King John AND MATILDA, A TRAGEDY. As it was Acted with great Applause by her majesty's Servants at the cockpit in Drury-lane.  
Written by ROBERT DAVENPORT Gent.  
LONDON, Printed for Andrew Pennycuicke, in the Year 1655.   

The Names of the Persons in the Play, And of the Actors that first Acted it on the Stage, and often before their Majesties.  
King John, 
M. Bowyer.  Fitzwater, 
M. Perkins Whose action gave Grace to the Play.  Old Lord Bruce, 
M. Turner.  Young Bruce, 
M. Sumner.  Chester, 
M. Jackson.  Oxford, 
M. Goat.  Leicester, 
M. Young.  Hubert, 
M. Clarke.  Pandolph, 
M. Allen.  Brand, 
M. Shirelock, who performed excellently well.   

Other Lords and Gentlemen, Attendants on the King.  
Queen Isabel.  
Matilda.  
Ladies of honour.  
Lady abbess.    

To the knowing Reader.  
A Good Reader, helps to make a Book; a bad injuries it: The Author of this, had no mind to be a man in Print; nor took he any care for a Sculpture, to illustrate the frontispiece by crowning himself with Laurel: Neither did he write his own Encomiums, and( to prejudicate the simple) say his friends forced them upon him; they may help to sell the Book, not better the Matter. And since this Tragedy is come to tell its own tale, and to speak for itself, he will he glad to know it able to ca●ry its own commendation; And( being an Infant, newly delivered to the world from the womb of the Press) he hopes the knowing Reader will rather Crown it by his candour, then kill it in the Cradle.  
R. D.   

To the Right Honourable, Montague Berty, Earl of Lindsey, Lord Willougbby to Eresby &c.  
YOu are no stranger to things of this nature, and therefore the Dedication will not startle you; such there are( my Lord) whose souls are confined to their chink, and these look squint-eyed upon a Dedication, because they fear there is a Spirit in't will separate them: But my Lord, your nobleness to learning, and wit raiseth your estimate to so high an account among knowing men, thi● from thence I have derived this boldness, which I hope is pardonable not only for that your justice calls upon me for a duty I long since owed your Honour, but also in regard the Thing presented is no slight Piece, but such( my Lord) at I presume will accord with your judgement and liking: It past the Stage with general Applause( my self being the last that that Acted Matilda in it) and since through the absurdity of times, it hath lain obscured. My Lord, though it doth not appear in it's ancient and full glory, yet it comes dressed; first, with an humble regard to your Honour, and then a confidence of its naked worth, but both it and myself, are willingly subjected unto your honour's sentence, which I hope will not be too heavy, especially upon  
My Lord, Your honour's Honourer, Andrew Pennycuicke.   
King John AND Matilda.  

Actus 1. Scoena 1.  Enter King, Queen, and Oxford. King 
THey will not come?  Ox. 
They will not.  King 
They had been better—  
What was their answer?  Ox. 
Thus said Fitzwater, father of the faction,  
That was general for the Barons against your majesty:  
Tell John,  Ki. 
John!  Ox. 
That was his epithet;  
( Alleging how you stood at Rome, put from  
Your Kingly office.) Tell John, quoth he,( and frowned)  
That here at Baynard's Castle, we intend  
A settled stay for private reformations.  
Of conceived injuries, which by the peace  
The King made with us, were not throughly searched,  
But like green wounds, closed with too swift a salve,  
( Upon your private ends) are with more danger  
Doubts and distracted difficulties again  
Broke forth; but having drawn them to a head,  
They would send them to you to be ratified,  
And then give their attendance.  King. 
This is brave;  
Who was there else?  Ox. 
Richmond, imperious Leicester, and old Bruce.  
( The second in this revolt,) who sent the same return.  K. 
A●nest of Rebels; to try the truth of these fine flourishes,  
You with Lord Mowbray, post unto Guilford,  
And being there,( pretending a visit unto Bruces Lady,)  
Wind into observation of the Castle so from her,  
( The engine upon which these factions move,)  
Discover the intent of their designs.  Queen. 
Sure sir, the Lady is noble; but your majesty's  
Injunction shall be obeyed.  Exit. Enter Chester. K. 
This not only advantages  
Our meeting with Fitzwater's Daughter,  
( O how the thought) startles my blood)  
But likewise furthers our resolved proceedings:  
Chester the news?  Chest. 
Conceal yourself sir,  
I have trapped her with a snare.  K. 
Again, than I shall see he●—  Exit. Enter Matilda. Ma. 
You told me Chester  
That the Queen did earnestly request my attendance:  
You said she was here i'th' Garden,  
But it seems you were misinformed.  Ches. 
Excellent innocence how art thou trapped!  
I must attend the King; please you walk Madam  
But towards the Grove, I was told the Queen and Ladies  
Retired there for shade.  Mat. 
I shall,  Ches. 
And I must vanish  Exit Chest. Ent. King. Mat. 
Oh heaven, the King!  K. 
Thy friend.  Mat. 
False Chester!  K. 
Fair Matilda,  
Mistress of youth and beauty, sweet as a spring,  
And comely as the holy shining Priest  
Decked in his glorious sacerdotal vestment;  
Yet hear the passions of a love sick Prince,  
And crown thy too too cruel heart with pity.  Mat. 
Yet let fall your too too passionate plea●ings,  
And crown your royal heart with excellent reason.  K. 
Hear me.  Mat. 
The Queen will hear you.  K. 
Speak but a word that—  Mat. 
What?  K. 
That may sound like something,  
That may but busy my strong labouring heart,  
With hope that thou wilt grant, and every morning  
I will walk forth and watch the early Lark,  
And at her sweetest note I will protest,  
Matilda spoke a word was like that note.  Mat. 
Oh how you tempt: remember pray your vows  
To my betrothed Earl Robert Huntington;  
Did you not wish just as the poison touched  
His manly heart, i● ever you again  
Laid battery to the fair fort of my unvanquished  
Virtue, your death might be like his untimely,  
And be poisoned. Oh take heed sir,  
Saints stand upon heaven's silver battlements,  
When Kings make vows, and lay their  
Listening ears to Prince's Protestations.  K. 
So did Matilda swear to live and die a maid,  
At which fair Nature like a Snail shrunk back,  
As loath to hear from one so fair, so foul  
A wound: my vow was vain, made without  
Recollection of my reason; and yours, Oh madness!  
Maids have sure forsworn such vows:  
For Huntington, he like a heap of summer's  
Dust into his Grave is swept; and bad vows  
Still are better broke then kept.  Mat. 
Alas great sir, your Queen you cannot make me;  
What is it then instructs your tongue? Oh sir!  
In things not right,  
Lust is but loves well languaged hypocrite.  K. 
Words shall convert to deeds then; I am the King.  Mat. 
Do but touch me,  
And as I grasp steel in my trembling hand,  Offers violence, she draws a knife. 
So sure the King shall see Matilda fall  
A sacrifice to virtue.  K. 
Cruel Maid,  
Crueler than the Kid that eanes her young  
On the rough bosom of a ragged flint:  
Go get thee to the woods, for thou art wild  
As flame, or winter; where so ere thou walkest  
May wild winds chide thee, and the reeling Trees  
Like a confused fall of many waters  
Rail on thy rudeness; may the birds that build  
Among the wanton branches, stead of teaching  
Notes to their young, sing something like thy niceness:  
And lastly, may the Brooks when thou shalt lie  
And cast a pair of cruel busy eyes  
Upon their subtle slidings, may the water,  
The troubled image of my passions war  
With the stones, the matter of thy heart, that thou Mayst learn  
Thy hardness and my sufferings to discern;  
And so whilst I( if it be possible) study to forget you,  
May beasts, and bird●, and brooks, and trees, and wind,  
Hear me, and call Matilda too unkind.  Exit. Mat. 
I'll unto Baynard's Castle to my father,  
Oh she had a violent need of Castles, where a King  
Lays such violent siege; but Oh truth,  
Thou art( whilst tenant in a noble breast,)  
A crown of crystal in an Ivory chest.  Exit. Enter King and Chester. K. 
Shall I be dazzled with effeminate darings?  Ches. 
With a woman's ward, a knife too.  K. 
Here I left her.  Ch. 
But here she is not now sir.  K. 
Oh Chester run, run as thou lov'st my peace,  
Feather thy feet with lovers wishes, let but my desires  
Dwell in thy eyes, thou'lt find her, were she compassed  
With a Cimmerian mist.  Ch. 
I will do my best sir.  Exit. K. 
Thy best; do every thing, do any thing,  
Do all things that may find her; whether Love  
Leads thy dark Labyrinth; cannot Kings be free  
From thy impetuous buffets? I have de●●'d  
A hardened heart, obdurate to thy shafts,  
And some times am so, when in the very minute  
Calling to mind Matilda's tears, like drops  
Continued upon marble, they pierce through,  
And I am soft again. Hast found her?  Ent. Chester Ch. 
No sir, she is by this in Baynard's Castle,  
Where her Father and the Lords—  K. 
Command our Barge, we'll after her like lightning:  
We must have pledges Chester for their faiths; if they refuse,  
Thunder shall meet with thunder, and each eye  
Shall see strange Comets in this troubled sky.  Exeunt. Enter Fitzwater, old Bruise, young Bruise, Richmond and Leicester, as in Baynard's Castle. Fitz. 
My noble Lords, and honourable friends,  
Not to particularlize( what need plain dealing  
Be apparelled in particulars?) to a short supper,  
Or a poor pittance rather, ye are all  
Heartily welcome, very heartily, I must tell truth still.  O Br. 
Brother we thank you.  Eitz. 
I would we had my sister your wife, at Guilford with us.  Rich. 
Where are the Ladies?  Leis. 
Comfo●ting Matilda, sad returned from Court.  Y. Bru. 
Betrayed by Chester, and again escaped  
Like a chaste Dove out of the fowler's Net,  
The lustful King.  Fitz. 
Oh John, John, wilt thou never  
Leave thy wags tricks? but let it pass, 'tis best  
Because indeed 'tis past.  Leís. 
I wonder how he received our resolved answer.  Y B●u. 
No matter how, he's like to have no other;  
Now by my blood, you vexed my very soul  
That you s●nt any.  O. Bru. 
Son, have a tamer spirit.  Y Bru. 
Yes, and like horses,  
Be held byth' nose by frivolous respect,  
Whilst he casts Copperis into our sores, and searches  
Past honour's patience.  Fitz. 
Nephew, Nephew, hear me,  
Let's bear a little; faith he is the King,  
And though at Rome he does stand interdicted,  
Yet now and then takes a good start or two  
Towards regularity, till the fit comes on him;  
And for your neat horse simile observe me,  
Richmond and you are young men, we three old,  
But not too old to tell truth; the horse that will not  
Stand till and endure searching, how e'er in summer  
With warmth and pasture, he may strike at flies,  
And play the wanton in a wealthy meadow,  
For all his summer pastime, yet 'tis said,  
Winter will leave him but a lean scaled jade;  
Come, come, you're fools, you're fools.  Leis. 
Well let us— bear then.  Y Bru. 
●et us? Oh my blood!  
Besides, our injuries in his breach of promise,  
He made by stains and public grievances,  
How in the flames of his adulterate heart  
Pursues he my chaste Cousin, by flights gets her  
Within his talon, and but this afternoon,  
( Had not her friendly knife enfranchised her)  
Even in the face of he●ven, in his own Garden  
He would have ravished her.  O. Bru. 
Bro●her, we are bound in honour not to bear it.  Leis. 
Let him know our griefs, and if—  Fitz. 
Well, well, with iss and and's  
Mad men leave Rocks, and leap into the Sands;  
But something shall be thought on.  Ent. Richmond. Rich● 
The King attended  
Only with the Earl of Chester, Oxford, and some  
Other gentlemen, is new landed on the Stairs.  Om. 
The King!  Y Bru. 
Shut the stair's Gate.  Fitz. 
'Twere better Gate and stairs  
Were floating through bridge; we are safe my choleric cousin,  
As in a Sanctuary; 'tis enough  
( A man would think,) to see a great Prince thus,  
Cause we'd not go to him, to come to us,  Ent. King, Oxford, Chester. and other Lords 
Indeed, indeed, you speak unkindly.  K. 
Behold great Lords,  
The Cedars of the kingdom, how the King  
( A shrub) shrincks out of majesty.  
And comes to you; here's a fine Conventicle,  
Are ye blowing up new sires? and must Fitz●waters  
( Plain-breasted as his unaffected habit,)  
Be general again, again be called  
The marshal of heaven's Army and the Churches?  
Are you Planet struck● you cannot talk.  Fitz. 
Your pardon sir,  
I led the Barons, but 'twas when they could not choose  
But choose a leader, and then me they chose;  
And why so think ye? they all loved your Grace,  
And grieve, grieve very heartily, I tell you,  
To see you by some state mice so misled:  
This state mice that nibble so upon the Lands impaired freedom  
That would not so play in the lion's ear,  
But that by tickling him themselves to advantage;  
This troubled us, and grieved the body politic,  
And this we sought to mend; I tell truth John, I,  
We are thy friends John, and if ye take from friendship  
The liberty of modest admonition,  
Ye leave no mark whereby to distinguish it  
From the fawning passion of a Dog-base flattery;  
If I speak plain, this truth be my defence,  
A good man's comfort is his Conscience:  
And so much for plain Robin.  K. 
Fitzwater, Bruce, Richmond, and stubborn Leicester,  
This is the last of our admonitions,  
Either lay by those Arms, those lawless arms,  
Which you have listed 'gainst your Lord the King,  
And give such pledges as we shall accept  
For settling of your loyalties, or here  
By the abused sufferings of a King,  
And by the unkind scars with which you have  
Deformed the face of England; misery  
Shall over take you in a shape shall fright  
The Iron heart of faction, and the King  
Shall come no more acquainted with compassion,  
But call the bloodiest ends a righteous vengeance.  Leis. 
I will not leave mine arms,  
Nor break my word to you,  
Unless provoked, and justly; you have my faith,  
If you mislike that pledge—  K. 
We do.  Leis. 
And I reply that I can spare no nother.  Ches. 
D'ye hear sir?  O Bru. 
Already we have pawned the now scorned gage  
Of our afflicted honours, which refused  
Flies back again, and so we stand discharged.  Fitz. 
King John, King John,  
Perform but the sealed Covenants you are fled from,  
The Charter running thus, given by our hand  
The seventeenth day of June, and in the year  
215( the whole Realm being sworn to't,)  
And six and twenty Peers and Barons sworn  
To the execution( who if you fail) are perjured  
Do this, and like a plat of Osier wands  
We shall bow any way, and you shall work us  
Into what fashion you shall fancy; but  
if you be melancholy, love-sick John,  
Or lion, unyoaked Heifer, headstrong John,  
( As in the matter of the loss of Normandy,  
When Aniou, Britain, Main, Poictou, and Turwin,  
Were delivered up to Philip) you'll find your friends  
Not facile willows, but abrupt brambles,  
Whose intricate irregularity  
Whilst you shall go about to rectify,  
They'll prick your fingers, and with unkind scratches,  
Expose you to a late deplored experience:  
Come, come, know this, when love in our side sings,  
The unkindest wounds are those we take from Kings;  
I am plain Robin.  K. 
A down right rebel.  Fitz. 
Rebel!  K. 
So are ye all.  Om. 
Rebels!  K. 
Traitors.  Om. 
Traitors!  K. 
Rebels and traitors; Chester, Oxford, Gentlemen,  
Stand on your guards, there's danger in the room.  O. Bru. 
You ate too passionate, perform with us,  
You shall walk over us, if not, we stand  
Our injured Countries Justicers.  K. 
Proud boaster.  
This night shall raise a storm: braved? with you Bruce  
We will begin; and yet he is the Brother  aside 
Unto Matilda's Father, but his insolence,  
Oh love; a little while let revenge reign,  
This night shall beget passages shall prove  
Your King a lion( Vexed) as( Pleased) a Dove.  Exit Ox. 
Lights for the King; there Gentlemen.  King's party. Y. Bru. 
What will you do? a tempest curled his forehead  
Into the fashion of an angry Ocean,  
Made wild with winds.  Rich. 
We must resolve on something.  Ol. Bru. 
And suddenly, for in his executions  
He is swift as lightning, air is not more light.  Leis. 
Pandulph the Pope's stern Legate, 'tis divulged,  
Is again come over from the Pope, to proffer  
The King his readmission into the Church,  
And take off his six years' interdiction  
Upon some propositions yet concealed,  
And this may busy the King yet.  Y. Bru. 
This? the Greyhound  
Is not more eager at his flying game,  
Then I know King John is in his passions  
Of love or anger.  Ol. Bru. 
Why Brother, is this a time to study?  Fitz. 
Troth I was thinking of— stay, stay, I have't,  
I was thinking brother Bruce,— now 'tis gone again,  
And farewell it, let's ply our business now:  
If you marked, he said he would begin with you;  
I Would have you to night( stay not for the Sun,  
Which sure will rise blushing at this nights brawling)  
Do you and Richmond, with some score of men  
Post to your house, 'tis but an hours riding,  
And something more; there fortify yourselves,  
Your Lady, and your pretty little son,  
Poor knave he dreams not of these Thunderbolts:  
You my young mad cap, with your cousin my daughter,  
Shall unto Hartford Castle, she is the brand  
I fear will fire our Troy; Leicester and I  
Will gather Powers, and thither after you;  
You two for Guilford, you two for Hartford,  
And we two, whither wast we two must go?  Leis. 
Go? we two must stay i'th' City.  Fitz. 
Passion of me, where was my memory;  
But come, come, when Kings our dial's retrograde do run,  
We leave to look on them, and go byth' Sun:  
Lights, lights, good Gentlemen:  Exeunt. Enter Queen, Lady, Bruce, and Hubert. Qu. 
Good Lady take not on so, Oxford says all  
Is very well at London.  Lady. 
Yes, very well;  
Why then followed he your Grace with a Troop of horse,  
A band of men? why hath he seized the Castle,  
Cashiered my Servants? Oh Madam can it be,  
Your Grace( the Alter where I ever paid  
A Subjects devout Love,) should by a slight,  
a feigned accidental visit make,  
An entrance for hostility and terror.  Qu. 
Hubert, redeem you in this Lady's faith,  
And relate the truth.  Hub. 
Only upon mine honour  
Was I sent to seize this Lady's young Son George,  
As a pledge to'th King for her Lord's loyalty.  Lady. 
No Hubert, my Son is far enough from thee,  
Thou fatal keeper of poor Boys.  Hub. 
You mean  
Concerning Arthur, the unfortunate son  
Of Jeffery Plantaganet; Oh mad rumour!  
Who would trust thee but with so much reputation  
An honest beggar boasts of?  Q. 
In that believe me Madam, report hath wronged him,  
Which I can witness Lady.  Enter King and Chester. Lady. 
The King come to,  
Oh my sweet George, my joy; what wilt thou do?  K. 
All is to our desire; where's Bruces son?  Hub. 
Conveyed to Wales she affirms Sir.  Lady. 
Where thou shalt never see him John.  K. 
Good Madam,  
we'll speak with you anon, Queen Isabella,  
Thou must be still an agent to secure  
Me and my kingdom, straight with the Earl of Chester;  
Post thou to Hartford Castle, whither we are certified  
Young Bruce is fled with old Fitzwater's daughter,  
Try if by fair means thou canst win her to  
Attend on thee at Court; if we have not her  
A pledge,( as this) for her father's faith, we stand  
The food of faction, get her any way;  
If she deny, Chester with forces ready,  
Of from the Castle, shall give them fierce assault,  
And force them past entreaties; go my love  
And play the Amazon, with her surprisal,  
Secure a kingdom.  Qu. 
This craves haste and care; come noble Chester  
You shall along; but good my Lord forget not  
That Lady's kindness to me.  K. 
Oh my sweet.  Kiss. Exit. Hu. 
What a fine thing he makes the Queen; Oh lust,  
With what smooth craft thou creeptst to things unjust.  K. 
Oh my Matilda, if power or policy  
may get thee once more in these arms, I will hazard  
Even to a Kingdom for thee; come Madam fear not  
I wear no frowns, I am all mirth, let's see your pretty Son.  La. 
I fear your mirth is like the Porpoist pastimes,  
My Son hath been in Wales this month.  K. 
Hubert, see the Gates locked, a guard upon the Walls,  
Whilst we take some to search.  La. 
Where will you search King John?  
For heaven's sake do not search.  Hu. 
Nay an't be come to that.  Exit. K. 
Let me go,  
In these proceedings the Kings safety rests,  
The lion must not bend to base breasts.  Exit. La. 
Heaven to thee I kneel, who affrighted Mother am,  
Oh from this lion's claws keep my poor lamb.  Exit. Enter old Bruce, and Richmond, and above Oxford. Ol. Bru. 
The Castle Gates are shut, swift footed tyranny,  
That canst when thou pursu'st thy wild desires,  
Out run the wantan Roe; Oh Richmond, Richmond,  
I fear our stay all night, has made me witness  
Of a day darker than night.  Rich. 
Your fears and your afflictions  
Meet in one centre, for it seems the King  
Sent Oxford in the night on the walls;  
Behold where Oxford stands, I fear they have seized  
Your son, your Wife and Castle.  Ol. Bru. 
Oxford, thou sign  
Set up to show me where my sorrows dwell,  
Martyr me not with circumstances; but tell me,  
Is it( as from thy ominous presence there)  
We may conjecture.  Ox. 
Because you request brevity,  
Then by my ominous presence here great Lords  
You conjecture that you come too late.  Rich. 
Let force our entrance,  
We have tweuty men of spirit to dare.  Ol. Bru. 
A score of Cowards, Oxford,  
Dar'st thou be honourable?  Ox. 
An other time,  
But now I have no leisure, the King is here.  Rich. 
In person.  Ox. 
Yes, and power;  
And if the Queen and Chester speed as the King has,  
We shall have a pledget too for Fitzwater's loyalty,  
And so good day, ye meet the proverb here,  
Ye both are early up but near the near.  Exit. Rich. 
We strongly may conclude from their intelligence  
Of your Son, and fair Matilda's flight to Hartford,  
Thither the Queen and Chester are repaired,  
Either by force or policy to obtain her,  
So that the nearest path to our proceedings.  
Is to post back to London, and to hasten  
Her Father thither with his powers, and so  
Secure your son, his Daughter, and it may be,  
Surprise the Queen and Chester.  Ol. Bru. 
If we do,  
If but a hair of my betrayed wife,  
Or my poor boy do perish, a head royal  
Shall be sent back, slight scratches leave no scars  
But deep wounds are seeds of civil wars.  Exit.  

Actus 2. Scoena 1.  Enter King, Hubert, Lady, and Bruce. K. 
YOu would not then produce him.  Hu. 
Think of it Madam,  
And for your own discharge, give up your Son.  La. 
I have him not to give.  K. 
We will no more be mocked, are all the people,  Enter 2 soldiers with a Hamper, the Boy in it. 
Horses, and cattle voided forth the Castle?  Hub. 
All but this Hamper which stood underneath  
The stairs that led into the Dungeon.  K. 
A place suspicious, search it.  La. 
Let not rudeness boast sir,  
She was born i'th' presence of a Prince.  Hub. 
'tis locked my Lord.  K. 
Where is the Key?  La. 
I know not, lost.  K. 
Cut it open.  La. 
Do not, do not, indeed you'll spoil it then.  K. 
Well then they shall not.  La. 
Now the King is gracious.  K. 
But fetch each man a Torch, and here before me Set it a fire.  La. 
Oh rather cut it sir in a thousand pieces;  
Why did you tell me that they should not cut it,  
And now would burn it? who did teach you sir  
To mock a wounded heart? look, look, and they do not go  
To cut it too; good sir, I have a Jewel  
Lies concealed there, which I hide for fear o'th' soldiers,  
Of infinite value.  The Boy rises. Hub. 
'tis open my Lord.  K. 
what's in't?  Hub. 
Marry youth in a basket sir, here is the pretty Jewel Of infinite value.  K. 
Hold him fast fellow, Hubert keep back the mother.  La. 
I would be kept back, is that a Boy  
To crush with a rude hand, alas a gristle  
Look, and his very looks do not fright my Child.  Boy. 
Oh mother here is a man looks very black,  
( Pray do not hurt me) indeed, and if you do,  
You'll make my mother cry  La. 
For heaven's sakellet me kiss him, I warrant you the child was almost smothered, come from him George.  Boy. 
A won't let me go, if I were your match,  
I'd give you a good sound box o'th' ear,  K. 
Come, Come,' we will not part you, Hubert there waits  
One Brand without, servant to the Earl of Chester,  
With a guard, let him Convey them both to Windsor Castle,  
And by this signet to sir Walter Blunt,  
Detain them in his custody, until  
We shall direct him further.  Boy. 
Oh brave, mother I have heard of Wiusor Castle, my father  
Told me there are brave bows and arrows; and drums there.  La. 
Oh happy Innocent, who in spite of foes  
Can play the pretty wanton with thy woes.  Exit. Hub. 
The Lord Steward sir  Enter Winchester. 
Is come it seems from London.  K. 
My Lord of Winchester the meaning of your speed?  Win. 
The Pope's legate Sir,  
The Cardinal Pandulp is arrived at London,  K. 
What news with him; Six years we have stood  
An inte●dicted man, can he bring louder thunder?  Win. 
He brings proffers of peace sir,  
Advantagable peace too, if that you please  
To make a resignation of your crown:  K. 
Ha!  Win. 
Good sir suffer me,  
And that to him to the Pope's use; withal;  
( Paying an annual tribute for your kingdoms  
Of England, and of Ircland, in the presence  
Of the whole body of the Peers,) he has power  
From his Holiness to reinvest your temples  
With the rich Diadem; and with all pronounce you  
Again admitted into the Church, your power  
Weakened and wounded, yet may by this means  
Lion like, rouse itself and remove all obstacles  
'Twixt you and the high calling of a King,  
Which by the reason you stood cursed at Rome,  
Received affronts so frequent; besides Fitzwaters,  
With Leicester( who by the return of Bruce and Richmand  
From thence to London, were upon expedition,  
With there powers for Hartford Castle to intercept  
The proceedings of the Queen and Chester;)  
I have stayed upon the legates special charge  
To attend your resignation, potent nessesity  
( The great dispenser with all ceremony,)  
Calls it a point of Policy, whereby  
You build yourself, ruin your enemy.  Hu. 
And then you stand again, sir a King absolute  
And dazzle faction.  Ki. 
Come we will catch craft  
With imitation, he that would screw his ends  
To his own aims, must mingle( when he wins)  
Secret dissemblings 'mongst his venial sins.  Enter soldiers, and young Bruce prisoner. Ches. 
You are mine Sir.  Y. Bru. 
'tis false, I am Fortunes.  Ches. 
This day to fortune than I sacrifice,  
As to my Mistress.  Y. Br. 
A Whore is then your Mistress.  Ches. 
A Whore!  Y. Bru. 
A rascal Jade,  
That takes with the dixterity she gives; tell me  
Of your Mistress and the Devil: Oh my stars.  Ches. 
O sir we have ways to tame you, you remember  
You braved me in the presence of the King,  
At Baynard's Castle.  Y. Bru. 
Oh I am mad,  
Yet not so mad, but I dare still brave Chester,  
And from the top of my affliction,  
Upon thy light heeled Mrs. wanton fortune,  
Cast from the manly temper of my blood  
A noble scorn.  Ch. 
You shall be fettered first.  Y. Bru. 
Fettered:  Ch. 
Yes, and sent  
Up to the King as an arch Rebel, to whom,  
To whom( before) we have by Letters sent our happy fortune.  Y. Bru. 
Rebel:  
By that boiling sea of blood which thou hast troubled,  
Had my desires but bodies, I would burst  
Fetters of steel, tear off thy cankered flesh,  
And with thy jawbone,( thou honour wounding man)  
I would kill a thousand of these Rascals.  Ch. 
Drag him  
Into the Castle, since your fortunes move you,  
We●'l force you to a madness.  Y. Bru. 
Fool thou canst not;  
Frost makes fire fervent, he that wisely knows  
His wealthy fate, bravely becomes his woes.  Charge. Exit. Ches. 
Are you so armed, away with him.  Enter the Queen, dragging in Matilda, her hair loose, and Face bloody. Qu. 
Come forward fury, witch.  Mat. 
Alas, why thus  
Great Queen do you misuse me? credit me  
I do not fear to die, young Infants do it;  
Nor wish I life, the murderer enjoys it;  
But let me know my trespass.  Qu. 
I'm made your stale,  
The King, the King your strumpet; oh thou wretch,  
The matter my spleen!  tears her. Mat. 
Hear me but speak.  Qu. 
Yes, I will thee speak,  
That every syllable may serve instead  
Of a fierce wind to blow my fiercer fury  
Into the fashion of a punishmen,  
Fitting the daring of thy trespass.  Mat. 
Hear me;  
By these red marks, registers of your rashness,  
And by these tears, the fruits of my affliction,  
That the King passionately pursues my love,  
Is truth uncontr●dicted; but if I  
Did ever think you wrong, let mine honour be  
buried in dark oblivion.  Qu. 
Sin's a sweet tame Serpent, they must beguile  
Clothe rude errors, in a soft smooth stile:  Enter Chester. 
●ut str●mpst thou shalt ruin't.  Charge. Ches. 
Shift for yourself Madam,  
Richmond escaped from London with the powers  
Levied by Leicester, and Fitzwater,( who  
Were stayed by Winchester, and the Legate Pandulph)  
Hath rescued Bruce, got again the Castle,  Ent. Y. Bruce, and Richmond with soldiers. 
And make you now their search.  Exit. Rich. 
Cease on the Queen;  
Madam you are our prisoner,  Y. Bru. 
Keep Chester safe good Ricmond;  
Ha! oh what rude hand  
Hath razed this Book of beauty? a face where virtue  
Intelligibly stood to charm the Reader: Tell me Cozen,  
And by the thousands of thy tears, and fears  
No tittle, place, degree, the very Grave  
Shall not secure the offender.  Qu. 
There is death in's angry eyes.  aside. Mat 
The rude soldiers  
My noble Cozen hailed me thus, and tore me,  
And would have sure done worse, but that the Queen,  
The wondrou● kind Queen in her royal person,  
Came with a troop of well appointed soldiers,  
and rescued me.  Qu. 
She mocks me sure.  Y. Bru. 
The Queen so kind.  Ma. 
O Cousin had you seen  
How good she was in her quick speed, how zealous  
To relieve innocence, you would have thought  
She'd killed them with her frowns ere she came at them,  
So lamentably miserable were my sufferings,  
So excellently noble was her charity.  Y. Bru. 
Now by my life, 'twas honour in the highest,  
Because a foe, and gracious Madam, not  
To be out bid in this brave Mart of honour,  
You shall have a safe Convoy, and of quality  
Fitting your person, to convey( with your freedom)  
To th'angry King our loves, that he may see  
How plain to him we mean, and how nobly  
Unto a goodness of so fair deservings  
As this now shown; see there be present order  
For her majesty's attendance, and sweet Coz  
Withdraw from the cold air.  Exit, Qu. 
Farewell Matilda;  
Oh pardon me for heaven's sake, now I find  
Thy soul is crystal.  Ma. 
Remember to the King  
Good Madam my great sorrows; and forget not  
To tell him this, that woman in whose heart  
Virtue and honour stand a pair of sentinels;  
The Sea may sooner flame, fire admit frost,  
Ere such a woman fall from heaven: Oh she,  
Who as a regular star, keeps virtue's spear,  
Shows like a Pearl hung in an Angel● ear.  Qu. 
Thou noble soul of goodness.  Exit. A chair of state discovered Tables and chairs responcible, a Guard making a lane: Enter between the●, King John, Pandulph the Pope's Legate, Chester Oxford, and all the King's Party: After them, Fitzwater, Richmond, Leicester, and Bruce; the King( holding the Crown) kneeling on the left side of the chair, Pandulph possessing it. K. 
Lo in the sight of Prelates Peers,  
Of Earth and Heaven, of all that hears  
My words; I John Plantagaent,  
( With all submissive reverence,) set  
My crown at the most sacred foot  
Of Innocent the Third, unto't  
I join my Kingdom●, give them free  
Unto his pious clemency:  
And for the follies of my reign,  
Heats of my youth, and the rough strain  
Of riper years, my Rebellions, my high hand,  
My six years' Interdictien, and  
A●l my misdoings; I this, and those,  
Submit to the Pope's power to disclose.  Pan. 
You have by times recracted, and your foot now  
Beats out a certain path; in these Lord's sights of I do  
Produce the Letter, drawn Obligatory  
From John of England to his holiness,  
Peruse it sir, you are there obliged to pay,  
( As yearly from this day Renting your Kingdoms)  
To Innocent the Third, and to his Successors  
A thousand marks per annum.  K. 
It runs so.  Pan. 
Yes, three hundred for Ireland, & seven for England.  Fitz. 
Do not peruse it John, though thou and we  
Have had some bickerings, yet let me counsel thee,  
This is my country's Cause.  Pan. 
You, and your Country  
Have cause in this Cause to rejoice.  Eitz. 
Good, good, Sir Pandulph,  
Though in our filial love to our Mother Church,  
By his holiness command, we stayed from Hartford,  
Yet let's have fair play, do not wrong that mother,  
Apparelling her comely holy face,  
With a forehead full of frowns, pleited proceedings.  Pan. 
You rail.  Fitz. 
I do not rail,  
Although I hold and reverence the Chair,  
( We had been at Hartford else, and not at London,)  
Yet in a true breast we should nothing see,  
But holy pure, unmixed simplicy.  K. 
Give me the pen.  Leis. 
Will you then sign?  K. 
Yes, you rough sons of faction,  
And hook your stubborn nostrils, this is rhubarb  
To your smooth palates: give me the pen to write.  Fitz. 
Do not write John.  K. 
Do not prate fool.  Fitz. 
In sooth that write  
Will wrong thee; Children and Fools tell truth,  
Remember that.  Pan. 
There was no way like this,  
To beat a path out to your peace.  Ki. 
Right Reverend  Pand. proffers to descend. 
And holy Sir, receive to the Pope's use,  
His will, and your own charge: Sir, descend not,  
But ere you reinvest me, hear me tell  
A tale of sorrow, behold here these Lords,  
Who had been now bruising the face of peace  
With unkind buffets, but for Winchester,  
Your strict compulsion, and their seeming fear  
Of deserved interdiction; but oh spirit,  
No devil deceives like th'houshold hypocrite,  
These of my Court, with young Brace now ensconced  
At Hartford, whither it may hair brained Richmond  
hath retired his discontents.  O. Bru. 
We miss our hopes else.  K. 
These bandy faction with me, and with their drum●  
( Lewed linguists to interpret their disloyalties)  
Brave me i'th' field, deform th' afflicted face  
Of trembling England with foul bloody stain●,  
Larums at hideous midnight, they break my sleeps,  
Fill them with fearful dreams, terrible startings,  
And with the grief of my unfriendly fears,  
Force me to pierce my pillow with my tears.  Pan. 
Unnatural cruelty,  
Able to melt marble into compassionate tears.  Ox. 
Dainty dissembler.  O. Bru. 
Now may it please you—  Pan. 
Peace until his holiness command be finished;  
Ascend your now true Seat sir, and from the hand  Pan. gives John the Chair. 
Of myself Pandulph, Legate for the Pope,  
Observing the due payments specified,)  
Receive your Crown and Kingdoms; and with them  
We here pronounce your absolute readmission  
Into the Church, and from his holiness  
We reinvest you, with all Powers, Prerogatives,  
Freedoms, Communities,( and in the strength of efficacy,)  
That constantly adheres to lawful Princes,  
And an obedient Son unto the Church,  
Long life to John of England, Wales and Ireland,  
The lawful King!  Flourish. Leis. 
I am mad.  Fitz. 
So, so, now we must suffer  
The Kingdoms ancient Liberties, Land, lives,  
And all to run the course that he shall steer,  
Good heaven that I were dead, what do I here.  weeps. O Bru. 
But i'll not asslike bear my country's wrongs,  
Mine own at home, and like a Court chameleon,  
Give thanks unto mine injurer: hear me King John.  K. 
You shall hear us sir first; we have been clouded  
Six years, but like the Sun in his Meridian,  
We now again are glorious; thus in brief,  
Leicester we require strong pledge for your loyalty;  
Bruce call your mad Son home from Hartford,  
Your Wife and son shall better speed at Guilford,  
For Richmond in our reassumed power.  
We will proclaim him traitor, and Fitzwater,  
Either give up Matilda for your faith, or hear  
What we shall sentence.  Leis. 
We must stand then  
What thunder you shall throw, perform with us,  
We kiss your royal hands.  O. Bru. 
If not, we stand  
Rocks in our resoluton.  K. 
D'ye hear them now sir?  Fitz. 
Nay, nay, let him hear me too then:  
Lord Legate Pandulph; thus 'tis,  
And thus you may inform his holiness,  
In a field called running-Mead' 'twixt stains and Windsor,  
After some bloody noses on both sides,  
I tell truth I; there the King and Barons  
Met for discussion of conceived wrongs,  
And indeed not misconceived, our Houses, Honours,  
Our father's freedoms, the Lands ancient Liberties  
( Unjustly to increase some private coffers)  
Felt daily Demunition, there to Covenants drawn,  
( Bearing the name and sense of Magna Charta,  
Which many hundred years may be seen hereafter)  
King John subscribed, we swore him fealty.  K. 
Which fealty they denied, till our assoilment  
Of our six years' Interdiction, forcing us therefore  
To seal unlawful liberties.  Leis. 
Upon our honours,  
They were but what Antiquity proved lawful.  Ox. 
Oh but my Lord.  Fitz. 
Tut, tut, Lord me no Lords,  
He broke, we pouted, I tell plain truth I,  
Yet fell into no relapse of hostility,  
But wot ye what, he casts a covetous eye,  
Upon my Daughter, passionately pursues her,  
There had been other pledges but our oaths else,  
( For heaven knows thtm he had) and( amongst the rest)  
Matilda must be my pledge, for well he deemed  
They yielding their●, shame would brand my denial,  
But catch craft, when we put truth to trial,  
Kings should have shining souls, and white desires  
Inflamed with zeal, not parched by Paphian fires;  
So shines the soul in which virtue doth shroud,  
Is a serene sky bespotted with no cloud,  
But a Copper conscience whilst the head wears Gold,  
Is but a plain downright untruth well told,  
Come, come, I cannot fawn.  K. 
But in the passion  
Of a Dog sir you can snarl; have you talk all your words?  Fitz. 
I have told truth I.  K. 
Then we will fall to deeds,  
Oxford command a Guard, and presently  
Take them to'th Tower; we can now talk and do,  
Away with them, and muzzel those fierce mastiffs,  
That durst leap at the face of majesty,  
And strike their killing fangs into honour's heart;  
Are they not gone? we shall be passionate  
In your delay.  O. Bru. 
Come Leicester, let us wear  
Our sufferings like Garland.  Leis. 
Tempest nor death,  
Could never ou● do Leicester, who dares die  
Laughing at times poisoned integrity.  Fitz 
Now by my troth 'twas very nobly spoken,  
Shall I turn tale; no, no, no, let's go,  
But how things will be carried; ha! are these tears  
Body of me? they are; Shall I go like a sheep  
With this pair of lions; ha, ha, ha,  
I do laugh now John, and i'll tell thee why,  
thou'rt yet in thy green May, twenty seven summers  
Set in our Kalends, but when forty Winters more  
Shall rouned thy forehead with a field of snow,  
And when thy comely veins shall cease to flow,  
When those majestic eyes shall float in rheums,  
When giant Nature her own self consumes,  
When thy swift Pulses shall but slowly pant,  
When thou art all a volume of my want,  
( That like a tale-sp●nt fire thou shalt s●nck,)  
Then John upon this lesson thou wilt think●  
He dies a happy old man, whose sweet youth  
Was a continue sacrifice to truth;  
I must weep now indeed.  Ki. 
Away with them.  Exit. Pan. 
Unto King John, the favour of his holiness,  
With peace and happiness.  Exit. K. 
Which we return  
With all filial obedience— look up Oxford,  
The day breaks, and the Sun hath chaste the night  
Out of our hemisphere.  Enter a Gentleman. Ox. 
Your news sir?  Gen. 
Letters from the Queen sir.  K. 
Was the Earl Richmond there with any powers  
Ere your departure.  K reads. Gen. 
No may it please your majesty, we heard not of him,  
But all on your part went fair and fortunate  K. 
Oh Oxford now they have her, fly back like lightning,  
Tell him this day we'll meet them all at Barnet.  Exit Gent. Ox 
But her Father and her friend's imprisonment  
May obdurate her hea●t, they dare not sure  
On the great peril of a curse to fall  
Into a Relapse now you are absolute.  
Faith 〈◊〉 try smooth paths to your ends, to release them,  
I hold the winningst way to captivate  
Their duties, and Matilda to your wishes.  K. 
Good, do not kill me ●oy before our going  
Instantly thou shalt fly with the Lords release,  
We pine in our delays, oh Cupid swiftly  
Fly into Paphoes', and from thy mother's shrine,  
Catch but a nimble wanton flame, and cast it  
Into the busy kingdom of my heart,  
That it may teach my tongue the art of victory,  
And every year unto thy well-spent Quiver  
I'll add a shaft, and call it Cupid's love Dart;  
Come Oxford, I tread methinks on air,  
Until I read that volume of sweet grace,  
The well writ story of Matild●'s face.  Ox. 
She yields at last my life on't sir.  Exit.  

Actus 3. Scoena 1.  En●er Brand reading of a Letter. 
WIll Brand, these are to certify, That Fortune, Mistresses of Changes, with my unlucky stars, hathrendred m● a prisoner to my most mortal Enemy young Bruce.  Bra. 
That mad Tamburlaine.  Let. 
My entreaty is none of the noblest, but direct against my blood, my desires, and my deservings.  Bra. 
Oh that I had a leg of that young Bruce, but minced and buttered.  Let. 
I am credibly possessed, his majesty hath into your custody comm●ited his Mother, and her young son George, whereby you have occasion cast into your hand to parallel their; sufferings with my fortunes, not that I would have you banish humanity.  Bra. 
He need never have writ that Bawds and sergeants have saved me the labour.  Let. 
Nor give to deep a wound to Conscience.  Bran. 
Another labour saved too,  
Usurers do it daily  Let. 
But as I let you understand how I am here accommodated, so shape the duty of a Servant to parallel in their persons, your vilified Mr Ralph Chester.  Bran. 
Brave Lord, the Laddar of my fortunes, 〈◊〉 suffer on that side, and for humanity's sake, and thred-b●● conscience( a couple of cousin-germen, that thrice a week know not where to get a supper;) shall the friends of him that stands Lord of thy fortunes, and thy professed foe, fare well here; now I talk of fare, I received this Letter yesterday, and since they have uei●h●r eaten bit, nor drunk drop, nor by these ten stealers shall not, till I hear again from my Lord—: Come o●lt madam Mother, and your young prating brat— they do look hungry already.  Enter Lady and Boy. La. 
What would our unkind jailor?  Boy. 
Sure Mother Mr. Brand hath brought us v●ctuals.  Bra. 
No sirrah, I come to tell you to day i● fasting day.  La. 
Two days together,  
Good Mr. Brand, 'tis not mine own want begs,  
But my poor boys; I have held him pretty pastime,  
To have him yet forget that wild wolf hunger,  
And still the harmless soul would point each period  
Of his sport, erying Mother give me bread.  Bra. 
She has a winning way,  
Her carriage and her person are both exquisite:  
Fai●● tell me Madam, what would you give for some victuals  
To give your Son?  La. 
Any thing, set thou the price thou shalt have Gold.  Boy. 
And truly sir, if you'll but give me a Cake,  
Or a capon's leg, when I am a man,  
I'll give you twenty shillings to buy your Boy fine things.  Bra. 
If you dare lie with me,  
You and your son shall both have sustenance.  La. 
Hearken good heaven, what says the man?  Boy. 
He would isle with you Mother,  
But then when I am a bed too, there  
Will be no room for my, Father.  Bra. 
Be as plain and brief as I was, dare ye do'●?  La. 
No thou bad man, I dare no●.  Bra. 
No shall see● by this hand,  La. 
Thou liest thou fiend, shouldst thou 〈◊〉 Ca●●e do'●,  
The Towers would tremble, and turn Intelligencers  
To all the passengers; the walls would shudder,  
The E●cutchions, Streamers, Baune● s, all the relics  
Of fame and honour, would fall down, to see  
Honour and Fame so wounded.  Bra. 
See! I am ashamed to hear you,  
If such sins could not be done without being seen,  
Informers would have a fine trade on't, a Parators place  
Would counvaile five sergeants; ha, ha, seen kither;  
Why there would not be sheets en ugh in the Land  
For the penitent, and innocent Beadles enough to correct the  
Guilty; Come, come, we'll do't i'●h dark then,  La. 
In he dark saidst thou?  
Oh in the deepest darkness, the white Angels  
Will stare upon thee, and with flaming eyes.  
Will make make the room appear to thy wild conscience,  
Twice lighter than the sun:  
'Tis a foul Devil that insinuates to thee,  
The sour sweetness of a d●●uded minute;  
He has borrowed a white robe, pluck it off from him,  
And thou wilt see him a black hideous monster,  
How with a slavish look he will creep from thee,  
Displeased that thou art fall'n again in love,  
With holy goodness.  Bra. 
How my Conscience wambles.  Boy. 
Do, do, good sir, think of it,  
It will make you give's some bread.  
And then you'll be a very honest man,  Bra. 
I have heard you.  La. 
And with a thirsty soul I hope.  Bra. 
Yes, as Usurers hear Sermons, more for novelty then integrity, I love good words when I pay nothing for 〈◊〉; what do you see in me that I should appear unworthy of your grant●  La. 
Because in that request,  
Thou appearest to me as ugly as a Toad.  Bra. 
A Toad ●  Boy. 
Ay, and a Frog to if you go to that,  
Do not cry Mother.  Bra. 
Get you both in, by this victorious sword,  
And by the horrid odious comparison,  
( for such a one first ●u e made comparisons odious)  
Ye get not a bit this seven days.  Lady. 
By that time  
My Boy and I shall make a pair of happy ones  
In youder glorious Kingdom; tell me George,  
Shall this bad man abnse thy father's bed?  
Or shall we fast yet longer?  Bra. 
The boy will consent I warrant you,  
The Pages have instructed him.  Boy. 
Indeed I am very hungry:  Bra. 
Did I not tell you so.  Boy. 
But rather than this Goat shall lie in my father's place,  
Indeed ●'le fast this seven years.  La. 
Ah noble boy,  
Sweet plant of goodness, thou hast proved it true,  
Virtue will wish the good it cannot do.  Bra. 
Aterribly ugly Toad.  Exeunt. Enter King, Queen, and Oxford. Ox. 
Good sir ye must be patient.  K. 
Patient,  
Bitterness dwells with me: if I do not put him  
To an eternal patience, that shall dare  
To witch me into that dull fit of fools;  
Matilda won and lost●  Qu. 
Good sir  K. 
Away;  
Struggle not with the tempest of my blood,  
That will undo th●e.  Qu. 
Richmond lion like,  
( After we sent our Letter with the Foree●  
The Barrous had prepared,) clouded our day,  
And made our fortunes his.  Ches. 
They ●out o'th' Tower to,  
Fitzwater Bruce, and Leicester, with fresh powers,  
Are not a league hence.  K. 
The lion Richmond, a Hare had he met with any  
But field Mice, Rats, runaways, and Weezles,  
Frighted even with the waving of a Flag,  
They would have call'd● scarecrow stufied with straw,  
And bound upon a ten groats Irish Garron,  
The Glorious Richmond●pon his fiery Steed;  
Oh there is nothing certain but our sorrows,  
Our borrowed bliss is but the shuttl●-cock  
Of a day's pastime.  Qu. 
I have pastimed her, if tearing be a pastime,  
Let that comfort you,  
I have torn her almost to d: o'th'.  K. 
Matilda.  Qu. 
Yes.  K. 
And would you have it comfort me?  Qu. 
I know it does, call but up your Troops  
Brayely again, recover her, and read  
Upon her face my fury.  K. 
Oh ye cruel one,  
Crueler than the flame that turned to Clnders  
The fair Ephesian Temple; wild as a wolf,  
The Bear is not so bloody, tear her hairs,  
Which when they took their ●astime with the winds,  
Would charm the astonished gazer; tear that face,  
Lovely as is the morning in whose eyes  
Stands writ the history of her heart, intjoing  
The ravished Reader to run on, 'pon whose eye lids  
Discretion dwells, which when a wild thought  
Would at those Casements like a thief steal in,  
Plays her heart's noble friend, and shuts out sin.  Qu. 
O why then sir, if she be such a volume  
Of white unvanquished 〈◊〉 would you stain.  
And blot the fair leaves with your 〈◊〉 desir●  
Ghaste, frosty bosoms, brook no lust-born fires.  K. 
She has put me to my sophistry.  Qu. 
I knew I was made  
Your stay for her obtaining.  
Oh why  
Raise you so high a pyramid to her praise,  
And prostrate your own virtue? if she be  
Such a Book of goodness( with bad desires)  
Why do you read her? He no truth intends,  
Seeks to corrupt that Text which he commends,  
Good sir consider it.  Enter Hubert. K. 
Well, I will think on'●, and you will have done.  Hu. 
Now is the time my Lord,  
If e'er you would be fortunate in your desires,  
Richmond, young Bruce, Matilda,  
( With the Earl of Chester prisoner,) ●and a slight convoy  
But of some threescore Horse, and two hundred Archer●  
Are now i'th' valley crossing of the County,  
'Tis thought for Essex.  K. 
Where are their main Forces?  Hub. 
Insconest in Hartford Castle, our Forces yet  
Not so diminished, or in rout for want  
Of their lost general, but if you please,  
We dare with hope assail them.  K. 
I will be general,  
Order the Powers you have for present onset.  Qu. 
My Lord, you said you would consider.  K. 
I am considering bravely how to charge  
The Foe just in the face: Matilda I am now thy soldier,  
Friend of my heart, the King himself comes for thee,  
Who shall in this day's doings amply prove,  
Honour takes fire from the flame of love.  Hu. 
Good fortune on our side sir.  Exeunt. Manet Queen. A Charge afar off. Qu. 
Hear not that prayer  
Good heaven, oh tempt not virtue to adorn  
A foul Cause with fair fortunes: Hark, hark, they meet,  
And now pell-mell the angry Lords do list  
unnatural swords, good heaven keep safe the King,  
But let his Cause miscarry; I will not stay  
To see him so pursue those wild desires,  
Which cannot sure end well; i'll to the Lords  
So near at hand, and with Matilda's Father,  
Accommodate my griefs, and let there be  
Her fears, my tears, the King's infirmity.  Exit Enter King, Oxford, and Matilda. K. 
Oxford, sh●'s now the Kings.  Ma. 
Most miserable Maid.  K. 
Most excellent Matilda all are thy friends,  
Imperious love fat on my l●ance just then,  
When on the pan●ing breast of daring Richmond.  
( Who like a me●ancholly sullen Cloud,  
Eclipsed thy Chariot) thou didst see me print  
My re●●lesse passion: Oxford keep my happiness,  
Just with that care thou wouldst oreserve that pair  
Of precious things, thine eye; Chester's engaged  
Deep in the Cha●e, and we must te●ch him off;  
Pardon me honour that I plac●d love first,  
My doings now are thine.  Exit. Ox. 
Keep near the King, Gentlemen,  
His unbounded spirit may lose him el●e; good Madam  
Do not lament so, though your friends are ●catter'd,  
you're in a sphere of happiness.  Mat. 
Oh that great power,  
That many times out of this toy I hath taken me,  
Deliver me again, because again,  
Virtue hath made me miserable.  Ent. young Bruce. Y. Bru. 
Oh that necessity  
Should force us unto flight, base flight, repugnant  
To man and honour. Ha! nappy flight now,  
That brought me this way.  Mat. 
Cozen.  Y. Bru. 
Oxford, either give back  
That pure unspotted Dove, from the killing talon  
Of the forgetful King, or thou or I  
Must never see him more. ●  Ox. 
That to our fortunes,  
I must not fail the King sir.  Y. Bru. 
I must not fail then  Enter Richmond. Fight, Oxford falls! 
To get her as I can sir.  Rich. 
We are scattered now  
Paste making head again.  Y. Bru. 
But I have made shift to get my cousin again sir.  Rich. 
Let us not stay now to expostulate, Necessity  
Directs us to our friends not a league distant,  
If we not fly we are lost.  Ma. 
Good cousin let's fly,  
'tis no disgrace to obey necessity.  Y. Bru. 
Oh I could stamp and tear that hag necessity,  
Bitter necessity, thou scourge of things  
That forces lions to wear Swallows wings.  Exe. Manet Ox. to him enter King, Chester, & others. Ches. 
You have played the soldier sir.  K. 
The soldier Chester; I am so light with joy,  
I could do any thing.  Ches. 
Troth sir would it might please you then to grace  
Me with the President-ship of Picardy,  
Fallen in this last Rebellion from the Lord  
Bruce un●o your Crown.  K. 
'tis thine as certain  
As Matilda is the Kings: Oh Chester, now Matilda  
Is in the King's power.  Ox. 
No sir, she is in heavens.  Ches. 
Who's this, Oxford, let's help to raise him up.  K. 
What sayst thou man? Matilda, where is Matilda?  Ox. 
Young Bruce in his flight happening upon this way  
For her recovery gave me fierce assault;  
I did stand for you sir as much as man could,  
Till my misfortune found me, than I fell;  
To him eme Richmond, and with all speed possible  
They have carried her to'th Lords on t'other side the h●ath.  K. 
Oh villain, villaine●  
Suppose he had cut thy hear● strings, hadst thou cast●  
Thy dying eye upon Matilda's face?  
She would have shot another spirit into thee,  
More daring than the first, at least more fortunate.  Ches. 
Let him be conveyed t'each'ch Town and dressed,  
Our best course is now to withdraw, the Lords  
Are strong, and may give us dangerous chase else.  K. 
What are our hopes  
Like Garlands, ●pon afflictions forehead worn,  
Kissed in the morning, and at evening torn.  Exit. A Table and chairs set out. Enter Fitzwater, Old Bruce, young Bruce, Richmond, and Leicester. O. Bru. 
The day is then the Kings.  Rich. 
White victory  
Clapped on her silver wings, with a sullen face,  
Took leave of us, and pitched upon his Tent,  
Where she sat smiling, while necessity.  
Enforced our flight.  Y. Bru. 
Oh that witch Necessity.  Fitz. 
Well, well, away with the witch,  
'tis well you brought Matilda off; come, come,  Sit to Council. 
And brther Bruce you have a Wife and son  
Unjustly detained from you, I am injured,  
I pray set you our feet into the path  
Of our proceedings.  Y. Bru. 
Let's with our powers  
Raze Windsor walls.  Fitz. 
Now you are i'th' field straight,  
Give old men leave; you would raze! what would you raze●  
Your reputation with your rash proceedings;  
Come, come, hear your Father.  Y. Bru. 
Why let him speak them,  O. Bru. 
First let us take up our affronts in order,  
And fix by ours, the general's grievances,  
The crying groans of England, whose blubbered cheeks  
Are stiff with tears, to see their privildedges  
Daily impaired.  Rich. 
What's to be done?  Leis. 
Let's send to the French King,  
Proffer him our assistance, to transfer  
The Crown from John to him, if at such a day  
He will put over a strong navy royal,  
With an Army for the attempt, with which( our Forces  
Making one body) both at at Sea and Land,  
We bid fair for our freedoms.  Fitz. 
I do not like it.  Y. Eru. 
'Sfoot, you will like nothing;  
Let us be ringed and noozed,  O. Bru. 
Besides, being assoiled of his six years' Interdiction,  
Those that before fled from him as a leper,  
Will now flock to him.  Rich. 
They begin already,  
( Although we seek( with our own) their good,) to censure  
And call hostility plain faction.  Leis. 
This is my resolve, I say there is no way  
To fix our freedoms, but to call in Philip  
And make him King.  Exit Richmend. Om. 
So think we all.  Fitz. 
Ay but I think not so,  
Though you're all wise for Philip, he'll be a gainer,  
But what will you get by't? They run on Rocks and shelves,  
Can can counsel others, not secure themselves.  Y. Bru. 
We must and will do something.  Fitz. 
You will send to Philip,  
Instruct him to proceed, it may be furnish  
His navy with our Pilots, he lands, we proffer  
Change, John for Philip; oh can you think,  
That we can undergo a heavier stroke  
From a natural, then from a foreign yoke;  
Go to, go to, who in no estate can rest,  
They may change oft, but seldom comes the best.  Ol. Bru. 
I am diverted.  Leis. 
Which way would you steer then?  Fitz. 
By the same compass, but not upon this parallel,  
I do not like the line; but this we'll do,  
we'll send for Lewis, Philip's son the dolphin,  
And to him( seemingly) preter the proffer,  
A Crown will fire him; may be he shall land,  
But with no more Force than we please; and it may be  
He shall take a fisher Town, for every Nation  
Can take away their trading as the time goes,  
Our m●ine Force being ready, we will hover  
'Twixt John and Lewis; if John deny an oath  
To redress our griefs, and become regular  
And Hostage for the keeping it, we join  
With the French and fright him further; If he consent,  
We fall on his part then, expulse Lewis,  
And send him to the Seas again; the dolphin  
Is young and may be wrought on, but old Philip  
Is dangerously politic, with foot ashore,  
he'll brook no juggling, both ease, and safety  
We work on willows, but when we strike at Oaks,  
We sweat, and sometimes hurt with our own strokes.  Om. 
It shall be thus effected.  Leis. 
But let report divulge his Landing,  
With more eminent danger than we will let him practise.  Fitz. 
For this time  Ent. Queen, Matilda & Ladies. 
Rise then; See the Queen and Ladies,  
Good Madam cast off sadness,  
Matilda we are all here i'th' City safe;  
The very hearts o'th' Citizens( men injured  
In their privileges as we are) they are ours,  
What should we fear then?  Enter Richmond. Mat. 
You are all such friends,  
I am poor in my well-meaning thankfulness.  Rich. 
A Barge with divers youthful Citizens,  
Apparelled rich like Masquers, is now landed  
Upon the Stairs, hearing the Queen was here,  
●ithall this meeting of their noble friends,  
Proffer their loves and duties to conclude  
And grace the evening with their Revels.  Fitz. 
In the Hall we'll meet them. Did not I tell you  
These Citizens were noble lads our friends?  
Wait on the Lady's Lords, I am here your grace's servant,  
By my troth I thank'em, they will crown our feast,  
And credit me, having such a princely guest.  Exeunt. Loud music. Enter at one door Fitzwater, old Bruce, young Bruce, Leicester, Matilda and Ladies; at the other door, the King, Chester, Oxford, Masquers. A Dance. Fitz. 
Now by my troth they are gallants,  
Citizens said you; now I remember to,  
Ye do go gallant in your Shops, no wonder then,  
If in Masques you cut it. I remember Gentlemen,  
Your Fathers wore a king of comely habit,  
Comely, because it well became the reverend name of Citizens,  
But now let a Knight walk with you in your shops,  
( And I commend you for't, ye keep the fashion)  
We know not which is which—; how my tongue ranges,  
And night grows old, mad times, must have mad changes;  
Come, come, a Hall, a hall.  The Masquers take the Ladies, and fall to the Dance. Qu. 
Believe me you have done well.  Y. Bru. 
Pox of these cat's guts, how they squeak.  
Methinks a rattling sheepskin lustily boxed,  
Would thunder brave amongst them.  One of the Torch bearers takes Matilda. Mat. 
I can dance no more indeed sir.  Fitz. 
I am deceived if that fellow did not carry  
A Torch e'en now;  
Will you shame the Gentleman?  
Dance when I bid you.  Mat. 
Oh me, that grasp was like the Kings.  O. Bru. 
Dance cousin.  Fitz. 
In good deed dance,  
Or you will make me angry.  The K. pulls her violently. 
Body of me, that's too much for a torchbearer,  
You sir Jack, sir Jack, she is no whitleather,  
She will not stretch I assure you, if you come hither  
For love so 'tis.  K. 
For love.  Eitz. 
But if you and your Company,  
Put on forgetful rudeness, pray take your Cupid yonder,  
Your thing of feathers, and your Barge stands ready  
To bear ye all aboard the ship of Fools,  
I am plain Robin— passion of me!  
Look if he do not threaten me; I will see thee,  
Wert thou King John himself.  Pulls off his Vizard. Om. 
The King!  Mat. 
Oh which way shall I fly?  Qu. 
I would not leave so sweet a chaste companion.  Exeunt Qu. Mat. Rich, and Ladies. In the bustle, Fitzwater drops one of his Gloves, Hubert takes it up, and goes after the Ladies. Hub. 
What's this, one of her father's Gloves?  
This shall be drawn upon the lucky hand of a thriving plot.  K. 
Behold thy King, thine Bruce, one of the Fathers  
Of these retired factions; Richmond, the King,  
And thine ●ough Leicester; is this still your nest  
Wherein to hatch another scorpion's egg,  
To sting the afflicted bosom of your Country,  
To bruise her sides with the earth-wounding hooves  
Of war-apparelled Horses, whose dreadful neighings  
May fright her pale face to a bloody blush,  
And again make her groan.  Fitz. 
Your pardon sir,  
By my good Sword I knew ye not.  Ches. 
No, if you had,  
Your dangerous Brother Bruce and you, had laid  
Some plot for his sacred person; then pleaded ignorance,  
That ye took him as he seemed, a saucy stranger.  Y. Bru. 
Chester, Thou art not noble in thy c●nsure,  
And fawn'st thyself into the abused favour  
Of the to-credulous King.  Ches. 
Oh temptation, what a devil art thou;  
Now by my blood young man, you court my spleen  
In a vain glorious shape; Chester fawn,  
Just heaven forbid it.  Y. Bru. 
An Axe upon your neck, i just heavens give you●  
And that in heaven were justice—  Ol. Bru. 
Son, you're too full of choler.  Y. Bru. 
Choler, Halter.  Fitz. 
By the mass that's near the choler.  K. 
Upon your lives no more, the King is here;  
Fitzwater, I did not come to quarrel with thee,  
I would have such a good man ever near me,  
And for a flourish to the rest( of whom  
As of old Bruce we have) we will require strict pledges, and  
Fitzwater let thy Daughter live at Court, she shall be kept.  
I'th' custody of the Queen, but as no pledge.  Fitz. 
The Queen is graciove.  K. 
Come, to their ruins leave these turbulent Lords.  Fitz. 
But suppose the Queen should ride abroad to hunt,  
And leave Matilda solitary at home,  
I think the King would come and comfort her.  Ki. 
I am of thy mind, I think he would.  Fitz. 
Would he so?— I would have no one hear.  Takes the K. aside, K. 
They cannot man.  Fitz. 
Pray tell the King, i'll keep my girl at home,  
And comfort her myself.  K. 
You will.  Fitz. 
John, John, now I speak out;  
You made your Masque for this, a Masque indeed,  
And we-aday! that it should prove a Cover  
For such a night of Tempests, such wild affections,  
Such an ill-favoured night.  Enter Hubert. K. 
Hubert, is't done?  Hub. 
Past expectation, I have bettered your plot,  
And got the Queen too,  
And will bring them early in the morning to'th Court.  K. 
Have the torchbearers given fire to the plot?  Hub. 
They mixed with opportunity.  Enter Richmond. Fitz. 
I do not like this whispering,  
Where are the Ladies and Matilda?  Rich. 
The Ladies are at the further side the Castle,  
But by a Glove you sent by a Gentleman,  
That said he served Earl Leicester, that with him  
She and the Queen should fly for safety whither  
You had directed him, glad of any scare,  
They took a Barge, another leapt in after them,  
But whom he was I know not.  Exit. Ol. Bru. 
Sent you a Glove.  Fitz. 
A Glove indeed I miss, but I sent none.  Leis. 
This is a Riddle.  K. 
I will play Oedipus, and expound it for you,  
As Hubert has infused; you droped your Glove,  
Ingenius Hubert found it, and( though we  
Had directed otherwise,) he employed a Gentleman  
Of our own Chamber, one unknown to Matilda,  
To bring it as your close intellige ce  
For her flight with him; he that leapt into' Th' Barge,  
As they put of, was Oxford, now we have her  
Never again to lose her.  Leis. 
By my vexed blood  
King John, this is not honourable.  Enter Richmond. Rich. 
We are betrayed,  
All that bore Torches in the Masque to night,  
Were of the Guard, who upon a received watchword,  
Fell to their Arms, beat down all opposed them,  
And are shaping their course this way.  Y. Bru. 
Let's meet'em,  
We have an injured patience, came death in whirlwinds,  
I'll be the first shall front him; to thy prayers John,  
Pray heartily, that thy friends fatal points  
May pierce these hearts; for if they miss' 'tshall prove  
The bloodiest beauty story ever told  
To fright the Readers souls; a purple cloud  
Shall shadow England, the whole Land shall ●ele,  
The centre gr●a●s, thy very Crown shall stand  
Trembling upon thy Temples, till it fall  
A Mourner at thy fames black funeral.  Exit. Fitz. 
Oh noble Nephew.  Exeunt Barons. K. 
Ha, ha, ha, let 'em rave on; Ingenious Hubert●  
That couldst so swiftly apprehend a smooth  
Path to'th possession of Matilda!  
Quit Oxford from her charge; unto thy care  
The King commends the Mistress of his heart,  
I'th' morning let me see her.  Hu. 
She shall wait upon you sir.  Ches. 
The Barons threaten high sir.  K. 
Let them burst.  
Come Gentlemen, to'th Barge, and so to'th Court,  
To clip our wishes, perils appear sport.  Exeunt.  

Actus 4. Scoena 1.  Enter Brand. Bran. 
I Wonder how my pair of Prisoners fadge?  
I am something dogged too a tother side,  
That thus long have not seen them, nor have they eate●  
I am sure since they came in; in yond madam's eye  
I am as ugly as a Toad, I will see her,  
And contemn her—, you and your brat come out,  Ent. Lady and Boy. 
Here's meat, I am sure you are hungry.  Boy. 
O Mother, will you be sick now?  
Mr. Boand hath brought us meat.  La. 
Oh on my knee sir  
I thank you, not for my want, for I feel  
Nature almost quite vanquished; but for my son;  
He may live long to thank you.  Boy. 
Give but my Mother  
A little piece of bread, and if I live,  
( as yet I may do, if you can be merciful)  
I will tell my Father such good things of you,  
He shall return your kindness treble back  
To your honest bosom; Oh Mother for some bread.  Era. 
Some bread?  
Why to have an honest bosom( as the world goes)  
Is the next way to want bread; i● faith tell me,  
How have you past the time you wanted Victu●●l●?  Lady. 
Very hardly,  
And still the poor Boy sighin●, would say, Mother  
You look very hungry, I did think straight how ha●d  
Your heart was, than we both did fall a-weeping,  
Clinged our lean arms about each others neck,  
And sat a pair of mou●ers.  Bra. 
Delicate pastime, Toads love no other;  
Look ye, here is bread.  Boy. 
Oh if you be a good man, give me but a bit  
To give my Mother, poor soul look how she looks!  
Indeed she's very hungry.  Bra. 
Yes, so is my dog,  Puts it up again. 
I must keep this for his breakfast.  La. 
Give but my boy one bi●,  
And the Saints sure will look how good you are,  
They will be glad to see you charitable,  
And call it excellent compassion.  Bra. 
No, cunning from a Toad 'twill p●yson him.  Boy. 
It will not sir, indeed I am so hungry,  
I could eat Rats or Mice.  Bra. 
Your tother hair brain,  
Your wild mad son, retains my Lord a Prisoner,  
Uses him basely, and you must suffer for't.  Lady. 
Give me but Paper, Pen and ink, i'll wrile,  
And charge him to fall down, and li●k the dust.  
Thy Lord shall set his foot on, I will conjure him:  
And woe away his wildness by the groars  
I su●fer'd for him, I'll threaten his denial  
With a mother's family-consounding curse:  
This I will do, or any thing that may  
But purchase my poor Boy one bit of bread.  Bra. 
No.  La. 
O harder than the Rocks, more merciless  
Than the wild evening Woolf.  falls. Boy. 
Mother do not die,  
For heaven's sake help my Mother; look up  
And ye shall see me dance, and then the Gentleman  
Will sure bestow a piece of bread upon us.  La. 
Look here thou Iron-hearted man. upon  
A palre of piercing miseries.  Bra. 
A scene of mirth;  
I am all hard, the heat of lust which stood  
To clip revenge, we stem a stream of blood.  Exit. Boy. 
How do ye Mother?  La. 
How doth my Boy.  Boy. 
Very sick indeed; but I warrant you are more hungry  
Than I a great deal, are you not?  La. 
Oh no,  
Thou art weak, and famine plays the Tyrant with thee;  
Look here my boy, bite on thy mother's arm,  
The blood will nourish thee.  Boy. 
Will your blood nourish me?  La. 
Yes, yes, I pre●hee try.  Boy. 
Why should not mine then nourish you? 'tis the same;  
Good Mother eat my arm, bite but a bite,  
Truly I shall hurt you if I bite yours,  
I warrant you'll be better presently.  La. 
I shall my son, and so shalt thou, come near me,  
Let us go hand in hand to Heaven.  Boy. 
Oh mother, something pinched my very heart,  
And I shall die, my dear, dear mother.  D●es. Lady. 
Art thou gone my son?  
My soul shall overtake thee: oh friendly death  
That gav'st that gripe, sure when thou killest the guilty,  
Frowns curl thy angry forehead; but when thou stealest  
Towards innocence,( their pale fears to beguile)  Enter Brand reading a Letter. 
Thou deckest thy lean face with a lovely smile.  Dyes. Bra. 
My Lord recovered by the valiant King!  
In all his battles he is fortunate,  
And now tdey shall have meat; ha! meat said I?  
I have made them worms meat;  
Oh what a talking is within me! if I stay,  
The building sure will crush me, i'll ha● to'●h Court,  
My Lord here intimates the King's observance of me,  
I must hence; oh gnilt, thou drawest deaths image horrid,  
When we begin to like our ills, how sweet a face hath sin!  
Which but past by, a cheater she appears,  
Joys are her promise, but she pays us fears.  Exit. Enter Hubert, Queen, and Matilda, a Gentleman. Hub. 
Your care in the conveyance of Matilda  
To this appoited place, the King shall recompense,  
Withdraw yourself.  Gent. 
I shall my Lord.  Exit. Qu. 
Matilda, where's that spirit that kept thy virtue  
Valiant and bold●  Mat. 
If virtue so ill pay us,  
Who would be virtuous?  Hu. 
Virtue! pale poverty  
Reproach, disaster, shame sits on her forehead,  
Despisings fill her sleep●, ill 〈…〉  
Meet her at every turn, tears are her triumphs,  
Her drink affliction, Calumny attends her,  
The unclean tongue of slander daily licks her  
Out of her fashion; but if you be Kings John's friend—  Mat. 
Oh strong temptation.  Qu. 
Matilda—  Hub. 
You may like  
A nimble wind, play on the ruslling bosom  
Of that fantastic wood, the world; your sleeps a paradise  
hung round with glittering dreams, than your dissemblings  
〈…〉 called dev●tions, your rigged 〈◊〉 hypocrisy  
Religions holy heats, mirth dee●● the Court d●i●s,  
The wanton minutes glide just like a stream,  
That eclipse the bosom of a wealthy mead,  
Till't get it great with child, a sweet green blassing.  
Consider, 'tis the King.  Ma. 
Ay, I, the King.  Qu. 
Trust not this tempter, lusts irreligious linguist,  
Remember virtue is a holy flame,  
A sacred inclination of the soul  
To all things honest.  Mat. 
I can resist no longer,  
Oh Hubert, you are a victorious tempter.  Qu. 
Can this be possible?  Hub. 
Forget not, at the beginning  
Of this sweet race, honour hold out for you  
A golden Garland.  Qu. 
Oh remember,  
At the end of chastities white race, an angel  
Holds in his hand( shot through a silver Cloud,)  
A Crown for conquerors.  Hub 
Will ye lose the pleasure that—  Ma. 
Ay, I, those pleasures Hubert, there is a voice  
Of flesh and frailty in me, that still cries,  
Matilda take those pleasures, and I am now  
The Kings for ever.  Qu. 
Let the Queen then cut from earth  
Such a dissembler.  Offers violence to Matil. Hubert stays her. Hub. 
Nay but you shall not.  Qu. 
Shame and death dwell  
With a goodness so short-si●'d, thou handsome hypocrite,  
Thou faith-defrauder, a religious qualm  
Crossing the stomach of a seeming Saint,  
Which falls straight into humoor, all thy devotions  
Prove now but well-clad cheaters of Times Charity,  
Thy griefs, and sighs, are but sins crafty games,  Matilda and Hub. whisper. 
Their soon sp●nt flashes play like holy flames.  Hub. 
It shall be so: to some remote place, shut  
from the danger of the angry Queen i'll carry you,  
And thither bring the King.  Mat. 
I long to see him.  Qu. 
Hubert, wilt thou play the Court Camclion,  
The presumed Pander.  Hub. 
Yes marry will I, Panders have need of perfumes.  Qu. 
Oh merry sin!  
We smile towards Hell, but howl when we are in,  Hub. 
Name but the place Madam, and religiously I vow,  
By th'unstained honour of my Name and Hou●e,  
By the white reputation of a Gentleman,  
And as I wish for after happiness, my care  
Sha●l I see it instantly in execution.  Mat. 
My cousin Bruce, Earl Richmond, with the convoy,  
The King discomfited, they would madly have carried me  
To Dunmow Abbey in fruitful Essex.  Hub. 
S●●oot a thousand Kings  
could not thence recover ye, but name the place  
Whither I shall carry you, good Madam whither?  Mat. 
Good Hubert thither.  Falls on her knees. Hub. 
What to a monastery?  Qu. 
Call her dissembling,  
No ●●nne good heaven, for she is still a Saint.  Mat. 
Upon my knee I beg it, and every day  
When I shall drop a Bead, I'll strongly pray  
That you may find a blessing.  Qu. 
Hark Hubert.  Hub. 
There is something telis me there is honour in it,  
To grant her good request.  Mat. 
Mark how your Oath ran,  
By the honour of your House,  
By the white reputation of a Gentleman.  
And as you wish for after happiness.  
You'd put my wish in speedy execution.  
Oh Hubert mark, he his house pulls down,  
That wounds his honour, though to please a Crown,  
By Heraul'ds he's a Gentleman maintained,  
Whose reputations whiteness stands unstained,  
And he in after happiness stands high,  
That dares not with a sin by sovereignty.  Hub. 
Excellent Oratory!  Qu. 
Hubert, for truth's sake.  Mat. 
Oh Hubert, for the glorious Crown of chastity,  Qu. 
For the victorious palm of Wedlock faith,  Mat. 
By the immaculate souls of holy Maids,  Qu. 
And by the unstained truth of honest wives,  Mat. 
By the tears of Virgins,  Qu. 
By the truth of virtue,  Mat. 
Oh now to honour Hubert give thy name,  
Sweet blooming virtue knows no blush of shame.  Hub. 
The rareness of your souls has ravished me,  
we'll change our course, steer through bridge, and so  
For Essex and for Dunmow, victorious Maid,  
Rhetoric is poor in thy praise, whom a King,  
Nor sovereignty,( the soul of women's longings,)  
Cannot corrupt!— Oh women! Men-subduers!  
Nature's extremes! no mean is to be had;  
Excellent Good, or infinitely bad!  Ambo. 
Most noble Hubert.  Exeunt. Enter King, Fitzwater, Chester and Oxford. K. 
'Twas well yet that the trick has catched this old one,  
Where are the rest?  Ches. 
Richmond is gone for France,  
Leicester escaped to Windsor.  K. 
How I thirst  
To make mine arms walthy with sweet Matilda.  Fitz. 
Oh if a father's prayers, an old man's tears,  
An injured old man's tears, were ever prevalent,  
Good heaven keep my girl a crystal Fort,  
Firm and unvuanquished.  K. 
Hubert my friend now has her:  
Will it please the mighty Emporor of the Barons,  
The King may kiss Matilda, she will be here presently,  
Then● shall the great Fitzwater sit in state,  
And see Matilda and the poor King dally,  
And teach the winds to wanton; Hubert now has her,  
The faithfulest of my friends, from contrari●ties  
We will produce soft pleasures, sweet perfections;  
Sir●ah, Chester shall tell me when she then frowns, and  
we'll Court her checks into a comely smile;  
If she but raise that milky hill, her breast,  
With respirations, Oxford shall swear  
it is a sigh, and I will seem to chide  
His rashness, and protest love raised that gale,  
Just as her heart for my heart had set sale.  Fitz. 
Hear heaven!  K. 
Chester shall watch her when she weeps, and tell me  
They are Matilda', tears, when I will presently  
With a lover's pleasing fervency, protest  
They are Pearls, by passion forced from Cupid's Chest.  Oxf. 
But what shall Hubert do,  
Your bosom friend?  Ki. 
He shall with pretty thwarting passages  
( To please Matilda,) seem to make me angry,  
And tell me'tis impossible now t'obtain her;  
Whereupon( impatient, to illustrate love  
With a new passion) oh how I will rave!  
Misuse him strangely, and close up the sweet Sco●ne  
Upon Matilda's lip.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
Letters from th'Earl Hubert sir,  K. 
His name but now,  
( Like a beloved passenger,) took leave  
Of my unwilling lips, he waits directions  
Concerning her from me, good Chester read it,  
I cannot read and rejoice too, Fitzwater  
Listen, and rave.  Chester reads. 
Letter. May it please your excellent majesty, it hath, pleased heaven so throughly to captivate my reason by the potent pleadings of your virtuous Queen, and unmatched Matilda, that I hold it now impossible for your majesty ever to obtain her.  K. 
Ha!  Fitz. 
That last was music.  K. 
Nay kill us all, kill us all; will ye read on sir?  
Let.  
Briefly, by that time these Letters kiss your royal hands, she will be cloistered up in Dunmow Abbey, and end her days a vestal, whither I could not choose but convey her, being thereunto forcibly charmed by her tears and entreaties, and especially forced by a secret command from heaven to mine own conscience; I remain your most excellent majesty's transgressing servant  
Hubert.  K. 
Most excellent villain!  Fitz. 
Observe King John, ere heaven will virtue fail,  
Contrary means, all winds shall fill her sail.  Ches. 
How like a Hare, the Greyhounds chaps still at her,  
Yet still she escapes! the King is full of tempest.  K. 
She's gone for ever.  
Oh Hubert let us never meet again,  
Never more meet; Fitzwater fetch herbut back,  
As from the first, so from this Isabella  
we'll be divorced, marry and set Matilda  
I'th' regal chair, the King's admired Mistress.  Fitz. 
But will ye say and do sir?  K. 
Yet there is hope; now by my Crown I will,  
We shall be son and Father, thou and I  
Will walk upon our palace battlements,  
And thou shalt carry up a covetous eye,  
And thou shalt cast that covetous eye about  
The fair, delightful village-spotted valleys,  
Thou shalt stand still, and think, and recollect  
The troubled longings of thy large desires,  
And whatsoever thou shalt ask the King,  
( Of all thou seeest) the King shall give it thee.  Fitz. 
Well, let one one ride before, and certify  
That we are coming.  K. 
Chester, put on wings:  To himself. 
Thou good old man, the bird that croaked now sings.  Exeunt  

Actus 5. Scoena 1.  Enter King and Fitzwater, Oxford meeting them. K. 
THese are the abbey walls, Oxford what news?  Ox. 
Matilda is afraid to venture forth,  
But on yond battlements it was her promise,  Ent. Abbess and Matilda above. 
With the Lady Abbess to appear— and see sir.  K. 
Give us leave● Oh were that habit  
Not so unkind, a foe to fair increase,  
I'd call it then celestial, and swear.  
A bright star moved in that immaculate sphere:  
Matilda! Mistress of many Graces!  
And lovely as the blush that breaks the day!  
Cast thy commanding eyes upon a King,  
Whom love hath made a beggar;  Ab. 
Why hunts the King  
With such a violent poursuit, a chaste Dove,  
That hath given up her name to heaven, and stands  
White as her spotless vesture.  Fitz. 
Lady abbess,  
Pray give me leave, and hearken my Matilda,  
I bring thee gol●n news my girl, we have cast  
An ill-becomming calumny upon  
The King's love all this while; for he protest●  
To be divorced from Isabella the Queen,  
And by marriage set thee in his B●d,  
A plant to spring and prosper; women naturally  
Do aflect sovereignty; wilt thou run retrograde  
In 〈◊〉 fair zodiac? though all ways yet  
Have failed, this will take I am sure.  To the King. Mat. 
Who hath taught my Father  
To tum Apostate to that integrity  
Slept in his noble breast? through a divorce  
I run to golden ruin; the King marry me?  K. 
And make thee Queen of him, and two large Kingdoms,  
The Christian world when they shall hear, shall wonder,  
And magnify in their abundant praises,  
The glory of our Marriage.  Mat. 
Oh my Lord, here I can call necessity,  
Excellent Pyhsick for a vast desire,  
Our wants are holy waters, cast on lust's fire.  Fitz. 
Oh brave, brave girl!  
That I had thee here to buss thee,  
Her very breath did smell of heaven.  K. 
Matilda!  Fitz. 
I have found thee Gold my girl,  
These are glorious wrestlings,  
Celestial strugglings; passion of me, that joy  
Should carry April eyes.  weeps. K. 
Matilda, Look upon thy sovereign courting,  
Thy cruelty with a pair of wooing eyes,  
Labouring for mercy.  Fitz. 
No, no, Matilda, look upon thy sovereign,  
Thy chastity with tempting wanton eyes,  
Labouring in lust.  K. 
Thou man of rude defects, let me alone.  Fitz. 
Thou man of wild desires, let me alone.  K. 
Ha!  Fitz. 
Tut, tut, I know whose Cause I have in hand,  
And neither has nor hems can fright plain Robin,  
The wound that foolish love-Boy there( what call ye him?)  
Had struck your heart with, because your smooth tongue,  
You could not come to supple it, as the Dog does his foot,  
With fair fine words you could lick me, and then  
Lift me to stroke it, and heal it by attorney,  
He steers not steady that delights to roam,  
Craft sets out swift, but ever comes short home:  
I tell ye truth I.  K. 
abbess, deliver up Mattlda,  
Or with an Army filled with Ruffians, ravishers,  
The very sons of darkness, we will level  
This building to the bottom.  A. 
We know the King,  
( Being reconciled unto his mother Church,)  
●annot conceive such outrage.  Appears passionate Fitz. 
Now ye stamp, do ye.  Mat. 
Father farewell, and to my Lord my King,  
The service of his most obseq●●ous handmaid,;  
And good your majesty be ●l●as'd to remember,  
How excellently-admirable your Crown  
Will then become ye, when you shall ●ast off  
The habit of your passions, I will pray for you sir,  
And if't be possible with prayers and tears,  
Quench your de●res, and fortify my fears.  Exit. Fitz. 
A father's blessing, like a welcome cloud  
With child of friendly showers, hover o'er thy goodness,  
And keep it evergreen—; she is gone sir.  K. 
Go thou and run into the Sea.  Fitz. 
Ha, ha, So the great Emperor of the Ba●rons,  
As you called him,  
May come out aagin i'th' guts of a poor John:  
No, no, I will live and laugh, you would have made her  
The Mistress of the King, and she is married  
To the King's Master, oh to the noblest King  
Poor supplicant ever kneeled to, to your King,  
And her King, and to my King she's married;  
Oh married, married, let the Satyrs dance it,  
The sweet Birds sing it, let the winds be wanton,  
And as they softly with an evening whisper,  
Steal through the curled locks of the lofty woods,  
Let them in their sweet language seem to say,  
This, this was chaste Matilda's Marriage day.  Exit Fitz. K. 
It resolved irrevocable; who waits?  Enter Chester. Ches. 
Sir?  Enter Confessor. K. 
Have an eye upon that Fox; where's our Confessor?  Con. 
Attending sir.  K. 
Your ear— do this,  Con. 
I shall sir.  K. 
And hark you, without all expostulation, speedily  
Make Brand the Instrument.  Con. 
I shall not fail sir.  Exit. K. 
All my blood turns, she is now past all recovery;  
Oh day draw in thy light, Time do not keep  
This Deed for story; Memory fall asleep  
In black oblivions Cavern; let this day  
Still skip the Kalend, and be wiped away  
From all discourse; oh let no chaste Maid.  
( Remembering how Matilda was betrayed,)  
With bitter tears, curse the too cruel King;  
No satire dance this day, no sweet bird sing,  
But let the Raven and Screcth. Owl cry,  
Matilda the chaste Maid, must this day die.  Exit. Enter Brand and the abbess reading a Letter. 
Lett.  
Madam,  
These are to giye you to understund, that instantly, and without any the least expostulation, you see convey'n into the outward Garden adjoining to the abbey, your new Votary Matilda, that the bearer( this Gentleman) may without the least interception, have freedom of access unto her; let this from me be your safety, and forget not, the wills of Princes are indisputable—  
Fustace Confessor to his majesty.  Ab. 
No, no, no cloud of niceness, order, or regularity,  
Must intercept this Mandate; Sir, the Kings will,  
The Confessors advertisement, and your hopes,  
Shall meet this minute; but virtue is I hope  
The Rudder of your voyage.  Bra. 
I tell you Madam, 'tis unspotted truth,  
The King is changed so excellent, such a lover  
Now of Matilda's noble constancy,  
That therefore as his( Confessor there certifies,)  
Your duty is expected  
To work my admittance to her, which is only  
To let her know, how heartily his majesty  
Admires and commends her.  Ab. 
'tis a joyful hearing,  Enter Matilda. 
See where she walks, souls ●o heavenly simple,  
It seems the Court digests not, and( being cloyed,)  
Commends them to the cloister.  Exit. Bra. 
And she be so simple,  
She's the fit for the Saints, things I near think of,  
Unless to stuff our similes— excellent Lady.  
There's such a deal of heaven in her face,  
It makes my black soul tremble— excellent Lady,  Ma. 
Your will sir.  Bra. 
To let you understand the will of him,  
Whose will the will of heaven hath new made;  
Thus said King John in brief, tell that sweet Saint,  
( And there he wept as I do at the thought on't)  weeps. 
The immaculate Mistress of my dear devotions.  
The King by this( with her eye not unacquainted)  
Commends to her his hate of all that love,  
The favour of his blood contaminated:  
Oh tell her( and he sighed there bitterly)  
That as I was her tempter, I am now  
Mine own despiser; as mine own despiser,  
I will remain her virtues strong admirer;  
And there just thus he kissed it—; if't chance, quoth he,  
Her gentle lip return the King's chaste meaning,  
Mark but which place of this( Than happy( Glove  
Receives that heavenly print, and bring it back,  
That my lips there( like a pair of willing Pilgrims)  
May pay my hearts devotions. This was all,  
And this, his Glove, the Token.  Mat. 
Excellence Change!  
Heaven now hath heard my prayers, return his goodness;  
I am sorry thou hast kissed the Glove before me,  
For fear thy lips have lain where the Kings did,  
And cozened mine of that grace fell from them,  
When he spoke things thus good, Give me the Glove.  Bra. 
Ha: He looks towards the Garden door, and whilst she turns herself that way, he changes the Glove, and gives her the other poisoned.  Mat. 
Thy looks made me believe, that some were coming.  Bra. 
No Madam, I have cozened you, 'twas but the wind.  Mat. 
No wind shall keep my duty from his majesty  
With my observance; say thus, I returned  Kisses the poisoned Glove. 
My love of his great goodness; and if he ask thee  
How I received the news of his rare change,  
Say, as a teeming soil after a drought,  
Welcomes a wished for shower: what a strange sent  
Strongly beats up into my brains, while I hold this Glove  
So near my breast! thou art not honest sure?  Bra. 
Near death we prophesy, and 'tis so sure,  
You cannot breathe three minutes.  Mat. 
Ha!  Bra. 
'tis neatly done, and there's no dallying,  
I know 'tis strong and swift, as by a Glove  
You were carried from your Fathers to this cloister,  
So by a Glove you are from this cloister sent  
To the chaste Court of Saints.  Mat. 
Heaven! is this right?  Bra. 
No, 'twas a left-handed Glove, look ye,  
I kissed the right and cozened you,  
So that a sinister act with a left-handed Glove, very prettily  
Imports a wittiness in wickedness.  Mat. 
Thou art a merry murderer, the King was wont  
To call me friend; oh if he bestows  
On's friends such gifts, what sends he to his foes?  
Uncharitable love-token; oh what harsh hand  
Temperd this dram of death.  Bra. 
I could do't no better.  Mat. 
Merciless man, tigers to thee are tame;  
Oh cozening crocodile, that with thy tears couldst take me●  
How wilt thou house  
When thou and I meet next? when I shall sit  
Above my sufferings, then will my blood be  
A cloud betwixt eternity and thee.  Bra. 
Clouds? yes, much clouds.  Mat. 
There was the last call; to the King, commend me,  
And tell him, when in stories he shall stand,  
When men shall read the Conquerors great name,  
Voluptuous Rusus, that unkind brother Beaucla●k,  
Comely King Steven, Henry the Wedlock-breaker,  
And lion-hearted Richard; when they come  
unto his name, with sighs it shall be said,  
This was King John— the murderer of a Maid;  
Oh tell him I am past his strong temptations,  
And though wild burning backed his hot desire,  
Like perfect Gold I did outlive the fire.  Dyes. Bra. 
She's dead and I must shift for one,  
I hear some trampling,  Enter young Bruce. 
What's he has leapt the Garden walls? has awenching look,  
And should be a good Vaulter, guilty knaves make excellent  
Eves droppers, and I love to sound strange bosoms, I will lie  
To see and hear, and yet not heard nor seen,  stands aside. Y. Bru. 
Here rumour gives, my cousin, chaste Matilda  
To live a Votary: ha! on the ground!  
Murdered most certainly, and so warm, that yet  
The murderer at my approach, may lurk  
About the Garden, for through the Abbey 'tis  
Impossible to pass; oh my grieved blood,  
Who made it so unfortunate to be good.  Bra. 
He mumbles something to himself.  Y. Bru. 
This parallels my Mother and my Brother:  
Ha! something sti●s i'th' Grove, passion I know thee not,  
With a new art we must catch old bloodhounds: well,  
Although I am the Kings well-wishing friend,  
And have raised forces for his part at Windsor,  
Yet with my heart I am glad, a friendly hand  
Hath ma thee happy.  Bra. 
'Sfoot this is one of our side,  
But it seems he knows not 'twas the King's injunction.  Y. Bru. 
Now business will be minded, state affairs,  
With vigilance effected, which before  
Were so entangled in your hair forsooth,  
Suitors could find no end of their beginnings.  Bra. 
By this light I have done a good deed.  Y. Bru. 
Thou honest soul,  
That( by the heat of thy happy hany-work,)  
Canst not I am sure but be in hearing; If  
My irregular start( upon private necessity)  
Frighted thee off, be not ashamed to let  
Thy unknown friend possess thee.  Bra. 
Oh braze young spark.  Y. Eru. 
Or if thy modesty must keep thee off,  
So well I love thy work( and as I the Kingdom)  
Let this Purse of Gold, this Diamond fastened to't,  
Tell thee thy friend was here, if thoul'dst know him,  
He is a kinsman to the Earl of Chester;  
And because thou shalt not doubt thy friends fair meanings,  
I will return the way I came, although  
With danger to my person.  Bra. 
Here is one sir, wishes better to his friends.  Y. Bru. 
What art thou?  Shows himself. Bra. 
One that will take your honoorable Purse,  
And yet pass quit at the Common Law.  Y. Bru. 
Wert thou the expert Master of this piece.  Bra. 
You being kinsman to my Lord and Master,  
( Who ever hated this blood;) I dare tell you,  
I practi●'d first a business late at Windsor,  
Upon a Mother and her son—  Y. Bru. 
Hold heart, old Bruce's Lady,  
And the brat her son?  
Were't thou the happy instrument  
To cut these Houses down? didst thou do that?  Bra. 
It would deserve( well prized) another Purse sir.  Y. Bru. 
Gold must not part us, didst do't?  Gives him more Gold. Bra. 
Both that and this, by this stand sir.  Y. Bru. 
Son of the devil have I sound thee?  Bra. 
Sure he knows me.  Y. Bru. 
Fool, dost thou draw a sword;  
What a loud lie thou dost give heaven, to think  
A sword can shield the guilty, look here villain  
Upon my horrid point, where death in tempest  
And whirlwinds, stares upon thee, thou murderer:  
Of my Mother, Brother, and my Kinswoman.  Bra. 
S'root here was a Purse with a bob at the end on't,  
Pray take your Purse again.  Y. Bru. 
Toad, I will take thy heart first.  Bra. 
I deny nothing then,  
Resolution crowns my craft; for those at Windsor,  
( Let me free the King) I ●ami●●'d them, because  
Your Mother was too coy, you may guess the rest;  
For this it was King John's in junction,  
And I have done it daintily by this light.  Y. Bru. 
By darkness and ●er Angels,  
Thy near kinsmen,  
Thou shalt not live five minutes for't.  They fight, Bran● falls, young Bruce keeps him down. Bra. 
O sir, what mean ye?  Y. Bru. 
To ask thee for a Mother, a sweet Brother,  
A chaste kinswoman; oh that thou couldst be  
Ten days a dying; Slave! i'll stick thy trunk  
So thick with wounds, it shall appear a Book  
Full of red Letters,  
Characters of thy cruelty  stabs him. Bra. 
This is no bleeding month fir.  Y. Bru. 
Thou liest, look yonder;  
There lies mine almanac, a celestial body,  Points to Matilda's Course. Stabs. 
Whose revolution, period, pale aspect,  
All tell me'tis high time that thou shouldst bleed.  Bra. 
Oh.  Y. Bru. 
Thy veins are all corruption,  
Toads belch not fouler;  
And should thy trunk be thrown upon a dunghill,  
( As it deserves no better burial)  
The scent would poison swine, the very dogs  
Would with howlings fly as from a midnight ●end,  
And every Raven that should 〈◊〉 upon't,  
Would seek forsaken Deserts, and there die  
Full of infection.  Stabs. Bra. 
Oh that last has finished me,  
And where I go I know not, a bloody Cloud  
Hath hid heaven from me like a purple shroud.  Dyes. Y. Bru. 
Feast thou the Crows,  
This body i'll convey to Windsor, where my Mother,  
And my sweet murdered Brother, we'll expose  
( As spurs of righteous vengeance) to all eyes;  
Conscience, and Blood, are strong incessant cries.  Exit. Enter King and Lords below, old Bruce, Leicester Oxford and Fitzwater above. Charge. K. 
You sons of death and disobedience;  
Why is the King kept out?  Ol. Bru. 
You shall know sir;  
Is't not enough the whole Lands Liberties  
Lie yet a-gasping by your head strong passions,  
Wounded by your neglect, but through blood  
D'●e chase your vast desires, my Wife and son sir.  K. 
A game as we are Prince, in our royal word,  
The villain past our precept.  Ol. Bru. 
As you past heavens  
In your bloody masking night at Baynard's Castle,  
When all the floors, and the white walls wore bloody  
Deep crimson blushes, to behold a Prince  
In blood pursue his passions.  K. 
Bared out and braved,  
You bate and chafe a lion; bring old Fitzwater,  
Thou Bruce and grumbling Leicester, either speedily  
Give up the Castle, and upon your knees  
Fall to the mercy you have scorned, or here  
Before a pair of minutes pass, the sword  
Of incensed justice shall even in your eyes,  
Leave this old rebel headless.  Fitz. 
Now by the blood  
I lost in holy Palestine with Richard,  
Oh that right real soldier! King John I swear,  
That foul-word Rebel ha●unrivited  
The ba●s of reason, and made me very angry;  
Is it to take truths part to be a Rebel?  
To ease my groaning Country, is that Rebellion?  
To preserve the unstained honour of a Maid,  
( And that maid my daughter) to preserve your glory,  
That you stand not branded in our Chronicles,  
By the black name of Wedlock-breaker; is this  
( Good, heaven!) is this Rebellion? Come, come, the Axe;  
Oh that wronged soul to death so falsely given,  Ent. Mowbra● 
Flies sweetly singing her own truth to heaven.  Mow. 
Stand on your guard-sir,  
Young Bruce with twenty thousand  
Strong able men from Cambridge and Essex,  
With a speedy march, and with as dreadful threatenings,  
Comes thundering towards Windsor, all his Ensigns  
Crimson and black, which in their want●n wavings,  
Cry to the frighted Country( as he marches)  
Nothing but blood and d●ath.  Ol. Bru. 
Oh noble son of a murpered M●ther.  Leis. 
Honourable young man.  K. 
Draw up our forces like a pair of angry winds,  
That have got a hollow Cloud with child of tempests,  
we'll make the valleys tremble.  Enter Chester. Ches. 
Resist now sir,  
Or the whole kingdom trembles, ●ewis the Dolphines  
By th'politique working of ingenius Richmond,  
( Who was sent for him) with six hundred sail,  
And fourscore Flat-boats is let in at Dover,  
Subduing as they march, and the Towns willingly  
Givin●●hem way; they have reached Rochester,  
And if a speedy swift prevention meet not,  
They will for London certainly.  Leis. 
Now John thy Crown sits quivering.  Ches. 
These here so resolute—  Mow. 
Yowg Bruce so potent—  Ox●. 
And which strikes deep, a factious foreign foot  
Upon our earth, 'tis a dangerous triplcity,  
So that our Forces were they three times trebled,  
( Distracted with a division thus trianguler)  
Cannot promise safety.  K. 
Take it not Time, for now  
The goodliest Oak in the whole wood must bow.  Fitz. 
Oh that was very well said sir, nor shall ye bow,  
But unto heaven and virtue, for Kings have boasted  
To be her servants; oh in this tempest sir,  
Give her the helm, good brother Bruce, the King  
Has faithfully acquitted him of the bloods  
Of your Wife and son,; Leicester, the King now looks  
Upon his passions with a displeased eye,  
Trust to our faith's sir, give the Land her Liberties,  
And do but look upon my poor Matilda.  K. 
Oh, oh.  Fitz. 
With Kingly chaste eyes; and a holy soul;  
My brother shall command his son to obedience,  
Leicester and he shall give ye up the Castle,  
We will call Richmond with his powers from Lewis,  
We will be all one soul again, and force  
The skipping French to put to Sea again,  
And you shall stand a King then absolute;  
Good brother Leicester, sir upon my knee,  
I urge your goodness now; shall we still stand  
And chain our freedoms to a foreign hand?  
When we shun seen Rocks, than we safely sail;  
Good, good, King John, let the old man prevail.  K. 
Oh Chester run to Dunmow, and if Brand yet  
Have kept his hand whi●e, bid that Brand forbear,  
For fear of burning everlastingly.  Ches. 
I shall sir.  Exit. K. 
Mowbray, with the bendings of the King,  
Go meet that angry young man Bruce, and tell him,  
Here's now no use for steel.  Mow. 
'Twill be good news sir.  K. 
Meet us at least( you stubborn men,)  
In our facile affections:  
Why send ye not for Richmond? must we bend, and  
And beseech too?  Leis. 
Pass but your Royal promise  
In the words of a King, to perform what  
you're fled from, the wind not with more swiftness,  
Shall fly to play with Richmond's lofty Plume,  
Then shall be shown in his repeal.  K. 
'Tis granted upon our Kingly word— that time in me,  
shall read that Giants force necessity!  Ol. Bru. 
With all submissive reverence we descend,  
And kiss your highness' hand.  Fitz. 
Right happy day,  
My girl is safe, and all clouds blown away.  Exeunt from the walls Oboes sound, whilst the Barons descend, each on his knee kissing the King's hand, both Parties joyfully embrace; suddenly the oboes cease and a sad music of Flutes heard. Enter to the King and Lords, the Lady Abbess, Ushering Matilda's hearse, born by Virgins, this Motto fasmed unto it— To Piety and Chastity. The Body of Matilda lying on the hearse, and attended by the Queen, bearing in her hand a Garland, composed of Roses and lilies; after her, young Bruce, Hubert, Chester, and other Gentlemen, all in mourning habits. 

The Song in parts.  

1  
Look what Death hath done! here laid  
( In one) a Martyr, and a Maid.   

2.  
Angel's Crown Those with just applause.  
Die in defence of virtue's laws.   

Chorus  
Such was her cause! Death! boast not of thy hands●  
Cruelty, since the vanquished victor stands.   

2.  
Her Chastity, to Time shall last  
Like Laurel, which no lightning can blast.   

1.  
Sweet Maids, with Roses deck her hearse,  
Whose virtue stands above the reach of Verse.   

Chorus  
Heaven hath her pure part, whilst on Earth, ●her Name  
Moves in the sphere of aresulgent Fame.    K. 
Hubert interpret this Apparition.  Hub. 
Behold sir,  
A sad writ Tragedy so ferlingly,  
Languaged, and cast, with such a crafty cruelty,  
Contrived and acted, that wild Savages,  
Satyrs, and the rude rabble of the Woods,  
Would weep to lay their ears to, and( admiring  
To see themselves out done) they would conceive  
Their wildness, mildness to this deed, and call  
Men more than Savage, themselves rational;  
And thou Fitzwater, reflect upon thy name,  
And turn the son of tears, oh forget  
That Cupid ever spent a dart upon thee,  
That Hymen ever coupled thee, or that ever  
The hasty, happy, willing messenger,  
Told thee thou hadst a Daughter; oh look here,  
Look here King John, and with a tembling eye,  Unveils her face. 
Read your sad act, Matilda's Tragedy.  Om. 
Matilda!  Fitz. 
By the labouring soul of a much injured man,  
It is my child Matilda.  Cue 
Oh cruel King, go ●ate thy bloody eye  
With thy black command, which there lies executed.  Ol. Bru. 
Sweet niece,  Leis. 
Chaste soul,  Y. Bru. 
King, go and read thy cruelty.  K. 
Do I stir Chester?  
Good Oxford, do I move? stand I not still  
To watch the when the grieved friends of dead Matilda,  
Will with a thousand stabs turn me to dust?  
That in a thousand preys they may be happy;  
Will no one do't? then give a mourner room,  Falls passionately upon the hearse. 
A man of tears; oh immaculate Matilda,  
These she'd but sailing heat drops, missing showers,  
The faint dews of a doubtful April-morning;  
But from mine eyes, ship-sincking Ca●aracts,  
Whold clouds of waters, wealthy exhalations  
Shall fall into the Sea of my affliction,  
Till it amaze the Mourners.  Hub. 
Unmatched Matilda,  
Celestial soldier that keepest a Fort of Chastity  
'Gainst all temptations.  Fitz. 
Not to be a Queen  
Would she break her chaste vow, truth crowns your reed,  
Unmatched Matilda was her name indeed.  K. 
Oh take into your spirit-piercing praise,  
My scene of sorrow; I have well-clad woes,  
Pathetic epithets to illustrate passion,  
And steal true tears so sweetly from all these,  
' 'tshall touch the soul, and at one pierce and please.  Ches. 
What will he do?  The Ki. takes the Garland from the Queen, and peruses the Motto of the hearse. K. 
To pretty and Purity, and lilies mixed with Roses.  
How well you have apparelled woe, this pendant  
To Piety and Purity directed,  
Insinuates a chaste soul in a clean body:  
Virtues white Virgin, Chastities red Martyr,  
Suffer me then with this well-suited wreath,  
To make our griefs ingenious, let all be dumb,  
Whilst the King speaks her Epicedium.  Ches. 
His very soul speaks sorrow.  Ox. 
And it becomes him sweetly.  K. 
Hail Maid and Marty! lo on thy breast,  
Devotions Alter, chaste truths chest,  
I offer( as my guilt imposes)  
Thy merit's Laurel, lilies and Roses,  
Lilies, intimating plain,  
Thy immaculate life stuck with no stain;  
Roses red, and sweet, to tell  
How sweet red sacrifices smell;  Sets the Garland on her breast. 
Hang round then as you walk about this hearse,  
The songs of holy hearts, sweet, virtuous verse,  Fitz. 
Bring Persian silks to deck her Monument,  K. 
Arabian spices quick'ning by their scent.  Fitz. 
Numidian Marble to preserve her praise,  K. 
Corinthian Ivory her sweet shape to raise.  Fitz. 
And write in gold upon it, in this breast,  
Virtue sat Mistress passion but a guest;  K. 
Virtue is sweet, and since griefs bitter be.  
Strew her with Roses, and give Rue to me.  Ol. Bru. 
My noble Brother, I have lost a Wife and Son,  
You a sweet Daughter, look on the King's penitence,  
His promise for the kingdoms peace, perfer  
A public benefit. When it shall please,  
Let heaven question him, let us secure,  
And quit the Land of Lewis.  Fitz. 
Do any thing,  
Do all things that are honourable, and the great King,  
Make you a good King sir; and when your soul.  
Shall at any time reflect upon your follies,  
Good King John weep, weep very heartily,  
It will become you sweetly, at your eyes  
Your sin stole in, there pay your sacrifice.  K. 
Back unto Dunmow abbey, where we'll pay  
To sweet Matilda's memory and her sufferings,  
A monthly obsequy, which( Sweetened by  
The wealthy woes of a tear-troubled eye)  
Shall by those sharp afflictions of my face,  
Court Mercy, and make Grief 〈…〉  
Let my wild errors, tell to time this truth;  
Wh●l'st passion holds the Helm, Reason and Honour.  
Do suffer wrack; but they sail safe, and clear,  
Who constantly by virtue's compass steer.  

Song.  

1.  
MAtilda! Now go take thy Bed,  
In the dark dwellings of the dead.   

2.  
And rise in the great Waking-day,  
Sweet as Incense, fresh as May.   

1.  
Rest thou chaste soul,( Fixed in thy proper sphere,)  
Amongst heaven's fair Ones; All are fair ones there.   

Cho.  
Rest there chaste soul, whilst we( here troubled) say,  
Time gives us Griefs, Death takes our joys away.    Exeunt omnes.