THE English Princess, OR, THE DEATH OF RICHARD THE III. A TRAGEDY. Written in the Year 1666, and Acted at his Highness the Duke of York's Theatre.  
Nec minimum meruêre decus vestigia Graeca Ausi deserere, & laudare domestica facta.  Horat. de Art. Poet. 

LICENCED,  
May 22. 1667. Roger L'Estrange.   
LONDON, Printed for Thomas Dring, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Sign of the George in Fleetstreet, near St. Dunstans-Church. 1667.   

PROLOGUE.  
YOu must to day your Appetite prepare  
For a plain English Treat of homely Fare:  
We neither Bisque, nor Olliàs shall advance  
From Spanish Novel, or from French Romance;  
Nor shall we charm your Ears, or feast your Eyes  
With Turkey-Works, or Indian Rarities:  
But to plain Hollinshead and downright Stow  
We the coarse Web of our Contrivance owe.  
Since Laces, Ribbons, and such Modish gear  
Fetched from abroad are now forbidden here,  
Amongst those Foreign Toys (for aught we know)  
Fine Plots for Plays may be included too.  
Greece, the first Mistress of the Tragic Muse,  
To grace her Stage, did her own Heroes choose;  
Their Pens adorned their Native Swords; and thus  
What was not Grecian past for Barbarous.  
On us our Country the same duty lays,  
And English Wit should English Valour raise.  
Why should our Land to any Land submit  
In choice of Heroes, or in height of Wit?  
This made him write, who never writ till now,  
Only to show what better Pens should do.  
And for his Pains he hopes he shall be thought  
(Though a bad Poet,) a good Patriot.   


The Persons.  
King Richard the third.  
Queen Dowager of Edward the fourth.  
Princess Elizabeth, Daughter of Edward the fourth.  
Earl of Richmond, Crowned Henry the seventh.  
Earl of Oxford. Lord Lovel.  
Lord Stanley. Sir William Catesby.  
Lord Strange his Son. Sir Richard Ratclife.  
Lord Chandew of Bretany. Miles Forrest.  
Sir William Stanley. The Prior of Litchfield.  
Mrs. Stanley. A Captain. A Lieutenant.  
Charlot, Page to the Princess. Soldiers, Guards, and Artendants.   
The Scenes are laid in the Headquarters of King Richard, and the Earl of Richmond, when they are in sight of one another.   

THE English Princess, OR, THE DEATH OF RICHARD III.  
A TRAGEDY.  
ACTUS I.  
Enter King, Lord Lovel, Sir William Catesby, Sir Richard Ratclife, with Guards and Attendants. King. 
THe World must now confess, that Monarchs are  
Of him, who rules above, the chiefest care:  
For Richmond, whom in vain so long I sought,  
Whom I with half my Realm had gladly bought,  
Is (past retreat) brought home to my own door:  
Heaven could not give me, nor I covet more!  
Fond Boy! what madness with such fatal speed  
Under my Justice hastens thee to bleed?  
I owe thy Frenzy to my kinder Stars,  
Who thus conclude my dangers, and my wars.  L. Lovel. 
The Powers above are now ambitious grown  
To bribe your Favour, and preserve your Throne;  
They give you Richmond; and in giving him  
They from the power of chance your Crown redeem:  
Should the world join this Kingdom to devour,  
It would not weaken, but declare your power.  Catesby. 
Tumultuous, and Unarmed their Forces are,  
And fit to make a riot, not a war:  
The Crown tempts Richmond, like a silly Fly,  
Which dazzled with the flame does in it die.  
As Justice here below, so Heaven does blind  
Their eyes, whose execution is designed.  King. 
I both his rashness and his weakness know;  
But those, who now are weak, may stronger grow;  
I therefore have such preparations made,  
As form an Army fitter to invade  
Whole Kingdoms, then to quell a giddy Rout  
Of half-starved Fugitives, newly thrust out  
From Foreign Lands: Poor Worms! they shall not long  
Attend their Fate. Treason though ne'er so young,  
And weak, should not be dallied with, but must,  
When first it buds, and in the shell be crushed.  Ratclife. 
Great Sir, these Fugitives will soon afford  
More business for your Headsman, than your Sword:  
But 'tis not now their number, nor their arms,  
That they confide in; they have other charms,  
Which draw into their Circle, and bewitch  
All those, whom either discontent, or Itch  
Of novelty makes apt to be undone;  
The Lady El'sabeth's weak right they own  
To ground their Treason on: they boldly frame  
All Orders, Warrants, Summons in her Name.  
And thus the easy Welsh (a Nation soon  
Stirred up, and then again as soon laid down)  
Caught with this Quail-pipe to their Camp resort,  
And with Provisions the lean Troops support.  Catesby. 
Young Richmond does himself her Champion own,  
And brags, his business is to place the Crown  
On that young Lady's head, at least to die  
In the attempt,  King. 
O rare Knight-Errantry!  
By these degrees he would himself prefer  
First to espouse her Quarrel, and then Her.  
But this bold Youth shall feel, that he is more  
Outmatched in Wit, and Policy, than Powe:  
She shall be crowned, and married; but by thee,  
Young Fool! nor crowned, nor married shall she be;  
For when she wears a Crown, thou'lt want a Head;  
Thou in thy Grave, she in her Marriage-Bed  
At the same time shall lie.  Catesby. 
Sir, will you give  
Me leave to ask how your pretensions thrive,  
And what impression they have made upon  
That Lady's heart? She cannot be all Stone,  
And still make answer with a sullen No,  
When so much Power, and Eloquence shall woo.  King. 
Something towards Conquest in the Siege is done,  
For in the Queen I have the outworks won;  
But the main Fort is such a stubborn Rock,  
As does all Parleys, and all Storming mock.  L. Lovel. 
The Mother gained is more than half the day;  
A Daughter's duty must not disobey,  
And the two greatest Powers at once withstand  
Both of a Mother, and a King's Command.  Catesby. 
This present juncture of affairs requires  
A speedy answer to your just desires:  
You must those strict Formalities lay by,  
Which custom pays to Virgin Modesty;  
For now the public safety does persuade  
To court her like a Widow, not a Maid.  King. 
I know, how much depends on this dispatch;  
The Peace of Nations rests upon our match:  
I, and the Kingdom can no longer stay;  
And if she will not love, she must obey.  Enter Lord Stanley.  

SCENA II.  King, Lord Stanley, Lord Lovel, Catesby, Ratclife, and Lord Strange, etc. Catesby. 
Sir, my Lord Stanley arrived.  King. 
My best  
Of Friends! O, let me lodge thee in my breast,  
The Person of the World most coveted!  
For my occasions want thy Hand, and Head,  
Thy Council, and thy Action.  L. Stanley. 
Sir, to you  
All, that I can, all, that I am, is due.  King. 
You now may show it, Stanley in defence  
Of your best Friend; For Richmond with pretence  
Of right as weak, as his starved Forces are,  
Invades the Land; whom nothing but despair,  
Or hunger could have thrust on this design,  
Unless some Traitors here should with him join.  L. Stanley. 
Poor Mushroom! His short date of Life is out,  
Since all his hopes are in the fickle Rout;  
Whose Favour is more various, than the Winds,  
Whose Fortunes are more desperate, than their Minds.  
But when your conquering Army comes in sight,  
You'll find them fit for slaughter, not for fight.  
Of this a signal proof now brought me hither;  
For having notice there was drawn together  
A numerous body of the Borderers  
'Twixt Cheshire, and North-Wales; urged by my fears,  
Lest, unsupprest at first, this little Flame  
Grown wider might become too fierce to tame,  
I straight did hasten to their Rendezvous;  
And, lest I should the fair advantage lose,  
I did not for your Royal Order wait:  
And, Sir, the issue was proportionate  
Both to my Zeal, and Justice of your cause:  
For now our Swords have left them to your Laws.  King. 
My Lord, this service to the full does show  
How much a King may to his Subject owe:  
For Richmond these, and these had Richmond propped,  
Had not your Hand this budding Treason cropped.  
And now, my Lord, I hope, your Forces are  
Advancing hither; For I ill can spare  
About my Person, and within my call  
Such Troops, as yours, and such a General.  L. Stanley. 
You are my sovereign (Sir) a double way;  
Your Wisdom, and your Power bear equal sway:  
But, Sir, I fear th' effect, if we should join,  
And all our Strength within one Camp confine.  
You know, the Power by the Invader brought  
(Compared to yours) will scarce deserve your thought,  
Much less your Fear: He all his hopes does place  
Upon the Risings of the Populace,  
And thinks, his Snowball rolling to, and fro,  
Though slender yet, to Bulk and Weight may grow:  
If this be true, judge how important then  
Divided Bodies are of chosen Men,  
Who by their several motions may prevent  
Risings, and Succours to the Rebels sent.  King. 
So let it be: I must confess, my Lord,  
Your reasons are convincing, as your Sword.  
Honour's your Mistress; and I clearly see,  
You mean to rob me of the Victory,  
And make her wholly yours.  L. Stanley. 
Sir, I design  
The Glory to be yours, the Hazard mine.  King. 
Hazard, and Glory are so linked together,  
That without both I can pretend to neither,  
But how does your indulgent Lady bear  
This rash Invasion of her Son? I fear,  
That Treason countenanced by Nature may  
In a weak Mother's heart too strongly sway.  L. Stanley. 
The secrets of her Mind she only knows;  
I her, but not her Passions did espouse.  King. 
I dread her, as a dangerous Enemy,  
Who in the arms of my best Friend does lie.  L. Stanley. 
Her thoughts are free, but by a trusty Guard  
From all disloyal Acts her Person's barred:  
Nature herself shall be divorced from me.  
When she rebels against my Loyalty.  King. 
My Lord, your great Example may improve  
All my best Subjects in their Faith, and Love.  
And here you have a Son fit to inherit  
All that is yours: So far his early Merit  
Into my Favour is advanced, that I  
Am not at ease without his Company;  
He shall remain, though you are forced from hence;  
His stay must your departure recompense.  L. Strange. apart. 
His meaning is, I must his Prisoner be:  
Love is the foulest Mask of Cruelty!  L Stanley. 
I doubt, your Favour's too much antedate  
His Merit.  King. 
Fear it not. My Lord, 'tis late:  
Whilst you stay here, some of your time I know,  
You must on Business, and your Friends bestow.  Exit. Ld. Stanley and Strange.  

SCENA III.  King. 
Unhappy fate of Monarchs! that we must  
Often depend on those, we most distrust.  
But of this Loyal empiric (pray) how much  
In your opinions will endure the touch?  Catesby. 
Sir, I believe 'tis in his Power to be  
Your greatest Friend, or your worst Enemy:  
The softness of his words makes but that sound  
With which all hollow Bosoms most abound;  
But his late Actions, I confess, have gained  
My Faith to think his honesty not feigned:  
The rising Borderers by him suppressed,  
That he is sound at heart give ample test.  King. 
Methinks, his great unwillingness to join  
Forces together argues some design:  
And yet I must confess his reasons are  
Of weight, and fitted to the Rules of War.  L. Lovel. 
Sir, my Lord Strange will for his Father be  
A good collateral security;  
He sets such value on his young Son's Head,  
That he'll ne'er pawn it to be forfeited.  King. 
I know this business has a smiling face;  
But Lovel, watchful prudence cannot trace  
The subtle ways of a dissembling Heart:  
I am well read in that mysterious Art,  
And can discern where all my danger lies:  
Mines have destroyed more Towns, than Batteries.  Enter Sir William Stanley.  

SCENA IV.  Sir William Stanley. 
Sir, the rash Foe all your desires fulfils  
The Native Fortresses of Wales, the Hills,  
Which only could his certain Fate prolong,  
He madly has forsaken; and the Throng  
Have crossed the Severn.  King. 
Happy news! at last  
Our little Caesar Rubicon has passed.  
Either he acts the part of a mad Lover,  
Or hopes, his Rashness may his Weakness cover.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Let him come on, he, what he seeks shall have,  
Since English ground best likes him for a Grave.  King. 
Sir William Stanley 'tis beneath your Fame  
In War to fly at such ignoble Game:  
These Vipers want their Teeth. But I must ask  
Your powerful aid in a much harder task.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Nothing is hard to me, when you command.  King. 
Confirm me in that hope. I understand,  
You o'er your Sister have no little power;  
She waits upon the Saint whom I adore.  
Procure her Mediation for my Love;  
If she in the design successful prove,  
You shall be less my Subject, than my Friend;  
My Gratitude shall all your Hopes transcend.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Reward did never yet my duty move;  
And I am no good Advocate for Love.  
But, Sir, my prompt Obedience shall fulfil  
All your Commands, and help my want of skill.  King. 
That Love, from her which you obtain for me,  
With double Interest shall rewarded be.  [Exit King, Lovel, Catesby, Ratclife. Sir Wil Stanley solus. 
When Nature formed this Monster, she designed  
No less, than the destruction of Mankind.  
His Enemies but poorly satisfy  
The Hunger of his Rage, which seeks supply  
E'en from his nearest Blood, and his own Bed:  
His Wife was poisoned, and his Nephews bled  
To feed the Wolf. His Friends are kept alive,  
As Indians crammed for Sacrifice survive.  
And now this Monster both in Crimes and Shape,  
On fairest Innocence designs a Rape.  Enter the Princess crossing the Stage from her own lodgings to the Queen's Apartment: In passing by Sir Will. Stanley speaks to his Sister waiting upon the Princess. 
Sister, a word. Mrs. Stanley. I instantly will come.  Mrs. Stanley leaves the Princess in the Queen's Apartment, and returns to her Brother.  

SCENA V.  Mrs. Stan. 
Now, Brother, what's your will?  Sir W. Stan. 
I hope, this Room  
Is private, and secure.  Mrs. Stanley. 
You need not fear  
An ambush; no close Spies can harbour here.  
But whence this Caution?  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Wonder not; I bring  
A strict Commission for you from the King.  
You must his Mistress gain; then happy we!  
I shall a Prince, and you a Princess be.  Mrs Stanley. 
'Tis the great Art of Kings for their Intents  
To make right choice of proper Instruments;  
But ours has grossly failed in his own Trade.  
Pray, bid him choose again.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
You can persuade  
The Princess.  Mrs. Stanley. 
No: I love him not so well,  
Nor her so little.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
But have Gifts no Spell  
To charm your Heart, and dazzle your young Eyes?  Mrs. Stanley. 
Him, and his Gifts I equally despise.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
You serve your Mistress, making her a Queen.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Brother, you know her not: But, had you been  
In presence at her secret Vows to day,  
You would not dare to think what now you say.  
Her Honour, and Revenge she values so,  
That she for them will Crown and Life forgo.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
You have her favour, and at least may try,  
If she will yield a little and comply.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Such is her Horror of him, that no Age  
Did so much Beauty see with so much Rage.  
This undertaking would too dearly cost,  
For, next the Tyrant, she would hate me most.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Sister, with equal Joy great proofs I find  
Both of your faithful, and her generous Mind.  
And now suppose, that I a Champion show,  
Who will, and can destroy her powerful Foe;  
May this bold undertaker hope to prove,  
As in her cause, successful in her Love?  Mrs. Stanley. 
In common Justice she can do no less,  
Then love the Author of such happiness.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Will she that powerful Passion for him own,  
Which mingles Souls, and makes two Lovers one?  
So high a work should be as highly paid;  
Who kills the Dragon must enjoy the Maid.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Now you come on too fast: For he must wear  
Of Royalty the sacred Character,  
Who without Sacrilege attempts to be  
At such a holy shrine Love's Votary.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Sister, you talk in a Romantic strain;  
Pray, spare your Metaphors, and be more plain.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Brother, the Queen, and Princess!  [Enter the Queen, and the Princess.] Sir Will. Stanley. 
Let us go,  
For I have much to say, and you to do.  Princess. 
Madam, your pardon and your leave I pray  
To speak one word with her.  Queen. 
Daughter, you may.  The Princess talks in private with Mrs. Stanley, and the Queen advanceth forwards upon the Stage. Queen. 
To what extremes am I reduced by fate?  
I give to him, whom mortally I hate,  
Her, whom my heart loves most! It must be so:  
To save a child, I must oblige a Foe!  
The unconcerned may the World's Censure weigh;  
I Nature, and Necessity obey.  
Let Honour's Laws be scanned by Rules of Art;  
None, but poor Mothers know a Mother's Heart!  The Princess comes forwards to the Queen. [Exeunt Sir William Stanley and Mistress Stanley.  

SCENA VI  Queen. 
Well may our Patience, Daughter, be admired,  
Which has the Tyrant and Heaven's Anger tired.  
For in the King you now a Lover meet,  
Who lays himself, and Sceptre at your feet.  
My Heart with swelling Joy is larger grown,  
To think my Blood shall repossess the Throne;  
To see our withered Hopes spring forth a new,  
Whilst all our Ruins are repaired in you.  Prin. 
Madam, your Joy more than my own; I prize,  
When from a lawful cause your Joy does rise:  
But, Madam, yet I cannot find our Fate  
Of the old Rigour does the least abate.  
Till Heaven's slow Justice shall ordain a way  
With his own Blood to make this Tyrant pay  
What he so barbarously has spilled of ours,  
In wonted Sorrows we must spend our Hours:  
Of the least joy should we be guilty found,  
We both our Honour, and our Duty wound.  Queen. 
Long have we mourned the Dead, yet all our grief  
To them, or to ourselves brings no Relief:  
To their cold Ashes 'twere a fond respect,  
The safety of the Living to neglect.  Prin. 
If that safe way to Infamy shall lead,  
I rather choose the Paths of Death to tread.  Queen. 
The name of Infamy can it deserve,  
To follow Nature, and ourselves preserve?  Prin. 
Nature abho'rs, that you should call him Son,  
Who has your Children robbed of Life, and Throne.  Queen. 
Do not those wounds of Fate to mind recall;  
Because we much have lost, must we lose all?  
If we have suffered Shipwreck, and our best  
Vessels are sunk, shall we not save the rest?  Prin. 
Alas! are the rest saved, when you commit  
Them to that Tempest, which the others split?  Queen. 
Repentance turns that Tempest to a Calm.  Prin. 
That Calm may soon relapse, and grow the same  
Tempest again, swelling the Purple Flood  
Both with the Brother's, and the Sister's Blood:  
A Calm and Tempest mingle in this Wooer,  
The Calm betrays, the Tempest does devour.  Queen. 
Trust to a Mother's Judgement. The sure test  
Of Prince's meanings is their Interest.  
That very Cause, which moved his Cruelty  
Against my Sons, inclines him now to be  
As kind to you: his Passion must be true;  
In courting you he courts his Safety too.  Prin. 
Shall then the Butcher of our Family  
By me, and by my love protected be?  
Two Parricides did his foul hands imbrue,  
When he his Sovereign in his Nephew slew.  
Shall I be Instrumental to make good  
His Power cemented by my Brother's Blood?  
No Madam; If it be my Fate to prove  
The object of his Cruelty, or Love,  
It shall not be my choice to have a Room  
In his loathed Bed, but in my Brother's Tomb.  Queen. 
'Tis true, a Sister's Love in some degree  
May these transports of Passion justify;  
Yet in a Sister's Love you should not smother  
The duty, which you owe a tender Mother.  
My Sorrows, as my losses, are not less,  
Then yours, though I their angry noise suppress;  
And though I suffer not with blind Despair  
A Mother's Grief to drown a Mother's care.  
Daughter, submit: When I prescribe the way  
Of safety, you in Duty must obey.  Prin. 
The way prescribed does not to safety carry;  
This Tyrant's Bed makes a bad Sanctuary.  Queen. 
Were you a private Person, did you stand  
Secure out of the reach of his Command,  
I should agree with you; But 'tis your Fate,  
His Love to suffer, or to feel his Hate:  
No middle way can these Extremes avoid,  
By him you must be married, or destroyed.  Prin. 
Joined with my Brothers in their silent Grave,  
Losing my Life, I shall my Honour save.  Queen. 
When you abandon Reason's steady ground,  
Honour is nothing, but an empty sound,  
'Tis a false light, at which fools gazing stand,  
Till they themselves on their own shallows strand.  [Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Madam, the King does in your Lodgings wait.  Queen. 
Tell him I come. Before it be too late,  [Exit Servant. 
Preserve yourself, and me; live, and obey:  
Throw not your Life, Heaven's chiefest gift, away.  [Exit Queen. Prin. 
A Mother, and a Tyrant join to force  
My plighted heart to an unjust Divorce:  
But, Richmond! the Temptation of a Crown  
Shall not divert me, nor a Tyrant's frown:  
I'll follow thee, whom powerful Heaven does lead  
To save the living, and revenge the Dead.  [Exit Princess.   


ACTUS II. SCENA PRIMA.  Enter Sir William Stanley and Mrs. Stanley. Mrs. Stanley. 
Run not so fast: you tread on slippery Ice,  
And on both sides lies a vast Precipice.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
My Stars have led me on to hazard all;  
And rather, then turn back again, I'll fall.  Mrs. Stanley. 
The Rash will perish, and they fall unmourned;  
And losing Life, their memory is scorned.  
Attempts upon the King must fatal prove;  
Much more your Aims at the great Princess Love▪  
Against so Potent Foes what can you do,  
The King, great Richmond, and the Princess too?  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Those Rivals shortly may themselves destroy,  
And then why may not I the Prize enjoy?  
When on their Ruins I shall raised be,  
It will be level ground 'twixt her, and me.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Do not your thoughts on these Chimaeras spend,  
Impossible both in their means and End.  
Could you as speedily in fact subdue  
All those great Powers, as now in thought you do,  
Yet you might sooner scale high Heaven, then gain  
That Love, which wild ambition would obtain.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
If to my courage she her lost Crown owe,  
I may partake the Gift which I bestow.  
Our Souls have equal Fineness: you mistake,  
Thinking, our drossy Parts the Difference make.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Have you the Tyrant's strength? who are alone  
In Passion strong, which we our Weakness own.  
Consult your Reason: 'Tis a dangerous thing,  
Poor Subject! to be Rival to thy King.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
To Cowards talk of Danger▪ Love, and Fear  
In the same Heart Joint-Tenants never were.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Dear Brother, these sick Fancies, pray, remove:  
Know this last secret; She does Richmond love.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Too late you tell me this, when in one Flood  
The Poison runs about me with my Blood.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Love and all madness, Brother, ever reign  
Much less about the Heart, then in the Brain:  
Lovers may blame their Stars, or Cupid's Bow;  
Here dwells the Heat, whence their Distempers grow.  [Points to her head.] 
Those, who are most possessed with this Disease,  
By Sleep, and cooling medicines found their Ease.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
This sharpness, Sister, aught to be forborn;  
My Sufferings ask your Pity, not your Scorn.  [Enter the Princess and Charlot. Mrs Stanley. 
Here comes the Princess. Brother, pray, retire:  
I wish, my Tears could quench your Raging Fire.  [Exit Sir William Stanley.  

SCENA II.  Princess, Mrs. Stanley, Charlot▪ Charlot. 
Madam, yield not to these transports of Grief,  
Until the cause proves worthy your Belief:  
My Judgement thinks him true.  Princess. 
Thou art a Fool,  
And of thine own plain Heart dost make a Rule  
To measure others by: That sudden Joy,  
Spread through the Court, too clearly does destroy  
All promised Hopes from this perfidious Lord.  Char. 
My tender years small Judgement can afford:  
But grant, this Lord were true, yet he must use  
These Arts, and the misjudging world abuse.  
His Loyal Purposes would not succeed,  
Unless in this dark Method he proceed.  Mrs Stanley. 
The Tyrant to that Height of Power is grown,  
That open Force can never pull him down;  
He's to be conquered only by Surprise:  
Those Arts must work his Fall, which made him rise.  
Who this Wild Boar adventures to destroy,  
Must Toils, and Weapons both at once employ.  Prin. 
With raging Forces to destroy our Friends,  
Is a strange method to effect our ends.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Dark minds we must in Darkness overthrow;  
To blind the King, we must be blinded too.  Char. 
A Public Error must our Work secure;  
Madam, with Patience than you may endure  
Unpromising, and false Appearances,  
Which must be bad to gain a good Success.  Prin. 
Thy pretty Logic has a charming sound,  
But the foundation wants a steady ground.  
Can Stanley be for Richmond, and invade  
The Friendly Succours rising to his aid?  
The mystery I dread: This treacherous Lord  
Revolts from Honour, and has broke his Word:  
Private Concern within his narrow Soul  
Does all the Care of Public good control;  
And his unworthy Fear for his young Son  
(The Court's great Pledge) our business has undone.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Ah, Madam, do not make this cruel haste!  
With antedated Grief your Heart you waste.  
He is my Brother; and my Blood I'm sure,  
'Gainst you no Taint of Treason will endure.  Prin. 
All hopes are past; and we must ruined be,  
Since the whole World takes part with Tyranny.  
Poor Richmond hastens to his Fatal End,  
Lost by his Courage, and a Treacherous Friend.  [Enter Ld Stanley. Mrs. Stanley. 
Behold my Brother! It is he, that must  
Make your Grief causeless, and your Fears unjust.   

SCEN. III.  L. Stanley. 
Madam, I hope, you'll pardon my delay  
In waiting on you this preposterous way;  
Paying my first Debt last: which your Concern  
Only can justify.  Princess. 
By what I learn  
From the World's Voice, I rather disallow  
Your hasty boldness to approach me now.  L. Stanley. 
Humble Petitioners without Offence  
(Though led by their own Wants) approach their Prince:  
I whom your Service brings, may with less blame,  
And better Title the like Freedom claim.  Prin. 
Place not on my Account what you have done:  
I, and the Tyrant are not yet all one.  L. Stanley. 
You seem all one (pray, pardon what I say)  
When with Reproach my Services you pay.  Prin. 
If other Payment you expect, pray go  
To him, for whom these Services you do.  L, Stanley. 
I never let to hire my Honesty;  
I neither paid, nor yet reproached would be.  Prin. 
Are you so touched in Honour, my good Lord;  
Who so apparently have broke your Word?  L. Stanley. 
May I endure yours and your Vassals scorn,  
When I infringe that Faith, which I have sworn.  Princess. 
These purging Imprecations let alone,  
You have the Tyrant's thanks for what is done.  L, Stanley. 
I have deceived the Tyrant and you too;  
And I am thanked by him, reproached by you:  
Yet this deceit of mine may him dethrone,  
And, Madam, render you your Father's Crown.  
Thus blind all Censures are, until we know  
Those hidden Roots, whence outward Actions grow.  Princess. 
Pray, end these Mysteries: Who did oppose  
Those Loyal Borderers, that lately rose  
Against the King? all Aids you did prevent  
By that unseas'nable discouragement.  L, Stanley. 
I did suppress them, Madam; But 'twas I,  
That raised them too.  Princess. 
I cannot yet descry  
At what you aim.  L. Stanley. 
Pray know, that by my own  
Confed'rates all that rising was begun;  
Which I contrived only to be suppressed:  
This Art I used, that in the Jealous breast  
Of our suspicious Tyrant I might gain  
Such Trust, as will our purposes obtain.  
And, that you may reserve no Jealous thought,  
Here my Credential Letters I have brought,  He delivers a Letter to the Princess, who reads it out. 
Madam;  
The time draws near, in which I shall either restore you to the Inheritance of your Father's Crown, or die a Martyr in your cause. My Devotion to your Person, and the justice of your Claim; raise my hopes into an Assurance of Success. In the mean time by the hands of my Lord Stanley, your concealed and faithful Servant, be pleased to accept this earnest of his Constancy, who is Madam, Your most devoted Servant.  
Richmond.  Princess. 
My Lord, I know the hand; and what to you  
I did impute, that Blame becomes my due.  
Errors of Passion, not of Will, may find.  
An easy Pardon in a generous Mind.  L. Stanley. 
Madam your goodness now confounds me more  
Than your unkind reproaches did before;  
But your concernments now require my haste,  
And make the price of Time too great to waste.  
Yet, ere I part, I must with Joy relate  
Of our improving 'cause the prosperous state;  
For your great Chief advances with a Power  
Resolved and Numerous, growing every hour;  
Which still receives by a supplied access  
Of the Heroic Welsh a fair increase.  
And, Madam, from this Camp you soon will see  
His Flying Colours brave the Enemy.  Princess. 
His hasty Succours may advance too late.  L. Stan. 
Too late? how can that be?  Prin. 
The Tyrant's hate  
By a most Fatal Metamorphosis  
Does in Love's Image his ill shape disguise;  
Of which I dread the dismal consequence.  L. Stanley. 
The thoughts of his own Danger, and Defence  
Will soon allay the crafty Lover's Heats.  Princess. 
Whilst I am in his Power, no Fatal threats,  
That aim at him, can make my safety better;  
For, when his danger's great, mine must be greater.  
His bloody Temper urged by Jealousy  
Will all his former cruelties outvie.  L. Stanley. 
Madam, can Heaven for such a Tyrant's sake  
Pervert their Justice, and you Guilty make?  
But is it true, that now the Queen does prove  
A Mediator for the Tyrant's Love?  Princess. 
It is too true: A Mother's tender heart  
Does for my safety take the Tyrant's part.  L. Stanley. 
Has she forgot, what Guardian he has been  
To her two Sons? Has she not lately seen  
What Husband to his Wife he proved? and can  
A Mother give a Daughter to this man?  Princess. 
My Lord, she is my Mother; pray, forbear.  L. Stanley. 
I must not speak what you are loath to hear.  Princess. 
I fear, my Lord, that our great business may  
Suffer some damage by your longer stay;  
And yet one minute more you must attend,  
Whilst I an answer to this Letter send.  L. Stanley. 
Your sight with no mean Joy my heart does bless.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Brother, your kindness makes my happiness.  Exeunt Princess and Mrs. Stanley.  

SCEN. IU.  Lord Stanley, Charlot. L. Stanley. 
Sir, by the noble Richmond's strict commands  
I am to leave this Letter in your hands.  
You are entirely happy in his grace;  
I find you there possess an envied place.  Charlot. 
I may presume, that for so poor a thing,  
As Charlot, Envy cannot find a sting.  L. Stanley. 
Your Person I confess, should always prove  
The subject not of envy, but of love:  
Nature does court you; and her Favourite  
Is for a Prince his kindness ever fit.  Charlot. 
My Lord, you quite mistake me; I was worse,  
Then nothing, till my Essence from that Source  
Of goodness was derived: From him I own  
Being, and Happiness. So the kind Sun  
Smiles on a Clod of Earth after a shower,  
And then prefers that Dirt into a Flower.  L. Stanley. 
Your Person, and your Gratitude both show  
Your Patron just, when he is kind to you:  
I find, the Royal Princess too does seem  
To give you the same place in her esteem.  Charlot. 
She does her gracious countenance afford  
To a slight Toy sent to her from my Lord.  L. Stanley. 
But in this jealous Court what Industry  
Has thus preserved you from each watchful spy?  Charlot. 
Their business is above, I keep below:  
Besides French Pages are the Fashion now.  
But pray, my noble Lord, what numbers join  
Of French Nobless to favour our Design?  L. Stanley. 
I durst not public in their Camp appear,  
But of a Breton Lord much Fame I hear;  [Charlot starts.] 
He's Chandew called. What's this? something I find  
By your changed face, has discomposed your mind.  Charlot. 
My Lord, I hope you will not think it strange,  
That in my troubled breast you see this change:  
Impressions, such as these, are often wrought,  
When absent Friends and Country fill our thought.  
Such fits will quickly vanish. But I fear,  
That our attendance we too long forbear.  L. Stanley. 
Charlot, 'tis well advised; Pray, show the way.  Exeunt L. Stanley and Charlot. Enter again Charlot reading the Letter. 
My Charlot, I beg the continuance of thy kindness, in being the faithful Interpreter and Promoter of my Passion to our adored Princess.—  Charlot shuts the Letter suddenly. Charlot. 
Dear Paper! I to thee this Homage pay,  [kisses the Letter] 
Though I in thy contents already find  
A Warrant for my execution signed;  
Which I must serve upon myself, and be  
The instrument of my own Destiny.  
Though I am thus condemned, yet I not grudge  
To kiss the Sentence, and adore the Judge.  
I only pray, my Punishment may be  
Kept secret, and exempt from infamy:  
Alas! my hopes are vain; for how can I  
Conceal a Daughter from a Father's eye?  
My Fault's too great for Pardon, I allow;  
Yet I as great a Penance undergo:  
Since I assist my Rival to possess  
That, which possessed, destroys my Happiness.  
Grant, Heaven! at least, that I may part from hence  
As clear in Honour, as in Innocence.  [Exit Charlot.  

SCEN. V.  Enter King, Queen, Ld Strange, and Attendants. King. 
Well, Madam; will she yield?  Queen. 
I did not spare  
My labour to reduce her, nor my care.  
Patience must this to happy issue bring.  King. 
Patience is not the Virtue of a King.  
It will concern you, and your Daughter too,  
Not to become too tedious.  Queen. 
Sir, you woo  
In a strange Language.  King. 
I must change my course.  Queen. 
Nothing does less consist with Love, than Force.  King. 
Call Stanley, and his Sister. The Idle may  
In lingering Courtship trifle out the Day:  
Slow Treaties will to stormings him oblige,  
Who leisure wants to take the Fort by Siege.  Princess. 
In exigents of State, or Rage of War  
Sudden dispatch, and Force conducing are;  
But Sir, in love-concernments they destroy  
The chiefest Blessing, that you would enjoy.  King. 
Madam, these tedious forms destructive grow;  
The safety of my Crown they overthrow.  
Like a bold Suitor Richmond marches on,  
And by pretending Love to Strength is grown:  
When Kingdoms such Convulsion-fits endure,  
We must not compliment about the Cure.  [Enter Sir Will. Stanley 
Stanley, have you performed, what I enjoined?  Sir W. Stan. 
I have obeyed you,  Sir. King. 
But do you find  
Good Symptoms of Success?  Mrs. Stanley. 
What shall I say?  [apart. Sir W. Stan. 
Sir I have done my part.  King. 
Then I must lay,  
Madam, the blame on you, if my design  [Too Mrs. Stanley. 
Miscarry.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Sir, unless the Fault be mine,  
Your Justice will not punish me with blame.  King. 
I do not like this Prologue. Does my Flame  
Yet warm her Breast?  Mrs. Stanley. 
Sir, she condemns your haste:  
And says, her time of mourning is not past  
For her two Brothers; and she thinks, that you  
(Your Queen scarce cold) should be a mourner too:  
Then she concludes it would great Scandal move,  
If two so deep in Sorrow should make Love.  King. 
She thinks, it is too soon for me to woo;  
But does she think it so for Richmond too?  
Madam, you know her Bosom; pray, be free:  
Is she not warm to him, and cold to me?  Mrs. Stanley. 
Sir, you mistake the Temper of her Heart;  
Where grief holds all, Love can pretend no part.  King. 
If she be free from Love, her Duty may  
With less reluctancy her King obey.  
I wish, I had more cause to thank your care  
In my concerns. Madam, your Brothers are  
My greatest Friends: methinks, you should inherit  
With their high Blood some of their loyal merit:  
Madam, be kind; and let me not despair,  
That Heaven has made you good as well as fair.  
Madam, I will attend your Daughter straight,  [To the Queen. 
To learn of her mine, and the Kingdom's Fate.  [Exit King. L. Strange. 
Uncle farewell: would I might stay with you.  Sir W. Stan. 
You must obey your King and Father too.  [Exit Strange.  

SCENA VI  Queen, Sir Will. Stanley, Mrs. Stanley. Queen. 
Did you not mark, how his contracted brow  
Did curl like Waves, which to a Tempest grow?  Sir W. Stan. 
Madam, this gathering Storm (if not withstood)  
Will end in a Prodigious Rain of Blood.  Queen. 
Too well I know the Ills, these Signs presage;  
This Storm on me, and mine will shortly rage.  
How often, cruel man! must I be stain  
In every Child, and yet not end my Pain?  
Ere thou didst tear away each tender shoot,  
Would thou hadst laid thy Hatchet to the Root!  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Madam, he wants the Bowels of a Man,  
Who sees your Grief, and does not all he can,  
In your Redress: When you my Sword command,  
'Twixt him, and yours I will a Bulwark stand.  Queen. 
Sir, were your offer more, than compliment,  
I should such kindness to its worth resent:  
But by his favours you are prepossessed,  
And wear the Tyrant's Chains, though not oppressed.  Sir Will. Stan. 
Those seeming favours, which he does impart,  
Are no true marks of kindness, but of Art:  
When he propitious to my Vows appears,  
He does but sacrifice to his own Fears.  Queen. 
Alas! I am not worth a new design  
Of farther ruin: You need not combine  
By subtle ways to draw me to my woe;  
I am passed falling now, Ily so low.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Let all in Heaven and Earth, who sacred be,  
The great, and good, be Witnesses for me,  
That I to you, and yours will loyal prove.  Queen. 
Such ardent Zeal, and such a sudden Love  
From him, who seemed a Foe, must well be scanned,  
Ere they by Force of Words my Faith command.  Mrs. Stanley. 
I know my brother's Interest, and his Heart;  
His Passion wears no false disguise of Art.  Queen. 
If his deep Vows, and those confirmed by you,  
Should move my willing heart to think them true;  
What means has he from threatning Storms to free  
The small remainder of my Family?  Sir William Stanley. 
None can be saved unless they first believe:  
Madam the great deceiver I'll deceive.  
You cannot see the depths of my design,  
But you shall hear it when I spring the Mine.  Queen. 
These mighty Promises advanced by you  
Ask time for thanks, and for acceptance too.  [Exit Queen.  

SCENA VII.  Sir William Stanley, Mrs. Stanley. Mrs. Stanley. 
Brother, what's your Design? I fear, you move  
In these Attempts provoked by your rash Love.  Sir Will. Stan. 
Though Love be the great Cause, yet I should do  
The same by Honour moved and Justice too.  Mrs. Stanley. 
To save true Princes from a Tyrant's doom  
Is that, which may a Stanley well become:  
But with unlawful Passion to invade  
What mutual Vows and Heaven have sacred made,  
Will all the Glory of your Life deface,  
And tarnish all the Lustre of our Race.  
Do you not see the great Design of Fate,  
That peacefully would quench the fierce Debate,  
In which this harassed Land too long has bled,  
By planting these two Roses in one Bed?  Sir Will. Stanley. 
The truth of what you say I know too well;  
But Love against my Reason does rebel.  
The Enterprise less difficult will prove  
To vanquish Richard, then to conquer Love.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Such hopeless Love no longer entertain;  
The Saint, whom you adore, you but profane:  
It will both mortal, and unglorious be,  
To touch the Fruit of this Forbidden Tree.  Sir Will. Stanley. 
Though between me, and my Pretensions lies  
A Chaos void of Possibilities,  
Yet I must on: Those things, I mean to do,  
Shall make you say, I did not rashly woo.  
If Love's Religion Merit will allow,  
He may find Grace, who has performed his Vow.  [Exeunt.   


ACTUS TERTIUS. SCEN. I.  Enter King, Princess, Ld Strange, Guards, and Attendants. Ld Strange 
apart.] The Tyrant now will our poor Princess bait  
With Kindness far more Cruel, than his Hate.  King. 
Madam, be pleased to let your Guards withdraw.  Prin. 
My Guards? And must their Prisoner give them Law?  King. 
Madam, your are their Queen. Both these and I,  
And with us all the Nation prostrate lie,  
Begging the Honour of your Government.  Prin. 
What you in pleasant Raillery present,  
Your serious Conscience knows, is all my Due;  
This with the rest I must endure from you:  
And to the will of Heaven I can resign  
What you have ravished both from me, and mine:  
But though you tie my Person, as your Slave,  
Yet let my Thoughts the common Freedom have;  
The Thoughts of Prisoners cannot be confined:  
No fettered Slave can love against his mind.  King. 
Though I confess, that for the Public Good  
And safety of the Realm I have drawn blood  
(Heaven knows!) against my will, yet, Madam, you  
Are grown the greater Tyrant of us two.  
The Realm's inflamed, and wounded; you may quench:  
This Inflammation, and the Bleeding stench.  
Though I am much unworthy of your Love,  
Yet England's Safety should your Pity move.  
Madam, your love vouchsafed to me has Charms,  
Which can dissolve all Enmities, and Arms:  
All our Divisions close; the War is done,  
When Right, and Power consent to join in one.  Prin. 
Sir, could your cruel empiric rudely choose  
No Subject, but Compassion to abuse?  
Is Pity that, which you pretend to teach?  
O Sir! that you had practised what you preach!  
Then had you not the Royal Plants cut down,  
To clear your Passage to the sacred Crown.  
The Blood you spilt, provokes Heaven's striking Flame,  
Whose long Forbearance takes but surer aim.  King. 
Madam, I need not fear a Punishment  
Out of the Clouds: Heaven spares the Innocent:  
The Thunder, which I dread, does only lie  
In your contracted Brow, or angry Eye.  
Repeal that Censure, which misjudging Grief  
Lays on the Guiltless, and gives small Relief  
To your great Losses, making those my Crimes,  
Which were effects of the distracted times.  
I mourned as much, as you, the hasty Fate  
Of that lamented Pair, whose lives short Date  
I rather would have lengthened with my own,  
To be their Subject, then to wear their Crown.  Prin. 
You robbed me of my Blood, and Regal Due;  
Would you deprive me of my Sense too?  
My Reason is reversed! with me, alas!  
Richard the third for a mild Prince must pass!  King. 
Did you believe me Cruel at that rate,  
Which you pretend, you would not tempt your Fate  
By Provocations able to engage  
Patience itself into a bloody Rage.  
But, Madam, you are safe; I shall endure  
All your Distempers, and attend their Cure:  
Your Interest must at last your Passion sway.  Prin. 
My Interest shall my Honour still obey;  
Which abhors him, who does usurp my Crown  King. 
Madam, by Title justly 'tis your own:  
Take it, and wear it. When I put it on,  
I saved the Crown for you, you for the Crown.  Prin. 
I fear, your words contain less Truth, than Art;  
For seldom has your Tongue expressed your Heart.  King. 
My Tongue speaks truth: I only beg the grace  
To be your Subject in the foremost place;  
That is, your Husband.  Princess. 
I expected this,  
In these fair Flowers to hear the Serpent hiss.  King. 
When common Persons marry, Passion may  
Direct their Choice, whilst Fancy bears the sway;  
But with great Princes the wise Rules of State  
Must be as binding, as the Laws of Fate:  
Their Inclinations by those Rules must move;  
The Public Good's the centre of their Love.  Prin. 
For Public Good, what you usurp, resign:  
Make me not yours by Force, but give me Mine.  King. 
You say too much: I see, you'll rather prove  
The Subject of my Justice, than my Love.  
Th' Invader Richmond is your loved Gallant,  
Whose Treason does not your allowance want.  
Prepare for marriage, or a Funeral;  
To be my Wife, or not to be at all.  
Madam, you shall be crowned; Choose and be wise;  
Either for Empire, or for Sacrifice.  Prin. 
Spoke like yourself: I knew, the mask of Lover  
Would soon drop off, which did the Tyrant cover.  [Exit Prin. King. 
Through Rocks of Opposition this alone  [Pointing to his sword] 
he's hewed my Passage to the craggy Throne.  
These hands (the sharpest scythe of time) mowed down  
All, that grew up between me, and the Crown.  
I did my Greatness to a Height advance  
Above the Stormy Region of wild Chance:  
And shall frail Woman, Nature's slightest thing,  
Outbrave the Power of Death, and such a King?  
I am but able to destroy, and kill;  
She can do more, for she enjoys her Will.  
Contempt of Life does all Power overthrow;  
'Tis Fear, makes Gods above, and Kings below.  [Enter the Queen.  

SCENA II.  Queen. 
Can it be true, Sir, that your Fatal breath  
Has cruelly pronounced my Daughter's Death?  
Can you so suddenly degenerate  
From Love's soft Passion to a mortal Hate?  King. 
Madam, more, than my Life, I still love Her;  
But I the Kingdom's weal to both prefer.  
Complain not of the Hardship you endure,  
Since your own hands contain a present Cure.  Queen. 
When Love his message to a Virgin brings,  
Slow Patience lends him Feet, and clips his Wings.  King. 
With Patience, like Love's Martyr, I have born  
Not only her Denials, but her Scorn:  
It is not Modesty, which makes her Cold;  
Her Heart instead of Love does malice hold:  
A guilty Passion she does clearly show  
To him, who is her King's, and Country's Foe.  Queen. 
If she stood so inclined, how can you doubt,  
But that a Mother's Eye would find it out?  King. 
Whether that ignorance, which now you show,  
Be Real, or Affected, you best know:  
To me her words, and Actions both declare  
Which way her Inclinations biased are.  
The Traitor Richmond holds so large a Part  
Within her Bosom, as excludes my Heart:  
But in few hours I will Possession get,  
And drive him thence, or else destroy the Seat.  Queen. 
O Sir! pass not a Judgement so severe,  
Till the suggested Crime does more appear.  
If she refuse the Courtship of a Crown,  
She cannot stoop a meaner Flame to own;  
And quit the Glory of a Queen, to live  
The obscure Wife of a poor Fugitive.  King. 
But this starved Snake warmed by her special Grace  
Invades the Land, and rises in my Face.  
Madam, your Daughter's Choice will quickly show,  
Whether his Crimes belong to her, and you.  
To morrow's Sun shall light her to my Throne,  
Or on her Treason see due Justice done.  Queen. 
Be not so hasty to pronounce her Fate;  
Can her not loving be a Crime of State?  King. 
Madam, we lose but time, whilst you apply  
To the improper place your Remedy:  
For the malignant part of this Disease  
Lies only in your Daughter's Stubborness:  
Cure that, and she no longer will be seen  
Her King's just Prisoner, but the Nation's Queen.  [Exit King. Queen. 
Which shall I call the Cruel, or the Mild,  
This bloody Tyrant, or my Stubborn Child?  
Both are alike resolved, and act their Part  
To break, and tear a tender Mother's Heart.  
She no Concern for Life does seem to own,  
But Death accepts more gladly, than the Crown.  
I find the Charm, which does this Spirit raise;  
Richmond, as Sovereign in her Bosom sways.  [Enter Sir Will, Stanley.  

SCEN. III.  Queen, Sir William Stanley. Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, I come my Destiny to learn,  
Which wholly now depends on your Concern.  
The Danger of the Princess draws too near;  
The Tyrant does all marks of Fury wear.  
Will you accept my Service?  Queen. 
Sir, I must  
Confess, your faithful zeal deserves my Trust.  
Now I believe, you are ordained to be  
The great Preserver of my Family.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, your fair Esteem I will make good,  
And seal my Promise with my dearest Blood.  
But now that we may take a speedy Course  
By secret Practice, or by open Force  
To disappoint the Tyrant, and pursue  
The Business of your Safety, I must sue  
For my Admission to the Princess Ear:  
Some needful Orders I must have from her,  
Of high Importance to our work in hand.  Queen. 
Your Merit, and our Danger, Sir, command  
Your speedy satisfaction: But the King  
Must be at farther Distance, ere I bring  
You two together. His great Jealousy  
With highest Caution must attended be.  
Let us retire, and study, how we may  
Make perfect your Design the safest Way.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, you walk apace from your Distress:  
Designs well modelled seldom want success.  
The Foolish Crowd, who outsides only view,  
Give that to Fortune, which is Wisdom's Due.  [Exeunt.  

SCENA IV.  Enter Mrs. Stanley, and Charlot. Char. 
He robs her both of Crown, and Liberty!  
Can he the Gaoler of his Mistress be?  
To promise Love, and thus to break his Vow,  
Is all the Treason, that a King can do.  Mrs. Stanley. 
He, like the worst of Thiefs, means farther ill;  
For Tyrants after robbing always kill.  
The Sacrilegious Monster will devour  
The Saint, whom he so lately did adore.  Char. 
Avert it powerful Heaven! such Cruelty  
Must not live long, nor so much Virtue die.  
Her glorious Champion now draws near, and he  
Killing the Gaoler will the Prisoner free.  
And, Madam, to divert the painful thought  
Of her Restraint, I have some music brought:  
Music I know, will not ungrateful be  
To her, whose Soul is perfect Harmony.  Mrs. Stanley. 
In this you will our Princess highly please;  
And at this distance she can hear with Ease.  

SONG.  

I.  
TYrant thou seek'st in vain  
With her pure Blood thy guilty Sword to stain:  
Heaven does that Sacred Blood design  
To be the Source of an Immortal Line.  
Death will not dare to touch that Heart,  
Which Love has chosen for his Dart.   

Chorus.  
Fair Innocence, and Beauty are  
Of watchful Heaven the chiefest care:  
But the devouring Monster shall  
A Sacrifice to justice fall.   

II.  
Richmond does fly to your Redress;  
(Love's Messengers can do no less.)  
His Sword shall with one Blow  
Cut off your Fetters, and the Tyrant too.  
All Resistance vain will prove  
When Valour is inspired by Love.   

Chorus.  
Tyrants by Heaven and Earth are cursed;  
They swell with Blood, until they burst:  
But Lovers are wise Nature's ear;  
What jyrants ruin, they repair.    Charlot. 
This will the trouble of her thoughts allay:  
'Tis time to give attendance; let's away.  Exeunt.  

SCEN. V.  [The Scene changeth to the Earl of Richmond's Quarters.] Enter Earl of Richmond, Earl of Oxford, Lord Chandew, and Officers, etc. Richmond. 
My Lords, the World must now be taught by you  
What a good Cause, and a good Sword can do.  
When Valour leagued with Justice goes to fight,  
Both Heaven, and Earth their Forces then unite:  
Such Union can no more resisted be,  
Then Men can save themselves from Destiny.  
The odds of number on the Tyrant's side  
Are but the Signs, which show his Fear, and Pride.  
They are the fairer Mark: Usurpers must  
In multitude of Guards repose their trust.  
But, whilst with numbers they their Camp o'recharge,  
They but our Fame, and Booty more enlarge.  Oxford. 
When we engage with such a guilty Foe,  
Heaven's Justice adds more weight to every blow.  
We only to their swift Destruction move,  
Who are condemned already from above.  Chandew. 
The Plains of Redmore seem to be the place,  
Where our Just Valour must the Guilty face.  
Where Conquest will a noble Harvest yield,  
And turn to Groves of Laurel Bosworth Field.  Oxford. 
'Tis true we deal with a destructive Foe,  
(The nearest of his Blood have found him so)  
But his pernicious Hands more practised are  
In private Murder, then in open War.  Chandew. 
Each common Soldier makes the cause his own,  
As if none were concerned but he alone.  
But 'tis not strange to see the Soldier fired  
To such a Height, when by your Flame inspired.  Richmond. 
My Lords, I to your courteous praise agree;  
They may be high, because you heightened me.  
The Prior of Litchfield, Sir, is lighted here,  Enter Soldier. 
And humbly craves the favour of your Ear.  Oxford. 
'Tis he you sent for, Sir; whose Name is high  
For Learning, Pious Life, and Prophecy.  Richmond. 
Those Leaders most shall prosper, who advise  
With Heaven ere they begin their Enterprise.  [Exeunt Oxford, and Chandew.  

SCEN. VI  Earl of Richmond, Prior of Litchfield. Richmond. 
Excuse me, Father; for I think it rude  
To call you to a Camp from Solitude.  
I am informed, that you to private ears  
Foretold Events, which cured my Party's fears.  
Your Power with Heaven is such, as may obtain,  
What otherwise I should despair to gain.  
This, Father, is the cause of my address.  Priour. 
Then, Sir, thank Heaven; for you shall have success.  Richmond. 
Now I believe, the public Voice is true,  
Which does ascribe Prophetic Force to you.  Priour. 
That Light dwells not in Sinners: I should be  
Charged with the worst of Crimes, Hypocrisy,  
If I pretended to that holy Fire,  
Which does the cleaner Hearts of Saints inspire.  
But 'mongst the Records of our Priory  
Th' Authentic works of the wise Gildas lie;  
Whose holy Life, and whose Prophetic Fire  
The Ages passed with reverence did admire.  
In his large Volume I shall only trace  
What does concern your Person, and your Race.  Richmond. 
The Authors Value heightened by your Praise.  
Does expectation to assurance raise.  Priour. 
First he runso're the Conquests of this Land  
By Saxons, Danes, and by a Norman hand:  
Then mentions the two Roses; and in brief  
Foretells th' Event of that Intestine Strife,  
Which has the noblest Blood of England cost,  
And the best Provinces of France has lost.  
Our Author next upon the present state  
Of our own times more largely does dilate:  
And saus the sury of a Savage Boar  
Shall his own Blood, and then this Land devour.  
Then he describes the Man (and you are he)  
Who must redeem this Realm from Tyranny;  
Who after Conquest shall by force of Love  
More then by War, our happiness improve.  
For peaceful England shall the Roses find  
No more in battle, but in marriage joined.  Richmond. 
What can be more? shall I successful prove  
In all my hopes of Empire, and of Love?  Priour. 
Sir, much remains behind; your Race shall do  
Things yet more worthy of themselves and you;  
They shall an Union make of louder Fame,  
And of two Kingdoms one great Empire frame.  
But after this a Tempest does succeed,  
Which Hell shall with contagious Vapours feed;  
This Tempest will produce a deed so black,  
That Murder than shall an example lack.  
But from this dark Eclipse a Prince will rise,  
Who shall all Virtues of your Race comprise.  
Foreign, and Native Foes he shall o'ercome,  
With force abroad, with lenity at home.  
Though in our separate World, this happy Land  
The centre of his Power will fixed stand,  
Yet here the wide Circumf'rence must not end,  
But with the Ocean jointly shall extend.  
Let Envious, and ungrateful Nations join  
His Birthright to usurp, or to confine;  
When they invade his Empire on the Main,  
They will but act the Giant's War again:  
And when his Sea-Dominion they dispute,  
His Thunder shall those Sons of Earth confute.  Richmond. 
These great and glorious things whilst you recite,  
You fill my Soul with Wonder, and Delight.  
Your Sccuts, Sir, are returned, and bring you word,  [Enter Soldier. 
That the Usurper's men have passed the Ford.  Richmond. 
There's for thy News: I wish th' alarum true.  
Father, we now must part; yet we'll pursue  
The same great End, though in a different way;  
For I must go to fight, and you to pray.  [Exit Priour. [Enter Oxford and Chandew.  

SCEN. VII.  Richmond, Oxford, Chandew. Oxford. 
We both have viewed the Foe within our ken;  
And we are certain, they are Stanly's men.  
Their Number's not five thousand; And their Post  
Is not so fixed, but that it may be lost.  
Sir, we may force their Quarters; And on these  
Begin the Number of your Victories.  Richmond. 
No, my dear Oxford; Those, whom now you see,  
Must be unseen, and need not conquered be,  
For they are ours already. But this must  
A Secret be for yours, and Chandew's Trust.  
From their so near advancing you may learn,  
That the next Sun will end our great Concern.  
My Lords, we have but little time to spare;  
Our Arms, and men we must with speed prepare.  Oxford. 
With Joy your Orders we shall all obey;  
Our zeal to serve you suffers by Delay.  [Exeunt. [The Scene is Changed to the Princess Lodging.]   


ACTUS QUARTUS. SCEN. PRIMA.  Enter Sir Will. Stanley, Mrs. Stanley, Ld Strange. Sir W. Stanley. 
Nephew, pray leave us: If the Guards should see  
Our close Converse, we should suspected be:  Ld Strange. 
I am the Witty Tyrant's Cruel sport,  
Fettered in Silk, condemned to be at Court.  [Exit Strange. Sir W. Stanley. 
Sister, pray tell the Queen, by her Command  
That I wait here to kiss the Princess hand.  Mrs. Stanley. 
If you reveal your madness, you will lose  
The Glory of that Rescue, you propose;  
For such a daring Lover she'll despise  
More, than she hates her rudest Enemies.  Sir W. Stanley. 
So far my sense with your advice accords,  
That I'll show Deeds more daring, than my Words.  
Pray, go. O Coward Heart! shall sudden fear  [Exit Mrs. Stanley. 
Possess my Breast, that was a Stranger there?  
Must I now tremble at a Woman's sight,  
Who was not born for Terror, but Delight?  
Thus Nature's Law is by Love's Power controlled,  
Which men disheartens, and makes Women Bold.  [Enter Princess.  

SCEN. II.  Princess, Sir William Stanley. Mrs. Stanley. 
Madam I humbly beg, that I may have  
Leave to expose my Life, your Life to save.  
My Zeal has long lain speechless, though not weak;  
And 'tis your Danger now, that makes it speak.  Prin. 
Sir by the Queen's Advertisement I learn,  
How great a sense you have in my Concern.  
You have a Brother too, whose Constant Love  
By many secret Trials I approve:  
And, though Court-Favours on his Person shine,  
His Outside is the King's, his Inside mine.  Sir W. Stanley. 
'Tis my Misfortune, Madam, that I must  
More, than my own, to others Merit trust:  
And yet ere long I may deserve your Ear  
Without the help of an Interpreter:  
I in your Favour should to none submit,  
If more, than all the World, I merit it.  
I hope, if I relieve your present State,  
You will my Love by my Performance rate.  Prin. 
Your Language too mysterious is; more plain  
Expressions sooner will my Credit gain.  
In your pretended Love you must not vie  
With those, who wish me well by Nature's tie.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, There is a Love which does outgo  
All that of Sisters, and of Mothers too.  Prin. 
Hold Sir; These airy Notions pray forbear:  
For I am deaf to what I should not hear.  
Give me no Cause to make a Foe of him,  
Whose Friendship to my House I would esteem:  
For I the Tyrant's Rage shall more approve,  
Then the rude Boldness of a Subjects Love.  Sir W. Stanley. 
So far from us below you are removed,  
As makes you fit to be adored, not loved;  
Yet from such Love, as does Heaven's Favour gain,  
I need not, Madam, as from Sin, abstain:  
If Heavenly objects you resemble most,  
Can Heaven be gained, and you the same way lost?  Prin. 
Hold Sir; This vain Discourse does ill become  
Her, who is newly summoned to her Tomb.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, those Summons ' you shall ne'er obey;  
I, or the Tyrant first shall lead the Way:  
Your Death designed shall forfeit him his Crown;  
The Grave, he digs for you, shall be his own.  Prin. 
What sure Foundation, Sir, can I descry  
Of this bold Promise, which you raise so high?  Sir W. Stanley. 
Foundations, Madam, are laid under Ground;  
And mine, though not exposed to View, are sound.  
By painful Flattery, and by long Address  
I to the Tyrant's Bosom have Access:  
And Death by Steel or Poison is his Due,  
Who forms a black Design to murder you.  Prin. 
Those Southern Arts to stab, or poison Foes,  
Become the Climates, where such Poison grows:  
He, that is born of a true English Race,  
Never destroys a Foe, but to his Face.  Sir W. Stanley. 
But, Madam, can you give your Life away,  
And to the Tyrant be a willing Prey?  Prin. 
To see him fairly killed, I would resign  
All Right to what he holds, and should be mine.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Versed in the World, but yet not knowing you,  
Madam, I ne'er till now, true Honour knew:  
I am your Convert; and so taught, I may  
Ere long to perfect Glory find the way.  
And, Madam, for a Trial, I this Vow  
Here solemnly declare to Heaven, and you;  
The Tyrant shall be slain, and you released  
Nobly by him, whom, Madam, you love best.  
In the Sun's Eye, and in the open Field  
Fierce Richard shall by Richmond's Sword be killed.  
You, Honour's Mistress, when this Work is done,  
Without Reproach your Proselyte may own.  Prin. 
I fear, you take great pleasure to surprise  
My thoughts with Riddles, and dark Prophecies:  
I shall refer my Faith to their Event;  
Now my last hours must otherwise be spent.  [Exit Princess. Sir W. Stanley. 
As Chemists vex themselves, and Nature too,  
When her Elixir they in vain pursue;  
And yet their toil does other Secrets find,  
Which improve Art, and benefit Mankind;  
So, though a hidden Love I seek in vain,  
Yet in the Pursuit I shall Glory gain.  [Exit. The Scene is changed to a Field adjoining to Richmond's Quarters.  

SCEN. III.  Enter Earl of Richmond, Lord Stanley. Richmond. 
Talk not of Victory; Heaven can confer  
No Blessing on that Man, who loseth Her.  L. Stanley. 
I know, the Tyrant, when all hopes are past,  
Reserves that bloody Stroke for the last Cast:  
Surprise him with a Charge; that may prevent  
The Execution of his dire Intent.  Richmond. 
Could I destroy with the same ease and speed,  
Him, and his Camp, as he can make her bleed,  
Your Counsel then were good; But else her Fate  
By my Attach I should accelerate:  
The bloody Tyrant, stung with Jealousy,  
Will, pressed by Danger, twice revenged be,  
Including me in Her: He cannot choose,  
But hastily destroy what he must lose.  Ld Stanley. 
It still has been the Care of Providence  
From sudden strokes to shelter Innocence.  Richmond. 
I Providence adore; But to expect  
A Miracle, and so the means neglect,  
When now the Danger of her Life is near,  
Were to deserve the mischief, which we fear.  Ld Stanley. 
No way, but Conquest, can prevent her Doom.  Richmond. 
I'll yield myself a Prisoner in her Room.  Ld Stanley. 
Can the Restraint of her Preserver be  
The safest way to set the Prisoner free?  Richmond. 
'Tis all the way; because the Tyrant's Fear  
Of Richmond makes his Cruelty to Her:  
When I am in his gripe, his Appetite  
Will in my Blood, more, then in hers, delight.  Ld Stanley. 
Sir you mistake him; both will please him best:  
By drinking Blood the Thirst is still increased.  
Sir, your important Life you freely may  
Lay out for her; But throw it not away.  Richmond. 
I am resolved, that secretly to night  
You shall convey me to the Princess sight.  Stanley. 
Shall I conduct you, where you Death must meet?  
Here let me rather perish at your Feet!  Richmond. 
O friend! my Love in this great Exigent  
Must Dangers seek, which yours would fain prevent:  
Nor can those Dangers be avoided here;  
My Life, and Safety are confined in Her;  
Come, guide me to the Princess that I may,  
If not secure her Life, her Death delay:  
And be assured, my Lord, that her Commands  
With your Advice shall wholly guide my hands.  Ld Stanley. 
Sir I both yours, and her Discretion know;  
And on your Terms proposed I yield to go:  
But this great Enterprise you must disguise  
As well to your best Friends, as Enemies;  
For, should it be divulged, your Absence here  
May prove as fatal, as your Presence there.  Richmond. 
Take me, my Lord, and rule me, as you please.  
You (unsuspected yet) may gain with ease  
Admission to the Tyrant's Court; and I  
May pass, helped by the Night's Obscurity,  
And a long Absence, for your Officer.  
Besides, my Lord, our Camps now join so near,  
That our Return may both prevent the Day,  
And all Reports of being gone away.  Ld Stanley. 
Reason and Love, when Danger they descry,  
Did never yet make use of the same Eye:  
For now this Hazard, which your soaring Love  
Lessens to Nothing, does my Horror move.  
But, since it is my Duty to obey,  
Let's not increase your Danger by Delay.  Richmond. 
On you my Hopes, and Happiness rely;  
You are the Ruler of my Destiny.  The Scene is changed to Richmond's Quarters.  

SCENA IV.  Enter Earl of Oxford, Lord Chandew. Oxford. 
Twice through our Quarters I have walked the Round,  
And to my Wonder, have not Richmond found:  
Can he his Person in a Season hid,  
When the next Day must Royalty decide?  
The knowledge of his absence from the Camp  
Would all the Courage of our Army damp.  Chandew. 
In Common Soldiers I did never see  
Minds so prepared for Fight, and Victory.  Oxford, 
My Lord, this Land does yield a sturdy breod,  
Which, when they are well fed will freely bleed:  
You French have questioned, if they eat, or fight  
With greater appetite, or more delight?  Chandew. 
I must allow, though yet a stranger here,  
That your Clime only such a Race does bear.  
French courage is to Noble Blood confined;  
The rest are Slaves in Body, and in Mind.  [Enter Officer and delivers a Message. Exit.] Oxford. 
My Lord, this message does increase my Fear;  
We nothing yet can of our Gen'ral hear.  Chandew. 
Heaven give him safety; and I only crave,  
He may a Conquest find, and I a Grave.  Oxford. 
By sudden starts you show a smothered grief:  
Unvented Sorrows seldom find relief.  Chandew. 
I long have wished to empty in your Breast  
A grief, which may be pitied, not redressed:  
A grief, whose lenitive is such a Pain,  
As strongest Nature hardly can sustain:  
A Daughter's Death is all the Favour now,  
That Heaven's Compassion can a Parent show.  Oxford. 
What most you love, you hope and wish to lose:  
What sadder Object can your Fears propose?  Chandew. 
Here you the height of my affliction see;  
I hope her Death, I fear her Infamy.  Oxford. 
Your Grief concludes too fast; you cannot know,  
But that she's safe in Life, and Honour too.  Chandew. 
My Lord, when I have told my Story out,  
I shall too easily remove the doubt.  
That Daughter, who did once make all my Joy,  
And all my Happiness does now destroy,  
Did so forsake me in a Fatal Night,  
That she twelve Moons has wasted out of sight:  
And this with Horror does my Grief renew,  
For, if by Force surprised, she's murdered too.  
If not; I dread an uncompelled Escape  
More, than the mischief of a bloody Rape,  Oxford. 
In this sad Story I confess, there are  
Just grounds of Fear, but not of your despair:  
Those motives, which induced her to withdraw,  
Perhaps may do no wrong to Honour's Law:  
For, if she lives, she does a Mind derive  
From you, which cannot loss of Fame survive.  Chandew. 
Your Friendship puts a favourable Gloss  
On actions, which imply her Honour's loss.  
But in this straight of Time I will forbear  
To make you longer a Joynt-sufferer.  Oxford. 
The Night does waste; and to the public Eye  
'Tis fit our General's absence we supply.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE V.  [The Scene is changed to the King's quarters.] Enter King, L. Lovel, Sir William Catesby. Catesby. 
Miles Forrest is his Name; a fellow stout,  
And yet so dull, he never felt a doubt;  
Nor questions deeds ill relished by the Laws:  
He weighs reward, but measures not the Cause.  
'Twas he, Sir, who outwent your swift commands,  
When the two Brothers fell by his bold hands.  King. 
ay, that's a Friend. Go, Catesby, call him in.  [Exit Catesby: 
My Justice on the Princess must begin:  
Her favoured Interest has a double sting;  
For she can make, and can unmake a King.  [Enter Catesby, and Forrest. 
O fellow-soldier, welcome! Nay; come near:  
What Office in our Army do you bear?  Forrest. 
I am Lieutenant to Lord Lovels Troop.  Catesby. 
He does by more, then common service, hope,  
That he already has your Favour won,  
And merits to do more by what is done.  King. 
Employment, and Reward he shall not miss;  
The first old Company, that falls, is his.  
And that his present wants I may relieve,  
Catesby, let him two hundred Marks receive.  Forrest. 
An't please you, I can't talk, but I can do;  
I can spur on through good, and bad ways too.  King. 
I like him; he's a blunt, plain, honest man.  Catesby. 
Sir, he'll talk little, but do all he can.  King. Catesby, 
I shall employ him in a deed,  
Wherein he'll show, he's hearty by his speed.  
Necessity of State will not allow  
Leisure for Scruples, which from Conscience grow:  
Who fellow Conscience, often come too late.  Forrest. 
Sir, as to good, or bad look you to that.  King. 
Well spoken: go, and from our Catesby be  
Instructed; your reward expect from me.  [Exit Forrest. Lovel. 
Sir, with your Person's safety can no way  
Be found, this Execution to delay?  
Her bleeding, when in public understood,  
Will cause a Fever in the People's Blood.  King. 
If I prevail, I am above the harms  
Of sudden Tumults, or intestine arms.  
If I am lost; Richmond my Throne may have;  
But he shall find his Mistress in her Grave.  Lovel. 
Your Strength so far transcends your Enemies,  
That such precautions you may well despise.  [Enter L. Stanley. King. 
My Lord, I am transported with your sight.  L. Stanley. 
Your Soldiers now want but the morning's light,  
To charge the Enemy, who, past retreat,  
Are opportunely lodged for a defeat.  
I come, led by my Duty, and my Care,  
For your last Orders in this great affair.  King. 
Our Council's called, and suddenly will sit;  
You shall receive your Orders, when we meet.  L. Stanley. 
Sir, in these Quarters I am much surprised,  
Hearing, the Princess is so ill advised;  
I had the honour once of her esteem;  
And now would fain serve you, and her redeem.  
Be pleased to grant me free access, to try  
How far I may induce her to comply.  King. 
After so many trials, your Success  
I question; but I yield to your address.  Ld Stanley. 
Sir, though I lose my Pains, I'll lose no Time.  [Exi ᵗ Ld Stanley. King. 
Is not that Subject guilty of a Crime  
Deserving Death, who makes his Prince afraid?  Catesby. 
It is the worst high Treason to invade  
The chiefest Right belonging to the Throne:  
All should a Monarch fear, but he fear none.  King. Catesby, 
I must on your great Care rely,  
That his young Son may not escape your Eye.  Catesby. 
Sir, he is strictly watched.  King. 
When we decide  
The Field, he in these Quarters must abide:  
If with the Father we should trust the Son  
In open Battle, we should Hazard run.  Ld Lovel. 
You make your Creatures useless, when your Care  
Acts all the painful business of the War.  King. 
Mark these: the stubborn Princess, when I send  [To Catesby. The King shows two Rings to Catesby. 
This Ruby, must her Life's short story end,  
And this when you receive, young Strange must die.  Catesby. 
When you command, my Duty must comply.  King. 
I came not lazily to wear the Crown,  
But 'twas with watchful labour made my own;  
And so I'll keep it. Princes are not wise,  
Who sleep themselves, and trust their Servants Eyes.  
But, if at last I must my Power resign,  
It shall be Fortune's Error, and not mine.  Ld Lovel. 
Where so much strength, and Conduct join in one,  
Fortune is but an idle looker on.  The Scene is changed to the Princess Lodging.  

SCEN. VI  Enter, Princess, Mrs. Stanley, Charlot. Prin. 
When I am dead, let noble Richmond know,  
That dying I did court the Tyrant's Blow:  
To keep my Faith, my Person is destroyed;  
I by a Grave the Tyrant's Bed avoid.  Charlot. 
It doubly would to us your Death transfer,  
If I should tell, and he this message hear:  
Madam, to me it were a happier Doom,  
If I might kindly perish in your Room.  Prin. 
To me Death's Face more dreadful did appear  
Far off, then now, when it approacheth near.  
Death is a debt, which all to Nature pay;  
They clear it best, who die the noblest way.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Heaven has designed you for a Public Good;  
Your Greatness yet lies folded in the bud:  
No Tyrant's hand shall crop it whilst it grows;  
You shall ripe Glory at the full disclose.  Prin. 
Your Kindness now does sound like flattery;  
Truth only should be spoke to those that die.  
You need not cast these mists before my eyes;  
I can my Danger see without surprise.  
I only grieve, that I must leave behind  
A Parent grown by too much love unkind.  
A Mother's Tenderness makes our contest;  
She loves my Safety, I my Honour best.   

SCENA VII.  Enter Earl of Richmond, Ld Stanley, and Officer of the Guards. Officer. 
Though my Commission peremptory was,  
Yet you (my Lord) upon your Word shall pass.  Ld Stanley. 
I know a Soldiers charge; and would forbear  
Without full warrant to adventure here.  Exit Officer. Prin. 
What may this vision mean, which does my eyes  
At once with Horror, and Delight surprise?  
But, since the faithful Stanley does appear,  
I cannot think him brought a Prisoner here.  Richmond. 
Led by the Duty of my Love, I come  
Resolving to divert, or share your Doom.  Prin. 
Ah! what can you divert by coming here  
Disguised, and not an open Conqueror?  
When you your Danger rashly thus increase,  
How can you hope to make my Sufferings less?  Charlot apart. 
[apart. What does his cruel Passion mean to do?  
He'll lose himself, and for my Rival too!  Richmond. 
Let not my Hazard, Madam, waste your care:  
Can I be safe, when you in Danger are?  
When you are gone, what have I more to do?  
All Cause of living perisheth with you.  Prin. 
Weak minds may throw away their Lives in vain,  
And have Recourse to Death for fear of Pain:  
If this were Courage, Women would not do it;  
Those, who dare least, are still most subject to it.  Richmond. 
On your account I own my want of Heart;  
Here Fortune wounds me in my tend'rest part.  
All other Storms of Fate my Soul could bear:  
Only your Danger, Madam, makes me fear.  Prin. 
Is it an Honour, you reserve for me,  
To be the cause of your Apostasy  
From that high Courage, which has raised your Fame?  
You must not cast such Scandal on our Flame.  
By your Concern for me you must be more,  
And not be less, than what you were before.  Richmond. 
Ah! Madam, whilst my Fears you thus reprove,  
You show yourself a Stranger grown to Love;  
Your own Experience else had made it clear,  
That Lovers Hearts are never void of fear.  
Who thus are unconcerned, act not the part  
Of a Courageous, but a hardened Heart.  Charlot. 
If his be hard, 'tis only hard to me.  apart. Prin. 
I blame not your Concern to set me free,  
But your Despair, which makes you thus neglect  
The only Means, which can my Life protect;  
For if my Danger may diverted be,  
Your Conquering Sword must force my Liberty.  Richmond. 
How can I draw my Sword, when I descry  
Your Fatal Ruin in my Victory?  
The Monster balted, and then Furious grown,  
Will all his Rage discharge on you alone.  
But what we cannot by a Rescue gain,  
Perhaps by an Exchange we may obtain:  
The Tyrant, jealous of the Chance of War,  
Will, to be seized of me, your Person spare.  
I humbly beg this Favour at your Feet,  
In which your Safety, and my Glory meet.  Princess. 
By such a change I shall a loser be;  
The Ransom over-buys my Liberty.  
Whilst you the Height of Love in this express,  
You teach my Gratitude to do no less;  
Which will not let you here usurp my Room,  
Nor yield, that you shall rob me of my Doom.  Richmond. 
Has Heaven but mocked us with such excellence,  
Only to show it, and then snatch it hence?  
Can Providence want Power, or Will to save  
Virtue herself from the devouring Grave?  Princess. 
Take heed! your Passion does unruly grow  
Against your Reason, and Religion too;  
Sir, when you injure those, you injure me:  
You must obey, not argue Heaven's decree;  
And both our losses with a Courage bear.  
Worthy of me, and of a Conqueror.  Rich. 
What shall I do? when Heaven, and Love combine,  
To make the Danger yours, the Terror mine:  
You are the Person hurt, and I complain;  
Yours is the Wound, and mine is all the Pain.  Princess. 
These soft expressions of your kindness might  
In some more proper Season move delight;  
But they offend me now, when you should be  
Preparing in the Field for Victory.  
Pray, Sir, departed; For you by Conquest must  
With Laurel crown my Temples, or my Dust.  Richmond. 
If this perfection (Heaven!) so like your own,  
Must only fill a Tomb, and not the Throne,  
How will our Faith subsist, how shall we know,  
That those above have thoughts of us below?  Princess. 
When you expect a Favour, 'tis not just,  
Nor safe, that you the giver should mistrust.  
Let my example now instruct your mind;  
Be much resolved, and yet as much resigned.  
So Heaven preserve you, Sir! my Presence may  
Perhaps be guilty of your longer stay.  [Exit Princess. L. Stanley. 
The Princess is retired; pray, Sir, make haste;  
The Night's your shelter, and begins to waste.  Richmond. 
My Lord, I go: only a word from thee,  
My faithful Boy, which may my Cordial be.  [To Charlot. 
Say; does our Mistress with an open Ear,  
When thou dost speak for me, thy pleading hear?  
And yet alas! What ease will it impart,  
To lose her Person, and to gain her Heart?  Charlot. 
Your Highness now may well these questions spare,  
Since her own Words did all her Thoughts declare.  [Enter Mrs. Stan. Mrs. Stan. 
Pray, Sir, departed; the Princess fears your stay.  Richmond. 
O! who from Heaven, and Her would haste away?  Exeunt.  

SCEN. VIII.  [The Scene is changed to the King's Lodging. [The Curtain is let down.] Enter Catesby, and Ratclife at one of the Doors before the Curtain. Catesby. 
You waited the first Watch; did the King rest?  Ratclife. 
His Bosom lodgeth an unquiet Guest.  Catesby. 
During the second watch, I tended him;  
He often walked in Sleep, guided by Dream.  Enter Lovel at the other Door before the Curtain. 
Who are you? Stand: this is forbidden Ground.  Lovel. 
A friend,  Lovel. Ratclife. 
O! he has walked the Round.  Lovel. Ratclife, 
I left the King much discomposed,  
His Mind still waking, though his Eyes were closed.  
How is he now?  Ratclife. 
He starts; then calls on those,  
Who with more quiet in their Graves repose:  
This, when I watched, I did with Horror see.  Lovel. 
This does with what I saw too well agree.  
When he sleeps best his Cares seem all awake:  
Ill-boding Fate does these disquiets make!  Catseby. 
He dreams; is that so strange? you seem to me  
By your Concern to dream as much, as he.  
Can his crude Fumes of ill concocted meat  
Such womens' Fears in men of Arms beget?  
These apprehensions misbecome that Night,  
Whose following Day must be employed in Fight.  Lovel. 
Your Admonitions, Sir, you may forbear;  
Our care is more, than yours, but not our Fear.  
He cried, Prince Edward's killed; then he did groan  
For the like Murder on the Father done.  
Then mentioned Clarence, River's, Vaughan, Grey,  
And called them his Ambition's bloody Prey.  
Next his late Queen, Hastings, and Buckingham,  
And last of all he did his Nephew's name.  
Then he awaked, and starting from his Couch,  
Bade me depart, and not till called, approach.  Catesby. 
My Lord, this only shows his Active Mind,  
Which with his outward Parts Sleep cannot bind.  
His Restlessness does all our Quiet bring:  
Happy are Subjects of a watchful King!  Lovel. 
Perhaps such Dreams may not deserve our Fears;  
Yet Dreams sometimes are Fates ill Messengers.  
But Midnight is now past; and Nature may  
Need rest to bear the Labour of the Day.   

SCENA IX.  The Curtain is opened. The King appears in a distracted posture, newly risen from his Bed, walking in his Dream with a dagger in his hand, and surrounded by the Ghosts of those whom he had formerly killed. King. 
Forrest! Rogue, Traitor! can thy Coward hands  
Tremble, and falter, when thy King commands?  
They are not dead; they walk, they threaten me:  
Dispatch; Kill them again, or I'll kill thee.  
Varlet, make haste; Go poison, strangle, drown  
My Brother, Nephews, Wife, to save my Crown.  
Small Victims may less Deities become;  
To Sovereign Power belongs a Hecatome.  
My Breath shall raise a Storm, my Hand a Flood,  
And make this Isle float in a Sea of Blood.  
Ha! Ghosts? there are no Ghosts, nor ever were,  
But in the Tales of Priests, or womens' Fear.  
If you be Ghosts, to your dark Mansions go:  
If you be Ghosts, 'twas I that made you so.  
I of your Substance these pale Nothings made;  
How dare you then your Conqueror invade?  
Go home, dark Vagabonds! must I not have  
Rest in my Bed, nor you Rest in your Grave?  
What Magic can Night-Vapours thus condense  
To Forms, which cheat, and terrify the Sense?  
Saint Henry! get thee hence to thy cold Bed;  
So tame, alive? so fierce, now thou art Dead?  
A holy King did not the Throne become;  
Thy Godliness prepared thee for a Tomb.  
I did from Tewksbery dispatch thy Heir,  
In the next World to be thy Harbinger:  
Would you have stayed behind, when he was gone?  
A Father ought not to outlive his Son.  
Ha! Brother? Wife? Stand off! No ties of Blood  
Are by aspiring Monarchs understood:  
They to secure my Crown did Life resign;  
She in a Cup, he in a Butt of Wine.  
Peace, Conscience! I long since have conquered thee:  
Yet still thou art disposed to Mutiny.  
Oft have I pared thy Branches; but thy Root  
Does lie so deep, I cannot tear it out.  
Of Sovereign Power it is the only Curse,  
To be Successful, and then feel Remorse.  The Curtain falls.   


ACTUS V. SCEN. PRIMA.  Enter Ld Stanley, Sir Will. Stanley, Servant. Ld Stanley. 
O Tyrant Honour! why dost thou impose  
A Law, which that of Nature overthrows?  
Heaven does my Virtue too severely try,  
When to save others, my own Son must die.  Sir W. Stanley. 
For common service common Minds suffice;  
Heaven tries the Great by great Extremities.  
Honour's hard Tasks are only fit for you;  
Who must subdue your Foes, and Nature too.  Ld Stanley. 
Brother, I know the Duty, which my Blood  
To Nature, and to Honour must make good:  
And in their Civil War I shall not make  
A long dispute, which side I ought to take:  
Nor shall my Sorrows their just Bounds exceed;  
I'll grieve for Nature, but for Honour bleed.  Sir W. Stan. 
The same high Thoughts you to your Son transfer;  
In whose green age ripe Honour does appear:  
His Courage does the Tyrant's Rage defy;  
All his Fear is, lest he should tamely die:  
And, when he must receive the Fatal Blow,  
He would his Valour, not his Patience show.  Ld Stanley. 
He must no Actor, but a Sufferer be;  
And quietly submit to Heaven's decree.  Sir W. Stanley. 
His generous thoughts a high attempt contrive,  
Which after Death may keep his Fame alive;  
For he would give the World, when he must die,  
Exemplar Courage for a Legacy.  Ld Stanley. 
Alas! we can expect no great Success  
From his weak Age, and from his Conduct less.  Sir W. Stanley. 
He has not weakly laid his great Design,  
For, when the Armies shall in Battle join,  
The Field will drain the Quarters; and then he  
Hopes, that his Sword may set the Princess free:  
For the remaining Guards will be intent  
On their own safety and the War's Event.  L. Stanley. 
That Enterprise will need a stronger Hand,  
And Head, then his, to act, and give Command.  Sir W. Stanley. 
I with a Party in disguise have sent  
A Leader, who his rashness may prevent.  L. Stanley. 
May he succeed! but Brother, now with care  
We must our business in the Field prepare.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Your Army I have placed in such a Line,  
That they with either Camp may easily join;  
And to amuse the Tyrant, from that side,  
Where Richmond lies, strong Trenches both divide.  L. Stanley. 
'Tis well designed: For, if we should declare  
By early Deeds, what our Intentions are,  
Before the Fight to Heat, and Tumult grows,  
We rashly should our dearest Pledges lose.  Sir W. Stan. 
This is most true.  L. Stan. 
When we engage, your Wing  
Must to our Richmond timely Succour bring.  Sir Wil Stan. 
The Tyrant's Batteries are all pointed there.  L. Stanley. 
And I will charge brave Norfolk in the Rear.  Sir Wil Stanley. 
I shall your Orders punctually obey.  L. Stan. 
Our Army wants our presence; let's away.  [Ex. L. Stan. S. W. Stan. 
Where are those Arms? Ser. Here Sir. S. W. Stan. without delay  
Those to my Tent, this to young Strange convey.  Delivers a Letter. Ex. Ser. 
Richmond! In happy Love thou conquer'st me,  
But I in Glory will outrival thee:  
Dressed in thy Shape I will thy Mistress woo;  
And, whilst I court thy danger, court her too.  
Strange Charm of Love! Must I my Life employ  
For him, who does my Happiness destroy?  
I only am unjust, Poor Strange! to thee;  
For all thy Danger should belong to me:  
And yet a nobler Cause cannot engage  
Thy blooming Valour at thy tender Age.  
He is most happy, who her Love obtains,  
But he, who dies for her, more Glory gains.  [Exit Sir W. Stan.  

SCEN. II.  [The Scene is changed to the Princess Lodgings.] Enter Charlot. Charlot. 
If my great Rival die, why from her Grave  
May not my Love a Resurrection have?  
No, no! Him, whom I love I so will serve,  
That what I can't enjoy, I may deserve.  
For him none shall do more, nor more endure;  
I'll lose myself, my Rival to secure.  Enter Princess. 
Charlot, farewell: my Guards now surly grow,  
And nearer wait, which Death's approach does show.  Charlot. 
Madam, you must not die; For yet we may  
The Tyrant's hasty Cruelties delay.  
Let us exchange our habits; In your room  
I'll plant myself, and intercept your Doom.  Princess. 
Ah Boy! how strange a Love dost thou express?  
I'll never ruin thee by my release.  Charlot. 
Madam, I charge you by the powerful Name  
Of your great Lover, and your mutual Flame,  
To take my Life's Oblation, and allow,  
What I to you, and to your Richmond vow.  
I am resolved, though you my Suit deny,  
Not to outlive the Minute, when you die.  
And, since I this have vowed, let me not spend  
My Life in vain, which may your Life defend.  
Undress you, Madam, and prepare to fly.  Princess. 
Fly? Your Example bids me stay, and die.  Charlot. 
To ease the Ship in Storms, what Freight is first  
Thrown over Board, the choicest, or the worst?  Princess. 
This question puts a Period to our strife;  
It bids me Honour save, and lose my Life.  Charlot. 
Madam, you build on a mistaken ground;  
Reason must Honour's darker Loves expound:  
Subjects, who for their Prince themselves undo,  
In the most glorious way their Duty show:  
But Princes, in whose Life the Public lives,  
Should save what Heaven for Public safety gives.  Princess. 
Who can the Brightness of thy Virtue doubt?  
And when it shines so clear, would put it out?  Charlot. 
Less will my Danger be, then yours, when I  
Am seized for you; For you, when seized, must die:  
But, when the Murderers find a Stranger, they  
Will pause awhile, and for new Orders stay.  
Then the Field gained may make us both secure.  Princess. 
But, Charlot, in what place can I be sure  
Of safety, when my Shape I change for yours?  Charlot. 
The Neighbouring Cloister will for some few hours  
(I having newly gained the Abbess) be  
Your Refuge, till your Champion sets you free.  Princess. 
Thy Kindness and thy Reasons conquer me;  
And yet too much I hazard, venturing thee!  Charlot. 
Waste not your time in scruples; Pray, be gone:  
Our work must end before the Fight's begun.  Exeunt.  

SCENA III.  Enter Ld Strange, Mrs. Stanley. Mrs. Stanley. 
Nephew, your hasty Courage I must chide;  Ld Strange holds a letter open in his hand. 
This letter now must all your Actions guide.  Strange. 
Delays increase the Hazard, we would shun:  
By swift Dispatch our Danger we outrun.  Mrs. Stanley. 
Hasty Beginnings halt before they end.  Strange. 
But does the Princess know, what we intent?  Mrs. Stanley. 
Should I this Enterprise to her disclose,  
She might in Honour Scruples interpose.  Strange. 
Must she be saved against her own Consent,  
Lest, knowing it, she should the means prevent?  Mrs. Stanley. 
But to conceal it, is the safest way.  
Think, how her Person you may best convey;  
Whilst I the Abbess speedily prepare,  
To take the Kingdom's Pledge into her Care.  
And, pray, be watchful lest the searching Eye  
Of Catesby should our Enterprise descry.  
The Captain, whom my Brother sent, you must  
With all the Conduct of this Business trust.  Strange. 
With you the dull, and slow are only Wise;  
The Phlegm of so much Caution I despise.  Mrs. Stan. 
Your own distempered Heat does judge him Cold;  
For you are more too Young, than he too Old.  [Enter Captain. Cap. 
My Lord, the Armies are engaged; and now  
You may your Ardour in your Actions show.  
Whilst Stanly's Name does in the Field afford  
Originals to lengthen Fame's Record,  
Your growing Valour here in narrower space  
May living Copies of their Glory trace.  Strange. 
Captain, you have restored my Liberty;  
And now my Freedom shall the Princess free.  Mrs. Stanley. 
May thy brave Courage with success be blessed;  
Whilst I prepare to lodge our Royal Guest.  [Exeunt several ways.  

SCEN. IU.  Enter Catesby, Forrest, Lieutenant and Soldiers. Catesby. 
The King has made you his great Confident;  
And now your Fortune may your Hopes prevent.  
When you receive the Sign, strike quick, and sure.  Forrest. 
Give but the Word, and think the Deed secure.  
The little Worm, called Conscience, wants a sting:  
Hell may be feigned; I'm certain of the King.  
And, since his mind is known, what need we stay.  
For tedious Orders?  Catesby. 
Hold; you must obey  
The Rules prescribed; and watchfully attend,  
Till I your Orders from the Army send.  [Exit Catesby. Leiutenant. 
Good Master Captain, teach your old Cam'rade  
The fine new knack to be a Captain made.  
None, by your Worship's leave, could ever see  
Your bashful Valour face an Enemy.  Forrest. 
My Courage by the King is known and tried.  Lieutenant. 
King's may know more than all the World beside.  
You can show Bruises of your Tavern-Wars;  
And turn the Ale-wifes' Scratches into Scars.  Forrest. 
Lieutenant, you will halt in your Career,  
When Neck, and Heels shall feel your Officer.  
Were it not for the business now in hand—  Lieutenant. 
You would do much! I should not idle stand.  
Go, go, complain; that I may be cashiered;  
I'd rather starve, then be thus Officered.  Forrest. 
Stand.  The Princess in Charlot's attire crosseth the Stage with her Handkerchief before her Eyes, as if she were weeping.] Lieutenant. 
'Tis the Lady's Page.  Forrest. 
Then let him pass.  
Poor Rogue! he shortly will be turned to Grass.  Lieutenant. 
Must all the Princess Family disband?  Forrest. 
When the Tree falls, how can the Ivy stand?  A noise of Swords in the Princess Lodgings. 
Swords in the Princess lodgings! quickly go,  
And see how matters pass.  Lieutenant. 
You must come too:  
When danger calls, you send your Messenger.  
A Pox on those, that cannot hide their fear!  [He thrusts Forest in before him.  

SCEN. V.  Enter Queen. Queen. 
Heaven! If my Child must not your mercy find,  
Let me, when she departs, not stay behind!  
I can endure no more: The hand of Fate  
On tir'd-out Nature lays too great a Weight.  Enter Lord Strange leading Charlot in the Princess dress. L. Strange. 
Now, Madam, pray look up: trust your own Eyes:  To Charlot supposed to be the Princess. 
Your Servants guard you, not your Enemies.  
Madam, you come in a most happy hour;  To the Queen. 
To rule her Fears we need a Mother's Power.  Queen. 
I wonder not, that she's amazed; for I  
Mistrust my Sense in this Delivery.  
Come, Daughter, give my Eyes the Joy to see  
My dearest Captive set at liberty.  Charlot. 
ay, Madam, who your pleasure thus obey,  [Charlot unvails. 
Am not your Daughter; she's conveyed away:  
And you the means of her Escape may guests,  
When you behold me in my borrowed Dress:  
As mine abused our Friends, so her Disguise  
More happily deceived our Enemies.  Queen. 
Her absence does my former pain repeat,  
Ah! bring me to the place of her retreat.  Charlot. 
You'll find her at the Cloister fixed in Prayer:  
Heaven, and Religion now her Guardians are.  Strange. 
Charlot I little thought, I could by thee  
In this bold Rescue so transcended be.  
Madam, as faithful Guards, we shall attend  To the Queen. 
Your Person; and the Princess Life defend.  [Exeunt.  

SCEN. VI  The Scene is changed to Bosworth-Field. Enter King, Lovel, Ratclife, and Soldiers. Richmond's Standard taken by the King is carried in Triumph before him. King. 
Behold the Traitor's Standard! here we see,  
Heaven gives an earnest of full Victory.  Lovel. 
You the great Brandon●lew slew; you this have gained:  
We owe the day, Sir, to your single hand.  
No Monarch's story boasts so high a deed;  
As Kings all men surpass, you Kings exceed.  Ratclife. 
You all the glorious marks of Conquest wear,  
And greater, than yourself, this day appear.  
I saw stout Cheyny fall by your strong hand;  
That sturdy Oak could not your Thunder stand.  King. 
Richmond was next; I had him in my Eye;  
But he was sheltered by my Victory.  
Such heaps of Bodies did obstruct my way,  
That my own Conquest did my Conquest stay,  
And Richmond for the safety of his Head  
Owed less unto the Living, than the Dead.  [A Charge is sounded. Lovel. 
Hark! a fresh Charge they sound! these desperate men  
Rally their broken Force, to break again.  Enter Soldier. 
Treason, Sir, Treason! Stanly's false Brigade  
Have left your Colours, and our Men invade:  
Richmond in person leads them on; and all,  
That have opposed them, either fly, or fall.  King. 
Perfidious Slaves! Ratclife, without delay  
These Fatal Rings to Catesby's hands convey.  
I'll blast the Fruit of all their Victory:  
Strange, and the Princess shall together die.  
Come; show me Richmond: for I'll break through all  [To the Sould. 
His Guards, and crush the Traitor with my fall.  [Exit King, etc. Enter King, and Sir W. Stan. habited like Richmond at several doors. King. 
Ha! is it he? now Fortune, thou art kind!  Sir W. Stanley. 
Enjoy your wish; For Richmond here you find.  
Come, Sir, dispatch this work the shortest way:  
Our single hands will best decide the day.  King. 
Agreed: of all my Stars I ask no more!  
Thou art the only Saint, whom I implore.  [kissing his Sword. They fight. Enter Rich. 
What Vision's this, which does abuse my eye?  [with Soldier. Richmond interposeth. 
Have I a Ghost, that walks before I die?  
Who ere thou art (bold Champion) show thy Face:  
Thou dost usurp my Person, and my place.  King. 
The Dragon's Teeth are sown in Bosworth Field,  
Which does a Harvest of armed Richmond's yield!  [Sir William Stanley pulls up the Vizour of his Helmet. Rich. 
Sir William Stanley!  King. 
Traitor! thy false heart  
Shall taste my vengeance.  Richmond. 
Hold, Sir; let my part  
Be acted first: you needs must know this Face:  
The Shadow to the substance must give place.  Sir W. Stan. 
Great Sir, the Law of Arms proclaims my right;  
My Sword began it, and must end the Fight.  Richmond. 
Not a word more; or I shall look on you,  
As on the worst Usurper of the two.  King. 
End your contention: both employed shall be.  Rich. 
This Sword, and Justice otherwise decree.  [They fight. 
How great thy Fame had been, hadst thou been good!  [the King falls. 
Pursue the flying; but spare English Blood.  Ex. Sould. in pursuit. King. 
Fate! art thou just? what Crime is laid on me,  
But the resemblace of thy Tyranny?  
Since I must lose my Throne, I only crave,  
That nothing may be found beyond the Grave.  [dies. Rich. 
Remove the Corpse. Heaven, thou art just, and good!  
So Tyrants rise, and so they fall in Blood.  
My gallant likeness, you must now reveal  
The cause of this extravagance of Zeal.  Sir W. Stan. 
Great Sir, I took your shape, because I knew,  
The Tyrant's Rage did chiefly aim at you.  
My Loyal care made me ambitious grow  
To rob you of your danger, and your Foe.  Richmond. 
My Person you in Fight so well became,  
That, what was like, I wish, had been the same.  Enter Oxford. 
Sir, all the business of the War is done:  
The Living and the Dead your Conquest own:  
The yielding Foe makes useless all our Swords,  
And for your Mercy only work affords.  Richmond. 
My Lord, when we are Dust, our Race will know,  
How much this Day I to your Conduct owe:  
The Name of Vere to me, and mine shall be  
As high in Honour, as in Loyalty.  [Enter Lord Stanley. 
O, my dear Friend! must I rejoice, or grieve  
In this great Triumph? does the Princess live?  Ld Stanley. 
Sir, she does live; and her past dangers prove  
The glorious Marks, and Trophies of her Love:  
Her faithful Page has all our Zeal outdone,  
And to redeem her Life, exposed his own:  
My George his high Intentions did express;  
But only Charlot's Courage had Success.  Richmond. 
Heaven can my Joys no farther now improve,  
Since I am blessed in Conquest, and in Love.  
My faithful Stanley, I shall need your care  
To prosecute the Business of the War:  
For I, my Lords, no longer can forbear  
To see her free, whose glorious Chains I wear.  [Exeunt omnes. The Scene is changed to the Cloister, where the Princess was retired.  

SCEN. VII▪  Enter Lord Strange, Charlot. Ld Strange. 
Charlot, such Faith, and Courage joined in you  
Deserved to finish what I aimed to do.  Charlot. 
My Lord, th' Event of my Design should be  
Justly ascribed to Fortune, not to me.  Strange. 
Thy modesty does but increase thy Glory,  
And leaves to future Age an useful Story.  Charlot. 
What I have done deserves no memory;  
I little did, because I did not die▪  
And now, my Lord, it were my happiest Lot,  
If I by all the World might be forgot.  Stran. 
What means these words? Would you the world forsake,  
When your brave Deed does it so Happy make?  
Foul Crimes have made their Authors desperate:  
But can the Good, and Prosperous their Lives hate?  
Your Life's my Gift; Dispose not of my Due;  
For, as you saved the Princess, I saved you.  Charlot. 
You did defeat me in my Souls chief Aim  
Of leaving Life with a reprochless Name.  Strange. 
Some hidden Mystery lies folded here!  
But hark! the glorious Richmond does draw near.  [The Trumpets sound. Charlot. 
What shall I do? my shame will open lie  [too himself. 
To all the World, and to a Parent's Eye.  
In these Extremes what can my Honour save?  
Relieve me, Heaven! or hide me in a Grave!   

SCEN. VIII.  Enter Earl of Richmond, Oxford, Chandew, and Attendants. Richmond. 
To Strange.] George, thou art now unpawned; thy courage shown  
In our Concern speaks thee a Stanly's Son.  
My dearest Boy, rise up: thy Actions may  [To Charlot. 
Dispute with mine the Glory of the Day.  
'Twould make a Monarch Bankrupt to bestow  
That just Reward, which to thy Faith I owe.  Chandew. 
To himself.] What do my Eyes behold? It must be she;  
And her Disguise reveals her Infamy.  Richmond. 
To Charlot.] Why speak'st thou not? when all the World's become  
So loud in praising thee, canst thou be dumb?  Chandew. 
Must she needs choose the most Conspicuous Place  
Of the whole Earth, to blazon my Disgrace?  Richmond. 
What sudden damp does on thy spirits seize?  Chandew. 
To himself.] Death of my Honour, and my Souls Disease!  
Thou art a Blot upon my Name, which I  
Will raze out with thy Life.  Oxford. 
Sir I descry  
A strange transport in my Lord Chandew too.  Richmond. 
What Mysteries are these? my Lord, are you  
Concerned in that brave Youth?  Chandew. 
Sir 'tis a Stray;  
From my Enclosures it has broke away.—  Richmond. 
My Lord, be well advised: if you would gain  
My Credit, and our former Love maintain,  
Reproach him not.  Chandew. 
I cannot much delight,  
To bring that Creatures shame to public sight:  
But, Sir, in equal Justice you will give  
To the right Owner's hands a Fugitive.  Richmond. 
You must not your displeasure thus express,  
If you expect, I shall my Claim release.  
Charlot kneeling to my Ld Chandew.] Sir, I am yours; and have deserved your Hate:  
O, let my Death end this unkind debate!  
Take me, and take my Life; for 'tis your due  
First, as your Gift, and now by forfeit too.  Chandew. 
Since thou hast murdered thy whole Family  [Offering to kill Charlot. 
In their best Life (their Honour) thou shalt die.  Rich. 
Hold Chandew, hold. What means this furious Heat?  
In which you both yourself, and me forget.  
'Tis well, your merit weighs my anger down.  Chandew. 
Pardon my Passion thus unruly grown:  
It did my strength of Reason quite subdue.  Rich. 
More, than my Pardon does belong to you.  
But I am wracked with Doubts: Rise, Boy, and free  
My tortured Thoughts from this Perplexity.  Charlot. 
O Sir; if I must here my Sins confess,  
This Posture most becomes my Guiltiness:  
And I this low submission doubly owe  
In presence of my Prince, and Father too.  Rich. 
My Lord, are you his Father?  Chandew. 
Sir, that Name  
Turns my whole Life to Sorrow, and to Shame.  Rich. 
Rather to Glory, and to Happiness;  
A better Son cannot a Parent bless.  Oxford. 
Sir, I perceive, where all our Error lies;  
Charlot, supposed his Son, his Daughter is.  Rich. 
I am oppressed with Wonder! Charlot, rise:  
Whilst thy disputed Sex deludes our eyes,  
Thou dost to me a Guardian Angel seem,  
Which did the Princess sacred Life redeem.   

SCEN. IX.  Enter Queen, Princess, and Attendants. Rich. 
Madam, at last Propitious Heaven affords  
Success to the Endeavour of our Swords.  
We at your Royal Feet our Persons lay,  
And all the mighty Trophies of the Day.  Princess. 
Sir, these Submissions must not come from you:  
No Homage from a Conqu'rer can be due.  
Your Laurel should in Justice be a Crown,  
For all by double Conquest is your own.  Rich. 
How gloriously your Servants you reward!  Princess. 
No, Sir; from that I am by Duty barred:  
A Parent's leave must first the Gift allow,  
Ere I the merited Reward bestow.  Richmond. 
To the Queen.] Swayed by my Love to her, whom you love best▪  
I have unduly my Respects addressed;  
This Madam, for her sake, you'll not reprove:  
All Laws of Ceremony yield to Love.  Queen. 
What you oblige me in, needs no Excuse:  
And, Sir, I were unjust, should I refuse  
My vote to such a Public Happiness.  
May all the Powers above this Union bless!  
Richmond to the Queen. To the Prin.] I must with humble adoration kiss  
The Hand, which does confer so high a bliss.  
Now, Madam, what say you?  Princess. 
I must obey.  Rich. 
Succeeding Times shall magnify this Day,  
Whose Fruitful Joys shall flow to distant Age,  
And rescue Nations from Rebellious Rage.  
But, Madam, in this Public Jubilee  
Charlot's Concerns must not neglected be:  
This Favourite to us both does newly find  
A Noble Father in my greatest Friend;  
And (what is yet more strange) that Father's Eye  
Does here a Daughter, not a Son descry.  Princess. 
I'm lost in wonder: but what ere he be▪  
No Sex can equal his great Loyalty.  
Now Charlot, ease my Mind, which longs to know  
The secret Cause, whence all these Wonders flow.  Charlot. 
Can any thing, but Love, such Wonders do,  
As have disguised the Soul, and Body too?  
Madam, I drunk my Poison when my Eye  
Did first his Image, whom you love, descry.  
I was too young to weigh, how far above  
The level of my Birth I raised my love.  
My wounded Heart in Bretany first bled;  
And, when our Exile thence to Paris fled,  
Leaving my Home, my Parents, and my Shape,  
To follow him I made a bold Escape:  
And to his Service I soon gained access,  
Helped by Industrious Love, and this feigned dress.  Princess. 
Charlot, no History shall ever show  
So brave a Rival, and so kind a Foe.  
Pity, and Envy both attend thy Fate;  
Thou art more Generous, I more Fortunate.  Richmond. 
Ah, gentle Charlot! in a high degree  
Thou hast at once obliged, and punished me:  
The Torment of great minds I undergo,  
Paying so little, where so much I owe.  Strange. 
Sir, I want Merit; but your Goodness may  
For Service yet to come advance my pay:  
Grant me your Favour in my great design  
Of off my Devotions at this Shrine.  
I long have known her, and with envious Eyes  
Have seen above my own her Virtue rise:  
But, Madam, now a double change we find;  [To Charlot. 
For your Sex altered has transformed my Mind:  
My Jealousy grows Love; and what before  
With Envy I beheld, I now adore.  Richmond. 
Thy Passion makes me happy; and I know,  
Your Father's Judgement will this choice allow.  
Her Fortune, as her Birth, shall equal you:  
Who marries her, marries our Favour too.  
Chandew, I hope, that in this happy Bride,  
Your scrup'lous Honour now is satisfied.  Chandew. 
Not only satisfied, but much increased;  
Where I unhappy was, I now am blessed.  Charlot. 
How much must I to such Indulgence owe,  
As on the Guilty does Reward bestow?  
But, Sir, no Power can former Vows release▪  
Which bar me from this proffered happiness.  
Ambitious Flames will ever upwards tend;  
They may their Object lose, but ne'er descend.  
Mine still shall rise, and in a Cloister choose  
The lasting Love of an Immortal Spouse.  Strange. 
Ah! leave us not: Heaven wants you less, than we.  Princess. 
Virtue will leave that Land, which loseth thee.  Charlot. 
All Virtue stays, when you are left behind.  
Madam, in vain you urge my settled Mind.   

SCEN. X.  Enter L. Stanley. L. Stanley. 
The Field does want you, Sir; The Soldiers call  
With loud Impatience for their General.  
In this days Booty they the Crown have found;  
And all cry out, that Richmond must be crowned.  Richmond. 
My Lord, they should their duty better know;  
For common Hands must not the Crown bestow.  L. Stanley. 
High swelling Torrents you as soon may suage,  
As stop the Current of their Loyal Rage.  Princess. 
Come, Sir, these Mutineers I long to see;  
For I must join in the Conspiracy.  Richmond. 
He, Madam, who to you has raised his aim,  
To more, than Crowns, and Sceptres lays a Claim.  [Enter Sir William Stanley bringing the Crown, with Officers and Soldiers in a Military Pomp.] Sir W. Stanley. 
Behold the noblest Spoil of Bosworth Field!  
This is the Fruit which now your Laurels yield.  Richmond. 
To this great Trophy, Madam, you are born,  
Which by a Royal Beauty must be worn.  Princess. 
The Crown is yours, because in Battle found;  
And, Sir, as Conqueror you must be crowned.  Richmond. 
By right of Conquest it belongs to you;  
For you did first the Conqueror subdue.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, pray order my obedient hand,  
Which waits to place it by your high Command.  Princess. 
Come Sir; you must submit to this great Weight,  [The Princess, and Sir William Stanley. put the Crown on the Earl of Richmond's Head. The People cry, Long live King Henry the 7. 
Imposed by us and by the Hand of Fate.  King Henry 7th. 
Since Madam I must yield to wear the Crown,  
By this Submission I your Title own.  
I wear it, as a public Mark to show  
My Power to these, my Fealty to you.  Sir W. Stanley. 
To the Princess.] Richard is slain, Richmond is crowned: and now  
I have performed the chiefest of my Vow.  
I shall hereafter only Glory woo,  
And all that Glory place in serving you.  Princess. 
That your great Merit recompensed may be,  
I give you all, that's undisposed of me:  
This seems a Gift, but it does substance want;  
All was conveyed by a preceding Grant.  Sir W. Stanley. 
Madam, did not the fullness of your Joys  
The weight of my afflictions counterpoise,  
I should in all the Triumphs, which adorn  
Our shining Conquest, be condemned to mourn.  
My misery with other's Joy begins,  
Losing as much, as mighty Richmond wins.  Princess. 
In Honour nobly gained the Generous mind  
Does all the Charms of Love, and Empire find.  K. Hen. 7th. 
Were I not safe both in myself, and Her,  
Stanley, thy dangerous merit I should fear;  
Yet such a Rival no distrust can move,  
Who did usurp my danger, not my Love.  Princess. 
His Sister's merits too must be confessed,  
Whose Faith shined out, when I was most distressed.  [Enter Prior with his Companions. Priour. 
The Church with Hymns answers the People's voice:  
Both Heaven and Earth at your success rejoice.  
I have a Blessing from the Clergy brought,  
Who prayed with no less ardour than you fought.  K. Hen. 7. 
We scarce have subject left for farther Prayer;  
Our Wishes by our Joys exhausted are.  
Nor will Heaven's Bounty in our Persons end;  
On all our Race these Blessings shall descend.  
FINIS▪    

EPILOGUE.  
RIchard is dead; and now begins your Reign:  
Let not the Tyrant live in you again.  
For though one Tyrant be a Nation's Curse,  
Yet Commonwealths of Tyrants are much worse:  
Their Name is Legion; And a Rump (you know)  
In Cruelty all Richards does outgo.  
First then by Acts of Grace your Power declare:  
Newly installed, all Princes gracious are;  
All lesser Crimes within their Pardon fall;  
And Poet's Sins are not held Capital.  
For your own sake you must some Mercy show:  
Act not the Tyrant's Part, lest we act you.  
A formal Critic with his wise Grimace  
Will on the Stage appear with no ill grace:  
Most of that Trade in this Censorious Age  
Have little of the Poet, but his Rage:  
Perhaps old Johnson's Gall may fill their Pen;  
But where's the judgement, and the Salt of Ben?  
Yet for himself our Author does declare  
All that sit here, his Lawful judges are:  
For 'tis but just, that in our lawless days,  
Since all Men write, all Men should judge of Plays.