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L. J. G. Still wilt thou frame thy Speech to this vain Purpose,

When the wan King of Terrors stalks before us,

When Univerfal Ruin gathers round,

And no Efcape is left us? Are we not,

Like Wretches in a Storm, whom ev'ry Moment
The greedy Deep is gaping to devour ?
Around us fee the pale defparing Crew,

Wring their fad Hands, and give their Labour over;
The Hope of Life has ev'ry Heart forfook,

And Horror fits on each distracted Look,

One folemn Thought of Death does all employ,
And cancels, like a Dream, Delight and Joy;
One Sorrow ftreams from all their weeping Eyes,
And one confenting Voice for Mercy cries;
Trembling, they dread juft Heav'ns avenging Power,
Mourn their past Lives, and wait the fatal Hour.

[Exeunt.

The End of the First Act.

ACT.

XX

ACT II. SCENE I.

Scene Continues.

Enter the Duke of NORTHUMBERLAND,
and the Duke of SUFFOLK.

Nor. Y

ET then be chear'd my Heart amidst thy Mourning.

Tho' Fate hang heavy o'er us, tho' pale Fear

And wild Distraction fit on ev'ry Face,

Tho' never Day of Grief was known like this,
Let me rejoyce, and bless the hallowed Light,
Whofe Beams aufpicious fhine upon our Union,
And bid me call the Noble Suffolk Brother.

Suff. I know not what my fecret Soul prefages,
But fomething feems to whisper me within,
That we have been too hafty. For my felf;
I wish this Matter had been yet delay'd;

That we had waited fome more bleffed Time,
Some better Day with happier Omens hallowed,
For Love to kindle up his holy Flame.

But you, my Noble Brother, wou'd prevail,
And I have yielded to you.

Norths

North. Doubt not any thing;

Nor.hold the Hour unlucky, That good Heaven,
Who foftens the Corrections of his Hand,
And mixes ftill a Comfort with Afflictions,
Has giv'n to Day a Bleffing in our Children,
To wipe away our Tears for dying Edward.

Suff. In that I truft. Good Angels be our Guard,
And make my Fears prove vain. But fee! My Wife !
With her, your Son, the generous Guilford comes,
She has inform'd him of our prefent Purpose.

[Enter the Dutchess of Suffolk, and Lord Guilford.]
L. Guil. How fhall I fpeak the Fulnefs of my Heart?
What shall I fay, to blefs you for this Goodnefs?
Oh! Gracieus Princefs! But my Life is your's,
And all the Bufinefs of my Years to come,
Is, to attend with humbleft Duty on you,

And pay my vow'd Obedience at your Feet.

Dute, Suff. Yes, Noble Youth, I fhare in all thy Joys, In all the Joys which this fad Day can give.

The dear Delight I have to call thee Son,

Comes like a Cordial to my drooping Spirits;
It broods with gentle Warmth upon my Bofom,
And melts that Frost of Death which hung about me.
But hafte! Inform my Daughter of our Pleafure;
Let thy Tongue put on all its pleafing Eloquence,
Infruct thy Love to fpeak of Comfort to her,
To both her Griefs, and chear the mourning Maid.
Nor b. All defolate and drown'd in flowing Tears,
By Llward's Bed the Pious Princefs fits

Faft

Faft from her lifted Eyes the Pearly Drops

Fall trickling o'er her Cheek, while Holy Ardor
And fervent Zeal pour forth her lab'ring Soul;
And ev'ry Sigh is wing'd with Pray'rs so potent,
As ftrive with Heav'en to fave her dying Lord.

Dute. Suff. From the first early Days of Infant Life,
A gentle Band of Friendship grew betwixt 'em ;
And while our Royal Uncle Henry reign'd,
As Brother and as Sifter bred together,

Beneath one common Parent's Care they liv'd...
North. A wondrous Sympathy of Souls confpir'd
To form the Sacred Union. Lady JA NE,
Of all his Royal Blood, was still the dearest :
In ev'ry Innocent Delight they fhar'd,

They fung and danc'd, and fat, and walk'd together.
Nay, in the graver Business of his Youth,

When Books and Learning call'd him from his Sports,
Ev'n there the Princely Maid was his Companion.

She left the fhining Court to fhare his Toil,
To turn with him the grave Historian's Page,
And taste the Rapture of the Poet's Song;
To fearch the Latin and the Grecian Stores,
And wonder at the mighty Minds of old.

[Enter Lady JANE GRAY weeping.]

L. J. Gray. Wo't thou not break, my Heart!.
Suff. Alas! What mean'ft thou?

Guil. Oh, fpeak!

Dutch, Suff. How fares the King?

North, Say! Is he dead?

E. J. Gray

L. J. Gray. The Saints and Angels have him.

Dutc, Suff. When I left him,

He feem'd a little chear'd, just as you enter'd.

L. J. Gray. As I approach'd to kneel and pay my Duty,
He rais'd his feeble Eyes, and faintly finiling,

Are you then come? he cry'd. I only liv'd
To bid farewel to thee, my gentle Coufin,
To fpeak a few short Words to thee, and die.
With that he preft my Hand, and Oh!- he faid,
When I am gone, do thou be good to England;
Keep to that Faith in which we both were bred,
And to the End be conftant. More I wou'd,

But cannot.

There his falt'ring Spirits fail'd,
And turning ev'ry Thought from Earth at once,
To that bleft Place where all his Hopes were fix'd,
Merciful, Great Defender!

Earneft he pray'd,

Preferve thy Holy Altars undefil'd,

Protect this Land from bloody Men and Idols,
Save my poor People from the Yoke of Rome,
And take thy painful Servant to thy Mercy.
Then finking on his Pillow, with a Sigh,
He breath'd his innocent and faithful Soul
Into his Hands who gave it.

Guil. Crowns of Glory,

Such as the brightest Angels wear, be on him
Peace guard his Ashes here, and Paradife

With all its endless Blifs be open to him.

;

North. Our Grief be on his Grave. Our prefent Duty Injoins to fee his last Commands obey'd.

I hold it fit his Death be not made known

To any but our Friends. To Morrow early

The

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