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To nestle in their ancient Hives again ;
Again they furbih up their Holy Trumpery,
Relicks, and Wooden Wonder-working Saints,
Whole Loads of Lumber and Religious Rubbish,
In high Procession mean to bring 'em back,
And place the Puppets in their Shrines again:
While those of keener Malice, Savage Bonner,
And deep-designing Gardner, dream of Vengeance;
Devour the Blood of Innocents, in Hope ;
Like Vultures, fnuff the Slaughter in the Wind,
And specd their Flight to Havock and the Prey.
Haste then and save us, while 'tis giv'n to save
Your Country, your Religion.

North. Save your Friends!
Suff. Your Father!
Dutch. Suff. Mother! .
Guil. Husband !

L. 7. Gray, · Take me, Crown me ;
Invest me with this Royal Wretchedness;
Let me not know one happy Minute more.
Let all my sleepless Nights be spent in Care,
My Days be vex'd with Tumults and Alarms;
If only I can save you, if my Fate
Has mark'd me out to be the Publick Vi&im,
I take the Lot with Joy. Yes, I will Die
For that Eternal Truth my Faith is fix'd on,
And that dear Native Land which gave me Birth,

Guil. Wake ev'ry Tuneful Instrument to tell it,
And let the Truinper's sprightly Note proclaim
My Jane is England's Queen! Let the loud Cannon
In Peals of Thunder speak it to Augufta.


Imperial Thames, catch thou the sacred Sound,
And roll it to the subject Ocean down :
Tell the Old Deep, and all thy Brother Floods, ,
My Jane is Empress of the Watry World!
Now with glad Fires our bloodless S:reets shall shine ;-
With Cries of Joy our chearful Ways shall ring;
Thy Name shall eccho thro' the refcu'd Ille,
And reach applauding Heaven!.

L. 7. Gray. Oh, Guilford! What do we give up for Glory!
For Glory! That's a Toy I would not purchase,
An idle, empty Bubble. But for England !
What must we lose for that ! Since then my Fate
Has forc'd this hard Exchange upon my Will,
Let gracious Heav'n allow me one Request :
For that bleit Peace in which I once did dwell,.
For Books, Retirement, and my studious Cell,
For all those Joys my happier Days did prove,
For Plato and his Academick Grove;"
All that I ask, is, Tho'my Fortune frown,
And bury me beneath this fatal Crown;
Let that one Good be added to my Doom,
To save this Land from Tyranny and Rome,


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Gar. I


Gar. TN an unlucky and accursed Hour

Set forth that Traytor Duke, that proud Northumberland,
To draw his Sword upon the side of Heresy,
And War against our Mary's Royal Right:
ill Fortune fly before, and pave his Way
With Disappointment, Mischief and Defeat :
And thou, O holy Becket, the Protector,
'The Champion, and the Martyr of our Church,
Appear, and once more own the Cause of Rome ;
Beat down his Launce, break thou his Sword in Battle,
And cover foul Rebellion with Confusion.

Pem. I saw him marching at his Army's Head ;
I mark’d him issuing through the City Gate
In Harness all appointed, as he pafs’d;
And (for he wore his Beaver up) could read


Upon his Visage Horror and Dismay.
No Voice of friendly Salutation chear'd him,
None wilh'd his Arms might thrive, or bad God-speed him ;
But through a staring ghastly-looking Croud,
Unhail'd, unbless'd, with heavy Heart he weut:
As if his Traytor Father's Haggard Gholt,
And Somerset fresh bleeding from the Ax,
On either Hand had ulher'd him to Ruin.

Gar. Nor shall the holy Vengeance loiter long.
At Framingham in Suffolk lies the Queen,
Mary our pious Mistress; where each Day
The Nobles of the Land, and fwarming Populace
Gather, and Lift beneath her Royal Enfigns.
The Fleet commanded by Sir Thomas Jerningham,
Set out in warlike manner to oppose her,
With one Confent have join'd to own her Caufe :
The valiant Suffex, and Sir Edward Hastings,
With many more of Note, are up in Arms,
And all declare for Her.

Pem. The Citizens,
Who held the Noble Somerset right dear,
Hate this aspiring Dudley and his Race,
And wou'd, upon the Instant, join t'oppose him ,
Could we but draw some of the Lords o'th Council
T'appear among 'em, own the fame Design,
And bring the Rev’rend Sanction of Authority
To lead 'em into A&tion. For that Purpose,
To thee, as to an Oracle, I come
To learn what fit Expedient may be found,
To win the wary Council to our side.
Say thou, whose Head is grown thus lilver White,

In Arts of Government, and Turns of State,
How may we blast our Enemies with Ruin,
And link the curs'd Northumberland to Hell.

Gar. In happy Time be your whole Wilh accomplishid.
Since the Proud Duke set out, I have had Conference,
As fit Occasion serv’d, with divers of 'em,
The Earl of Arundel, Mafon, and Cheyney,
And find 'em all dispos'd as we could ask.
By Holy Mary, if I count aright,
To Day, the better Part shall leave this place,
And meet at Baynard's Castle in the City;
There own our Sovereign's Title, and defy
Fane, and her Gospel-Crew. But hye you hence!
This Place is still within our Foes Eommand,
Their Pupper-Queen reigns here.

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[Enter an Officer with a Guard.]

Off. Seize on 'em both.

[Gwards seize Peinbroke and Gardiner.

My Lord, you are a Prisoner to the State.

Pem. Ha! By whose Order?

Off. By the Queen's Command,
Sign'd and Deliver'd by Lord Guilford Dudley,

Pem. Curse on his Traytor's Heart !

Gar, Rest you contented:
You have loiter'd here too long; but use your Patience,
These Bonds shall not be lafting,

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