A set of chosen ruffians wait to end thee:
There was but one way left me to preserve thee;
I took it; and this morning sent my warrant
To seize upon thy person-
Pem. 'Tis so- tis truth-
Guil. I have a friend of well try'd faith and courage, Who, with a fit disguise, and arms conceal'd, Attends without to guide thee hence with safety. Pem. What is Northumberland? And what art
Guil. Waste not the time.
Pem. And can I leave thee,
Ere I have clasp'd thee in my eager arms,
And giv❜n thee back my sad repenting heart?
Believe me, Guilford, like the patriarch's dove,
[Embracing. It wander'd forth, but found no resting place, Till it came home again to lodge with thee.
Guil. What is there that my soul can more desire, Than these dear marks of thy returning friendship; The danger comes▬▬▬ -If you stay longer here, You die, my Pembroke.
Pem. Let me stay and die;
For if I go, I go to work thy ruin.
Thou know'st not what a foe thou send'st me forth,
That I have sworn destruction to the
And pledg'd my faith to Mary and her cause:
My honour is at stake.
But go-the stronger thy engagements there,
The more's thy danger here. There is a Power
Who sits above the stars; in him I trust.;
All, that I have, his bounteous hand bestow'd;
And he, that gave it, can preserve it to me.
But fly! begone!
Pem. Yes, I will go-for, see! behold who comes!
Oh, Guilford! hide me, shield me from her sight;
Every mad passion kindles up again,
Love, rage, despair-and yet I will be master—
I have a thousand thousand things to say,
But cannot, dare not, stay to look on her.
[Exeunt GUILFORD and PEMBROKE
Enter LADY JANE, reading.
Lady J. G. "Tis false! The thinking soul is some.
what more
Than symmetry of atoms well dispos'd,
The harmony of matter. Farewell else
The hope of all hereafter, that new life,
That separate intellect, which must survive,
When this fine frame is moulder'd into dust.
Guil. What read'st thou there, my queen?
Lady J. G. 'Tis Plato's Phædon;
Where dying Socrates takes leave of life,
With such an easy, careless, calm indifference,
As if the trifle were of no account,
Mean in itself, and only to be worn
In honour of the Giver.
Guil. Shall thy soul
Still scorn the world, still fly the joys that court
Thy blooming beauty, and thy tender youth?
Still shall she soar on contemplation's wing,
And mix with nothing meaner than the stars;
As heaven and immortality alone
Were objects worthy to employ her faculties ?
Lady J. G. Bate but thy truth, what is there here
below
Deserves the least regard? Is it not time
To bid our souls look out, explore hereafter,
And seek some better sure abiding place;
When all around our gathering foes come on,
To drive, to sweep us from this world at once?
Guil. Does any danger new
Lady J. G. The faithless counsellors
Are fled from hence to join the Princess Mary,
The servile herd of courtiers, who so late
In low obedience bent the knee before me;
They, who with zealous tongues, and hands uplifted,
Besought me to defend their laws and faith;
Vent their lewd execrations on my name,
Proclaim me trait'ress now, and to the scaffold
Doom my devoted head.
Guil. The changeling villains!
That pray for slavery, fight for their bonds,
And shun the blessing, liberty, like ruin.
But wherefore do I loiter tamely here?
Give me my arms: I will preserve my country,
Ev'n in her own despite. Some friends I have,
Who will or die or conquer in thy cause,
Thine and religion's, thine and England's cause.
Lady J. G. Art thou not all my treasure, all my
guard?
And wilt thou take from me the only joy,
The last defence is left me here below?
Think not thy arm can stem the driving torrent,
Or save a people, who with blinded rage
Urge their own fate, and strive to be undone,
Northumberland, thy father, is in arms;
And if it be in valour to defend us,
His sword, that long has known the way to conquest, Shall be our surest safety.
Enter the DUKE of SUFFOLK.
Suff. Oh, my children!
Lady J. G. Alas! what means my father?
Suff. Oh, my son,
Thy father, great Northumberland, on whom
Our dearest hopes were built-
Guil. Ha! What of him?
Suff. Is lost! betray'd!
His army, onward as he march'd, shrunk from him,
Moulder'd away, and melted by his side;
Like falling hail thick strewn upon the ground,
Which, ere we can essay to count, is vanish'd,
With some few followers he arriv'd at Cambridge;
But there ev'n they forsook him, and himself
Was forc'd, with heavy heart and wat'ry eye,
To cast his cap up, with dissembled cheer,
And сгу, God save queen Mary. But, alas !
Little avail'd the semblance of that loyalty:
For soon thereafter, by the Earl of Arundel,
With treason he was charg'd, and there arrested;
And now he brings him pris'ner up to London.
Lady J. G. Then there's an end of greatness: the
Of empire, and a crown that danc'd before me,
With all those unsubstantial empty forms:
Waiting in idle mockery around us;
The gaudy masque, tedious, and nothing meaning,
Is vanish'd all at once- -Why, fare it well.
Guil. And canst thou bear this sudden turn of fate, With such unshaken temper?
Lady J. G. For myself,
If I could form a wish for Heav'n to grant,
It should have been, to rid me of this crown.
And thou, o'erruling, great, all knowing Power!
Thou, who discern'st our thoughts, who see'st them rising
And forming in the soul! Oh, judge me, thou,
If e'er ambition's guilty fires have warm'd me,
If e'er my heart inclin❜d to pride, to power,
Or join'd in being a queen. I took the sceptre
To save this land, thy people, and thy altars:
And now, behold, I bend my grateful knee,
In humble adoration of that mercy,
Which quits me of the vast unequal task.
Enter the DUCHESS of SUFFOlk.
Duchess S. Nay, keep that posture still, and let us join,
Fix all our knees by thine, lift up our hands,
And seek for help and pity from above,
For earth and faithless man will give us none.
Lady J. G. What is the worst our cruel fate or dains us?
Duchess S. Curs'd be my fatal counsels, curs'd my tongue,
That pleaded for thy ruin, and persuaded
Thy guiltless feet to tread the paths of greatness!
My child- -I have undone thee!
Should I not bear a portion in your sorrows? Duchess S. Alas, thou hast thy own, a double por
Mary is come, and the revolting Londoners,
Who beat the heav'ns with thy applauded name,
Now crowd to meet, and hail her as their queen.
Sussex is enter'd here, commands the Tower,
Has plac'd his guards around, and this sad place,
So late thy palace, is become our prison.
I saw him bend his knee to cruel Gardiner,
Who, freed from his confinement, ran to meet him,
Embrac'd and bless'd him with a hand of blood;
Each hast'ning moment I expect them here,
To seize, and pass the doom of death upon us.
Guil. Ha! seiz'd! Shalt thou be seiz'd ? and shall
I stand,
And tamely see thee borne away to death?
Then blasted be my coward name for ever.
No, I will set myself to guard this spot,
To which our narrow empire now is shrunk :
Here I will grow the bulwark of my queen;
Nor shall the hand of violence profane thee,
Until my breast have borne a thousand wounds,
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