Enter Jane Shore.

Oh! You are come moft fitly. We have ponder'd
On this your Grievance: And tho' fome there are,
Nay, and those Great Ones too, who wou'd enforce
The Rigor of our Power to afflict you,

And bear a heavy Hand, yet fear not you,

We've ta'en you to our Favour, our Protection
Shall ftand between, and fhield you from Mihap.

J.Sh. The Bleffings of a Heart with Anguifh broken,
And refcu'd from Defpair, attend your Highness;
Alas! my gracious Lord! What have I done
To kindle fuch relentless Wrath against me?
If in the Days of all my paft Offences,
When most my Heart was lifted with Delight,
If I with-held my Morfel from the Hungry,
Forget the Widows Want, and Orphans Cry;
If I have known a Good I have not shar'd,
Nor call'd the Poor to take his Portion with me,
Let
my worft Enemies ftand forth, and now
Deny the Succour, which I gave not then.

Gloft. Marry there are, tho' I believe them not,
Who fay you meddle in Affairs of State:

That you prefume to prattle, like a bufy Body,
Give your Advices and teach the Lords o'th' Council
What fits the Order of the Commonweal.

7. Sh. Oh that the bufy World, at leaft in this,

Would take Example from a Wretch like me!
None then would wafte their Hours in foreign Thoughts,
Forget themselves, and what concerns their Peace,

To tread the Mazes of fantastick Falfhood,

To haunt her idle Sounds and flying Tales,

Thro

Thro' all the giddy, noify Courts of Rumour
Malicious Slander never wou'd have Leifure
To fearch with prying Eyes for Faults abroad,
If all, like me, confider'd their own Hearts,

And wept the Sorrows which they found at home.

Gloft. Go to! I know your Power, and tho' I truft not
Breath of Fame, I'm not to learn

To every
That Haftings is profefs'd your loving Vaffal.
But fair befal your Beauty: Ufe it wifely,

And it may ftand your Fortunes in much ftead;
Give back your forfeit Land with large Increase,
And place you high in Safety and in Honour :
Nay, I could point a Way, the which pursuing,
You shall not only bring your felf Advantage,

But give the Realm much worthy Caufe to thank you.

J. Sh. Oh! where or how ?--Can my unworthy Hand Become an Inftrument of Good to any ?

Inftruct your lowly Slave, and let me fly

To yield Obedience to your dread Command.

Gloft. Why that's well faid-Thus then---- Observe me well. The State, for many high and potent Reasons,

Deeming my Brother Edward's Sons unfit

For the Imperial Weight of England's Crown---
F. Sh. Alas! for Pity.

[Afide

Gloft. Therefore have refolv'd

To fet afide their unavailing Infancy,

And veft the Sovereign Rule in abler Hands..
This, tho' of great Importance to the Publick,

Haftings, for very Peevishness and Spleen,

Does ftubbornly oppofe.

J.Sh. Does he! Does Haftings!

Gloft

Glo. Ay, Haftings.

7. Sh. Reward him for the noble Deed, juft Heavens:
For this one Action, guard him and distinguish him
With fignal Mercies, and with great Deliverance-
Save him from Wrong, Adverfity and Shame.
Let never-fading Honours flourish round him,
And confecrate his Name even to Time's End:
Let him know nothing elfe but Good on Earth,
And everlasting Bleffednefs hereafter.

Gloft. How now!

J. Sh. The poor forfaken, Royal little Ones!
Shall they be left a Prey to favage Power?
Can they lift up their harmless Hands in vain,
Or cry to Heaven for Help, and not be heard?
Impoffible! Ogallant generous Haftings,
Go on, parfue! Affert the facred Caufe :
Stand forth, thou Proxy of All-ruling Providence,
And fave the friendlefs Infants from Oppreffion-
Saints fhall affift thee with prevailing Prayers,

And warring Agels combat on thy fide.

Gloft. You're paffing rich in this fame heav'nly Speech,
And spend it at your Pleafure. Nay, but mark me!
My Favour is not bought with Words like thefe.

Go to you'll teach your Tongue another Tale.

-

J. Sh. No, tho' the Royal Edward has undone me,
He was my King, my gracious Master still;
He lov'd me too, tho''twas a guilty Flame,
And fatal to my Peace; yet ftill he lov'd me;
With Fondnefs, and with Tenderness he doated,
Dwelt in my Eyes, and liv'd but in my Smiles.
And can I-Oh my Heart abhors the Thought;

Scand

Stand by, and fee his Children robb'd of Right?

Gloft. Dare not, ev'n for thy Soul, to thwart me further; None of your Arts, your Feigning, and your Foolery, Your dainty, fqueamish Coying it to me. Go-to your Lord, your Paramour, be gone; Lifp in his Ear, hang wanton on his Neck, And Play your Monkey Gambols over to him: You know my Purpose, look that you pursue it, And make him yield Obedience to my Will. Do it--or woe upon thy Harlot's Head.

J. Sh. Oh that my Tongue had ev'ry Grace of Speech, Great and Commanding as the Breath of Kings,

Sweet as the Poets Numbers, and prevailing

As foft Perfwafion to a Love-fick Maid;

That I had Art and Eloquence Divine !
To pay my Duty to my Master's Ashes,

And plead till Death the Caufe of injur'd Innocence.

Gloft. Ha! Do'st thou brave me, Minion! Do'st thou know How vile, how very a Wretch, my Pow'r can make thee; That I can let loofe Fear, Diftrefs and Famine,

To hunt thy Heels, like Hell-hounds thro' the World;
That I can place thee in fuch abject State,

As help fhall never find thee; where repining,
Thou shalt fit down, and gnaw the Earth for Anguish.
Groan to the pitilefs Winds without Return,
Howl like the Midnight Wolf amidst the Defart,
And curfe thy Life in Bitterness of Mifery?

J. Sh. Let me be branded for the publick Scorn,
Turn'd forth, and driven to wander like a Vagabond,
Be friendless and forfaken, feek my Bread

Upon the barren, wild, and defolate Wafte,

Feed

Feed on my Sighs, and drink my falling Tears 'Ere I confent to teach my Lips Injustice,

Or wrong the Orphan, who has none to fave him.

Gloft. 'Tis well-we'll try the Temper of your Heart. What hoa! Who waits without?

Enter Ratcliff, Catesby, and Attendants.

Rat, Your Highnefs Pleafure.--

Gloft. Go fome of you, and turn this Strumpet forth
Spurn her into the Street, there let her perish,
And rot upon a Dunghill. Thro' the City
See it proclaim'd, That none, on Pain of Death,
Prefume to give her Comfort, Food, or Harbours
Who minifters the fmalleft Comfort, dies.
Her House, her coftly Furniture and Wealth,
The Purchase of her loofe luxurious Life,
We feize on, for the Profit of the State.
Away! Be gone!

F. Sh. O thou most righteous Judge------
Humbly behold, I bow my felf to Thee,.
And own thy Juftice in this hard Decree:
No longer then my ripe Offences fpare,
But what I merit, let me learn to bear.
Yet fince 'tis all my Wretchednefs can give,
For my pait Crimes my forfeit Life receive;
No Pity for my Sufferings here I crave,
And only hope Forgiveness in the Grave.

[Exit J. Shore guarded by Catesby, and others,

Gloft. So much for this. Your Project's at an End: [To Rat

This idle Toy, this Hilding fcorns my Power,

And fets us all at Nought. See that a Guard
Be ready at my Call---