoke even of Bale, Scory, Coverdale ; besides the deans Northumberland pitifully, and of the good Of Christchurch, Durham, Exeter, and Lady Jane as a poor innocent child who

Wells had but obeyed her father; and, further- Ailmer and Bullingham, and hundreds more, she said that no one in her time

more; should be burnt for heresy.

So they report. I shall be left alone. Second Gentleman. Well, sir, I look for No; Hooper, Ridley, Latimer, will not fly. happy times. First Gentleman. There is but one thing

Enter PETER MARTYR. against them. I know not if


know. Peter Martyr. Fly, Cranmer! Second Gentleman. I suppose you touch there nothing else, your name upon the rumor that Charles, the master of Stands first of those who sign'd the letters the world, has offer'd her his son Philip,

patent the Pope and the devil. I trust it is but That gave her royal crown to Lady Jane.

Cranmer. Stand first it may, but it was First Gentleman. She is going now to

written last. the Tower to loose the prisoners there, and Those that are now her privy council among them Courtenay, to be made Earl

sign'd of Devon, of royal blood, of splendid fea- Before me; nay, the judges had pronounced ture, whom the council and all her people That our young Edward might beqneath wish her to marry. May it be so, for we

the crown are many of us Catholics, but few Papists, Of England, putting by his father's will. and the Hot Gospellers will go mad upon Yet I stood out, till Edward sent for me. it.

The wan boy - king, with his fast - fading Second Gentleman. Was she not be

eyes troth'd in her babyhood to the Great Em- Fixt hard on mine, his frail transparent peror himself ?

hand, First Gentleman. Ay, but he's too old. Damp with the sweat of death, and griping Second Gentleman. And again to her

mine, cousin Reginald Pole, now Cardinal; but Whisper'd me, if I loved him, not to yield I hear that he too is full of aches and bro- His Church of England to the Papal wolf ken before his day.

And Mary; then I could no more .] First Gentleman. Oh, the Pope could sign’d. dispense with his cardinalate, and his ach- Nay, for bare shame of inconsistency,


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I will go


She cannot pass her traitor council by, Cranmer. I wrote it, and God grant me To make me headless.

power to buru ! Peter Martyr. That might be forgiven. Peter Martyr. They have given me a I toll you, :ly, my lord. You do not own

safe conduct; for all that The bodily presence in the Eucharist, I dare not stay. I fear, I fear, I see you, Their wafer and perpetual sacrifice: Dear friend, for the last time; farewell Your creed will be your death.

and fly. Cranmer.

Step after step, Cranmer. Fly and farewell, and let me Thro' many voices crying right and left,

die the death, Have I climb'd back into the primal

[Erit Peter Martyr. church,

Enter OLD SERVANT. And stand within the porch, and Christ with me.

0, kind and gentle master, the Queen's My flight were such scandal to the faith,

Officers The downfall of so many simple souls, Are here in force to take you to the Tower. I dare not leave my post.

Cranmer. Ay, gentle friend, admit them Peter Martyr.


Queen Catharine and her father; hence, her I thank my God it is too late to fly.

[Exeunt. Will burn till you are burn'd. Cranmer.

I cannot help it. The Canonists and Schoolmen were with me.

SCENE III • Thou shalt not wed thy brother's wife.' 'T is written,

St. Paul's CROSS • They shall be childless.' True, Mary was born,

FATHER BOURNE in the pulpit. A crowd. But France would not accept her for a MARCHIONESS OF EXETER, COURTENAY. bride

The SIEUR DE NOAILLES and his man As being born from incest; and this Roger in front of the stage. Hubbut.

wrought Upon the King; and child by child, you

Noailles. Hast thou let fall those papers know,

in the palace ? Were momentary sparkles, out as quick Roger. Ay, sir. Almost as kindled; and he brought his Noailles. There will be no peace for doubts

Mary till Elizabeth lose her head.' And fears to me. Peter, I'll swear for Roger. Ay, sir. him

Noailles. And the other, Long live He did believe the bond incestnous.

Elizabeth the Queen !' But wherefore am I trenching on the time Roger. Ay, sir; she needs must tread That should already have seen your steps a mile


Well. From me and Lambeth ? God be with These beastly swine make such a grunting you! Go.

here, Peter Martyr. Ah, but how fierce a letter I cannot catch what Father Bourne is sayyou wrote against

ing. Their superstition when they slander'd you Roger. Quiet a moment, my masters; For setting up a mass at Canterbury hear what the shaveling has to say for himTo please the Queen !

self. Cranmer. It was a wheedling monk Crowd. Hush — hear! Set up the mass.

Bourne. - and so this unhappy land Peter Martyr. I know it, my good lord. long divided in itself, and sever'd from the But you so bubbled over with hot terms faith, will return into the one true fold, Of Satan, liars, blasphemy, Antichrist, seeing that our gracious Virgin Queen She never will forgive you. Fly, my lord, bath ily!

Crowd. No pope ! no pope !

upon them.






Roger (to those about him, mimicking

Noailles. These birds of passage come Bourne). — hath sent for the holy legate of

before their time. the holy father the Pope, Cardinal Pole, tn Stave off the crowd upon the Spaniard give us all that holy absolution which

there. First Citizen. Oid Bourne to the life ! Roger. My masters, yonder 's fatter Second Citizen. Holy absolution ! holy game for you Inquisition !

Than this old gaping gurgoyle; look you Third Citizen. Down with the Papist !


[Hubbub. The Prince of Spain coming to wed our Bourne. — and now that your good

Queen ! bishop, Bonner, who hath lain so long un- After him, boys ! and pelt him from the city. der bonds for the faith

[Hubbub. [They seize stones and follow the SpanNoailles. Friend Roger, steal thou in

iards. Exeunt on the other side Maramong the crowd,

chioness of Exeter and Attendants. And get the swine to shout · Elizabeth. 30 Noailles (to Roger). Stand from me. Yon gray old Gospeller, sour as midwir

If Elizabeth lose her head ter,

That makes for France, Begin with him.

And if her people, anger'd thereupon, Roger (goes). By the mass, old friend, Arise against her

and dethrone the Queen we'll have no pope here while the Lady That makes for France. Elizabeth lives.

And if I breed confusion any way Gospeller. Art thou of the true faith, That makes for France. fellow, that swearest by the mass ?

Good-day, my Lord of Devon; Roger. Ay, that am I, new converted, A bold heart yours to beard that raging but the old leaven sticks to my tongue yet.

mob! First Citizen. He says right; by the Courtenay. My mother said, Go up;

and mass, we 'll have no mass here.

up I went. Voices of the Crowd. Peace ! hear him; I knew they would not do me any wrong, let his own words damn the Papist. From For I am mighty popular with them, thine own mouth I judge thee tear him

Noailles. down !

Noailles. You look'd a king. Bourne. - and since gracious Courtenay. Why not? I am king's Queen, let me call her our second Virgin

blood. Mary, hath begun to re-edify the true Noailles. And in the whirl of change temple

may come to be one. First Citizen, Virgin Mary ! we'll have Courtenay. Ah ! no virgins here we'll have the Lady Noailles. But does your gracious Queen Elizabeth !

entreat you kinglike


Courtenay. 'Fore God, I think she en[Swords are drawn, a knife is hurled

treats me like a child. and sticks in the pulpit. The mob

Noailles. You ’ve but a dull life in this throng to the pulpit stairs.

maiden court, Marchioness of Exeter. Son Courtenay, I fear, my lord ? wilt thou see the holy father


A life of nods and yawns, Murdered before thy face? up, son, and Noailles. So you would honor my poor save him !

house to-night, They love thee, and thou canst not come to We might enliven you. Divers honest, harm.

fellows, Courtenay in the pulpit). Shame, shame, The Duke of Suffolk lately freed from

my masters ! are you English-born, prison, And set yourselves by hundreds against Sir Peter Carew and Sir Thomas Wyatt,

Sir Thomas Stafford, and some more - we Crowd. A Courtenay ! a Courtenay !

play. [A train of Spanish servants crosses at Courtenay. At what ? the back of the stage.

Noailles. The game of chess




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The game of chess ! I can play well, and I shall beat you there. Noailles. Ay, but we play with Henry,

King of France, And certain of his court. His Highness makes his moves across the

Channel, We answer him with ours, and there are

messengers That go between us. Courtenay. Why, such a game, sir, were

whole years a-playing: Noailles. Nay; not so long I trust.

That all depends
Upon the skill and swiftness of the play-

Courtenay. The King is skilful at it ?

Very, my Lord.
Courtenay. And the stakes high ?
Noailles. But not beyond your means.
Courtenay. Well, I 'm the first of play-

I shall win.
Noailles. With our advice and in our

company, And so you well attend to the King's

I think you may.

Courtenay. When do you meet ?

Courtenay (aside). I will be there; the

fellow 's at bis tricks Deep – I shall fathom him. (Aloud.) Good morning, Noailles.

[Exit Courtenay. Noailles. Good-day, my Lord. Strange

game of chess! a king That with her own pawns plays against &

queen, Whose play is all to find herself a king. Ay; but this fine blue-blooded Courtenay Too princely for a pawn. Call him a

knight, That, with an ass's, not a horse's head, Skips every way, from levity or from

fear. Well, we shall use him somehow, so that

Gardiner And Simon Renard spy not out our game Too early. Roger, thinkest thou that any

Courtenay. So yet am I, Unless my friends and mirrors lie to me, A goodlier-looking fellow than this Philip. Pah ! The Queen is ill advised. Shall I turn

traitor ? They 've almost talked me into it; yet the

word Affrights me somewhat; to be such a one As Harry Bolingbroke hath a lure in it. Good now, my Lady Queen, tho' by your

age And by your looks you are not worth the

having, Yet by your crown you are.

[Seeing Elizabeth.

The Princess there ? If I tried her, and la - she 's amorous. Have we not heard of her in Edward's

time, Her freaks and frolics with the late Lord

Admiral ? I do believe she'd yield. I should be still A party in the State; and then, who

knows Elizabeth. What are you musing on, my

Lord of Devon ? Courtenay. Has not the Queen Elizabeth.

Done what, Sir ? Courtenay.

- made you follow The Lady Suffolk and the Lady Lennox ?

you, 'The heir presumptive. Elizabeth. Why do you ask ? you know

it. Courtenay. You needs must bear it

hardly. Elizabeth. No, indeed! I am utterly submissive to the Queen. Courtenay. Well, I was musing upon

that; the Queen Is both my foe and yours; we should be

friends. Elizabeth. My Lord, the hatred of an

other to us Is no true bond of friendship. Courtenay:

Might it not Be the rough preface of some closer bond'




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Elizabeth. My lord, you late were loosed

from out the Tower, Where, like a butterfly in a chrysalis, You spent your life; that broken, out you

flutter Thro' the new world, go zigzag, now would

settle Upon this flower, now that. But all things

here at court are known; you have solicited The Queen, and been rejected. Courtenay.

Flower, she ! Half faded ! but you, cousin, are fresh and

sweet As the first flower no bee has ever tried. Elizabeth. Are you the bee to try me?

wby, but now I called you butterfly. Courtenay.

You did me wrong, I love not to be called a butterfly. Why do you call me butterfly ?

Elizabeth. Why do you go so gay then ? Courtenay.

Velvet and gold. This dress was made me as the Earl of

Devon To take my seat in; looks it not right

royal ? Elizabeth. So royal that the Queen for

bade you wearing it. Courtenay. I wear it then to spite her. Elizabeth.

My lord, i see you in the Tower again. Her Ma

jesty Hears


affect the Prince — prelates


Courtenay. Great, said you ? nay, you

shall be great. I love you, Lay my life in your hands. Can


be close ? Elizabeth. Can you, my lord ?

Courtenay. Close as a miser's casket. Listen: The King of France, Noailles the Ambas

sador, The Duke of Suffolk and Sir Peter Carew, Sir Thomas Wyatt, I myself, some others, Have sworn this Spanish marriage shall

not be. If Mary will not hear us — - well — conjec

ture Were I in Devon rith my wedded bride, The people there so worship me — - your ear;

69 You shall be Queen.

Elizabeth. You speak too low, my lord; I cannot hear you.

Courtenay. I 'll repeat it.

No! Stand further off, or you may lose your

head. Courtenay. I have a head to lose for

your sweet sake. Elizabeth. Have you, my lord ? Best

keep it for your own. Nay, pout not, cousin. Not many friends are mine, except indeed Among the many. I believe you mine: And so you may continue mine, farewell, And that at once.

Enter Mary, behind. Mary. Whispering - leagued together To bar me from my Philip. Courtenay.

Pray – consider – Elizabeth (seeing the Queen). Well,

that's a noble horse of yours, my

lord. I trust that he will carry you well to-day, And heal


headache. Courtenay. You are wild; what head

ache ? Heartache, perchance; not headache. Elizabeth (aside to Courtenay). Are you

blind ? [Courtenay sees the Queen and exit.

Exit Mary. Enter LORD WILLIAM HOWARD. Howard. Was that my Lord of Devon ?

do not you

my lord;

kneel to you.



Courtenay. I am the noblest blood in

Europe, Madam, A Courtenay of Devon, and her cousin. Elizabeth. She hears you make your

boast that after all She means to wed you. Folly, my good

lord. Courtenay. How folly ? a great party in

the state Wills me to wed her.

Elizabeth. Failing her, my lord, Doth not as great a party in the State Will you to wed me ? Courtenay.

Even so, fair lady. Elizabeth. You know to flatter ladies. Courtenay.

Nay, I meant True matters of tbe heart. Elizabeth.

My heart, my lord, Is no great party in the State as yet.

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