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And doubt not but her grateful Hand fhall give you
To fee your Soul's Defire upon your Enemies.
The Church fhall pour her ample Treasures forth too,
And pay you with Ten thousand Years of Pardon.

Pem. No; keep your Bleffings back, and give me VengeGive me to tell that foft Deceiver, Guilford,

(ance. Thus, Traytor, hast thou done, thus haft thou wrong'd me, And thus thy Treafon finds a juft Reward.

Gar. But foft! no more! the Lords o'th' Council come. Ha by the Mafs! the Bride and Bridegroom too! Retire with me, my Lord, we must not-meet 'em. Pem. 'Tis they themselves the curfed happy Pair! Hafte, Winchester, hafte! let us fly for ever,

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And drive her from my very Thoughts, if possible.
Oh! Love, what have I loft! -Oh! Reverend Lord!
Pity this fond, this foolish Weakness in me!
Methinks, I go like our firft wretched Father,
When from his blifsful Garden he was driven:
Like me he went despairing, and like me,
Thus at the Gate ftopt short for one last View;
Then with the chearlefs Partner of his Woe,
He turn'd him to the world that lay below:
There, for his Eden's happy Plains, beheld
A Barren, Wild, Uncomfortable Field,
He faw 'twas vain the Ruin to deplore,
He try'd to give the fad Remembrance o'er:
The fad Remembrance ftill return'd again,
And his loft Paradife renew'd his Pain.

[Exeunt Pembroke and Gardiner,

Enter

[Enter Lord Guilford, and Lady JANE.]

Guil. What fhall I fay to thee? What Pow'r Divine
Will teach my Tongue to tell thee what I feel?
To pour the Tranfports of my Bofom forth,
And make thee Partner of the Joy dwells there?
For thou art Comfortless, full of Affliction,
Heavy of Heart as the forfaken Widow,

And defolate as Orphans. Oh, my Fair One!
Thy Edward fhines amongst the brightest Stars,
And yet thy Sorrows feek him in the Grave.

L. J. Alas, my deareft Lord! a thoufand Griefs
Befet my anxious Heart; and yet, as if

The Burthen were too little, I have added

The Weight of all thy Cares; and like the Mifer,
Increafe of Wealth has made me but more wretched.
The Morning Light feems not to rife as ufual;
It dawns not to me, like my Virgin Days,

But brings new Thoughts, and other Fears upon me;
I tremble, and my anxious Heart is pain'd,

Left ought but Good fhould happen to my Guilford.
Guil. Nothing but Good can happen to thy Guilford,
While thou art by his Side, his better Angel,

His Bleffing and his Guard.

L. J. Why came we hither?

Why was I drawn to this unlucky Place,

This Tower, fo often ftain'd with Royal Blood?

Here the Fourth Edward's helplefs Sons were murder'd,
And Pious Henry fell by Ruthlefs Glofter:

Is this the Place allotted for Rejoycing?

The Bower adorn'd to keep out Nuptial Feast in?

Methinks

Methinks Sufpicion and Distrust dwell here,
Staring with meagre Forms thro' grated Windows.
Death lurks within, and unrelenting Punishment.
Without, grim Danger, Fear, and fierceft Power
Sit on the rude old Tow'rs, and Gothick Battlements:
While Horror overlooks the dreadful Wall,
And frowns on all around.

Guil. In Safety here,

The Lords o'th' Council have this Morn decreed
To meet, and with united Care, fupport

The feeble tottering State. To thee, my Princefs,
Whofe Royal Veins are rich in Henry's Blood,
With one Confent the nobleft Heads are bow'd,
From thee they ask a Sanction to their Counfels,
And from thy healing Hand expect a Cure
For England's Lofs in Edward,

L. J. How! from me!

Alas! my Lord! But fure, thou mean'ft to mock me?
Guil, No, by the Love my faithful Heart is full of!
But fee, thy Mother, gracious Suffolk, comes

To intercept my Story: She fhall tell thee;
For in her Look I read the lab'ring Thought,

What vaft Event thy Fate is now disclosing.
[Enter the Dutchefs of Suffolk.]

Dutc Suff. No more complain, indulge thy Tears no more,
Thy Pious Grief has giv'n the Grave its Due:
Let thy Heart kindle with the highest Hopes;
Expand thy Bofom; let thy Soul inlarg'd,
Make Room to entertain the coming Glory;
For Majefty and Purple Greatnefs court thee,
Homage and low Subjection wait: A Crown,

That

That makes the Princes of the Earth like Gods;
A Crown, my Daughter, England's Crown attends,
To bind thy Brows with its Imperial Wreath.

L. J. Amazement chills my Veins! What fays my Mother? Dute. Suff. 'Tis Heav'n's Decree, for our expiring Elward, When now, juft ftruggling to his Native Skies, Ev'n on the Verge of Heav'n, in Sight of Angels, That hover'd round to waft him to the Stars,

Ev'n then declar'd my JA N-E his Succeffor.

L. J. Gray. Could Edward do this? Could the dying Saint Bequeath his Crown to me? Oh, fatal Bounty!

To me! But 'tis impoffible! We dream.

A thoufand and a thoufand Bars oppofe me,
Rife in my Way, and intercept my Paffage.

Ev'n you, my gracious Mother, what must you be,
E're I can be a Queen?

Dutc. Suff. That, and that only,

Thy Mother; fonder of that tender Name,
Than all the proud Additions Pow'r can give.
Yes, I will give up all my Share of Greatness,
And live in low Obfcurity for ever,

To fee thee rais'd, thou Darling of my Heart,
And fix'd upon a Throne. But fee! thy Father,
Northumberland, with all the Council, come
To pay their vow'd Allegiance at thy Feet,
To kneel, and call Thee Queen.

L. J. Gray. Support me, Guilford;

Give me thy Aid: Stay thou my fainting Soul,
And help me to reprefs this growing Danger.

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[Enter Suffolk, Northumberland, Lords and others of the Privy Council.]

North. Hail facred Princefs! fprung from antient Kings;
Our England's dearest Hope, undoubted Off-fpring
Of Tork and Lancaster's united Line,

By whofe bright Zeal, by whose victorious Faith,
Guarded and fenc'd around, our pure Religion,
That Lamp of Truth which shines upon our Altars,
Shall lift its golden Head, and flourish long.
Beneath whofe awful Rule, and righteous Sceptre,
The plenteous Years fhall roll in long Succeffion.
Law fhall prevail, and antient Right take Place,
Fair Liberty fhall lift her chearful Head,"
Fearlefs of Tyranny and proud Oppression.
No fad complaining in our Streets fhall cry,
But Justice shall be exercis'd in Mercy.
Hail! Royal JA NE! behold, we bend our Knees.

[They Kneel.

The Pledge of Homage, and thy Land's Obedience;
With humblest Duty thus we kneel, and own Thee
Our Liege, our Soveraign Lady, and our Queen.
L. J. Gray. Oh! rife!

My Father, rife!

And you, my Father too!

Rife all! nor cover me with this Confusion:

[To Suff. [To North.

[They rife.

What means this Mock, this mafquing Shew of Greatnefs?

Why do you hang thefe Pageant Glories on me,

And drefs me up in Honours not my own ?

North. The Daughters of our late great Master Henry Stand both by Law excluded from Succeffion.

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