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And dwells with hoary Hermits; there forget my self,

There fix my stupid Eyes upon the Earth,

And mufe away an Age in deepest Melancholy.

[Enter Pembroke.}

Pem, Edward is dead: So faid the Great Northumberland,

As now he fhot along by me in Hafte.·

He prefs'd my Hand, and in a Whisper, beg'd me

To guard the Secret carefully as Life,

Till fome few Hours fhou'd pafs; for much hung on it.

Much may indeed hang on it. See my Guilford!

My Friend!

Guil. Ha! Pembroke!

Pem. Wherefore doft thou ftart?

Why fits that wild Diforder on thy Visage,

(Speaking to him.

(Starting.

Somewhat that looks like Paffions strange to thee,
'The Palenefs of Surprize and gaftly Fear?

Since I have known thee firft, and call'd thee Friend,
I never faw thee fo unlike thy felf,

So chang'd upon the fudden.

Guil. How! So chang'd!

Pem. So to my Eye thou seem'ft,

Guil. The King is dead.

Pem. I learn'd it from thy Father,
Juft as I enter'd here. But fay cou'd that,

A Fate which ev'ry Moment we expected,

Diflract thy Thought, or fhock thy Temper thus?

Guil. Oh, Pembroke 'Tis in vain to hide from thee; For thou has look'd into my artlefs Bofom,

And feen at once the Hurry of my Soul.

Tis true, thy coming, ftruck me with Surprize.

I have

I have a Thought

-But wherefore faid I One?

I have a Thoufand Thoughts all up in Arms,
Like populous Towns difturb'd at dead of Night,
That mixt in Darkness, buftle too and fro,

As if their Bufinefs were to make Confufion.

Pem. Then fure our better Angels call'd me hither.
For this is Friendship's Hour, and Friendship's Office,
To come when Counfel and when Help is wanting,
To share the Pain of every gnawing Care,
To fpeak of Comfort in the Time of Trouble,
To reach a Hand, and fave thee from Adversity.
Guil. And wo't thou be a Friend to me indeed?
And while I lay my Bofom bare before thee,

Wo't thou deal tenderly, and let thy Hand
Pafs gently over ev'ry painful Part?

Wo't thou with Patience hear, and judge with Temper?
And if perchance thou meet with somewhat harsh,
Somewhat to rouze thy Rage, and grate thy Soul,
Wo't thou be Master of thy self, and bear it?

Pem. Away with all this needlefs Preparation.
Thou know'ft thou art fo dear, fo facred to me,
That I can never think thee an Offender.
If it were fo, that I indeed muft judge thee,
I should take part with thee against my felf,
And call thy Fault a Virtue.

Guil. But fuppofe

The Thought were fomewhat that concern'd our Love.

Pem. No more, thou know'st we fpoke of that to Day,

And on what Terms we left it. 'Tis a Subject,

Of which, if poffible, I wou'd not think.

I beg that we may mention it no more.

Guil. Can we not speak of it with Temper?

Pem. No.

Thou know'ft I cannot. Therefore, prithee fpare it.
Guil. Oh! Cou'd the Secret, I would tell thee, fleep,
And the World never know it, my fond Tongue
Shou'd ceafe from speaking, e're I would unfold it,
Or vex thy Peace with an officious Tale.
But fince, howe'er ungrateful to thy Ear,
It must be told thee once, hear it from me.

Pem. Speak then and ease the Doubts that shock my Soul
Guil. Suppofe thy Guilford's better Stars prevail,

And crown his Love.

Pem. Say not, Suppose: 'Tis done.

Seek not for vain Excufe, or foft'ning Words;
Thou haft prevaricated with thy Friend,
By under-hand Contrivances undone me ;-
And while my open Nature trusted in thee,
Thou haft ftep'd in between me and my Hopes,
And ravish'd from me all my Soul held dear.
Thou haft betray'd me-- IN

Guil. How! betray'd thee? Pembroke!

Bem. Yes, falfly, like a Traytor.

Guil. Have a Care.

Pem. But think not I will bear the foul Play from thee.

There was but this which I cou'd ne'er forgive.

My Soul is up in Arms, my injur❜d Honour,

Impatient of the Wrong, calls for Revenge;
And tho' I lov'd thee-fondly-

Guil. Hear me yet,

And

And Pembroke fhall acquit me to himself.

Hear, While I tell how Fortune dealt between us,"

And gave the yielding Beauty to my Arms.

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Pem. What, hear it! Stand and liften to thy Triumph! Thou think'ft me tame indeed. No, hold, I charge thee,

Left I forget that ever we were Friends,

Left in the Rage of difappointed Love,

Irush at once, and tear thee for thy Falfhood.

Guil. Thou warn'ft me well; and I were rafh, as thou art,

To trust the fecret Suin of all my Happiness,

With one not Master of himself. Farewel.

Pem. Ha! Art thou going? Think not thus to part,

Nor leave me on the Rack of this Incertainty.

Guil. What would'ft thou further?

Pem. Tell it to me all.

Say thou art marry'd, fay thou haft poffefs'd her,
And rioted in vaft Excefs of Blifs;

That I may curfe my felf, and thee, and her.

Come, tell me how thou didst supplant thy Friend?
How didft thou look with that betraying Face,

And fmiling, plot my Ruin?

Guil. Give me Way.

When thou art better temper'd, I may tell thee,

And vindicate, at full, my Love and Friendship.

[Going.

Pem. And doft thou hope to fhun me then, thou Traytor! No, I will have it now, this Moment, from thee,

Or Drag the Secret out from thy falfe Heart.

Guil. A way, thou Madman! I would talk to Winds, And reafon with the rude tempeftuous Surge,

Sooner than hold Difcourfe with Rage like thine.

Pem

Pem. Tell it, or by my injur'd Love I swear,

[Laying his Hand upon his Sword.

I'll ftab the lurking Treafon in thy Heart.

Guil. Ha! Stay thee there; nor let thy frantick Hand

Unfheath thy Weapon. If the Sword be drawn,

If once we meet on Terms like thofe ; Farewel

To ev'ry Thought of Friendship; one must fall.

[Stopping him.

Pem. Curfe on thy Friendship, I would break the Band.
Guil. That as you please----Beside, this Place is facred,
And wo'not be profan'd with Brawls and Outrage.
You know, I dare be found on any Summons.

Pem. 'Tis well. My Vengeance shall not loiter long,
Henceforward let the Thoughts of our past Lives
Be turn'd to deadly and remorfelefs Hate.
Here I give up the empty Name of Friend,
Renounce all Gentlenefs, all Commerce with thee,
To Death defie thee as my mortal Foe;

And when we meet again, may swift Destruction
Rid me of thee, or rid me of my self.

[Exit Pembroke.

Guil. The Fate I ever fear'd, is fall'n upon me ;
And long ago my boding Heart divin'd

A Breach, like this, from his ungovern'd Rage.
Oh, Pembroke! Thou haft done me much Injustice,
For I have born thee true unfeign'd Affection.
Tis past, and thou art loft to me for ever.
Love is, or ought to be, our greatest Blifs,
Since ev'ry other Joy, how dear foever,
Gives way to that, and we leave all for Love.
At the Imperious Tyrant's lordly Call,
In fpite of Reafon and Reftraint we come,

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