| Enter Alicia, with a paper. |
| |
| Alic. This paper to the great protector's hand |
| With care and secresy must be convey'd: |
| His bold ambition now avows its aim, |
| To pluck the crown from Edward's infant brow, |
| And fix it on his own. I know he holds |
| My faithless Hastings adverse to his hopes, |
| And much devoted to the orphan king; |
| On that I build: this paper meets his doubts, |
| And marks my hated rival as the cause |
| Of Hastings' zeal for his dead master's sons. |
| Oh, jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship, |
| How does thy rancour poison all our softness, |
| And turn our gentle natures into bitterness! |
| See, where she comes! once my heart's dearest blessing, |
| Now my chang'd eyes are blasted with her beauty, |
| Loath that known face, and sicken to behold her. |
| |
| Enter Jane Shore. |
| |
| Jane S. O my Alicia! |
| |
| Alic. What new grief is this? |
| What unforeseen misfortune has surpris'd thee, |
| That racks thy tender heart thus? |
| |
| Jane S. O Dumont! |
| |
| Alic. Say, what of him? |
| |
| Jane S. That friendly, honest, man, |
| Whom Belmour brought of late to my assistance, |
| On whose kind care, whose diligence and faith, |
| My surest trust was built, this very morn |
| Was seiz'd on by the cruel hand of power, |
| Forc'd from my house, and borne away to prison. |
| |
| Alic. To prison, said you? can you guess the cause? |
| |
| Jane S. Too well, I fear. His bold defence of me |
| Has drawn the vengeance of lord Hastings on him. |
| |
| Alic. Lord Hastings! ha! |
| |
| Jane S. Some fitter time must tell thee |
| The tale of my hard hap. Upon the present |
| Hang all my poor, my last remaining, hopes. |
| Within this paper is my suit contain'd; |
| Here, as the princely Gloster passes forth, |
| I wait to give it on my humble knees, |
| And move him for redress. |
| [she gives the paper to Alicia, who opens and seems to read it. |
| |
| Alic. Now for a wile, |
| To sting my thoughtless rival to the heart; |
| To blast her fatal beauties, and divide her |
| For ever from my perjur'd Hastings' eyes: |
| Their fashions are the same, it cannot fail. |
| [aside: pulling out the other paper. |
| |
| Jane S. But see, the great protector comes this way. |
| Give me the paper, friend. |
| |
| Alic. For love and vengeance! |
| [aside: she gives her the other paper. |
| Jane S. [kneeling] O noble Gloster, turn thy gracious eye, |
| Incline thy pitying ear to my complaint; |
| A poor, undone, forsaken, helpless, woman, |
| Entreats a little bread for charity, |
| To feed her wants, and save her life from perishing. |
| |
| Glos. Arise, fair dame, and dry your wat'ry eyes. |
| [receiving the paper, and raising her. |
| Beshrew me, but 'twere pity of his heart |
| That could refuse a boon to such a suitress. |
| You've got a noble friend to be your advocate; |
| A worthy and right gentle lord he is, |
| And to his trust most true. This present now |
| Some matters of the state detain our leisure; |
| Those once dispatch'd, we'll call for you anon, |
| And give your griefs redress. Go to! be comforted. |
| |
| Jane S. Good heav'ns repay your highness for this pity, |
| And show'r down blessings on your princely head. |
| Come, my Alicia, reach thy friendly arm, |
| And help me to support this feeble frame, |
| That, nodding, totters with oppressive woe, |
| And sinks beneath its load. |
| [exeunt Jane S. and Alic. |
| |
| Glos. Now by my holidame! |
| Heavy of heart she seems, and sore afflicted. |
| But thus it is when rude calamity |
| Lays its strong gripe upon these mincing minions; |
| The dainty gew-gaw forms dissolve at once, |
| And shiver at the shock. What says her paper?[seeming to read. |
| Ha! What is this? Come nearer, Ratcliffe! Catesby! |
| Mark the contents, and then divine the meaning.[he reads. |
| 'Wonder not, princely Gloster, at the notice |
| This paper brings you from a friend unknown; |
| Lord Hastings is inclin'd to call you master, |
| And kneel to Richard as to England's king; |
| But Shore's bewitching wife misleads his heart, |
| And draws his service to king Edward's sons: |
| Drive her away, you break the charm that holds him, |
| And he, and all his powers, attend on you.' |
| |
| Sir R. 'Tis wonderful! |
| |
| Cates. The means by which it came |
| Yet stranger too! |
| |
| Glos. You saw it giv'n, but now. |
| |
| Sir R. She could not know the purport. |
| |
| Glos. No, 'tis plain—— |
| She knows it not, it levels at her life; |
| Should she presume to prate of such high matters, |
| The meddling harlot, dear she should abide it. |
| |
| Cates. What hand soe'er it comes from, be assur'd, |
| It means your highness well—— |
| |
| Glos. Upon the instant, |
| Lord Hastings will be here; this morn I mean |
| To prove him to the quick; then if he flinch, |
| No more but this—away with him at once, |
| He must be mine or nothing——But he comes! |
| Draw nearer this way, and observe me well.[they whisper. |
| |
| Enter Lord Hastings. |
| |
| Lord H. This foolish woman hangs about my heart, |
| Lingers and wanders in my fancy still; |
| This coyness is put on, 'tis art and cunning, |
| And worn to urge desire——I must possess her. |
| The groom, who lift his saucy hand against me, |
| E'er this, is humbled, and repents his daring. |
| Perhaps, ev'n she may profit by th' example, |
| And teach her beauty not to scorn my pow'r. |
| |
| Glos. This do, and wait me e'er the council sits. |
| [exeunt Ratcliffe and Catesby. |
| My lord, you're well encounter'd; here has been |
| A fair petitioner this morning with us; |
| Believe me, she has won me much to pity her: |
| Alas! her gentle nature was not made |
| To buffet with adversity. I told her |
| How worthily her cause you had befriended; |
| How much for your good sake we meant to do, |
| That you had spoke, and all things should be well. |
| |
| Lord H. Your highness binds me ever to your service. |
| |
| Glos. You know your friendship is most potent with us, |
| And shares our power. But of this enough, |
| For we have other matters for your ear. |
| The state is out of tune: distracting fears, |
| And jealous doubts, jar in our public councils; |
| Amidst the wealthy city, murmurs rise, |
| Lewd railings, and reproach on those that rule, |
| With open scorn of government; hence credit, |
| And public trust 'twixt man and man, are broke. |
| The golden streams of commerce are withheld, |
| Which fed the wants of needy hinds and artizans, |
| Who therefore curse the great, and threat rebellion. |
| |
| Lord H. The resty knaves are over-run with ease, |
| As plenty ever is the nurse of faction; |
| If in good days, like these, the headstrong herd |
| Grow madly wanton and repine, it is |
| Because the reins of power are held too slack, |
| And reverend authority of late |
| Has worn a face of mercy more than justice. |
| |
| Glos. Beshrew my heart! but you have well divin'd |
| The source of these disorders. Who can wonder |
| If riot and misrule o'erturn the realm, |
| When the crown sits upon a baby brow? |
| Plainly to speak, hence comes the gen'ral cry, |
| And sum of all complaint: 'twill ne'er be well |
| With England (thus they talk) while children govern. |
| |
| Lord H. 'Tis true, the king is young: but what of that? |
| We feel no want of Edward's riper years, |
| While Gloster's valour and most princely wisdom |
| So well support our infant sov'reign's place, |
| His youth's support, and guardian to his throne. |
| |
| Glos. The council (much I'm bound to thank 'em for't) |
| Have plac'd a pageant sceptre in my hand, |
| Barren of pow'r, and subject to controul; |
| Scorn'd by my foes, and useless to my friends. |
| Oh, worthy lord! were mine the rule indeed, |
| I think I should not suffer rank offence |
| At large to lord it in the commonweal; |
| Nor would the realm be rent by discord thus, |
| Thus fear and doubt, betwixt disputed titles. |
| |
| Lord H. Of this I am to learn; as not supposing |
| A doubt like this—— |
| |
| Glos. Ay, marry, but there is—— |
| And that of much concern. Have you not heard |
| How, on a late occasion, doctor Shaw |
| Has mov'd the people much about the lawfulness |
| Of Edward's issue? By right grave authority |
| Of learning and religion, plainly proving, |
| A bastard scion never should be grafted |
| Upon a royal stock; from thence at full |
| Discoursing on my brother's former contract |
| To lady Elizabeth Lucy, long before |
| His jolly match with that same buxom widow, |
| The queen he left behind him—— |
| |
| Lord H. Ill befall |
| Such meddling priests, who kindle up confusion, |
| And vex the quiet world with their vain scruples! |
| By heav'n, 'tis done in perfect spite to peace. |
| Did not the king |
| Our royal master, Edward, in concurrence |
| With his estates assembled, well determine |
| What course the sov'reign rule should take henceforward? |
| When shall the deadly hate of faction cease, |
| When shall our long-divided land have rest, |
| If every peevish, moody, malecontent, |
| Shall set the senseless rabble in an uproar, |
| Fright them with dangers, and perplex their brains |
| Each day with some fantastic giddy change? |
| |
| Glos. What if some patriot, for the public good, |
| Should vary from your scheme, new-mould the state? |
| |
| Lord H. Curse on the innovating hand attempts it! |
| Remember him, the villain, righteous heaven, |
| In thy great day of vengeance! Blast the traitor |
| And his pernicious counsels; who, for wealth, |
| For pow'r, the pride of greatness, or revenge, |
| Would plunge his native land in civil wars! |
| |
| Glos. You go too far, my lord. |
| |
| Lord H. Your highness' pardon—— |
| Have we so soon forgot those days of ruin, |
| When York and Lancaster drew forth their battles; |
| When, like a matron butcher'd by her sons, |
| Our groaning country bled at every vein; |
| When murders, rapes, and massacres, prevail'd; |
| When churches, palaces, and cities, blaz'd; |
| When insolence and barbarism triumph'd, |
| And swept away distinction: peasants trod |
| Upon the necks of nobles: low were laid |
| The reverend crosier and the holy mitre, |
| And desolation cover'd all the land? |
| Who can remember this, and not, like me, |
| Here vow to sheath a dagger in his heart, |
| Whose damn'd ambition would renew those horrors, |
| And set once more that scene of blood before us? |
| |
| Glos. How now! so hot! |
| |
| Lord H. So brave, and so resolv'd. |
| |
| Glos. Is then our friendship of so little moment, |
| That you could arm your hand against my life? |
| |
| Lord H. I hope your highness does not think I mean it; |
| No, heav'n forfend that e'er your princely person |
| Should come within the scope of my resentment. |
| |
| Glos. O noble Hastings! nay, I must embrace you; |
| By holy Paul, you're a right honest man![embraces him. |
| The time is full of danger and distrust, |
| And warns us to be wary. Hold me not |
| Too apt for jealousy and light surmise, |
| If, when I meant to lodge you next my heart, |
| I put your truth to trial. Keep your loyalty, |
| And live your king and country's best support: |
| For me, I ask no more than honour gives, |
| To think me yours, and rank me with your friends.[exit. |
| |
| Lord H. I am not read, |
| Nor skill'd and practis'd, in the arts of greatness, |
| To kindle thus, and give a scope to passion. |
| The duke is surely noble; but he touch'd me |
| Ev'n on the tend'rest point; the master-string |
| That makes most harmony or discord to me. |
| I own the glorious subject fires my breast, |
| And my soul's darling passion stands confess'd; |
| Beyond or love's or friendship's sacred band, |
| Beyond myself, I prize my native land: |
| On this foundation would I build my fame, |
| And emulate the Greek and Roman name; |
| Think England's peace bought cheaply with my blood, |
| And die with pleasure for my country's good.[exit. |