KING Edward the Third, WITH THE FALL OF MORTIMER EARL OF MARCH.  
An Historical Play, As it is Acted at the THEATRE ROYAL, By their Majesty's Servants.  
London, Printed for I. Hindmarsh at the Golden-Ball against the Royal-Exchange. R. Bently in russel-street in Covent-Garden. A. Reper in Fleetstreet near Temple-Barr, and Randall Tailor near Stationers-Hall in Ludgate-street. 1691.   

To the Right Honourable HENRY Lord Viscount SIDNEY of Sheppey, one of the Lords of their Majesty's most Honourable Trivy-Council, Principal Secretary of State in this Kingdom, one of the Lords justices of Ireland, and Lord Lieutenant of the County of Kent.  
My Lord,  
WEre not your goodness Equal with your Greatness, I durst not presume to lay this humble offering before you; But as in distress, the Poorer the object, the Nobler the Charity; so in my Circumstances, the meaner the Dedicator, the more worthy and esteemed will be the Condescending Patronage of your Lordship. Nor ought I to doubt your Generous favours, since your Predecessors were always great Encouragers of Poetry.  
I must not omit the Renowned Sr. Philip Sidney (whose Father was thrice Lord Deputy of Ireland) which was not only an Admirable Writer (besides his vast Accomplishments in other things) But so Indulgent a Patron to the Sons of the Muses, that the famous Spencer Dedicated his Works to him as the only Person Capable of Espousing 'em. But this Illustrious Worthy was at last taken from us (tho' to the Eternal honour of the English in that Glorious and never to be forgotten Action in the Low-Countries, the battle of Zutphen in Gelderland.  
But I go too far from my purpose;  
My Lord, I could not help my presumption in begging your Protection of this Play, it being a Present to me, and an English Story so famed for the Reign of its Monarch, and the management of those few good Men about him, who with great difficulty preserved this Prince from the evil Machinations of Mortimer and his Faction, from the Potent Enemies of an Interested State; and the unnatural Connivance of a Mother (who designed as much to usurp his Right as she really did destroy his Fathers) and the delivering their Country from the Tyranny and Oppression it had been long afflicted with, and which in all probability threatened the total overthrow of the Established Liberties of the Subject. I say, these weighty Motives induced me to Consecrate this Piece to your Lordship, as a true bred Son of the Country, and a Person who has always valued the freedom of his Native Brethren, above the Temptations of a prejudiced and designing Court.  
If Preferment could have drawn you from your esteem to the Public, never bait was better managed then that which was offered to decoy your Lordship: But you stood it out with the Resolution of Sr. Robert Holland, went on with the sincerity and Prudence of Sr. Tho. Delamore, and maintained it with the spirit of Lord Montacute.  
The World cannot be insensible of the unalterable esteem the Family of the Sydney's have constantly shown both in their Endeavours and Sufferings for the benefit of the Common-Weal. And sure (if we are honest to ourselves) we must thrive since those who always opposed the Enemies of our Country have with much Patience and Diligence overcome their Industrious Mischiefs, and have now the care of what they've so hard tugged for.  
We have a King who thinks his Life no longer useful than when employed for the service of his People; We have a Parliament steadfast and generous, the Public Employments in the hands of Men of Worth, Fortunes, and Honour: (not liable to be bribed from abroad) The necessary part of the Nation satisfied and United with a Providence that has proved (by its care of our Monarch, both abroad and at home) how our choice is esteemed above.  
That these blessings may not be withdrawn is surely the hearty Prayer of all the Well-Affected; and that the Country may never want a Friend like your Lordship is the zealous wish of him who shall always beg the Honour of subscribing himself,  
Your Lordship's most Obedient, Obliged and Dutiful Servant. Will. Mountfort.   

PROLOGUE.  
Spoken by Mr. powel.  
I Can but think how many here are come,  
Prepared to give the Ensuing i lay its Doom:  
But like the Gordian-●● not this Play was made,  
By one who Brought it us in Masquerade;  
Plays were at first designed to Lash the age,  
By showing all its Vices on the Stage,  
As in a Glass there each might see his own,  
And being Conscious blushed at what he'd done;  
The Fool, the Knave, the Villain they exposed  
And the Bloodthirsty Politician noosed;  
But Virtue, tho' she suffered long at last,  
Was Crowned with a reward for what was passed;  
The honest-thinking Heathen showed the way,  
And handed Down the Moral called a Play:  
Old Ben. and Shakespeare copied what they writ,  
Then Downright satire was accounted wit;  
The Fox, and Alchemist exposed the Times,  
The Persons than was loaded with their Crimes;  
But for the space of Twenty years and more,  
You've hissed this way of Writing out of door,  
And kick and winch when we but touch the sore.  
But as some Fashions long since useless grown,  
Are now Revived and all the Mode o'th' Town.  
Why mayn't the Ancient way of Writing please,  
And in its turn meet with the same Success?  
The Story's true if you'll believe Record,  
Edward the Third has stamped it on his word:  
Here Englishmen with pleasure may behold,  
How much their Liberties were priz d of old.  
How hard this Prince for's Countries freedom strove,  
And how both Prospered in each others Love.   

EPILOGUE.  
Spoken by Mrs. Bracegirdle.  
IT is the Custom of all City-Feasts,  
By Printed Tickets to Invite the Guests;  
The Price is known, and who the Stewards are;  
And nothing's Private but the Bill of Fare,  
Which we expose the fall of Mortimer.  
For Plays are Feasts, and every Scene should be,  
A Different Course, still fresh variety:  
But few obtain that Masterpiece of Wit,  
He's a rare Cook that can all Palates hit;  
For Ways of Eating alter with the Age,  
And such a Peuking stomach haunts the Stage;  
Although the best of Artists strive to please,  
'Tis very seldom that they meet succe'ss,  
You set aside the most substantial Food,  
Beef's Gross, and breeds the Scurvy in the Blood,  
Nought but Ragoos and Kickshaws now are good;  
Broken Remains tossed by the Mounseirs hand  
Are grown the Darling Viand of the Land,  
Therefore our friend lest you should think it strange  
To jump from an Extreme into a change,  
With satire raises up his M●sses high,  
And Interlards his Tale with Comedy:  
But should he fail, we doubt not but to find,  
You to the Waiters always will be Kind;  
And since The Author who did this Prepare  
Only expects your Liking for his share,  
Do not Withdraw the Profit from the Player.   

Dramatis Personae.  
KIng Edward the Third. 
Mr. powel.  Mortimer Earl of March. 
Mr. Williams.  Lord Montacute. 
Mr. Mountfort.  Sir Tho. Delamore. 
Mr. Kynaston.  Sir Robert Holland 
Mr. Hodgson.  Tarleton Bishop of Hereford and Chanecllour of England. 
Mr. Lee.  Sergeant Either-side 
Mr. noke's.  Turrington 
Mr. Bridges.  Nevil. 
Mr. Freeman.  Sly. 
Mr. Bright.  Secret. 
Mr. Trafuse.  Earl of Leicester. 
Mr. Bowman.  Earl of Exeter. 
Mr. Sandford.   

WOMEN.  Isabel Queen-Mother. 
Mrs. Barry.  Maria, Niece to Sergeant 
Mrs. Bracegirdle.  Either-side, in Love with 
Mrs. Bracegirdle.  Montacute. 
Mrs. Bracegirdle.   
Lords, Attendants, Guards, Lawyers.  
SCENE Nottingham.   

ACT I. SCENE I. Nottingham. The Court of King Edward.  Enter Lord Montacute, Sir Tho. Delamore, and Sir Robert Holland. Lord Mount. 
IT much disturbs me Delamore, that thou  
Of all Mankind shouldst think my temper frail;  
What hast thou ever seen in Montacute,  
Or read i'th' Annals of his Ancestors,  
To fear him or suspect his Resolution?  
Proclaim me Bastard if my blood proves base,  
I tell thee good old Friend;  
I'll banish sleep and Pleasure till I've found  
A means to set my bleeding Country free;  
And in the fury of this Noble heat,  
Plunge through a Sea of blood for her deliverance.  Sr. T. Dela. 
I Question not your Spirit, But—  L Montalto 
What?  Sr. T. Dela. 
Pray give me leave:  
Nay, I must chide you, for you give the Reins  
To such a Passion may undo us all;  
Are there not sharp observers placed about us,  
Who if'twere possible would search our Souls?  
This eager Fire will quite forestall our purpose.  L. Mount. 
Well! I am hushed.  
But pray propose some means may please my thoughts,  
Since you'll confine my tongue.  Sr. T. Dela. 
Nay, I'm for urging of our wrongs, but calmly,  
There is a time  
When Heaven will do us Right for all our Woes,  
And if the Orphan's cries or Widows tears,  
The Blood of Innocents which stains the Land,  
Can hasten Vengeance, sure 'tis drawing nigh.  L. Mount. 
'Tis full three years since Mortimer began  
To Lord it o'er us by the Queen's vile favour;  
He stalks as on a Mountain by himself,  
Whilst we creep humbly in the Vale below,  
And Eye, and Curse, what we're afraid to reach at  Sr. Rob. Holl. 
In this short space, he and his Brother-Devil  
Have made, undone, new framed, shuffled and tossed  
The Ancient Customs of our Native Soil  
So very often, that the Kingdom staggers  
Under the heavy Burden of her change.  L. Mount. 
What are our Princes? what the Nobles now?  
Are they not Vassals to this upstart's State?  
No more the same of our Nobility  
Be called in mind; who when Usurping Powers  
Did but attempt to Innovate, our Laws  
With their keen Swords like Guardian Angels stood  
And kept the Harpy's from the Sacred Fruit.  Sr. Rob. Holl. 
Is it not fatal to resist his Will?  
Nay none must smile if Mortimer be sullen;  
Curse on his Pride: why should we brook it longer?  
Why don't we boldly tell the King our thoughts,  
And make him Great in spite of evil Counsel?  Sr. Tho. Dela. 
There will be Mortimer in every State;  
Some Favourite Villain to oppress the Subject,  
Who fell to Knaves what honest Men should have,  
Which lose their Right only for being poor;  
The largest bribe is still his dearest Friend,  
And values not the Credit of his Prince,  
Therefore 'tis just  
The King should know how much he is Eclipsed,  
Who 'tis that grasps the Sceptre in his stead,  
And how his Mother lavishly doth waste  
The best of his Revenue on this March.  L. Mount. 
It rests not there, she Prostitutes herself,  
Pardon me, for I will not give't no better name;  
Is she not grown the Common tale of all?  
One Palace holds 'em both, one Table feeds 'em,  
Nay, I will speak it, Sir, one Bed contains 'em:  
The Brawny Minion's dieted on purpose  
To do the Drudgery of Royal Lewdness.  Sr. Rob. Holl. 
How are we managed by a pair of Knaves:  
March rides the Privilege of all the Peers;  
For who in Parliament speaks not his thoughts  
Must never have a good look from the Court:  
Whilst Hereford the Reverend Chancellor,  
Persuades the Queen she may dispense with Laws,  
And renders 'em according to her purpose.  Sr. Tho. Del. 
If as sometimes he meets a knotty point  
Which will not stretch to what his need requires,  
He Summons the most Learned of the Robe,  
Begging their kind Interpretation of it,  
Telling how necessary, nay how Loyal 'tis  
When the Prerogative o'th' Crown is pinched  
Within the Clutches of the Griping Law  
To ease the Royal Power, and give it freedom  
If they Comply not, than his Greatness Culls  
From out the Scum o'th' Inns of Chancery,  
A Set of Poor necessitated Rogues,  
Who've Run through all the Judgements of each Court:  
And these he makes his Learned Expositors,  
These as they steadily perform their task,  
He puts into their Places who refused him:  
Some have the fortune to ascend the Bench,  
But then they're such Profficients in their Art  
They'd bafflle truth tho' never so well backed,  
And dare the Devil in his own Profession.  Sr. Rob. Ho. 
Justice and Honesty have left the Robe,  
For since the Prelate Hereford is chosen,  
(Under pretence that Piety best suits  
To adorn the Person of a Chancellor)  
Because on Conscience Equity depends:  
The Ancient Practisers refuse to Plead  
Balked with his overruling Clamorous tongue;  
They tell you with a heavy heart and look,  
That after many years of constant Practice  
They must to School again and learn the Law.  L. Mount. 
Come, come, it never was a prosperous World,  
Since Priests were Judges made of Temporal matters:  
Why should we wonder People grow Profane,  
When Mitred-Heads lead 'em the way to Hell;  
The Customs of their Ancestors they slight,  
Have changed their Shirts of hair for Robes of Gold:  
Thus Luxury and Interest Rules the Church,  
Whilst Piety and Conscience dwells in Caves.  
Let's stem the Current of this furious tide,  
Our Country is the Parent of us all;  
And shall we talk away the precious hours  
Whilst these vile hangmen stretch her on the Rack?  
Let's force young Edward's safety by our Swords,  
And cut off all the holds which bar his Glory.  Sr. Tho. Del. 
Blessings upon thee for this generous heat,  
From hence my fears and Jealousies, be gone;  
Thou art the Soul of Honour new revived,  
Which for some years, as once the Romans did,  
Withdrew thyself into a willing Exile  
Action, there will be fuel for thy Fire,  
Great as thy Spirit Courts and worthy of thee,  
The matters ready and the Engines fixed,  
Many prepared and eager for the work,  
But Place and time forbid the telling more:  
The Darling Comes.  Enter Guards, Gentlemen, Turrington, and Nevil; followed by the Earl of March. Waiters. 
Make way there—  Guards. 
Room for his Lordship:  L. Mount. 
See how the Toad swells with his own applause:  Sr. Tho. Del. 
My Lord you do forget.  L. Mount. 
I'm silent:  Mortim. 
Turrington:  Turring. 
Your pleasure: Petitioners kneeling with Papers.  Mort. 
What are those Men which bend their knees to us?  
They seem as Supplyants'.  Turring. 
So they are indeed from several Towns,  
Cities and Burroughs they are come,  
Humbly Imploring you would Intercede  
For their lost Charters to the Incensed Queen.  Mortim. 
That is the Chancellors business.  Turr. 
They know your Interest greater and entreat it;  
The Judges have annulled 'em; and unless  
Your Goodness can prevail, many a Town  
By their own faults Incurred will fall to ruin,  
And be a Wilderness; Thousand of Families  
Now in the way of Life must starve and Perish.  Mortim. 
Their Ancient Charters by the Law are forfeited,  
But I will Study how to get 'em new ones:  
Our time is spent in telling things aright,  
This Kingdom wants it, and I am its Friend.  L. Mount. 
Was ever Pride or Arrogance like this?  Mortim. 
Nevil, what would those People have?  Nevil. 
May it please your Honour,  
They are Inhabitants of the adjacent Corporations  
They all of'em have voices at Elections,  
And promise for the Parliaments to come,  
They will choose none but what the Court shall like.  Mortim. 
'Tis well, and we take notice of their Wisdom,  
See that you give 'em welcome as becomes us;  
Such Subjects must not want Encouragement,  
And March be Living.  L. Mount. 
Unheard of Impudence.  Dela. 
My Lord, we are observed, see how he eyes us;  
Nor are we safe whilst we stand trifling here.  L. Mount 
Why let him eye us till his balls grow stiff.  
His looks may fright those have dependence on him,  
I slight the worst and best of 'em:  Mortim. 
Ha! what said he?  Turr. 
Sir;  Mort. 
Lead on. As he moves is met by Montácute who fronts him, they stare at each other, and jostle.  
Ha, Jostled!  Mount. 
I find the man is greater than the Room;  
Sure else he might have strutted clear of me.  Mort. 
Thou art a froward Peer;  Mount. 
Thou art a vain one; Nay, frown not March  
Thy terrour's lost on me:  
Look big upon those bastard Englishmen  
Who tamely yield their Rights and Charters up,  
And swear to pick a Parliament  
Shall sell our Freedoms, Persons and Estates,  
To gain a short-lived smile—  
They probably may dread thee.  Mort. 
Rash youth, no more, lest thou provoke my anger,  
Till I forget the Palace that Protects thee;  
But th' Eagle seldom condescends, I think,  
To Combat with the Passion of a Wren.  L. Mount. 
I tell thee Boaster, that my veins do hold  
A Nobler, Richer, Purer blood than thine.  Mortim. 
Thy word's are air which no Impression make,  
So boys hurl stones in Water and so lost:  L. Mount. 
So Men shun Provocations under Proverbs:  Mort. 
Shun thee, poor Wretch, I pity thee:  L. Mount. 
I scorn thy pity, and contemn thy hate.  Dela. 
Nay Montacute.  L. Mount. 
Rot his proud Spirit— oh that I had thee forth  
On some wide Plain to Hunt thy haughty Soul,  
Distant from all Protection but thy Swords,  
There thou shouldst find—  Mort. 
A Prattler;  
Thy Mother's folly dwells upon thy tongue,  
Thou cam'st from School too early,  
Fie Boy, fie:  L. Mount. 
Statesman, Statesman, thou Engineer of hell:  Mort. 
Rail on, and spend thy Gall, malicious thing,  
Whose Nurses Milk still hangs upon thy Lips,  
You should be scourged to manners.  L. Mount. 
The King shall know thee,  Mort. 
Then he'll know himself:  L. Mount. 
Arrogance, I shall meet thee;  Mort. 
Beware the Thunder Child, 'tis dangerous.  Mount. 
If thou art so, like Lightning, I'll forerun thee,  
And if thyself thou dar'st a Thunder Prove,  
Follow me Mortimer and I'll think thee jove.  Exeunt Mount. Dela. and Holland. Turring. 
Had you not Patience as you have the Power  
Of an offended Deity, this language sure had been his last;  
I watched, my Lord, your eyes,  
And ready for the Signal of dispatch,  
Had laid his Reaking heart beneath your feet.  Nevil. 
You are too merciful, too full of goodness,  
Such high Indignities call for Resentments  
No less than Death; Pardon my plainness Sir,  
For here I Prophecy, unless you break  
This Serpent's Egg before the Monster's hatched,  
'T will bring Destruction on yourself and friends  Mort. 
I thank ye, and am happy in your service;  
The Babbler I despise, he shall be punished,  
The Envy that his Cankered breast is big with,  
By Preying on its self shall work his Ruin:  
So Dogs behold the Lustre of the Moon,  
And so run yelping backward into madness.  Nevil. 
The Queen:  Mort. 
Retire, meet me anon, and we'll consult what's best.  Enter Queen Isabella. All retire but Mortimer. 
My Lovely Queen, my charming Isabel,  
The Empress of my Soul, and balm of Life,  
Ten thousand Cupids play within those Circles,  
And dart the Rays of Love so quick and fast,  
That all my Spirits leap to meet thy Glories.  Queen. 
I find my Soul so near resemble thine,  
That when you speak it hasts to catch thy words;  
So when some Curious Artist strikes the Lute,  
The Harmony excites the Astonished Sense,  
And to the Face conveys the sudden Transport  
When thou dost offer up this Sacrifice;  
Like Cynthia to her Loved Endymion,  
I must descend and thus Caress my Charmer.  Mort. 
To you alone I own my Second being,  
And can I pay my life to other use  
Then the adoring of my saving Goddess?  
Well I remember when Carnarvex, Edward,  
By Spencer's Art lodged me within the Tower,  
Where every minute boded still my last,  
'Midst of despair; 'twas thou my better Genius;  
Contrived the means to save thy Vassal's Life:  
A sleepy mixture artfully conveyed  
Into the Wine, the greedy Warders Drank.  
While by a Friend that thou hadst made with Gold  
I passed the Guards and fled the hated Place.  Queen. 
Could I do less than that for him I loved,  
He who in Steel had fought my Battles o'er  
'Gainst the false Spencers, and worse Gavestone;  
He who all danger in my House defied,  
Was my best Friend against a Host of Foes:  
Oh Mortimer how happy had I been  
If'stead of Edward thou hadst been my Lord,  
Then Innocent and Pure as Vestal flames  
I had come unspotted to thy wishing Arms,  
And left no stain upon my Memory.  Mort. 
Beauty like yours was ever absolute,  
Crowns should not Awe, nor should the Throne Command,  
But he that's bravest best deserves the blessing;  
Was Edward fit to reap such joys as these?  
Ungrateful Edward who received a Prize,  
Heaven could not match in all its wondrous store,  
And for return instead of Prayers and Incense  
Slighted the Giver and the glorious Present:  
A Minion Spencer must supply the Place,  
A Ganemede, a Hylas, senseless Prince,  
The God's reprisal gave for the Contempt,  
And for reward of all my Cares and Toils  
Decreed this slighted Beauty should be mine.  Queen. 
You Men are skilful in the Trade of Love,  
You found our Souls and Catch our Weaknesses,  
Apting your words still to the Theme we're fond of,  
And we believe 'em to our own undoing.  Mort. 
Whilst thus I press, I feel a kindly heat  
Glow in my heart, urging to eager Bliss:  
Sweets let me sip from these Immortal Springs;  
Youth we'll renew, and humane nature change,  
Making the Extacy a Paradise.  Queen. 
Mayst thou for ever feel this Pleasing Fire,  
May fears ne'er cool it, time or Age decay it,  
Desire for ever wait upon our Joys,  
And may the last be ever thought the best.  Mort. 
What Brainsick Priests do in their Raptures tell  
Of the Elysium endless happiness  
Falls short of what each minute I enjoy;  
But oh my Care, our Paths of Love are strewed  
With Briers which Thwart and Cross us in our Pleasures:  
Young Montacute with Delamore and Holland,  
Those subtle Bellous which keep in his fire,  
And raise and calm it as their Work requires  
Must be removed, Their Interest is great,  
Their Prudence strict, Mountacutes Courage firm,  
Their Fortune's able to maintain their measures,  
Which strikes for thy Son's Greatness and our Ruin.  Queen. 
The Boy is Pliable to all my wishes,  
'Tis a half Soul bred in the Lag of Love,  
And Spiritless as the Desire which got him;  
We'll think of them at Leisure.  Mort. 
No more than now.  
Let us Retire to our Delights, unutterable Joys,  
Oh! why should Death for ever part such Lover's  
Fate; when your pleasure comes that we must fall,  
Let us together mount the Etherial Region:  
But oh I fear my Soul's too poor for thine,  
Qeens have peculiar stations sure above;  
I tossed and shattered must remain below,  
Ever Imploring for my heaven in view.  Queen. 
No, if the Powers despise my Mortimer,  
Their Care of me alone's not worth my Thanks.  
Single a Paradise I could not bear,  
Heaven would be Hell were Mortimer not there.  Exeunt. 
The End of the First Act.   

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  The Scene Opens and Discovers King Edward on a Couch, after some struggling Rises. King. 
WHere have I been, or what is't I have seen?  
'Tis said the Soul while the Tired body sleeps,  
Her Mansion often leaves and Roves abroad,  
Sometimes to Groves and Solitary Cells,  
Sometimes to Courts, to Cities, and to Camps;  
Mingling with Crowds, then strangely left alone:  
But mine has fallen down dreadful Precipices,  
Walked in the Charnell-Houses of the dead:  
My Father's Ghost stalked thus before my eyes,  
Cried out Revenge, than shrieked and disappeared,  
With so much haste, as if it seemed to dread  
The hand of Murder did pursue it still;  
Yet, as it fled it forced the yielding Air,  
To Echo back, beware of Mortimer,  Enter a Messenger. Mes. 
Lord Montacute, Sir Robert Holland, with Sir Thomas Delamore,  
Wait for admittance to your Majesty.  King. 
They're welcome, bring 'em in; Exit Messenger.  
Then headless Kent my once beloved Uncle,  
Led on a Train of miserable Shades,  
Who seemed bewailing their untimely deaths.  
With uplift hands they begged as for relief,  
And in sad postures told their several Fates:  
Then Mortimer Led in my wicked Mother,  
Who Snatched the Crown from me and gave it him,  
At which the numerous Crowds of Ghosts looked paler,  
Their mangled Limbs broke out afresh with blood,  
And the Surprising horror shook off sleep;  
What is it, oh ye Powers, that ye decree?  
Am I designed to fall a Sacrifice  
To the Ambitious Lust of this fell Monster?  
If Dreams Presage, Or Visions can forebode  
The Fate of Edward, Edward must succeed,  
If so you've fixed it, yet I'll face this storm,  
Stand like a King 'gainst my Rellious Doom;  
And Perish worthy of my Dignity.  Enter Lord Montacute. Sr. Thomas Delamore, and Sr. Robert Holland All. 
Health to your Majesty:  King. 
The like to all of You, ye are good men;  
My Worthy Uncle Edmond when alive  
Bade me select and value ye as Jewels,  
When Dying, as a Legacy Bequeathed  
Your Faiths and Service;  
I am too Young to know the Arts of Men,  
But by my hopes I think ye mighty honest.  L. Moun. 
Our happiness Lies only in that thought:  King. 
Tell me my Friends, and with that honest Plainness  
As suits the Character I have of you:  
Why is it that with folded Arms of Late,  
And heavy Eyes which speak distempered minds,  
Ye measure out your steps?  
Seeming like Statues more than Councillors,  
As mourners wait upon the Dead remains  
Of some loved friend to his eternal home.  S. Tho. Del. 
Most Royal Prince, my honoured Liege and Master.  King. 
Honoured, my Liege, my Prince and Royal Master.  
How Like this sounds to Mortimer;  
I find he's grown the Precedent o'th' Court,  
The Star by which each Courtier guides his hopes.  S. Rob, Holl: 
Rather a Meteor or some Exhalation  
Raised by the Sulphurous vapours of the Earth,  
Which borrowing of a Blaze from Real Lights  
Attracts the eyes of Fools to Gaze on it.  King. 
No more on your Allegiance, to the Point:  L. Moun. 
You have touched us home Sir now, and we obey  
The Secrets of our hearts shall be unlocked,  
Where you may read yours and the Nations doom;  
It is the Man you've named which rides our Spirits  
Oh my Loved Lord!  
Why is this Viper harboured in your Bosom,  
Which 〈◊〉 insensibly upon your honour?  
Why p●●pher'd with the Worship of men's Knees?  
You are our King, Rouse sleeping Majesty,  
Awake and view the Souls which wait your rising,  
To pay their Long kept Homage where 'tis due.  S. Tho. Del. 
Where now is Right? to whom shall we Appeal?  
The Queen has placed her Power on Mortimer:  
Whilst the Laws edge is Ground but on one side,  
Nor that employed unless to Lop your Friends:  
The man who dare reflect on his Proceedings,  
Or pity but the Circumstances of Edward,  
Is straight beset and sworn into some Plot:  
His Life or Fortune's seized, it may be both  
Juries and Witnesses are kept in pay,  
Which have agreed his Ruin e'er he's heard.  S. Rob Holl. 
Thus your good Subjects daily are Oppressed,  
Which Perish by Consent of Perjury.  S. Tho Del. 
Thus whilst these vile Possessors wrack the Land,  
Your Worth decays and Glory runs to Ruin:  
It can't last long they think, so make the most on't,  
Assume your Right, or we must all submit,  
Our Country Like Estates held in dispute,  
Fertile in Woods and Parks the Pride of Wealth.  
If he that's in possession thinks it short,  
He Cuts down all the Pomp of's Ancestors,  
Which many years their Diligence Improved  
So Worthy men the prop of future hopes,  
By this Usurper Mortimer are Lopped,  
Their Fortunes torn by 'th' Roots form long Succession;  
And scattered to maintain Voluptuousness.  King. 
Is't Possible! I always thought him ill,  
But you Decipher him a very Devil:  
Filling my thoughts with horror of his Crime.  Sir Tho. Del. 
Each Magistrate which should administer  
Justice Impartial, why all are made by him  
Which Ruin others to preserve themselves;  
The Clergy and the Law are both his Creatures,  
The Bishop Chancellor takes Care of that;  
Places of Trust and Profit are all Sold:  
'Tis Practised from the Mitreed holy head  
Toth' Needy Starving Verger of the Church:  
You can't serve Heaven on Cushions but you pay for 't,  
Or Blister your Numbed Knees upon the Marble;  
Then from the Scarlet and the Purple Gown,  
Down to the very Crier of the Court.  Lo. Mount. 
Well may the Nation Groan while such as these  
Sit at the helm, and what expect but shipwreck.  King. 
Now by my Honour I'll no Longer bear  
The Ignominious hand of a Control;  
I find myself enlarged, Each Artery  
Beats double time, as if my Spirits strove  
To be in Action; My Father's Soul  
Shoots in my blood, and Prompts to Resolution:  
Thus I Cast from me  
The Name of Duty and the tie of Son,  
Since thou art dead to shame, be so to me.  Sr. Tho. Del. 
Ay, now my Lord you speak yourself a King:  
Do but appear with that Authority,  
The Praise of Edward Every tongue will sing,  
While Ravished heaven does echo back the sound;  
You can't want hands for such a Noble Work,  
A Cause like yours would summon the Just Gods  
With all their Thunder to the Royal Aid:  
Oh let me Kiss your Sacred feet dear Prince;  
These Words have added years to my sick Life. Kneels  King. 
He Weeps, indeed the honest man  
Does weep; Rise Delamore for I will be myself,  
And this Usurper March shall down to Hell,  
All spare the Tree whose Branches serve as shade,  
Till the spread mischiefs kill the under-Plants,  
Then every Man assists to fell it down,  
So this Colossus of the English Isle,  
Under whose Legs the Tallest Ships must Pass,  
ere they gain harbour shall to Seas be hurled,  
And in their Bottom find a Monument:  
My Dream comes on apace, and I foretell  
This meeting Ominous to March for it Portends;  
The Wardship of the Queen, and he expires,  
He seeks my Life, and Crown: ha! is't not so?  Sir Tho, Del. 
Right Sir, that must be surely the design  
By his removing you to his Residence:  
Why was not Salisbury as good a place,  
Oh! there you Lived surrounded by the Peers  
And Loyal Commons, 'twas a place too safe:  Lo. Mount: 
Possibly he did it Sir to show the State  
Your Royal Mother keeps— But then  
Why was not his fair Castle made your Palace?  
No, your eyes would Pierce too deep in his design,  
For there he Lives in Grandeur,  
In Masks and Revels every night he reigns  
While all's Barred up as if he feared a spy.  Sir Rob Holl. 
You now are open to each Traitor's shaft,  
And in the very midst I dare avouch it,  
Of those who long to taste your Royal Life.  King. 
Thanks my Good Angel, thou hast turned my fears,  
The Chillness of my Blond now Ebbs apace,  
My shivering Nerves shake their Convulsion off,  
And ye have Roused the youthful Lion up;  
Oh that I had the hearts of these Bloud-hunters,  
This Pious Chancellor and Treacherous March;  
Like young Alcides would I Gripe the Snakes;  
My worthy friends be still about my Person,  
Send Instantly to Berkly, Salisbury, Exit Holland.  Leicester and Mordant: 
You withdraw with me;  
Business I have requires your best advice,  
For like the Mariner I see from far  
A Storm is gathering in the distant Sky;  
But with these Vessels I can fear no Sea,  
The utmost Rigour of the Clouds I'll stand  
Safe as the Souls which pity us from Land. Exeunt.   

SCENE II. The Chancellors Apartment.  Enter Sly, and Secret Assurance with Papers in their hands; Then the Mace and Purse, The Chancellor. On each side of him judges who Compliment him, and then take their leave: Then the Chanceliour sits in a Chairs of State while the Lawyers present him with New-Years Gifts. I. Law. 
I beg your Lordship would accept of this poor offering,  
I have had but a bad Term; as the times mend  
My Acknowledgements shall grow greater. Exit Law.  Chan. 
Three broad Pieces counts the money  
This fellow will come to nothing, I remember him an Attorney, you know him Secret.  Sec. 
Yes, and Please you, he was once of the house of which I'm Precedent, he always shunned coming into Commons, and used to Dine at a threepenny Cellar, always went to bed by daylight, Stole Paper and Pens, and begged Ink, he had but one Band which he washed himself at the Pump, and then dried it by the Hall-fire.  2d Law. 
If your Lordship be at Leisure— gives him money  Chan. 
Councillor Dunderpate, I am glad to see you, I hope your family is well:  2d. Law. 
At your Lordship's Service:  Chan. 
You're a sensible man, 10 Pieces— well I never forget my friends.  2d. Law. 
There is a Cause will come before your Lordship between Pluckat and Holdfast— now I am for the the Defendant— Holdfast and the Case is thus—  Chan. 
Why you rascal, are you going to Corrupt me with prepossession of the Cause ere I've heard—  2d. Law. 
With your Lordship's permission—  Chan. 
Sirrah, I will have nothing to do with it till it Lies before me; Why you Jackanapes because I indulge your Presents d'yon think I take 'em as Bribes— ha!  2d. Law. 
I beg your Lordship's pardon, thus I confess my Error.  giveth more money. Chan. 
This makes some atonement, but d'hear, if ever I catch you at the like, as opening the merits of the Cause in Private again— I'll make you such an Example, that that— Sly take Councillor Dunderpate into the Buttery, and give him a bottle of Sack.  2. Law. 
Your Lordship's Devoted Slave. Ex. Sly and Dun.  Several Law. 
If it please your gracious Lordship.  Chan. 
Why, lay down what you have, I cannot look over it now.  They lay down their Presents, he smiles on some, nods upon others, more or less; as he likes their Gifts, they go off. Enter Serjeant Either-side. Chan. 
Sergeant Either-side, how do you? I hope your Brother-in-Law Sergeant Huddle-Cause is well: I am glad to see you, you are my old Friend and Acquaintance, (let me see) above 20 years standing: ha is't not so?  Serj. 
Your Lordship hits the mark of time Exactly, and I Protest the Honour you have done me requires Acknowledgement beyond the Talon I am endowed withal; Let me therefore, avoiding Prolixity, Profoundly Celebrate your Lordship's Praises, and acquaint the World, the favours you have placed on me your Creature, Exhalts me to the Pinnacle of Ambition, and as an Incumbent duty obliges me to Consecrate myself and Posterity to your Lordship's Pleasure: Give me admittance therefore most humbly to pay this Tribute of Duty, and with it the Orisons of many happy years.  Chan. 
The Man speaks well (weighs the purse) there's weight in his words; a great sign of an able Pleader— how does your Niece?  Serj. 
My Lord.  Chan. 
How does your Niece, I say, what art thou deaf?  Serj. 
She's well my gracious Lord, and happy that your Eminence takes notice of her.  Chan. 
I never saw her, but am told she's a notable baggage, a tight Lass and a pretty one:  Secret. 
Fetch her whilst his blood's warm, I see it glow through his Praises. Exit Serjeant Either-side.  Enter more who give money. Chan. 
Lay it down I say, why I won't forget ye.  They all bow mighty low and retire. 
If this trade were to last the year round, I should have a fine time on't, Gold in abundance, without which (as Anthony said) the world's not worth my Care: 'tis great Pity the first of january comes but once in a twelvemonth. Every one of these Crouching Fawning Snivelling Sons of Perdition expect I should do wonders for 'em, but I know none of 'em; as I Lock up their Presents I bury their memories:— nor can I recolled 'em under under fresh ones— Secret. I am but a man, yet am glad to do good in my Function when the Persons are truly sensible.  Secret. 
'Tis a great goodness in you then.  Chan. 
Why there's that old spawn of the Serpent; Either-side, a fellow of rare parts, eminent Practice; I have known him undo twenty People, and they never the wiser— a very wicked fellow— but then on the other hand his Repentance is always so hearty, so Substantial and feeling, that my nature is overcome with his Penitence, and I can no more chide him then I can refuse his Oblation.  Secret. 
Such men are wanting to fill the Bench withal, and I hope he may stand fair in your Lordship's opinion in the next remove, he'd perform his part rarely, he's no Charitable Conscientious Timorous Fellow, but a Thorough-paced Lawyer, and mighty hearty in the Cause—  Chan. 
Say ' it thou so man, and by my Troth it was well thought on; if these Peuking velvet-hearted Wary Knaves that pretend to Scruples and seem averse to comply with the Queen's desires hang an Arse any longer, they shall make room for more deserving Persons— I do admire they can have so little Grace as to receive a Plentiful Salary and make no return for it.  Secret. 
I'll pawn my Soul for him— his temper may be moulded to what use occasion shall require; besides his wants will prompt him to comply, his Gains are not sufficient to maintain his family as his Wife would have it, for she loves to go fine as most of 'em do; and for a new gown would make him give away the Justest Cause in the world; his Estate too is mortgaged past recovery, to maintain her pride.  Chan. 
But his Niece Secret his Niece.  Secret. 
Oh she's the Prettiest Creature, my eyes e'er looked on, such a Composition of flesh and blood, so Witty, so Modest, so Alluring—  Chan. 
And such a Servant I want, for I am grown of late so melancholy, I am not what I was— we are all flesh and blood Secret, if she's of a coming-nature she's made for ever, I grow aged, this turmoiling in the Government, what with my affairs o'th' State, and bustling on the Bench, bandying about Equity and one thing or other, wearies me out strangely— I want like the Heathen Monarchs, my Saraglio, to refresh me after the business of the day, but I must keep that to myself— and is she tractable?  Secret. 
Easy as Innocence itself; he's gone to fetch her.  Chan. 
Sayst thou?  Secret. 
He's gone to fetch her:  Chan. 
Hither.  Secret. 
Hither to your Lordship  Chan. 
He shall be a Judge, let him bring her instantly; I am much refreshed with the thoughts that I can serve the Nation and myself so Luckily— go and bid the Sergeant prepare for his advancement.  Sly. 
I shall my Lord Exit Sly  Secret. 
Will it please your Lordship to peruse these Papers?  Chan. 
No Sir, I design to peruse something else I thank you, I will not have my Imagination disturbed, nor my fancy palled; tell me of Papers when I'm to give my Judgement upon flesh and blood: what do you take me for nothing but hurry-durry all my life long: thou thinkst my brains are taken up like thine who's to be fined next: no, thou half-skin of Parchment, I hate the Sin of being Covetous, tho' I love Gold Extremely, not altogether in regard as it is money, but because Physicians have told me 'tis a great Restorative, you Varlet.  Secret. 
I beg your Lordship's pardon.  Chan. 
Pardon, why you Jack-Call to the Law, didst think I was angry, angry on a New-year's day, angry when Riches and Love is towards me, no, no— but hark you Sirrah:  Secret. 
What is your Pleasure?  Chan. 
That shall be nameless— Sirrah, was ever such a Question asked a man in my office? why, you Saucy Impertinent—  Enter Sly. 
Ha! is she coming rogue, say you? you little sucking Devil, by the Mass I'm strangely altered within this half hour— Look you, I am not angry Secret, as I said before— but, is she such a pretty sweet dapper Piece of beauty? I will make thee a great man shortly by the Mass.  Sly. 
My Lord, she's whatsoever you can fancy, nor can you stretch your thoughts into Imagination, but she Exceeds it in substance; her Uncle overjoyed at the Good Office brings her himself.  Chan. 
He shall be a Judge— shall— he is already.  Sly. 
See, they are here my Lord.  Enter Serjeant Either-side and his Niece Maria. Chan. 
Leave us. Exit Secret and Sly.  
A glorious Woman: how her eyes sparkle, and how the blood juts in and out upon her cheeks, as if it hoped some good were coming toward her— come, sweet one, kisses  
Her lips are made of Velvet, smooth, soft, and pliable, I'll lip her and eye her, and every thing her.— Sergeant, as I told you before, I have a great kindness for you, and hearing that you had a Niece of worthy Education, whose merits spoke her praise (oh you little baggage) I can do no less, having your Preferment in my eye, then while I was doing good for you in some measure, to advance your Neices fortune, my House wants such a sober discreet young Woman to manage it, and by the way I must call you my Lord.  Ser. 
Oh Sir!  Chan. 
Indeed I must— the Queen upon my Request doth confer the office of Judge on you, as you deserve; that for aught I know you may be in a little time Chief Justice— This I have done my friend to serve you: But to the matter, what say you Mr. Serjeant (my Lord, I beg your pardon) are you willing to put your Niece under my care and Protection? ha!  Ser. 
My Lord you so highly oblige me, I am struck silent with the manner of it— a Judge, Chief-Justice, I am confounded with the honour— My Lord, the Maid is whatever you please to make her.  Chan. 
Then I'll make a Woman of her speedily: What say you pretty Lady, are you free to take the trouble upon you? I am a weak man and have but few Relations— If I do well I'll make your fortunes: If I die, you shall have no Cause to repent.  Mari. 
Would thou wert dead already; must I then be the Sacrifice to my Uncle's Ambition? be steady Virtue, and assist me Heaven, tho' poor, I'll not be base— Oh Montacute.  Chan. 
What say your fair one?  Mari. 
In any honest way I should be proud to serve your Lordship, and obey my Uncle.  Chan. 
Pretty Innocence, I am but twenty— not so much I believe, I know not what I am.  Ser. 
He may in time make her his Heir, at least her fortunes made, and I am freed of a Burden— My worthy Lord, her mind and mine are all one, she is the Creature of your Pleasure, and will take any Impression your Lordship shall stamp on her (a Judge—) Wife be of Comfort, thy Chariot shall be turned into a Coach; Thy Pew at Church be stripped of Baise, and lined with Velvet, and thou shalt take place of my Lady Mayoress Niece; you were born under a happy Planet, fortune throws herself into your Lap, make use on't while 'tis offered, a Lord— oh lack a day, I can't contain my ecstasy.  Chan. 
Have you considered little one of the offer? you shall Command in Chief, and be esteemed as if my Sister:  
No harm shall come to you.  Mar. 
I hope not.  Chan. 
Fear it not.  Mar. 
I trust in your honour, your Robe's too worthy sure to harbour ill.  Ser. 
Niece, you must not talk so Impertinently: Incline your mind and body as his Chancellorship and holiness shall think fit.  Mar. 
Hold there, good Uncle.  Chan. 
I am mightily o'erjoyed it should fall out so pat that I can serve my old Friend: 'Tis an Angelical Jade, and I grow very warm: well Child, I will take care of you: My Lord, within two days your Patent shall be ready; I would discourse a little with your Niece in Private— I protest things fall out so lucky.  Ser. 
I'll leave her with your Lordship.  Chan. 
Pray call me Brother-Lord, we are both Judges now and Lords alike.  Ser. 
Then Brother-Lord— oh pretty— I'll leave her with your Brother Lordship.  Chan. 
Do, do.  Mar. 
How will you leave me alone with a man Uncle?  Serj. 
Peace baggage— Uncle— I'm a Judge.  Chan. 
Why are you afraid of an old man?  Serj. 
I'll make the Knaves that brought the extent against me smoke— a Judge— I'll feague the Rogues— Brother, I am your Lordship's most humble and eternally engaged servant and Judge.  Chan. 
Oh my Lord Judge your friend: goes to the door with the Sergeant and Locks it.  Mar. 
Ha! What now! I find here will be sport,  
But Montacute I will not wrong my love to thee,  
I have kept it Pure unsullied hitherto,  
And will, spite of this mighty man,  
And mightyer Villain Uncle.  Chan. 
My Dear Child I shall respect thy Uncle infinitely for thy sake, thou hast the Inticing'st Look with thee— I must peep in thy face and admire thy features— nay, be not bashful, I am thy friend, thy Governor, and thou art become my particular Care.  Mar. 
Nay, fie my Lord;  Chan. 
By the Mass I have a greater kindness for thee then I can express; why you little Cherubin, what a pair of pretty swelling pouting bubbies hast thou got, they play in and out as they were at bopeep. I must initiate 'em into my favour.  Mar. 
Nay, my Lord for Shame.  Chan. 
Sweeter than jessamin or Honey-Suckles, she has called my heart up to my Lips, but I'll make her draw it down to its place: come child.  he pulls her. Mar. 
Nay, pray my Lord, do no Violence;  Chan. 
Why you baggage, if to look babies in your eyes, to play with those Lily white snowballs, and to smother thee with kisses be to use violence, I cannot forbear it.  Mar. 
Does this become your Coat my Lord?  Chan. 
No matter for my Coat child, it agrees with my body, nay, I must Plunder.  Mar. 
Help, help, within there.  Chan. 
Hush huswife, here here's Gold for thee, thou shalt have more than thou canst carry.  Mar. 
I never can deserve this bounty, nor can I guests why 'tis you bribe your Servant thus, indeed you make me blush.  〈◊〉. 
〈…〉 me again, such another Glance and I am a dead 〈…〉 a bribe, a paw-word: Why I have given thee my heart all 〈…〉 and going to put my body into thy Possession.  Mar. 
For Heaven's sake are you Pious?  Chan. 
I am not Pious, nay, hang not back, for I will rifte thy sweets, and bury myself in thy bosom, I will, I will.  Mar. 
Help, Murder, Uncle, what shall I do?  Mortimer within. Mort. 
My Lord, Lord Chancellor, ha! are you at it?  Enter Sly. Sly. 
Sir, Sir, My Lord the Earl of March is coming.  Chan. 
Let him go to the Devil, could he find no other time but now, I never disturbed him at his Recreations.  Sly. 
What shall I say my Lord?  Chan. 
Say any thing, and be damned: Why, you Rascal, you a Lawyer, and to seek for a Lye.  Mort. within. 
When Priest, when come you?  Mar. 
This is lucky.  Chan. 
I must to him, the Devil fetch him, go, go, into that Room, I'll be with you presently; nay, go, all shall be well, and I'll be civil. puts her off and locks her in. You dog could you not deny me, had you no sooner done the Office of bringing us together, but you must break off the bargain before we had Signed and Sealed.  Sly. 
'Tis some earnest business in the Law he says.  Mort 
Why Chancellor?  Chan. 
Well, well, I'm coming,  
And when I have dispatched him I'll withdraw,  
And read another Lesson than the Law.  Exeunt. 
The End of the Second Act.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I. The Castle.  Enter Turrington and Nevil. Tur. 
AFFairs seem veering, and the Fane of Edward  
Which hitherto has pointed to our wishes,  
Is turned against us; out of what corner  
Comes this blast of change? 'Tis sudden,  
All are as hush as Murderers when escaping.  
Privacy the waiting-woman's Virtue is in use,  
And the young Prince has left his darling Sports  
For closer Studies.  Nevil. 
'Tis odd, and we must arm against it, just now  
I would have passed the Antichamber,  
And a Starched fellow grimly stopped my Passage;  
I asked the Knave by whose Authority  
He barred my Entrance, he replied morosly  
'Twas by my betters, and he would obey 'em;  
Then I demanded if the Rascal knew me.  Tur. 
What said he then?  Nevil. 
He answered better than I knew myself,  
Bid me return, there was no room for Scouts;  
The ill-bred Dog had stood corrected,  
Had not old Leicester, Berkley, Salisbury,  
With buisy faces come into the Room;  
To these he turned the Key, said they were stayed for.  Tur. 
These froward Peers Envy our Master's fortune,  
Some of 'em have been faulty 'gainst the Queen,  
For which they were forbid her Royal Presence,  
And with a sulliness withdrew from Court:  
What brings 'em hither now is worth enquiry,  
Unsent for I am sure they did not come:  
For March and they, like jarring Elements  
Have Constant Enmity and must keep distance:  
But see he comes, with him the Chancellor,  
He glows, the Prelate made him wait,  
And we shall hear how he resents his State. Exit.  Enter Mortimer and Chancellor. Mort. 
Must I attend your leisure, wait your hour,  
And herd among your slaves, thou clod of earth,  
Whom I have worked and moulded up to form,  
And breathed a Soul into?  Chan. 
Why, my Lord, my Lord,  Mort. 
Thou hast forgotten thy Original;  
When Pensive in a poor thatched homely Cell,  
Lonely and Destitute as want could make thee;  
No Wine nor Flesh to Nurse a loose desire;  
Thy lust was more to food then woman then,  
The Sun's hot season scarce could taint thy blood,  
Or if it did thou crep'st to thy Turf-bed,  
Which quickly damped the Carnal Exhalation.  Chan. 
What will become of me?  Mort. 
How wouldst thou bless the founder of a Loaf,  
So needy thou wouldst plunge the deep mired road,  
To hold the Stirrup of a Passenger,  
While with expecting eyes you watched his hand,  
And with a face of sorrow begged relief.  Chan. 
Do but hear me.  Mort. 
Pitying thy abject State I took thee hence,  
Clothed, fed and raised thy drooping Spirits up,  
Placed thee where thou grew'st fat with saying Prayers,  
But quickly found that Virtue was thy Burden,  
Thy Piety grew faint with Nourishment,  
Thy Carcase was the hoard of Luxury,  
Where each variety came tumbling in;  
The profits of the Church thou still wouldst glean,  
But never did a moment's duty for it,  
Picked up a Mendicant of thy old Trade,  
He was sufficient for the work of Heaven:  
Your Clergies grown so lazy with their wealth,  
'Tis Drudgery if they Preach 'bove once a Year;  
And if you're Chose in Lent you call it thrashing,  
Because you think there's nothing to be got;  
Like Sheriffs than you had rather fine then stand.  Chan. 
Your Lordship is pleased to be somewhat free with the Church, If it knew you so sharp an observer, the Members of it would Contribute towards your Removal.  Mort. 
I raised thee, I preferred thee,  
And as thou didst improve in serving me  
From all the vile necessities I've mentioned,  
Advanced thee to the highest place of trust,  
Exalted thee from the Meager dregs of man,  
To be a Saucy, Proud, Lascivious Prelate.  Chan. 
Nay my Lord, I must confess you have done me many signal favours, but I beseech you, however you Load my Person, have a regard to my Function, Lascivious— revile me at your Pleasure, but forbear Scandalising the Gown, you may talk of what you please, and my Gleaning the Profits of the Church, but what can be Gleaned out of him that fasts four days a week, and when he does eat, takes no more than what will Just keep Life and Soul together?  Mort. 
'Tis false:  
You pamper your varatious Appetites,  
Indulge Predominance to that degree,  
You exceed the very Sultan of the East;  
But with this Difference, he at vast expense  
Keeps his Seraglio: you have all in Common,  
Under the holy Covert of Confession:  
You shroud the Priest and Sanctify the Whore,  
Did I not holt upon your Rank Devotion:  
And caught you acting Tarquin on Lucretia.  Chan. 
I could give him a rub of Majesty if I durst. aside What A Censorious Age do we live in, that a man of my Clothing cannot press a Case of Conscience home to a Gentlewoman, but it must look like force? But suppose I was doing what your Lordship said: I say, suppose, why all flesh is frail— because we ought to be above temptation: d'you think it possible to be so? We that are given to fasting Eat Fish, and fish is of a Provoking Digestion, and make the worst of what you were saying, 'twas but venial.  
As the Casuists says,— I confess to Ravish is a heinous Crime in the Sex that puts us to't, But if it raises their affections the more, than it may be palliated; but as for simple Fornication, there's not a Novice in any University or College in Europe but is allowed it, provided it be used as the Cannon expresses— medicinally, and for health's sake.  Mort. 
Leave guilding Vices with the Cant of Virtue,  
The time calls on for business; for the offence  
You have committed merit the forgiveness.  
Read that, and as you love your safety see it done. gives a Paper.  The Chancellor mumbles as reading the Paper, Eyes Mortimer, at last speaks the supposed end. Chan. 
— By formal process.  
Let Montacute be speedily dispatched say you— is it thereabouts, I perceive who has nettled him, and I must smart for't-but I have a fetch— dispatched: ha dispatched!  Mort. 
Why do you hesitate, I say dispatched,  
Are you so squeamish you can't digest the term?  Chan. 
No my Lord, not I, but you ferret me out of the few senses I have— dispatched— murdered— 'tis not my profession— I will not turn Cutthroat for any man's pleasure, if the lodging him in a Jail for his Life will serve so, if not—  Mort. 
Away Trifler:  Chan. 
I am confounded; why, you have no sooner done Chiding me for a little humane frailty, but you hurry me on to a Crime with a Vengeance.  Mort. 
Do you make Scruples, let me but hear Another Syllable that contradicts what I've decreed, and thou art lost for ever— I will divest thee of thy Pageant-Greatness, expose thee as a Sacrifice toth' Rabble, and how they'll use thee thy Conscience best can tell.  Chan. 
The devil's in him, I must submit, I have run myself like thieves, so far into ill company, that now I would reform, my associates won't let me; my Lord I beseech you be not angry: I did this only to found the depth of your Lordship's intentions, and since you are resolved, he shall be dispatched— I have light on the rarest fellow, one that will go through-stich in the Law, he must be a Judge.  Mort. 
Who is it?  Chan. 
Why Sergeant Either-side.  Mort. 
That's a dull wretch;  Chan. 
ne'er the worse for a Judge, they sleep half their Lives out— but he has a vast assurance and tho'he cannot speak much to the purpose he has rare lungs, and will let no man he heard but himself.  Mort. 
Well, work him, and make him what you will:  Chan. 
I was born to serve your honour, I will retrieve your favour, tho' it be by turning executioner myself, and for this fellow he'll prove the miracle of the Bench as to your use, and will truss up your enemies with as little regret as a Farmer does the Moles which molest his Ground— it shall be done my Lord. Exit  Mort. 
This fellow came from Proteus, the Caemelion change not faster.  Enter Turrington and Nevil. 
How now, your business:  Turr. 
'Tis of Importance, stand upon your guard,  
For Berkly, Salisbury, and many others  
Who not long since were banished from the Court,  
Are now with Edward close Locked up with him.  Mor. 
Ha!  Nev. 
By heavens 'tis true, we saw 'em enter:  
We would have followed 'em, but were denied,  
Nay ordered to retire— and the out-Courts  
Are filled with rough-hewed slaves who guard the Lords.  Mort. 
Withdraw to my Apartment, I'll come presently;  
How's this, so Cunning Boy, Damnation: Ex. Tur. Nev  
Salisbury, Berkly and Exeter, I warrant too are there:  
Are ye upon the Catch my Politicians?  
That Exeter's the Devil for a Statesman, and  
Must be the Guide o'th' Council too or nothing:  
The subtle fiend has Left and sought more parties  
Than all the Cabinet Pack shuffled together:  
He was for us but faultered when he found  
My Interest Greater in the Queen than his;  
He had rather be the foreman of a Jury  
Then second in the Council of four hundred:  
Why Salisbury and he were ever foes,  
Constantly Jealous of each others greatness,  
And tho' they both have liked each others measures,  
Still Contradiction was their practised spite.  
But in this Cause 'tis probable they'll Join,  
And to secure it give their spleen Cessation:  
What's to be thought on?  Enter Queen. Queen. 
What always musing, ever melancholy,  
Beware of the infection, none so wretched  
As those whom Jealousy and Doubts possess:  Mort. 
But Madam, mine's a subject calls for thought,  
No vain Chimaera but a just occasion,  
Nevil and Turrington have brought advice,  
And I am sorry I must tell it you;  
Those saucy Peers who villifyed your Crown  
Not sparing Censure of your private Actions,  
Are giving vile instructions to your Son;  
Learning the Pliant Youth how he may shake  
The fetters of Obedience off betimes,  
While eagerly he listens to the Charm,  
And smiles to hear himself saluted King.  Queen. 
Is't possible?  Mort. 
Be you the Judge, for you it most concerns,  
Since Delamore has whistled to this Sterlin,  
All his Apartments have been closely kept,  
New waiters placed, those you put in discharged;  
Left they might do their duty and inform,  
Tell me (my Royal Mistress) can you bear  
The hand of Limitation, or Control,  
Can you with ease resign the Glorious Throne  
Into the hands of Salisbury and Leicester?  Queen. 
Distraction's in the Thought—  Mort. 
Can she Obey who always did Command?  
Can she Retire who ever lived in splendour?  
Nay thought the world too scanty for her Greatness,  
Accept a Private Pension, small attendance,  
And live by him whose Soul from hers took being,  
Whilst I must to their long-grown malice bow,  
Which their believing Life must be a plague,  
Will give it me on Scandalous Conditions;  
Nay blush not Madam, this must all be done,  
And more when these be Edward's Governors:  Queen. 
That ne'er shall be, and Isabel Living:  
Be thou as once when Spencer Gaveston  
The minions of my husband did attempt,  
To Curb my Will, and I defy 'em all,  
No March, If I for Love could give him death,  
Think'st thou this Feeble spawn his slender offspring  
(Bred when I wished a Barrenness upon me  
So Irksome and insipid was the Pleasure)  
That he shall balk the measures of my Soul.  Mort. 
She fires:  Queen 
Can the froward Chitt believe because my Son  
I'd still him with a play thing called my Crown,  
And live myself on Courtesy of state:  
The Fragments of the Grandeur I had left  
Perish ten Sons ere such a fit possess me.  Mort. 
There spoke a Queen; this is true Majesty,  
Appear and like the Planet of the day,  
Disperse these sullen Fogs which Cloud your Lustre,  
Since Delamore and Holland, Exeter, and the rest  
Have Soared like jearus beyond their bounds,  
Their waxen wings shall melt in thy Bright beams,  
Finding i'th' floods reward for their Ambition.  Queen. 
They fall my Mortimer, they sink for ever,  
I'll visit straight these close Conspirators,  
Who think themselves so hushed in their designs;  
As for this Rebell-Son he's a disease,  
And I will purge the venom from my blood,  
As if a Leprosy had compassed me;  
I will have no Competitors in Power,  
If in the Father's time I ruled alone,  
I'll never yield that honour to the Son:  
Hard shall he tug if he will have the sway,  
And if at last 'tis forced and Racked away,  
As I shall scorn the Conquest to outlive,  
This shall a Period to his Triumph give. Shows a Dagger  Exit Queen.  

SCENE The Chancellors House.  Enter Serj. Either-side and his Niece Maria, be pulling her in. Sorj. 
Come, come in, come in you baggage, you runaway Thief; 'Tis well I met you, I would not have had you gone home for 5000 l. god's my life I had been Unjudged before my Tailor had finished my Robes, I should not have had the Satisfaction of seeing how scarlet becomes me, and your Aunt would have turned you out of doors.  Mari. 
Why would you leave me then alone with him?  Ser. 
Chamber-practice like that of Confession admits of no ears, but the Parties concerned— therefore be ruled, I have not seen my wife since, but had you gone home as I said, and she had known the occasion, and my preferment had fallen upon't, she had turned you out to have got a Livelihood by the same means you shunned, which would not have turned to so good account.  Mar. 
But Sir, he would have forced me—  Ser. 
To have pleased yourself, come, come, no more words, away with your butts, your ifs, and your yets, and joyu Issue immediately, or you're nonsuited; mnst I be forced to use my Authority? do not provoke me, lest you sink under the weight of a Judge's Displeasure, we are dreadful fellows in Power, therefore have a care.  Mar. 
This new honour has certainly crazed my Uncle: In my conscience rather than be degraded he would stand himself by this Devil of a Chancellor till he performed the deed of Darkness; Pray Sir let me go home:  Ser. 
If you will go to the place from whence you came, you shall thence to the Place of Execution, where you shall be hanged till you're half-dead, and then be cut into four Quarters, and your bowels burnt for high swinging High-treason in rebelling against the Sovereign Authority of my unspotted Ermine.  Mar. 
This Crime will make it foul:  
Black as hell's Practice or the trade of perjury:  
What to do I know not; if I refuse I lose his favour, and that's my bread; if I comply, then farewell Reputation, let me be never so innocent the living with this Goat is sufficient Scandal to any honest Person.  Serj. 
What again at a stand? why you perplex the Cause worse than an Evidence that's deaf and dumb, and is only to be under stood by signs— Go to, and know your duty, for I expect an obedience as if I were your father, you're my adopted Child, and are bound to submit to my Commands; if the Ancient Measures of Divine and humane Laws are of any Force, and if they are not, I'll make new ones on this Occasion.  Mar. 
Command my Life and I will freely give it: But this is such a task I cannot think upon't, but horror seizes me.  Serj. 
Whence comes these fits in the Devil's name, they're not of the Mother i'm sure, she would have swallowed such an offer and have made no bones on't.  Mar. 
Dispose of me any ways but this, tho' it be to my Death I'll thank you for it, but to give myself up to the Lewd Embraces of a person I mortally hate is far more terrible, and I had rather starve then gain a fortune on such base conditions.  Serj. 
Conditions— why thou perverse chit of a wanton Generation, how camest thou thus bastardised? huswife, huswife, if you won't Lie with him you will with somebody you like better, and I'll make you accept of my choice, or turn you out of doors with your Load of virtue instead of a Portion, and see how the starving your Spirit will agree with the Pride of your flesh.  Mar. 
What shall I do? what Courses shall I steer?  Serj. 
Those which tend to the making you rich and happy.  Mar. 
I shall be ruined:  Serj. 
You shall be made,  Mar. 
A Whore:  Serj. 
Why you peremptory Carrion who thrives that are otherwise? is there any pleasure like that of a long Mace and a Purse, when you have the Broad-Seal for your Vindication? he's a wise man and will be careful of your honour, in regard of his own, and to my knowledge 'tis safer Trusting your virtue in his hands, than money in a Bankers— true, he is a little waggish or so; alas child that's nothing, Learned men are of opinion, that warming the blood by being now and then Facetious is very conducing to health, possibly he follows the Maxim: aside Gads, my Life, he's here now Niece, if you have any respect for yourself and me, play the part of an understanding Woman, and make use of the time: I'll step aside and watch your behaviour, have a care. Exit.  Enter Chancellor reading. Mar. 
He's gone and left me:  
What shall I choose to save my honour?  
There is no scaping, hea'ven Inspire me best:  Chan. 
I am strangely discomposed, I shall hardly be settled these two hours, what a damnable fright has this termagant Lord put me in; he's as faucy with me now he has got me in his net as a servant-maid to her Master when she has lain with him: A Disappointment on both sides with a vengeance, had I but enjoyed the little rogue, I should not have mattered, but not only miss the opportunity but also loose the Person; I must send for the Pimp her Uncle, a Pox of these papers: flings 'em down would they were burning in the Guts of him that drew 'em— I was too hasty, I was too Rash; we old men are so seldom visited with the effects of Love; we make too much of the Guest, because we know it's short. Ha! What do I see? Discovers Maria.  Mar. 
I am discovered, now fortune stand my friend— Dissimulation help me, and all the Cunning of my Sex attend me.  Chan. 
What my little wandering Jew, are you here? you had like to have made fine work, 'tis well you came back as you did, you had lost a lover else; my heart was just breaking, I was sending in haste for a Master in Chancery to make my Will— I designed to have given all I had in the World to a certain Person that shall be nameless, but one so very like thee, that a man might safely swear you were twins.  Mar. 
I should be sorry if I should any way discompose your Lordship in my leaving you so Abruptly, for which I beg your Pardon:  Chan. 
Sayst thou so? 'gad child, and I am very good-natured and heartily forgive thee, but you shall give bond to perform Covenant for the future, you shall: kisses her What a notable twang she has— I protest my dainty, piece of Marmalete, I have a strange Inclination for thee, and I cannot but think thou hast of the quality of the Loadstone about thee; turn thee which way thou wilt I have such a grudging after thee Sympathy, I'faith, mere Sympathy; thou art my Compass, and whilst thou art in being, the needle will be always pointing to the North, and I shall never be well but in thy Arms.  Mar. 
It can be only your opinion Sir, I know no quality I am endowed with unless your favour.  Chan. 
You cog, you cog, what? not know where your Magic Circle lies, no Quality; why thou hast beauty enough to merit an Empire: I am thy vassal, I who command this Nation am Commanded by thee: Come hither and answer me a question, wilt thou my Damsel? ha!  Mar. 
To any thing as may become your Servant.  Chan. 
Good, very good, dost thou love me child? answer me quickly, I am under an Agony of suspicion, and must be resolved, or I'm a dead man.  Mar. 
My ready Services shall always demonstrate the high respect I have for you.  Chan. 
Respect, Twist a Whip, tell not me of respect, I hate the expression, 'tis like giving the Cheek instead of the Lip upon a Salute— torture me not with Delay, but give me a cordial of thy kindness or I sink, I perish, I'm no man:  Mar. 
My Lord, indeed I honour you, indeed respect you, and I have often heard it said, respects the younger brother sure to love:  Chan. 
I desire none of his company, if the elder be present come near me, I must look on my Care, my Jewel, how those eyes sparkle, why they out-lustre this; let me see, place it before those white little Panting, pouting, swelling throbbing, heaving— ah Rogue!  Puts a jewel on her Bosom. Mar. 
My Lord, you throw your favours so very fast upon me, I sink under the Consideration of my Gratitude.  Chan. 
A good child, a very good child, why they're trifles to what I design thee, thou shalt be covered all over with Gold and Jewels; such things I have bespoke for thee, thou shalt outshine an Indian Queen: say, canst thou love me? speak, my honey suckle, and make me happy and thyself Illustrious, speak my blossom of a Colly-flower, my cherry-colour'd-bean with a black eye.  Mar. 
However furious my Gallants Inclinations are, I find my beauty awes him, I am Master of his heart, and may be of all he has (oh Montacute should thou do thus I fear my Chastity) however I'll seemingly comply, but nothing more.  Chan. 
What, another eye shot, She looks languishingly on him and puts her fan to her face.  
come out with it Lamb, never mince  
the matter, my doom, my doom.  Mar. 
Good Sir, spare the trouble, and let my blushes speak my heart.  Chan. 
What! must I then be forced to bribe my Judge ere she will give her opinion: here, here's Gold for thee— nay, nay, take it— she has nicked me 'faith, my way exactly, the method I use to follow to a tittle: my Sentence—  Mar. 
I am not as I was, yet cannot tell my ailing; since I have seen you Sir, my heart doth throb and beat as if it 'twould have liberty.  Chan. 
Caught by St. Winifred: she s in.  Mar. 
And when you speak of Love your words pierce through me, I find a pleasing shivering seize on me, yet covet still to hear you, and when you catch me in your arms, I am like one half waking from a sleep; I know not how to term it, a pleasant fleeting transport comes upon me, my eyes are dozed and I grow giddy with the unusual joy.  Chan. 
In Love, the Experience of 30 could not have demonstrated better: come child, I will repay it with double interest, I have a thousand fine Curiosities within my closet which thou shalt be Lady of Immediately.  Mar. 
Oh heavens'! what have I done? I have fooled myself into the spare.  Enter Serjeant Either-side. 
Blessed deliverance my Uncle,  Ser. 
My most Illustrious prop of preferment:  Chan. 
A Plague of this Rascally Sergeant, I perceive the fellow has forgot all manners since I have made him a Judge, but I'll send him packing— oh! brother Judge, you are Welcome, never more welcome, rare news, rare news; The Queen and the Earl of March have by me put an opportunity into your hands of being suddenly a great man.  Serj. 
How does her Majesty think upon her lowest of her Subjects, I shall never be able to repay the Goodness: can I serve her my Lord?  Chan. 
Why no body else, she has tried the Judges already, and they are wresty like so many tired horses, they will not budge a Jot.  Serj 
What is it my Lord, what is it?— how does your Lordship like my Niece? is she courteous?  Chan. 
Charmingly, charmingly— but to our business: there are a Parcel of froward persons that stand upon their Privileges because they're Peers, and between you and me brother, are very unmannerly, both to the Queen and the Earl: now they were ordered to be prosecuted, and the Knaves in Scarlet refused, pretending they were above their Cognizance.  Serj. 
How! above their Cognizance, who are they? let me know 'em, and their Crimes, and if I do not case 'em up, uncase me,— but what will become of me if a Parliament should be Summoned?  Chan. 
O fear it not, the Queen will never call a Parliament, lest they might question her as well as you, therefore be staunch.  Serj. 
Twist a whip as your Lordship says, I'll go through-stich.  Chan. 
There's that Prating fellow Montacute, and Whispers.  Mar. 
Ha! what said he? oh how my fears comes thick on me:  Chan. 
But I'll tell you as I go here; my Charge, take these Keys, they'll open the doors of my Cabinets; there, there, feast thy eyes, and take what thou wilt, I'll but speak a word with thy Uncle, and come and settle some Jewels and precious Stones upon thee.  Enter Gentleman. Gent. 
My Lord the Earl of March desires your speedy Presence at his Apartment.  Chan. 
The Devil boil him, again, what shall I do?  Serj. 
My Lord, I find you are uneasy at your being so open to business, nor indeed can you be private here as Love requires— what thinks your Lordship of my house? there you may be secure.  Chan. 
A Pimp of a thousand; you say worthily, nothing better, go, get you in, and take what you find on the Squab under the window, and go home to your Uncles, where I'll come and sup, as soon as I've Dispatched this business, I must talk with you as I go, nay, a Kiss, a kiss at parting: I'm in Paradise: Come, come along brother, or I shall, oh!— 〈◊〉 along, come: Ex. Chan. and Serj  ●ar. 
They're gone, and left me wretched, the darling of my soul, my virgin Love, my Dear-prized Montacute they have in chase, eager as bloodhounds when upon full scent: could I but Interpose 'twixt him and fate, I should be blessed in Dying, pitied by him: ha! what paper's this, takes 'em off the Ground. my Curiosity was never saucy yet, Love makes it now: Good heaven, what have I found, the very Scroll of Death. Directions in what manner to proceed 'gainst Montacute and others— be but Propitious Stars, and I will make this Instrument of Villainy the Guide by which I'll steer this almost sinking bark through all the Rocks which threaten his Destruction, 'twill bring me to his sight— blessed accident.  
And tho' my fortunes can't expect his Love,  
My Generous care of him he must approve. Ex.  
End of the 3d. Act.    

ACT IU.  

SCENE I. Mountacute's House.  Enter Montacute and Holland. Mount. 
ALL things move forward with a Prosperous Breeze  
And we shall reach the Harbour of Success  
Sooner than we believed, 'tis now in view,  
Heaven seems as if it took Peculiar Care,  
Promising safety to the Royal Cause,  
Inspires the King who steers the mighty Bark,  
Keeping him steady in his Resolution:  
This night but over we have gained the Bay,  
Safely we Ride Contemning future Storms.  Sr. Rob. Holl. 
'Tis Wonderful indeed, it shows the hand  
Of Providence is with us, never Prince  
Was Graced with so much Knowledge as young Edward;  
Considering his years 'tis wonderful,  
He weighs with all the Gravity and thought  
Of an Experienced Statesman what's proposed;  
Still as he speaks, the Accent of each Word  
Keeps proper time, and points to his Revenge.  Lo. Mount 
Ay! there it Centres, nothing is more sweet,  
It is the Choicest Dainty of the Gods,  
With which they feast themselves on Solemn days;  
And 'tis but Just their Representative  
Sold Diet on the same when injured with 'em.  
He Credits now the Baseness of his Mother  
Her Rank familiarity with March:  
Oh Murdered Edward— Doubly Massacred,  
Whose Honour suffered with thy Innocence,  
While thy Adulterers thrive i'th' Eye of Heaven  
They magnify their mischiefs by Success  
And Cuckold every hour thy memory.  Sr. Rob. Holl 
Tax not the Powers above left we're forsaken,  
They often suffer what they do not like:  
Their Vengeance makes us think why we are punished,  
Such visitations whets our Penitence:  
Creates reflections on the inward Cause,  
For Conscience is the mirror of our Souls,  
Which represents the Errors of our Lives  
In their full shape.  Lo. Mount. 
But tell me friend, what message is returned  
From Exeter and Berkly, will they come,  
Or choose they rather tamely to be noosed?  Sr. Ro. Holl. 
Be not too rash for they are men of Worth,  
Do not believe because they left the Court,  
Retreating to their Quiet Rural Seats  
Where they might gorge the Vulture of their minds;  
They are cold or stupid when their honour calls;  
No Montacute, believe me they have heard  
That in the Roll of Fame there yet remains  
One Chance, one Glorious Lot that's worthy hazard  
Whereby the Kingdom's fate may be retrieved,  
Roused with the Summons they have winged their haste,  
Vying who shall become the second Curtius.  Mount 
Why so 'twas with Salisbury when first  
I told the Glorious Action now in hand,  
He like some Lion almost stiff with ease,  
Loiling at length within his Antic Cave,  
Takes the Alarum of the Huntsman's found,  
At which he stretches out his well-grown Limbs,  
Brustles his horrid Main and furls his Tail,  
Whetting his Crooked Talons on the Rock,  
Staulks to the Field, and swells to meet the Foe.  Sr. Rob. Holl. 
They meet this Night at Council, where they'll find  
Matter prepared sufficient to inspire 'em.  Mount. 
All join the Nobles, Gentry and the Commons,  
The Chain is Riveted, the wresty People  
Whose Rights and Privileges are usurped  
No longer free, but all in Vassalage  
Are ripe for Mischief, ready for Rebellion;  
They wait from us the Signal when to Dole  
The Act of Justice; would the cry were up  
That I might see these Manglers of the Realm  
Drove to the Shambles, and exposed as Beasts.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
My Lord a Gentlewoman waits to speak with you.  Sr. Rob Holl. 
I'te take my leave, at six we meet again. Exit.  Mount. 
I shall not fail— Conduct her in.  Enter Maria. 
Your business fair one;  Mar. 
When I shall tell the Subject of my errand,  
Possibly it may deserve attention;  
But I must request your Privacy.  Mount. 
You are obeyed, by Heaven a charming Creature; Mount. nods to the Servant, who exits.  
Now, speak your pleasure, Madam;  Mar. 
I come, my Lord, a Suppliant from a Maid,  
Who for some years has eyed your noble worth,  
And tho' her birth, nor Fortune can pretend,  
To merit that return she long has sighed for,  
Yet so her Partial Destiny has ordered,  
She still admires your Person and your Virtues.  Mount. 
Well, my fair suitress, whither does this tend?  
Lovely deportment, and Enticing Innocence. aside,  Mar. 
With silence hitherto she has concealed  
The saucy flame oft strove to stifle it  
While in its Infant-Growth; but 'twas in vain,  
For daily it increased to such a strength,  
As did o'repower the weakness of her Sex;  
Maintained the Conquest spite of Resolution;  
Yet rather than her folly should be known,  
She let it Pray upon the Vital Parts,  
Hoping at last 'twould end the uneasy days,  
And her Ambitious Love die unrevealed.  Mount. 
That was unkindly done, she could not doubt success  
When she had one so fair to plead her Cause.  Mar. 
The disproportion is so vast between ye,  
That she must still despair and still Love on:  
Fortune has placed her where you most abhor  
Diseases, Infamy, or Death itself:  
You would not shun with more precipit haste  
If I should name the Person, yet even there  
'Midst of the Toil and Anguish of her life,  
A happy moment did present itself  
To make her be the lucky Messenger  
Of health to you, tho' she must linguer ever.  Mount. 
I'll spare the trouble of your Blushes, Lady,  
For I've a Soul so tender of the Sex,  
(Skilled in the little Niceties of Love)  
As shall prevent the torture of Confession, he takes her by the hands she pulls it from him.  
And do you Justice.  Mar. 
You wrong your Judgement, and you censure ill,  
I came not hither, Sir, on that Account,  
No loose desires the Product of ill blood  
Can blast the Reputation of my Life;  
My Honour guards me from that Infamy;  
But I am hurried hither by my Fate,  
And bring a secret of that great Importance,  
The service possibly may merit pity;  
Which if I meet with, I am well rewarded.  Mount. 
I do believe it, and accept the offer;  
Come, wave this woman's method to allure us,  
You're safe and secret here, none can disturb us;  
And I will give you such returns of Love,  
Such hearty Proofs thou shalt be soon convinced:  
Tho' it be Infant-born it Rivals thine.  Mar. 
Away, How have I erred? Are all Men thus,  
Thus full of Guilt, my senses do recover,  
And I begin to loathe the Tempter's charms:  
Read that gives a Paper.  
For I must leave you,— oh my heart!  
If thou wouldst be my friend, beat faster on,  
And force thy Passage through these feeble walls.  Mount. 
Yet stay— What have I here Proscribed?  
By all that's Sacred, Peremptory Orders  
For my Destruction; March's hand is to 't:  
How came she by this? now I recollect,  
She told me that her fate had fixed her where  
I should deteit the naming, if I knew it.  
It must be so, well my Deliverer  
I thank you— by my honour I'm sincere,  
This Scroll which thou hast given speaks thy kindness,  
And says, thou art all Goodness, tho' the Place  
Of thy abode be with the worst of Men;  
Nay, tho' it were the Chancellor himself;  
Nor will I lag in making a return, Offers a Purse of Gold. She puts it back.  
Tho' at the present I am lost in thought.  Mar. 
I am rewarded Sir, and have my end,  
If you apply this Caution  
To the right use, you may escape the snare,  
But if you slight it, than I know the worst;  
And tho' I am no suitable Companion  
In Life, yet in the Grave, we undistinguished  
May mingle ashes, tho' our souls are distant.  Mount. 
You must not leave me, I have much to say;  
The Injury I have done you by suspicion,  
When my rude thoughts led me into an error,  
I must atone.  Mar. 
Fie, 'tis too gross!  
This Language does not suit my humble Character,  
Nor is it Noble to despise my sufferings.  Mount. 
By all my hopes of Credit I am real,  
There's something from my eyes have shot my Soul,  
And I could gaze for ever on such Goodness;  
Thy Tempers worthy, if thy Birth be not,  
Distinction never had a Power o'er Love;  
Cause Nature placed me in the Womb of Honour  
She has adorned thy humbler Clay with Graces,  
Which seldom go with Greatness with Wealth;  
And 'tis but common Justice I repay,  
A Love where love has merited so far:  Mar. 
It cannot be:  
Your Dignity and Honour intervene  
Which bar the Banes for ever.  Mount. 
What, will not Gratitude with Love conjoined  
Remove? tell me no more of Honour, Dignity;  
When charms like thine appear all must give place.  Mar. 
My Lord, I had a Father and a noble one,  
Whose memory yet lives tho' he is dead  
Men spoke him Brave if Loyalty can plead In his behalf;  
'Twas Colonel Stapleton:  
The unhappy Brother of the Bishop of Exeter,  
Who by the Citizens was put to death  
For favouring the Cause of Carnarvan, Edward.  
But oh, when Royal Edmond  
The Uncle and the Guardian of the King  
Was taken off, under pretence of Treason,  
Mine suffered with him, what he had of Honours  
Or of Estate the Law has since made forfeit,  
And mean Orphan, given into the hands  
Of a time-serving Family.  
Alas! I blame myself, Condemn my madness,  
My ill-matched passion, and I'll strive  
To Curb its Power. I only Crave your Pity,  
Nor dare I hope for more, and yet I swear,  
Your Flattery, tho' known, is grateful to me.  Mount. 
Thou charmest me still, why Loyallty's a Gem  
Fit for a Prince's Crown,  
I knew thy Father, a Gallant and a worthy man he was,  
His suffering was remarkable and noble,  
And thou art Richer  
Sprung from that, than had a Traitor  
Blessed with millions got the e:  
Thou dost increase the fire within my Breast,  
Pouring in Oil instead of Quenching it,  
Let me upon this Bosom print my vows,  
And swear myself thy Beauties' Votary.  Mar. 
I know not where I am, the thrilling Joy  
Creeps through each part and extacies my Soul:  
If this be true, what Queen is half so happy?  Mount. 
Give not Distrust to the Reins because you find  
The Change is sudden, The effects are true;  
By Heaven I have more Pleasure in this Chance,  
Then e'er I tasted since I first viewed Light.  Mar. 
I know not what to say my joy's so great,  
My senses are Confused, all Crowed to meet you,  
The welcome Guest for whom so much they wished,  
But little thought it was so near at hand.  Mount. 
Believe me, oh thou Star whose Influence  
Has made me happy, that my vows are true:  
I'll to the King, Acquaint him with thy goodness,  
His safety is procured by this Precaution,  
And sure he'll recompense thy Loyalty;  
With his Consent we will for ever join:  
Thy Virtues will in future Ages shine,  
While untired Fame her matchless worth shall sing,  
Who saved her Country, Lover, and her King. Exeunt.   

SCENE II.  Enter Mortimer and Chancellor. Chan. 
To Night will it be done?  Mort. 
This Night; The Queen's gone to her Son,  
Who is in Council with these Men we've mentioned;  
At Dead of Night the Guards shall seize 'em,  
And when they once are Prisoners, see you take care  
That nothing frees 'em but an Axe or Gibbet.  Chan. 
But pray, what Evidence has your Lordship against 'em?  Mort. 
Dull Wretch, have I against 'em?  
Law and Religion sure are useless grown,  
When Priests want Vouchers, or a Judge Informer,  
Think of the management in edmond's Trial,  
And give these Lords his Fate.  Chan 
Well, well, my Lord, their business shall be done.  Mort. 
Or they'll do ours, I know their Subtleties,  
They're silent setters all, and close,  
Not apt to quest and give their quarry notice:  
'Tis then the yet draws certain to destruction.  Chan. 
But, my Lord, Judge Either side must be the Man,  
And you must make him Chief-Justice to go through it.  Mort. 
Couldst not thou do't?  Chan. 
ay, why I'm a Priest, besides Lord Chancellor, and Equity ●● never used in Cases of Life and Death.  Mort. 
Well, lose no time, but instantly prepare for't.  Chan. 
Fear not my Diligence in dispatching an enemy, But 'twould do well to get the Queen to pass an order under the Broad-Seal for the speedy removing 'em to London, and let her Son be kept here till they're dispatched.  Mort. 
It shall be done, is there ought else?  Chan. 
That's all, and I'll send up my Creatures beforehand to purchase a Jury for 'em: As for Evidence, there are Poor Rogues in abundance, and the larger the Bribe: the stronger the Oath; Adieu, my Lord, I'll give you an account how my Emissaries Fadge Exit.  Mort. 
This is a true Compound of Justice and Piety,  
For one's guided by Interest, and the other by Ambition:  
This fellow hopes to be the head o'th' Church,  
As much as I hope to be King of England,  
And whilst he serves my Ends, Perferment's his:  
A Crown, oh the Delightful sound!  
If Isabel Thou wouldst keep me thine,  
Thy Son must wait upon thy sleeping Husband:  
She's fond and Languishes; why should I doubt?  
Oh Love, thy Power has Compassed wondrous things,  
Drove out, Restored, Destroyed, and set up Kings. Exit.   

SCENE III.  Discovers the King, Leicester, Montacute, Berkly, Sir Tho. Delamore, Holland, and Exeter, as at Councils. King. 
WHat will ye further? This Scroll of Mountacutes,  
Fully expresses the dire Fiends designs:  Sals. 
Time must suit the Rest—  
Nor may we trifle Dangerous Distempers,  
If they not meet a sudden opposition,  
O'repower the application when too late,  
Rendering Art useless:  Exe. 
'Tis thoroughly advised, pursue it Sir.  Sir Tho Dell. 
Your Father whom we oft admonished,  
Nay told him plainly what hath since ensued,  
Laughed at our Cautions; Sir, you must be careful,  
Or all is lost beyond recovery.  Exe. 
If you Persist in what you seem to like,  
Safety and Glory you will find attend it;  
But if your Mother change you, farewell Power:  
Let Mortimer the place of Edward fill,  
We are content to fall if you are so.  King. 
I will observe Directions, weigh each word,  
Not vary from a tittle; my safety  
Is with yours as yours with mine;  
Sure, never Prince was saved from greater hazards:  
What must I call you, friends, that name's too poor,  
But yet a friend will venture wondrous things,  
When what he Loves is compassed round with danger;  
Let me embrace ye all, and tell the world,  
No Prince can match the Council I am blessed with:  Within. 
I must acquaint the Prince ere I admit your Majesty.  Queen. 
Traitor:  Enter a Waiter Driven in by the Queen. King. 
What means this noise?  They all rise, she walks round 'em comes to the front and speaks. Queen. 
The Rumour than is true, I find it now,  
But I much wonder ye Audacious men,  
That ye Assemble here without my leave;  
You who had fell and Justly for your crimes,  
Had not my Clemency excused your Lives,  
Has mercy hardened your Presumptuous hearts,  
Or are ye past reproof?  Sir Tho. Dell. 
Madam, what we have done—  Queen. 
There is a better man to answer me  
Then Delamore thou Usher to these Schoolmen,  
Which in their absence sets my Son such lessons.  Mount. 
Then since your Majesty—  Queen. 
Boys I could never listen to,  
Go Prattle with my Pages.  Leice. 
If I may speak—  Queen. 
Thou Driblest on thy beard, Age is a Changeling,  
And Languishes for Hospitals: You Sirs, I speak  
To Salisbury and Exeter, who draw together  
In the Team of Politics, Who sent for you?  
Be brief and answer Justly, as you love your Lives.  Sals. 
That we esteem our Lives is very plain,  
Our Care o'th' King's confirms it:  
It is by his Command we here are met,  
To Argue his Proposals, solve his Questions,  
And to the utmost of our thoughts and Duty  
Preserve the King in Grandeur, Peace, and Safety.  Queen. 
The King.  Exe. 
The King, your Majesty can be no stranger  
Being so near related.  Queen. 
Unheard of Insolence, Why who am I?  Exe. 
His Mother:  Queen. 
Traitor, there is another name and title due to me.  Exet. 
None that we know of.  Queen. 
Thou liest, and I will stamp the falsehood down thy Throat— Unthankful Boy, how canst thou suffer this, and hear thy Mother talked so to by Slaves?  King. 
Madam, your passion makes their duty stagger,  
You use 'em not like Noblemen but Pedants;  
Tho' Subjects, they have no dependence on us,  
And Majesty's adorned and served by them,  
Much more than is at all times fit to own;  
'Tis true they are not safe, but under Kings,  
Nor Kings can't flourish but by such assistance.  Queen. 
Indeed Sir, are you grown a Disputant,  
And Jabber Politics so Learnedly?  
Thou Tool, thou Instrument of self destruction,  
Dost think these State-worms mean thee further good  
Than what may serve to Introduce their own?  
I well thee, Councillors are all alike,  
And Princes know no more than they think fitting;  
So whilst his Glory does not injure theirs,  
They are content, they may grow great together.  Sals. 
Madam, this Doctrine may be Proved elsewhere  
Where Powers unjustly used by sad Permission:  
We have no Ends nor Aim but the King's safety,  
'Tis true so far our own depends upon't;  
The King's our Shepherd, born to protect his People,  
And as the Lamb flies from the Wolf to him  
That Guards the Flock, so we seek refuge here:  
Life's all we hope for; indeed Life's all in all;  
And 'tis so sweet that all are fond to save it.  King. 
Mother, in short, I am of Age to Govern,  
And here assume the Right my Father left me:  
These I have chose to be my Worthy Guides,  
I have resolved this and will make it good.  Queen. 
Have I no place? am I a Cipher grown?  
Will none afford a place for Dignity?  King. 
Accept of mine:  Queen. 
No, this may serve your Mother, Sits down a the end of the Table by Leic.  
I will sit here with this good man's allowance:  
Come l'e be Governed too— Pray be my friends  
As well as his for once.  Exe. 
Nay Madam, this we must not suffer neither:  Queen. 
What am I left alone? They all retire from the Table  
Am I infectious? dare none sit near the Plague?  
Ungracious Boy is this thy filial Love?  
This the return for all the Pangs and Throws  
I suffered at thy Birth? this the reward Weeps  
For all my Sorrows, Cares, Anxieties,  
Which through thy sickly Infancy possessed me,  
When many a weary night bereft of Rest,  
I've slumbered o'er thy Cradle, and bemoaned  
My own hard fate? now it proves so indeed:  
I've nursed a Viper, given an Adder warmth;  
Which having grown to strength forgets its parent,  
And Covets Preying on her Entrails; oh! monstrous Crime.  King. 
Nay Mother, mother—  Exe. 
Be not caught Sir, these tears like those of Sirens  
Entice you but to Leap to sure Destruction.  Queen. 
Must he alone have credit? am I nothing?  
Return e'er 'tis too late, I do conjure thee,  
By all the Comforts thou hast e'er received,  
By all thy Duty due, which heaven Commands,  
Attend my Prayers, and throw the Envenomed Robe  
Off from thy Person ere the Poison fix,  
Or else thou art lost for ever:  Sr. Tho. Del. 
Oh Sir, be steady, or you ruin all:  King. 
I must retire or I shall melt to folly, Madam,  
I'm Indisposed and must withdraw:  Queen. 
Come hither Child, and rest upon my bosom,  
I'll hush thy Cares and quiet thy Disturbers,  
As when I lulled thee first:  Exe. 
Away Sir,  Queen. 
My Son,  Sals. 
Be Deaf Sir,  Queen. 
Edward my only Edward hear thy Mother:  King. 
Force me away if you regard my Glory.  Mount. 
That shan't be wanting: They force him off  Queen. 
My Child, my Comfort, darling, Ex. all but Queen.  
Prop of my Life,  
I shall grow mad, I find the fury seize me;  
My Gall boils up, and I am all on fire,  
Come then, revenge, thou Banquet of the Gods,  
And let me Gorge my Ravenous Appetite;  
Inspire me Nemesis thou subtlest fury,  
Drive from my Soul the Weakness of my Sex,  
And make me Masculine in my Attempts:  
Some women have done Wonders in their Rage,  
Why should not I, for I have cause Prodigious?  
Nature for ever here I banish thee:  
Remorse and Conscience, Pity, all farewell,  
Instruct me Malice, and assist me Hell. Exit.  
The End of the Fourth Act.    

ACT V.  

SCENE I.  Enter Mortimer. Mor. 
MY Fears are Past, the noble Treasons signed,  
And Edward I will mount into thy Throne;  
By Heaven she was so eager in her Vengeance,  
She never read the mischief she has Granted:  
Oh how she Raved! Cursing her Son and Peers,  
Resolving not to rest, till she had Revenge:  
Now Chancellor be Staunch in this main Cause,  
And thou shalt thrive for thy dear wickedness,  
Who waits?  Enter Turrington 
Wait on the Chancellor with this, and let it  
Pass the Seal, with his utmost Speed:  
I'll Instantly be with him too myself,  
My Glories are in view, Fate be my Friend,  
In their behalf some kind assistance lend,  
'Twere hard my hopes should fail so near their end. Ex. Turr.  Enter Queen. Queen. 
Have you dispatched the Paper which I signed?  Mort. 
I have, and these couched Lions who shrink their Claws  
Till they may Grasp our Lives with firm security,  
Fall in our Toil this night:  
I have Intelligence your Son has Summoned  
His Trusty Loyal Lords to Sup with him,  
And when they're careless in their Luxury,  
We'll bolt upon 'em with such sure Destruction,  
Nor Edward, nor the World shall rescue 'em  Queen. 
Sure when their busy Souls are sent abroad,  
Their harmless bodies will let ours alone.  Mort. 
Hold but this noble Resolution, you are secure:  
The Rebel Lords have printed and dispersed,  
A formal Proclamation in your Son's name,  
In which he does Convene a Parliament,  
To meet the following month at Salisbury,  
There to dabate on proper means and ways,  
How to secure the Nations future peace;  Queen. 
A Parliament, oh Insolence!  
He shall be whipped to manners: foolish Boy:  
His Learned Council too shall be rewarded:  
If Axes, Gibbits. Racks, severest Tortures,  
Can be produced sufficient for their number.  Mort. 
Ay: now we're right, be firm and we'll be great,  
Else we must fall a public spectacle,  
To every vulgar villainy:  
For Princes like the Sun when in Eclipse:  
Call up the eyes of many to behold 'em,  
Who should have none in their full noon of Glory:  
Shine out, and you will be too bright for  
The low Crowd to gaze at.  Queen. 
Thy pleasing Accent thrills into my breast,  
Not the parched Earth when the hot Dog-Star reigns,  
Sucks up refreshing showers,  
With half the eagerness as I thy well-tuned speech:  
Oh hadst thou seen their Insolence my March,  
To thy soft Queen, thy tender Isabel,  
I'm sure thy Zeal had sent 'em from the world  
Tho' every heart thou hadst struck had been a Kings.  Mort. 
By all thy mercies and thy dearer favours,  
So much I am a slave to thy Desires,  
I should not spare a Saint that wronged my Love:  
Stars let me but enjoy this heaven on earth,  
Keep yours above, for Creatures lesser blessed.  Isab. 
Thou art the Utmost limits of my Wishes,  
And oh how dull would seem the Pomp of Crowns,  
If mightyer Love make not Ambition easy  
So hear my Soul, so rooted in my heart,  
That were my Son and Mortimer Condemned,  
And I should have the choice of saving one,  
I know not where my Nature would plead stronger.  Mort. 
Most condescending Brightness how thou charmest me,  
Why was not I a match for such a prize?  
Oh Partial heaven, unjust distributer,  
That giv'st us Monarchs Souls so poorly clothed,  
Why hast thou made distinction in the blood,  
And none at all i'th' mind?  Isab. 
It is enough that we concur in Soul:  
I think thee worthy to partake my Love,  
And thou mayst think thyself a King in that.  Mort. 
Thus Blessed than I am one, and envy none,  
And to remove all fears that Curb my Joys,  
I'll instantly dispatch thy Sons Instructers;  
Then when our enemies to Love are hushed  
We'll pay our thanks to Love in Love,  
Thou shalt the Altar of the offering be  
And I the Sacrifice which here shall die. Exeunt.  Enter Chancellor and Maria. Chan. 
Ay my Charmer, these clothes become thee,  
Now thou look'st like what thou art; but what thou  
Shalt be the Event must tell.  Mar. 
I know what you design me, my Reverend  
Equity; but I think I shall be armed against it.  Chan. 
This night but over child, we'll Revel without Measure, no interrupting business shall torment us; the authors of that Plague shall be removed, and then my little armful of comfort.  Mar. 
What then Sir.  Chan. 
Nay, wouldst thou have me tell thee, what then child, no, guess Love, guess, and tickle thyself with the thoughts on't; such things I will do for thee, thou shalt be the Darling of the Nation, all hands shall honour thee, and all eyes admire thee.  Mar. 
Shall I be this, Sir?  Chan. 
More child, more, whoever has aught to beg of Tarleton, shall come to thee; thou shalt prefer, take down, do as thou wilt; have a greater Court than the Queen— and be more thronged than a Country Church, when a Bishop preaches: In short I will set thee against the Proudest Minx that's kept either by Lord Spiritual or Temporal.  Mar. 
But Sir—  Chan. 
Not a word more, I expect the Earl of March each minute, and when this night is over, all the rest of my nights and days shall be at thy Devotion; give thy Uncle this; 'tis a Commission to take the Lives of six Rank, Stubborn, Loyal Rogues, which when dispatched—  Mar. 
Are they your Lordship's Enemies?  Chan. 
I know not what prejudice they have to my Person, but they're Enemies to my Interest, and that's a Statesman's Cause at all times: Their's Montacute, and Delamore, Holland, and others: what faces the Knaves will make at the Gallows when they're Bowels are burnt under their own noses? go Love, go, if thou stay'st thou'lt set me so a-gog for thee; and I shall be baffled: as I always have been by this troublesome March.  Mar. 
Mountacute's Death, no Villain, no,  
His fate shall be reversed if this can plead,  
And fall cursed Chancellor on thy own head. Exit.  Chan. 
'Tis a sweet little Rogue, in what a comfortable manner shall I spend the latter part of my Life, my pieth grows cold for want of a bedfellow: what tho' I am a Father of the Church; as to that point the world will say, I am debarred from the Sex; But then again, I am a Father of the Law, and I never read of a Judge or a Chancellor that was ever deprived, or suspended for satisfying the curiosity of Nature, and according to the Rules of Equity, ergo, I ought to have the same Privilege as the best of the long Robe: In short, I will enjoy this Woman as I am Chancellor, and those days wherein I cannot behave myself to her as a Chancellor, I will dedicate to devotion and Sanctity. Enter Mortimer. My Lord of March, your Lordship's most diligent and sincere humble Servant.  Mort. 
ist signed;  Chan. 
It is, and these wise Councillors shall rue they're Politics.  Mort. 
Where is it?  Chan. 
I have dispatched it to Judge Either-side, he'll make 'em smoke, I warrant you.  Mort. 
Hell and the Devil; didst thou read it?  Chan. 
No, for I concluded what it was.  Mort. 
Shame on thy negligence; why 'twas an order for the King's Confinement, his Mother's hand to make him a Close Prisoner.  Chan. 
There's no harm done, I warrant you, were it an Order for his head, this fellow would put it in Execution.  Mort. 
Send for it, he must not be concerned in it,  Chan. 
I will, I will.  Mort. 
But hark you my Lord Chancellor;  
Suppose, when we have loped these Branches off,  
The Trunk remains from whence will grow fresh mischiefs;  
I find the Boy is fond of Sovereign Sway,  
Fond of the lofty sound of Majesty;  
His Soul is tuned to absolute Prerogative,  
And all his Consort Strike that pleasing air.  Chan. 
Look you, my Lord, let us deliver him out of this Evil, and I'll take care he falls into temptation no more.  Mort. 
Thou know'st him not,  
He has a weyward Soul, and Stubborn temper,  
The Pride and Spirit of the mother swells him,  
With all his Father's positive revenge:  
He affects a mildness for the want of Power,  
But when he once has conquered his restraint  
We must expect to pay for these men's Lives.  Chan. 
Nay, 'tis good to be sure my Lord, that's certain, and if I thought his Reign would put an end to ours, Charity begins at home, and I beg the young Princes pardon, I would not tamely resign I tell him that.  Mort. 
This Parliament that's summoned will be dangerous,  
The Commons hate the Nobles, envy Us,  
And if we find not means to Curb these Measures,  
We shall too late repent our follies, Tarleton,  
Our heads, our heads, must answer for our actions.  Chan. 
Our heads! I'll send him to his Father first.  Mort. 
Ay, there thou'rt right, what sayst thou to another Edvardum, Occidere nollite tumere bonum est.  Chan. 
Say to't, why if he persists he must have it: I'll consider it my Lord, I'll weigh it maturely, and if it be requisite—  Mort. 
If it be requisite dull thing it is, he once removed, the Queen we Rule at Pleasure,  
And Mortimer and Tarleton will have both  
The power of Kings though not the Glorious Title.  Chan. 
Well, well, my Lord, these Knaves dispatched, we shall not boggle at a greater matter, I'll to the Judge and we'll consult the best.  
A decayed Statesman is a wretched thing,  
'Tis flattery and ill actions which prefers us  
And we have flatterers too which thrive by us;  
For the same reason we do by our Prince,  
Power makes us Knaves we're honest out of Service,  
But when our Prince's favours fall away,  
Nothing so despicable or so unregarded,  
Therefore 'tis Policy when once we're in,  
To finish by those Rules we did begin. Exit.  Mort. 
Nature which gav'st me Soul so long for Power,  
Accomplish what is promised by this night,  
And whilst my Creatures act this Murdering Scene,  
I'll Revel in the Arms of the fond Queen.  
A Crown thou Centre of Ambition, Lust,  
Thou'rt the reward o'th' brave as well as Just,  
And let the Factions 'gainst my Title roar,  
I'll quickly quell Disputes when once I've Power. Exit.  Scene King Edward, Montacute, Bishop of Salisbury, Delamore and Holland. King. 
Was ever Treason so unnatural?  
A mother's hand to sign her Son's Destruction,  
Now I'm convinced who set my father going.  Dela. 
Fate Sir, has put your Life in your own hands,  
And shows by this discovery how 'tis prized,  
Neglect not such a blessing but improve it,  
Strike Early or you may repent your sloth.  King. 
Good heaven! how much I owe you for this safety,  
And the kind Instrument you choose to work it;  
Oh Montacute I stand so much indebted,  
I fear I want rewards to recompense,  
Yet I'll consider till I've tired thought  
To gratify thy Love and Loyalty.  Moun. 
The Virgin who preserved you Sir, you owe it to,  
Make her amends, my Duty is my payment;  
But Sir, resolve apace, each moment is Important.  King. 
I will, we'll force the Castle.  Dela. 
Hold Sir,  
When I was Governor I found a Place,  
Which now may be of admirable use,  
There is a Private, deep, but narrow Vault,  
Whose Dismal rough unshapen way,  
Was surely torn only with hands by a dark guess,  
For 'tis so strange no light could guide the making,  
'Twas worked by Prisoners sure for Liberty,  
For in the lowest Dungeon it begins,  
And has a passage out just by the River,  
There we must enter, and when we have reached the Jail,  
The part o'th' Palace over it is Mortimer.  King. 
What follows?  Dela. 
I'th' Caeling is a place with rusty bolts,  
Which formerly no doubt was a trap-door,  
But for what use they best must know who made it,  
This we may force, and so surprise the Villain.  Moun. 
'Tis a good Stratagem.  King. 
Let's Instantly about it.  Holl. 
I think 'twere better that your Majesty  
With some o'th' Lords, and me, secure the City,  
While Montacute and Delamore with a good guard  
Pass this same Vault. my Lord of Leicester with a party force the Guards of the Queen's side  Dela. 
'Tis Prudently advised.  King. 
Each to his Task then, Mortimer we come,  
This Night begins my Reign and Seals thy doom.   

SCENE The Queen's Apartment.  Enter Isabel and Mortimer. Mort. 
Thus soft and secure we taste the Joys of Love,  
Whilst buisy Politician's plot for Interest,  
Whose akeing Brains Dances the Rounds of State,  
And all to get the Title of a Knave:  
The Soldier now lies hard for Gaudy honour,  
Endures the raw rough blast of Winter's Season,  
With all the harsh necessities of Camps;  
And for the name of Gallantry and Great,  
After a long escape Provokes his Fate:  
But Love.  Queen. 
Ay, that my Mortimer's above 'em all,  
Who envys honour that is rich in Love,  
Mercy which is the Attribute of Heaven,  
The first Creator of it sure was Love,  
And pity is the Instinct of its passion.  
Love makes the Vulgar proud, the Noble Gods,  
The Gods themselves if Strangers to Love's Joys,  
Their much admired Elysium is Imperfect.  Mort. 
Some Music for my Charmer, let us indulge  
And gratify our Souls Luxuriously:  
Raptures unknown the harmony shall raise,  
Our hearts shall beat the measures of the time,  
And tender sighs echo each artful note,  
Till our soft murmurs fall by soft degrees,  
And die like o'ercharged Flutes with too much playing.  Queen. 
I cannot answer as I ought but thus. Embraces.  A Song After the Song Montacute, Delamore, and Attendants come from under the Stage. Mort. 
Now let's to our Repose my softest Love,  
This Night ends all our fears, and I have those  
Whose Hands before the Moon has gone her Race,  
Will have our Enemies all in Possession;  
Young 〈◊〉 Montacute, that hot-bred boy  
With his old Councillor, close Delamore shall  
Smart, my Isabel. A Clashing of Swords.  
Ha! what means this noise my Guards: what ho—  
Death, it grows louder, are they all engaged?  
Treason, Treason.  Enter Turrington bloody. 
Why that dismal object?  Tur. 
Shift for yourself, Sir, all's betrayed and lost  
The King and Leicester have cut off your Guards,  
The City's at the Gates and shout him King.  
Burn Mortimer, fire the Queen— I can no more,  
But that I ever loved you, let this witness. dies.  Queen. 
Oh heavens'! what shall we do?  
Here, my best life, there is a Vault  
That will convey thee.  Mount. 
We will convey him, Madam, to a place  
As safe as he designed us!  Mort. 
Horror and Hell!  Queen. 
Oh spare my Mortimer, my gentle Son.  Mount. 
Madam, you are deceived, he is not come yet.  Del. 
Well, haughty E. of March, what think you now?  Mort. 
That I shall die, thou'st answered to thy mind.  Queen. 
O, ye malicious Powers!  Moun. 
Sir Tho. let's withdraw:  
No doubt these Lovers have a leave to take,  
We will not separate 'em too abruptly;  
Call when you're teady, Sir, I shan't be out o'th' way:  
You Sirs, secure the Vault.  Mort. 
I scorn thy Insolence,  
And Montacute, I'll fall so nobly Ex. Moun. Dela.  
That thou shalt lose thy ends in my calm sufferance.  Queen. 
Oh Mortimer!  Mort. 
Oh Isabel!  Queen. 
I know not how to look or speak,  
For I have brought this on thee,  
My Love has tempted thee to taste Ambition,  
And thou hast followed me in all thy actions.  Mort. 
Thus the first pair their miseries surveyed,  
When from their blessed Eden they were driven;  
Their eyes seemed to accuse 'em of the fact:  
But Love in each pitied the Crime in both:  
She tempted him to make him blessed like her.  
And when he found her Ruin, urged his own:  
But oh much happier was their Punishment,  
Their both were cursed, but they were cursed together,  
And suffering both alike, neither were wretched.  Queen. 
I will not long outlive thee, for I cannot,  
Thou wert the prop on which my hopes did hang,  
Like curious Buildings wrought by wondrous Art,  
Where the vast frame's supported by one Pinn,  
But that struck out I shatter all to ruin.  Mort. 
No, live my Queen, thou may'st be happy long,  
'Tis only I must bleed, my blood's the cure,  
And 'tis Impossible it can be spared;  
But Isabel when thou shalt retire,  
For oh I fear too much they will confine thee,  
Think on thy March, and pardon his Ambition,  
For nothing but my fondness has betrayed thee,  
A vast excess of Love to make thee great,  
To set thee out o'th' reach of thy Son's Power,  
Lest he might slight thee as his Father did.  Queen. 
Oh angry heavens you've punished us severely,  
The prospect of our greatness has undone us;  
The glittering show has drawn us out too far,  
And we're surprised just as we thought to grasp it,  
Like Voyagers seduced by a fair Sea,  
A temperate Air, the Sky Serene and clear,  
Just as they have their wished for shore in view,  
By sudden Storms the tattered Bark is tossed,  
And all within the sight of Land are lost.  Mort. 
He comes, thy Son approaches;  
Farewell to all that's dear,  
I leave a certain Heaven to go I know not where.  Enter King, Montacute, Delamore, Holland, Chancellor, and Sergeant. King. 
Seize the vile Traitor, hurry him down the dungeon,  
There let him groan till day, and then he dies.  Queen. 
Oh spare him, spare him, banish us together,  
But do not take his life, thy Mother pleads.  King. 
Thou Scandal of my blood— remove the Queen.  Queen. 
The Queen, am I not thy Mother?  
Oh hear me.  King. 
I'm deaf, away.  Queen. 
May heaven forget thy Prayers when thou shalt plead,  
And may thy Mother's Curse hang on thy head. Exit.  King. 
Now Chancellor for thee.  
Thou shame of Church and Justice,  
What canst thou say?  Chan. 
Nothing but beg for Mercy; for if your Majesty considers I have been but a Tool, and am not the first Statesman that has been Compelled to be a Knave by Court-Minions.  King. 
No Hereford, my Father's blood requires thine;  
Away with him, unfurnish him of all those Robes,  
And give him such as fit his wickedness:  
The Nation must be satisfied, and thou must die.  
Prepare for't, Prelates  Chan. 
This 'tis to be too Eminent in State mischiefs,  
Others that wished as well to the Cause as I,  
Will scape for not acting so publicly Exit.  Serj. 
Ay! that Chancellor I'm afraid will not die alone; I am Damnably afraid his Grace to make up his Equipage must have a Chief-Justice that we may Swing in Figure.  Montacute brings in Maria. Mount. 
Now Sir, I claim your promise,  
This Virgin is what we owe our Lives to,  
Her birth you've been acquainted with,  
And by what means she was compelled to live with the Chancellor;  
And sure 'twas Providence which placed her here for all our Benefits:  
I beg her for my Wife.  King. 
She's Yours, and to make her welcome,  
I Invest her with all the Chancellor's Estate,  
And Viscount Montacute be Earl of Salisbury.  Mount. 
Thus let us thank your Majesty Kneels  King. 
Rise both;  Mari. 
No Royal Sir, I have one boon to beg,  
That old man's Life my Uncle, tho' an ill one,  
Nor has he Acted aught what e'er was purposed,  
And since my being has made me the Instrument,  
Of what's discover d: I humbly would Entreat—  King 
Thou shalt not plead in vain, he's safe, and if he can be honest we may in time take Care of him.  Serj. 
I humbly thank your Majesty, and will study to deserve this Mercy; I am not the first Knave that has turned honest man when he found his Roguery would do him no good.  King. 
My Lord of Leicester, Delamore, Exeter and  
Holland, and all shall share our favours:  
May you continue as you have begun,  
The Parliament's at hand: If they Encourage me  
As I Expect; they shall be satisfied how 〈◊〉 love 'em.  Del. 
Doubt not their Duty Sir.  King. 
To Scotland first I will an Army Lead,  
And Check the Growing Mischiefs which are spread;  
That done to France I will in Person go,  
The Flower D'Luce shall to the Lion bow,  
If my kind Commoners are just and F●●e  
I'll lose my own or fix their 〈◊〉  
Long have they suffered by their Foreign Foes;  
And Evil Kings I fear has been the Cause,  
Heaven Guide my Steps that our Records may tell,  
How Edward did the Insulting French Repel,  
How Englishmen with Glory did Return,  
Whilst gallic Ruins did our Conquests Mourn.    

Errata.  
Page 2. line 31. for who, read which. line 32. for which, read who. Page 12. line 15. for which, read who. line 17. which, read who. Page 46. line 35. for Villainy, read Villain. line 38 for should, read would. Page 48. line 34. for Pieth, read Piety.  
FINIS.