Queen Catharine: OR, THE Ruins of Love. A TRAGEDY, As it is Acted at the New THEATRE in Little-Lincolns-Inn-Field, BY His MAJESTY's Servants.  
Written by Mrs. Pix.  
LONDON, Printed for William Turner, at the White Horse without, and Richard Basset, at the Mitre within, Temple-Bar. MDCXCVIII.   

To the Honourable Mrs COOK of Norfolk.  
Madam,  
DID not some of the brightest and best our Sex can boast of Encourage Attempts of this kind, the snarling Cynics might prevail and cry down a diversion, which they themselves participate, though their ill Nature makes them grumble at their Entertainment, but when they shall see this Glorious name in the Front, when they shall know a Lady beloved by Heaven and Earth, Mistress of all Perfections, the bounteous Powers give, or human nature is Capable to receive: when, I say they understand you protect, and like Innocent Plays, they must Acquiesce and be forced to own so much goodness, cannot choose amiss. Queen Catharine, who tasted the Vicissitudes of Fate, will now forget her sufferings, and under such a Noble Patroness remain fixed in lasting Glory; and if my weak Pen has failed in the Character of that Great Princess: now I've made her an ample recompense, for where could I have found a Lady of a more illustrious descent, or more Celebrated for her Virtues? The name of Cary Graces all our English Chronicles and is adorned with the greatest Honours; yet that Noble stock did ne'er produce a lovelier branch than your fair self, and as if Heaven Correspondent to our wishes, designed you its peculiar blessings, you are given to a Gentleman, of whom we may venture to say, he merits even you? Oh! may you appear many, many succeeding years, the bright Examples of Conjugal Affection, and shame that barefaced Vice out of Countenance, which breaks the Marriage Vows without a blush: May you still remain blessed in each other, pleased to see your Beauties and your Virtues renewed in your Charming Race, whilst the admiring World shall wonder at your happiness, and reform in hopes to obtain some of those blessings. May every thing contribute to your continual satisfaction, and amongst your more solid Joys, give me leave, Madam, to hope this trifle may find a vacant hour, when you will deign to peruse it, and be so good to forgive the Author's presumption in laying it at your feet.  
I could not, without a plain Contradiction to the History, punish the Instruments that mademy Lovers unhappy; but I know your Ladyship will trace Richard the Third into Bosworth Field, and find him there, as wretched as he made Queen Catharine.  
I dare not add more, knowing how unworthy all I have said, or can say, is of you; therefore shall only reiterate my Prayers for your lasting Happiness, and beg to subscribe myself,  
Madam, The humblest of your Ladyship's admirors, and Most obedient Servant, Mary Pix.   

PROLOGUE:  Spoken by Mr. Batterton. 
'TIS grown so hard a Task to please the Town,  
We scarce can tell what Prologue will go down:  
But right or wrong a Prologue must be writ,  
A dull one sometimes may divert the Pit,  
Substantial dullness does as well as wit.  
For if you laugh, what matter whence the mirth,  
Whether from plenty of the Wit, or dearth?  
A heavy English Tale to day, we show  
As e'er was told by Holinshed or Stow,  
Shakespeare did oft his Country's worthies choose,  
Nor did they by his Pen their Lustre lose.  
Hero's revive through him, and Hotspur's rage,  
Doubly adorns and animates the Stage:  
But how shall Woman after him succeed,  
And what excuse can her presumption plead.  
Who with enervate voice dares wake the mighty dead;  
To please your martial men she must despair,  
And therefore Courts the favour of the fair:  
From huffing Hero's she hopes no relief,  
But trusts in Catharine's Love, and Isabella's grief.   

EPILGOVE:  Written by Mrs. Trotter. Spoken by Miss Porter. 
WHat Epilogues are made, for who can tell,  
'Twere worth the pains to write and speak'em well.  
If they could gain your favour for bad Plays,  
But by their merit you'll condemn or praise:  
'Tis but a form, no matter then by whom,  
Or what is said, and therefore I am come.  
I, who no partial Voice can hope t' engage,  
No graces of my own, nor of the Stage:  
But tho' I cannot yet expect to move,  
Or merit either your applause or love:  
Sure practising so young I may improve.  
That's all I come for: what's the Play to me,  
And since I'm here, I think I'll let you see,  
What you're to hope, I may hereafter be.  
Come, a short taste of some Heroic now?  
But do not trust me, no, for if you do,  
By all the furies and the flames of Love:  
By Love, which is the hottest burning Hell,  
I'll set you both on fire to blaze for ever.  
How was that done, I'll swear it pleases me,  
And tho' I came careless of your decree,  
If favouring, or against our Tragedy,  
Methinks I'm now grown tender of its fate,  
Who knows but I may come to act Queen Kate.   

THE Actors Names.  
Edward the Fourth. 
Mr. Scudamore.  Duke of Clarence 
Mr. Verbruggen.  Duke of Gloucester 
Mr. Arnold.  Earl of Warwick 
Mr. Kynnaston.  Malavill 
Mr. Bayly.  Citizens, Guards, etc. 
  Owen Tudor 
Mr. Batterton,  Lord Dacres 
Mr. Freeman.  Sir James Thyrrold 
Mr. Thurmond.   

WOMEN.  Queen Catharine 
Mrs. Barry.  Isabella her Ward 
Mrs. Bracegirdle.  Esperanza Woman to Isabel 
Mrs. Martin.  Ladies of Honour. 
    

ACT the First.  

Scene the First.  Enter Edward iv Duke of Gloucester, Earl of Warwick, and several Lords, as rising from Council. Edw. 
NOble are your resolves, my worthy Friends:  
Yes! we will meet again this Warlike Queen,  
Who wields herself the Sword, and gives the Distaff  
To the Effeminate and Holy Henry:  
My Lord of Warwick, Guide and Father now,  
Ever Unconquered leader of the War!  
You saw, your Eyes beheld the fall of York,  
Made a short promise to his mounting spirit,  
That you would still assist his daring Sons.  
The dying Hero at the assurance smiled,  
Pleased, and secured, he left this Earth to us.  
With Warwick on our side, what Foe can shock us,  
So Guarded, even Giants to our Souls  
Appear like Infants, and can move no terror.  
Shall then a Woman, a rash giddy Woman,  
Oppose the Force and Arm of Hercules?  
O Vanity!  Warw. 
Vain are indeed these Words; go, Royal Edward,  
Pour on the fairer Sex thy Oily speeches,  
Joined with thy goodly Person, there they can't  
Fail of Success; but give me trust, not flattery.  
The rule of Sacred Justice be thy word?  
As well in virtue, as in name be King;  
And than if I forsake thee, may this Arm,  
To which I own the Power of executing  
Your Noble Orders in the dusty field,  
Be lost, and all the Courage that inspires it.  Edw. 
I'm hushed, the talking Genius now is silent,  
Listening to those great Oracles you utter.  Enter Clarence. War. 
Here comes Clarence, like a Bridegroom dressed.  
My Lord of Gloucester! I believe these gay Princes  
Think we rough Fellows were only made  
To tug for them for Conquests in the War;  
Force from Crowned heads their feeble Sceptres;  
Then all our toil and labour's paid, when we  
Behold how well the gaudy Robe becomes them.  Glou. 
Rather let the bright Circle tear, tear  
Their beauteous Fronts, and leave them horrid,  [Aside. 
As spiteful Nature has formed mine.  
I'm of your mind, my Lord, observe how  [To Warwick. 
Exactly my Brother's locks are curled.  Clar. 
I'm glad to find you thus disposed, my Lords,  
And the Foe within our view.  Edw. 
I thought you knew not of their near approach,  
Else what made you absent at our last grand Council?  
You have yet been learning, why the shining Court  
Of Catharine, thus hovers near our Camp,  
Forsaking her more peaceful Palaces?  
She now is garrisoned in Ludlow Castle.  Clar. 
Of the motions, that Beauty makes, my Lord,  
As I expected you are always first informed.  Warw. 
This discourse will be too hot. Come,  
You lovely branch of the Plantagenets,  
Let's view the Troops: tho' a Courtier now;  
Yet in the fight you'll prove an English Hero.  [Exeunt War. Clar. Ex. Lords, Edw. 
Brother, come near. My Lords, pray retire.  
Brother and Friend, I long have sought these moments,  
In which I might pour the secrets of my Soul  
Into your faithful Bosom: Much I expect  
From thee, tho' Nature seems thy body  
To have ruffled up in haste, the rich gifts  
Within have amply made amends; for there  
Thou excellest all her humane Sons, as far  
As they do thee in Empty, Worthless, tho'  
Beauteous forms.  Glou. 
For all my Stepdames gifts, I only thank her,  
In that she has firmly fixed my Faith and Love  
To you, my Royal Brother and my Lord.  Edw. 
Didst thou observe how Clarence frowned and sighed  
When Warwick asked him to view our Troops.  
The Court of Catharine's the cursed Cause;  
There, Oh! there, the ignoble youth is ruined.  Glou. 
This I knew before: But now I expected  
Something to hear related of the first,  
The noblest and most perfect of our Race.  
Speak Heavens appointed King, why at the name  
Of Catharine's Court do I still observe  
A sigh, a pause, some sudden start of Nature,  
Otherways unusual in your even temper?  
It can't be Love, for justly you are called  
The Royal Rover; you wander over the Field  
Of tempting Beauty, with wanton revelling Joy;  
And if you crop a Flower, the rifled sweet  
Is thrown neglected by; to whither in some  
Forgotten shade; nor ever did you make  
A business of what Nature meant a trifle,  
By giving us desires so prone, so apt,  
So pleased with Change.  Edw. 
Since the decisive day approaches near,  
In which the work of many years is fated,  
Glory and Conquest wait that pointed time,  
Or in the Field an Honourable death:  
Give orders that we are not Interrupted,  
And thou shalt hear the weakness of thy Brother.  [Exit Gloucester, and returns. Glou. 
Silence, and Secrecy wait upon your words!  Edw. 
I need not tell you Friend, that I stood  
The first and dearest in our Father's Love.  
Too well his partial kindness was expressed,  
In my most Noble, Liberal Education.  
When first he brought me to that Mart the Court,  
Catharine was Regent; Introduced I viewed  
That Queen with ecstasy and strange amazement,  
Methought she looked and moved beyond her Sex;  
And something whispered to my ravished Soul,  
She is a Goddess!  Glou. 
In those blooming years she was approved  
By all a wonder, nor yet has fate or time  
Exhausted the vast stock, she still appears  
As one that's born to die a beauty: Pray, Sir, proceed.  Edw. 
I kneeled to kiss her hand; but then forgot  
The Ceremony was over, and rooted there  
Gazed on the pointed rays shot from those Globes  
Of Beauty, her resistless Eyes, till they  
Reached and pierced my heart.  
Now, the Martial Horse can please no more;  
The Bow unstrung neglected lay; and all  
The Glorious exercises of my forward youth,  
Wherewith I had with Emulation strove  
To out do each Rival. To Grots and Solitudes  
Retired, I hide me from the busy World:  
Gave up myself to thought,  
To thoughts of Love and Rapture, which perhaps  
Was not in her to give, at least not ordained  
For me.  Glou. 
How could you fear, my Lord, your Birth, your Form  
And your abundant Wealth might give you hopes  
To gain your Mistress, tho' she were a Queen.  Edw. 
Canst thou forgive the poorness of my spirit?  
When I confess, I served that haughty Queen,  
With all the lowest marks of servile Courtship:  
Fled at her command, trembled at her frown,  
And at her anger died, at length resolved  
To know my fate; beneath her feet I fell;  
In dying Accents I confessed my Love:  
She with an unrelenting look replied,  
It is impossible! you never can be mine.  
With groans and sighs I begged her change that Never;  
That terror to the damned, and death to me;  
And all my hopes to any other word, but she,  
Deaf to my Prayers, my Vows, repeated often,  
Remember Earl of March! never, never.  Glou. 
Foolish Woman! to resist at once her glory  
And her safety: some other Love, I guess,  
Gave this strong passion ease.  Edw. 
Yes, on her side, not mine? no Gloucester, Gloucester!  
I was the constantest Fool, that e'er that Sex  
With more than Necromantique Charms enchained;  
Till at last convinced that Owen Tuder  
Held the heart and person of the Queen;  
Revenge despite of such a Rival cast  
Forth from my breast the darling God of Love.  Glou. 
How could Tudor then escape your Vengeance  
Or did you not believe his boasted descent  
From Great Cadwalladar the British King,  
So thought him a Plebeian beneath your Sword?  Edw. 
Let everlasting silence shroud that truth,  
And to after Ages in Oblivion's Grave,  
May what I tell my Brother be forgotten;  
I did pursue him with my eager wrongs;  
But oh! He foiled my unexperienced youth,  
And in the Combat overcame the Cause:  
Since that cursed moment, I and my engines have  
Raised him plagues, which he could ne'er surmount,  
And made Imperious Margaret his foe,  
That furious Queen, whose anger knows no end:  
Now he's confined to his own barren soil,  
Hunted from Katharine's eyes, those kindly rays,  
That warmed his passions even to ecstasy.  Glou. 
But now proud Margaret descends and courts  
That Tudor, whom she has despised,  
To assist her cause in this extremity.  
In vain their weakened Forces can oppose  
My Godlike Brother, whom Fate has doomed  
Her Conqueror.  Edw. 
No doubt he obeys the summons, and comes on  
To meet us there; in the heat of all the battle  
Through the ranged troops my Sword shall point him out;  
Yes; by my wrongs I swear, by all the Racks  
Of disappointed Love, my abler Arm  
Shall for the weakness of my Youth atone.  
I'll hack his beauteous body, since even rage  
And envy must allow his Person lovely.  
Till doting Katherine shall not distinguish  
His mangled Carcase from the meanest Slave's.  Glou. 
You speak with so much passion, that if daily  
You did not quench your flames in dear variety,  
I still should think you loved the Queen.  Edw. 
The sweets of Love are gone, my Friend, but still  
The sting remains, the sting of her denial.  
Oh! what a torment 'tis to know another  
Enjoys that Bliss, for which I sighed in vain,  
But Revenge is more lasting, fiercer far,  
If not so pleasing as fond Boyish Love.  Glou. 
His approach brings the fair Queen  
To this Castle, that lies between our Camps,  
Suppose I glut the angry God within your  
Breast, and find a way to kill this hated Tudor  
In her arms.  Edw. 
'Twou'd charm me more than to revel in them now.  Glou. 
Mind you the pleasures that your heart is fond of,  
And leave this business to your faithful Brother.  
Lord Dacres and Sir James Terrell rule the Queen,  
Dacres is honest, trusty, not to be moved  
By bribes or prayers; Terrell is mine, and so is  
Malavill, Clarence's Favourite, nor shall the amorous Boy  
Wed the beauteous Ward of Katherine, Isabel,  
Half English, half French, I like not  
The mixed breed.  Edw. 
That be thy laboured care, for if he matches  
In that abandoned Family; we lose a Brother.  
Come to my arms, and let me swear, my Gloucester,  
Thou sharest the Heart and Crown of thy loved Edward.  Glou. 
I hope, great Sir, you'll ne'er repent the trust  
You have imposed upon your ready Servant.  Edw. 
I thank thee, Gloucester, and I believe thee too,  
Who waits on Fate, will find her Laws are just,  
And patience will at length our wishes Crown  
I could ask no more, than this  

To mount the Throne of my ungrateful Fair  
And dash her back that bitter Cup, despair.   [Exeunt. Enter Malavill to Gloucester. Mala. 
My Lord, are you alone.  Glou. 
I am, and you are safe. Haste, dear Malavill.  
Quick, inform me what  
More of Importance since our last Conference  
Has reached thy knowledge.  Mala. 
I am afraid, if discovered, I can  
No longer serve your Grace.  Glou. 
Therefore be quick in your Narration!  Mala. 
Fair Isabel from the Castle meets  
My Lord of Clarence in the adjoining Grove.  
And there I've learned, he means to try  
The utmost eloquence of Conquering Love,  
To persuade his Mistress to fly the Kingdom.  Glou. 
Dear Malavill, observe my orders, you shan't want Gold  
But at the meeting, let not a falling syllable  
Escape thee, How stands, Sir James Thyrrold?  Mala. 
Fixed to our Cause, as fate, fonder far  
Of Isabel than he is of Life; to Hell  
He'd plunge to sink his Reval.  Glou. 
My Lord Dacres, will he leave the Queen;  
Is Tudor's coming on confirmed?  Mala. 
All as you could wish: hark, a noise!  
I dare not stay to tell you more.  (Exit. Glou. 
Work on my brain, help every faculty;  
And thou invention stretch, till thou hast wound me  
Into the bottom of my Brother's Councils:  
Then give destruction power, a Crown alone  
Can safely shroued those foul deformities.  
Those glorious rays would dazzle mocking Gazers;  
Then amongst the crowd no saucy Slave,  
Would dare in whispers to pronounce me monstrous.  
The lady's too, caught with unbounded sway:  
The Royal Purple to this uncouth trunk  
Gives form, and vigour to this sapless Limb.  
By Heaven, nature sent me  
Here in spite to plague her upright Race.  

'Twas her design! nor shall she lose her end,  
A Real Foe, and deep dissembling Friend:  
Near the Crown, but not near enough allied,  
Tho Seas of Blood my Title do divide,  
Cruel and bold I'll wade the Kindred tide.   Exit.   

ACT the Second.  

SCENE Ludlow Castle.  SCENE draws, discovers Queen Catharine seated: attended by the Lord Dacres, Sir James Terrell, etc. Ladies. She riseth. Cat. 
THo' Margaret, Daughter only of a titled King;  
Who for her Portion brought my wanting Henry,  
What he wanted least, expensive Pride:  
Tho, she I say, ranks me with her Foes,  
Has taken pains to est range me from the breast,  
And fatal Counsels of her ruined Husband!  
Yet so dear I hold my Son, that to his aid,  
I would not spare my Officers of State alone;  
Alas! now they are few, succouring him,  
Myself I'll strip of each menial Servant;  
But oh, my Lord, when I Reflect on your departure,  
My nature by continual injuries made bold,  
Shrinks back, and all my Courage fails me.  Dacres. 
The only merit I can plead, is my obedience,  
The Creature of your Commands.  Cat. 
Wisely and well did thy Great Master choose,  
Who dying left me to thy Guardian care;  
So perfect has my Loyal Dacres proved,  
That I dare read thy very thoughts, and pronounce  
They never swerved one title from my Interest.  
Even preferment, that Common bait, and Ruin of a Courtier's  
Honesty, could never tempt thee from me, but now!  
The sad hour's arrived, that calls thee forth:  
Thy prudence and thy courage must out  
To save a sinking King.  Dac. 
O, sacred relic of the first of Heroes!  
For what was Alexander, but a Name  
Compared with our Immortal Henry?  
It's true, the first ravaged over effeminate Persia  
And a barbarous World; but my unequalled King  
Conquered his numerous neighbours, Older much  
Than He, and therefore thought more skilled in Arms:  
Fenced Towns, nor Armed men could bar his fury,  
Which like Groves, darkened th' expanded plain;  
Through triple numbers he forced his way to victory;  
Doubly blessed, subdueing France, and being by you  
Subdued: Yet in this full tide of Fortune mark,  
The weakness of the best of humane frames,  
Either the excess of sorrow, or of Joy,  
Cracks the strings of life, and we moulder  
Into our first nothing; when thousand pious hands  
Were lifting up to Heaven for his safety,  
Even than our mighty King expired.  Cat. 
Well hast thou choosed this melancholy theme,  
It suits our parting, Noble Dacres, well.  Dac. 
By Heaven! I cannot mention that Great Man,  
But the vast story dwells upon my tongue;  
But now I thought to look a little backwards,  
And tell my beauteous Queen the many ties,  
That link me her faithful Slave: when lo!  
At the name of Glorious Henry; my words  
Flowed to Encomiums; and left my worthless self forgot.  Cat. 
It needs not, Sir, O, could I but reward,  
As I remember all thy Services,  
How wouldst thou shine, bedecked with Royal Favours.  
Now thy advice, and then farewell: do you think  
The Garrison drawn off, and then my Guard removed,  
I'm safe, not that I'm mentioned in the War;  
But I would not be exposed to that power, that has  
No Justice for its rule.  Dac. 
Madam, this Castle was built by Vortigern,  
See but the Keys of the Avenues in  
Trusty hands; Edward may waste his Army here,  
 give you any cause for a disturbance.  
Sir James Thyrrold, to your charge I leave  
My Queen; if thou shouldst prove a Traitor, ah!  
How came these words upon my tongue, without  
A moment's thought.  Tyr. 
Without a cause, you should have said, what have  
I done to be mistrusted?  Cat. 
Thyrrold hold! it was his care for me;  
If yours is equal, than you must excuse it.  
Adieu, Commend me to Henry and the Queen,  
Tell them my endeavours and my Prayers shall still  
Attend them.  Dac. 
O thou forgiving Virtue! Everlasting Charmer!  
Whose sight alone gave thy dying Lord  
Transports too great for mortal life to bear.  
Here let me six my parting duty, and  
Eternal Blessings Crown thee.  Cat. 
Victory, great as thy faith and worth, be thine.  
Go, and in my Closet lay the Books I read in last.  [Exit Dacres. 
Where's now the crowded Court of Paris,  
Rheims, or Windsor, when scarce a passage  
Could be made for gazing Princes, and for  
Kneeling Subjects; when illustrious Henry  
Crowned the assembly, and supported me.  
Yet I again was happy, my Virgin Love,  
The very pride and boast of Nature, Tudor,  
My Henry's Soul cast in purer mould;  
He was mine, him have they robbed me of;  
And I have nothing left at my command,  
But these sad Eyes, which of themselves will flow.  Enter Isabel. Isa. [kneeling.] 
Angels protect the Queen, may I once prove  
The happy Messenger, and stamp that Clouded  
Heaven with smiles. From Tudor this?  [Gives a Letter. Cat. 
See, Isabel, see; forgetting his repeated wrongs,  
He flies, to the assistance of the ungrateful Margaret;  
Am I to blame, now in the wrack of Fate,  
When rolling Tempests bear my Glory's down?  
Is it a fault, I say, to feel Love's alarm,  
Busy at my heart, and dawning Joy  
Break on me at his approach?  Isa. 
Is it a fault to love the Masterpiece of Heaven,  
And wonder of the Earth? such Tudor is:  
Then, Madam, to you, not the first of humane Race  
Was ever half so faithful or so fond; were all  
Mankind like him, believing, Virgins never  
Could be ruined.  Cat. 
He is indeed a Husband, whose unbated passion,  
The fiercest new made Lover ne'er can equal;  
Here he begs, that through that Secret Vault,  
Which to the Castle Leads, known but to a trusted few,  
He may in private see me. You, dear Isabel,  
Have the Important Keys, take the Letter,  
Observe the hour, and be careful.  Isa. 
Madam, I will.  Cat. 
Why dost thou sigh, my Girl; you dare not make  
Your Queen your Confident, yet I have found  
The secret of your Soul.  
Young Plantagent, whom they call Clarence now,  
In our prosperous days, with my allowance, paid his vows to thee:  
Love's soft, first Impression hangs about thy heart.  
I read it in thy watery eyes? But, oh! I warn thee  
Of that rebelling and most treacherous Race:  
If thou regardest the safety of thy Queen,  
Or thy own future Peace,  
Throw from thy thoughts the faithless Fugitive.  
I warn thee of him; and when thou'rt warned, beware.  [Exit. Cat. Isa. 
And when thou'rt warned, beware.  
It strikes upon my Soul, and echoes back,  
Like the sad voice of Fate. I'll follow straight  
The Queen, give her up the Keys, confess  
The frailty of my Conquered heart;  
And see the Lovely, Charming youth no more.  
See him no more! what has my Clarence done  
So to be punished? does he not droop  
In midst of Laurels, Crowns, and Victories?  
Or aims he at a Bliss without his Isabel?  
Are not his Vows Registered in Heaven?  
And every awful power called to witness?  
Shall I then forsake him? No:  
Be it my ruin, it has a face so pleasing,  
I'll fly to plunge into it.  [Is going. Enter Sir James Thyrrold. Sir J. [kneeling.] 
Turn, ah! too Lovely, Heavenly maid! let not  
Those eyes, that light the rest of the World  
To Joy, dart only on me Confusion; behold  
The humble Thyrrold at your feet; hear  
The sad tale my Love inspires;  
Oh can that sweet form, that looks all softness,  
Contain a Savage heart.  Isa. 
Presuming Arrogance. Can no Commands  
Impose on you eternal silence? yet I'm calm:  
But if again you affront me with your saucy passion,  
The Queen shall know it, who, no doubt, will  
Protect a Maid committed to her Royal care,  
From Insolence like thine.  [Exit. Sir J. 
Eternal ruin seize the Queen and thee,  
And all the Confounded Siren's Sex; how many Hells  
Within this Bosom reign? slighted Love,  
Revenge, Rage, Spite, Envy and Ambition;  
Sure the damned medley must at least produce  
A perfect madness. Oh! that as my will  
To mischief rises, so my power might;  
That I could let the Furies lose, and ravage  
All the World.  
'Tis Clarence holds her heart, but Gloucester will  
Assist, and 'spite of all their fondness blast their  
Loves, rather than they should meet.  

Let ruin through the face of Nature range,  
And all things suffer a Destructive Change;  
When in that Chaos all mankind shall lie,  
There'll not be found a wretch so cursed as I.   [Exit.  

SCENE, A Grove.  Enter Clarence, and Malavill. Clar. 
With much , I've broke from faithful Warwick,  
Who pressed me hard to know my fatal sorrows.  
This the hour, and this the place,  
In which I met my Heavenly Isabel:  
Let my ambitious Brothers waste their time,  
In climbing up the Royal precipice;  
Let Casuists argue the injustice of the War,  
Whilst I retiring from the bustling Crowd,  
Find my sure bliss in Isabella's eyes;  
See! where the brightness darts thro'yonder shades;  
So Cynthia looked, when in Lathmo's Cave  
She nightly met Endymion. Oh no! My  
Isabella's Beauty will surmount all poet's Rapture.  Enter Isabel and her Woman. 
O thou balm of Comfort! Soul of sweetness!  
Look on me, shoot thy Beams into my bosom,  
Talk to me, Charm me into Ecstasy, for  
Heaven is my Witness, I never think of Joys  
But in thy Presence?  Isa. 
O Clarence! the gloomy Stars that rule our fates  
Were never sure for Conjunction made;  
Distant, alas! and wide they dart their angry Rays;  
And seem to threaten everlasting separation.  Clar. 
At such a thought I'd curse them from their Spheres.  
They now are kind, Oh! may my fair one prove so too.  
Then this very night they light me on  
To endless Worlds of bliss.  Isa. 
What means my Lord?  Clar. 
Have I been only flattered with what alone  
My youth has gloried in; or may I trust  
The trembling tender accents, that have whispered  
Thy heart, thy precious heart was mine?  Isa. 
When first the Queen bid me look on you  
As my destined Lord, I thought 'twas duty  
Made me regard you, more than all mankind.  
But ah! too soon I found that Godlike form,  
And the respect you paid; which love alone produces,  
Had gained the ascendant o'er my Virgin wishes.  
If since my eyes have strayed, or any object  
Brought to my thoughts, that offered to rebel  
Against the awful power already there  
May Heaven, which knows the secrets of my Soul,  
Punish me with loss of you and Fame.  Clar. 
bend, ye Celestial Choir; bend down with me,  
And bless the Angel you have lent, for breathing  
Words like these, that tune and charm my Soul.  
By my hopes, were all the merits of our Race,  
Crammed into one, he durst not plead desert,  
A Beam of mercy, the least regard of pity,  
Pays an Age of Services. Oh! how wretched am I?  Isa. 
Why, my dear Clarence! why does thy bosom heave  
With sighs, as the great heart within were rending?  
If I have any Charms, if I can please,  
Is not all the kindness of my eyes addressed to thee?  Clar. 
Therefore, and only therefore do I curse  
My Fate, that being blessed beyond what  
The most Ambitious could have hoped for,  
I yet have more, much more to ask.  
E'er my Request is told! Oh Isabel,  
Guess what's the Consequence; how it imports  
My Life, these Agonies will sure express.  
I who have stood pitched Battles without one  
Shock of Nature, now feel Convulsive tremble  
Seize on every Nerve; nay, thus unmanned,  
Behold me weeping at your feet.  Isa. 
What can you who have so much Honour  
Fear to ask; or I, who have so much Love,  
Refuse to grant? My Lord, as your partial kindness  
Has set me nearer to your heart, than all the fairest  
Of your Sex, so would I approve my faith  
Above the common rate,  
To justify your choice; speak thou Conqueror,  
Propose the way, be it to strip me of these shining  
Ornaments, the Pride of Courts, and fly with thee  
To Caves, to Huts, and unfrequented shades,  
Most readily I will obey.  Clar. 
Ha! didst thou say fly with me! By Heaven  
'Tis on that the weight of my Petition hangs.  
Can you, dare you, will you be so good,  
To trust this tender work of Heaven, this  
Matchless softness, never exposed to aught less gentle,  
Than the breeze from flowers? Dare you with me,  
Venture tempestuous blasts, regardless Seas,  
And all the hazards of Incommodious flight?  Isa. 
Yes! my dear Clarence; Love would make me bold,  
Fill all my thoughts with thee, and dangers quite forgot,  
When thou art ne'er me; But oh! I have another tie,  
Duty, Friendship, Gratitude plants me here.  
The mourning Queen, whose adversity has shaken off  
Fawning crowds, must not be left by Isabel.  Clar. 
I'll not complain; or urge an Argument  
Against that good and all-deserving Queen.  
'Tis true, big with my hopes, for what won't Love  
Prompt blooming youth to hope, I had prepared  
A vessel for our Transportation into France;  
You, as a Branch of Burgundy, must needs  
Have found a noble welcome in that Court;  
And I, as Brother to great England's King  
Could have made my own Conditions.  Isa. 
England's King, my Lord, is not your Brother.  Clar. 
Yes, faithful charming Maid, he is,  
The People's hearts are his, the sickly Forces  
Of falling Henry, tomorrows setting Sun  
Entombs: yet I would fly from these flowing honours,  
Which must adorn our Family, and gazing  
Upon thee forget Ambition.  Isa. 
What do you ask? to what do I incline?  
These may not be faithful, the way, the method,  
All like Palaces in Fairy Land,  
Impracticable, and only built on fancy.  Clar. 
If Love's your guide, the way is very easy,  
The secret door, you now have passed, you may  
As well command at twelve; there I will wait,  
Like the far travelled Pilgrim, who knows no Peace  
Of mind, till the opening Temple shows the Saint,  
To whom his vows and orisons are paid.  Isa. 
Alas! I dare not tread those lonely paths,  
Through hollow Vaults and most horrid Wind,  
And at that dreadful hour of Midnight;  Clar. 
Give Malavill the outer Key, and we  
Will meet you in the upper Court, nay, fear  
Not, dearest, I know him well, born and bred  
Amongst us, tried and faithful as a Brother.  Isa. 
Yet Brothers may be false! O my divided Soul,  
Can I leave the dear indulgent Queen;  
O draw me, Heaven, through this Labyrinth!  
For Love and Friendship pull me several ways,  
Like Cords upon the Rack; which ever way I yield,  
No ease is granted to my troubled mind.  Clar. 
Return! my soft beloved, Oh return!  
Hush thy anxious thoughts a sleep, and think  
Of me no more? Edward is indeed inveterate;  
And which way ever Victory inclines, we meet no more.  
Led me, O Malavill! Led me to the Battle.  
Fix me in the front, against the ablest Archers fix me;  
And let a thousand, thousand darts at once  
Pierce this fond heart, which pants in vain for Isabel.  [Sinks on Malavill. Isa. 
Oh! my dear Lord! I'm not worthy half this passion,  
My Fear is vanished, and my Love is strong.  
Command me any thing, I will not raise  
Another doubt.  Clar. 
Oh! thou all goodness! dearest, sweetest Creature!  
Once does wretched Clarence hold thee fast.  Isa. 
Say, direct me how I shall proceed, for I will come.  Clar. 
Won't thou indeed?  
O! Charming Excellence; oh! all perfection,  
The blood that guards my heart leaps to my cheeks,  
Fires my eyes, which almost start with passion;  
And each crowding word to express my Joys,  
Grows thick upon my Tongue.  Isa. 
Talk not so wildly, but instruct me in my flight?  Clar. 
My life; give to Malavill the Key of that door, through which you passed.  Isa. 
I cannot yet, for that way Tudor enters to the Queen,  
Let him two hours hence beneath you Eastern Tower  
Wait, and I will give it him: what ails me  
Clarence? Why do I tremble so?  Clar. 
Oh! 'tis thy tender gentle nature, which frights  
Thy little frame, and makes thee shrink at what  
Thy love has promised; yet Isabel,  
By all my hopes, by the blessed Saints,  
It Clarence lives, you shan't repent your kindness.  
Blast me with Lightning from yond Azure roof,  
Rivet me with sure fulfilling bolts, if time  
In all its Course  
Past or to Come, can aught more faithful see.  Isa. 
Or any Maid, who loves, and dares, like me.  [Exeunt severally.  

SCENE the Camp.  Enter King Edward, meeting Gloucester. Ed. 
What news, my careful Gloucester?  Glou. 
Victory still attends the King; the very Scouts and Foragers  
Return, being flushed and redned with Success.  Edw. 
These are all steps to fix us on the Throne;  
But still the Root of Lancaster, and Branches too,  
Must be removed, least building o'er them  
We totter, and Clarence be ours or lost.  Glou. 
Lost in death  ruin us. Daring like yours  
In not proceeding does backward go;  
Fair Isabel consents to Clarence's Follies,  
And e'er morning hopes to escape.  Edw. 
That must be prevented.  Glou. 
It shall, the Hammer's lifted here, and when  
It strikes, the work is finished. The night  
Under her Sable Wings shall hatch such deeds,  
Will fright the blushing dawn: Suppose Ludlow Castle yours,  
The Queen, on a pretext, that shall seem just,  
Removed, Tudor slain, either on his March, or else  
Within the Walls.  Edw. 
Attempt both; they who would succeed, must leave  
The least to Chance, and catch at every opportunity.  Glou. 
This way Clarence moves, as Malavill informs me,  
Here I will stay and meet the fiery youth,  
Dash all his quiet with the Fiend Jealousy,  
Which Weed, Planted by a cunning hand,  
Will quickly grow in the warm soil of his  
Fierce passion, and even overshoot the love,  
Which he so long has cherished.  Edw. 
Use him, dear Gloucester as his Folly has Deserved.  Glou. 
What Paper's that?  Edw. 
A Letter from the forsaken Eleonora.  Glou. 
Leave it with me: I have a sudden  
Thought it may be useful.  Edw. 
Take it: thou art a perfect Chemist  
In extracting ruin. I dare trust all  
To thy management.  (Exit. Glou. 
Here comes Nature's other Favourite;  Enter Clarence. 
'Twas base, 'twas barbarous! the choicest  
Beauty of the Nation rifled, and then despised.  (Looking upon the Letter. Clar. 
What means my Brother?  Glou. 
Your Pardon, Duke of Clarence, I saw you not,  
Here's a melancholy complaint  
From the wretched Elenora.  Clar. 
Her fate is hard, and much my temper  
Differs from the King's.  Glou. 
That Sacred name raises him above  
Our Reprehension, tho' not to him, of him  
Who can forbear to speak, that has a Soul  
In which true honour has a Residence  
Has he not, like the wanton Summer fly,  
Blown upon and tainted all our Beauties?  
Is there a Maid of Quality or Fortune,  
Whom he has not attempted, or at least  
Married to some Favourite fawning Minion;  
While we the branches too of mighty York,  
Only are neglected?  Clar. 
The Lady's Case transports you; were I disposed  
To marry, the King should not choose for me.  Glou. 
My Lord, no choice is left, is there in all the Court,  
One of an unfullied fame, whose Beauty, or  
Whose Quality is fit for Prince's Arms?  Clar. 
I'll not dispute the matter, but I think there are.  Glou. 
There are! you speak as if they abounded,  
Name me but one, and I'll recant in Veneration  
To such a rarity; forgive the rest, and touch  
Their fames no more.  Clar. 
What think you then of beauteous Isabel?  
The studied Workmanship and hand of Heaven,  
Nothing can transcend her Divine person,  
But the unspotted Soul, that dwells within.  Glou. 
What Isabel, Queen Catharine's Ward,  
Thyrrold's Isabel, is't she you thus extravagantly Describe.  Clar. 
How Gloucester! now I have found thee subtle  
In malice, all the workings of thy brain  
Are like the dismal Policies of Hell;  
Which still produce a mischief.  
But do not mention her again!  
I charge thee do not: For by the sacred blood  
That fills her veins, the blood of Bedford and of Burgundy  
Both Royal Stems, you shall not dare?  Glou. 
Not dare, Prince?  Clar. 
No, not dare. Lay all your plots on me;  
Cover me all over with detraction, as with a Leprosy,  
But touch not Isabel; I will bear it.  Glou. 
Go on, my Brother, and when your passion's over,  
Too late consider, if I've deserved this usage.  Clar. 
What have I done! how came her name in Question?  
Oh! Gloucester, Gloucester! thou art deep and cunning,  
I but a shallow stream, and as I stand between,  
Shall be surely forded over;  
Edward and Gloucester both may take my life,  
But of my Love, there's neither shall deprive me.  Glou. 
I knew not Isabel grew so near you.  
'Twas common Fame occasioned what I said,  
That as the Queen, descended to Love Tudor,  
So Isabel had made Thyrrold hers.  
Rumor's the Child of Error, if I've caught  
A Falsehood, why should that create a Quarrel.  Clar. 
A Quarrel, there is none. The King and you  
Possess the glories you achieve in War,  
My happiness lies in another Sphere. Farewell.  [Exit. Glou. 
Happiness is a Rosy path you ne'er shall tread;  
The Hornet, I have thrown into your bosom,  
It buzzes now: But it shall sting anon.  
Dissimulation, thou art mine;  
My rage, was high as his, and spite much more: but dear dissimulation  
Covered all the fury of my Soul, and it shall be vented the safest way.  Enter Malavill. Mal. 
I met the Duke, my master; methought his  
Looks were full of discontent.  [Drum beats. Glou. 
I gave it him; hark, a distant Drum is the signal  
I ordered at the approach of Tudor: what, ho! Captain,  Enter Captain. 
Is the detachment ready?  Capt. 
My Lord, it is.  Glou. 
Led them towards the Castle, there as I told you you'd  
Meet with Tudor, when you encounter him, if his force,  
Is stronger than you expected, urge not too far, at night  
I shall use you, and those that you command.  Capt. 
With utmost care your orders shall be obeyed.  [Exit. Glou. 
Will Sir James Thyrrold come to the  
Appointed place?  Mala. 
He will, and is impatient till he  
Knows your Grace's pleasure.  Glou. 
Clarence is even to rashness brave, that  
Will make forget the nicer forms of  
Different Quality; after our Conference,  
See me again, if your Lord calls and seems uneasy,  
Cast forth doubtful Words; if Jealousy  
Appears, feed it with oil. I've  
Told the King thy merits of thy Intelligence  
And Honour waits to Crown thy Service.  Mala. 
Thanks, noble Sir, your long tasted Bounty  
Secures me still your Slave, I'll to my Lord,  
And watch his every motion.  [Exit Mala. Glou. 
Go thy ways, Traitor, that's thy proper name,  
Oh! there's a vile Ingredient in our frames;  
This Man my Brother Clarence ne'er did injure,  
But signalised him with marks of Friendship  
Above the rest, who did attend him. Yet,  
For a little Gold with eagerness he  
Seeks his ruin, an itching Palm destroys his Faith,  
Ambition conquers mine:  
Interest tempts all, and where she tempts, succeeds.  

My great designs, why should I blush to own,  
There's no Temptation greater than a Crown.    
The End of the second Act.   

ACT III.  

SCENE Ludlow Castle.  Enter Tudor and a Colonel. Tud. 
Cousin, how are ye?  Col. 
Right well, my noble Friend.  Tud. 
I did not here expect an Engagement.  Col. 
You fought as if you did, your Courage  
And your Conduct both were shown; they  
That gave the Onset first, most shamefully Retreated.  Tud. 
Colonel, lead your Forces to the Camp of Henry  
Or Margaret, I know not which to call it  
Before the morning's dawn I will be there.  Col. 
Oh Tudor, thou noblest of mankind,  
Remember e'er I speak that your Commands  
I never disobeyed.  Tud. 
Nor ever will, I hope, my Soldier and my Friend▪  Col. 
No, tho' by this Ambush laid and your rash  
Resolve of seeing the Queen alone, I read,  
Oh dismal thought! your death.  Tud. 
Be it so, draw off your Forces, I had rather  
See the Queen tho' my life's the forfeit, than  
Be Edward or Henry or any happier King  
That you can think of. If you outlive me,  
Report me as a Man that Catharine smiled on;  
Let some kind Pen transmit the glory to  
Posterity, and I shall hold my death a prize too small for such a stock  
Of fame if you Love me, answer not, nor offer to dissuade  
Me, but observe my orders,  [Exit. Col. bowing. 
This is the path; Oh Angel Guardian be thou  
Near, and lead me to my heaven.  (Exit. Enter Queen Catharine. Cat. 
I hear the doors unbar; shall I not go to  
Meet him; he comes, oh trembling heart  
Think of thy Woes and let thy pant now be still.  Enter Tudor and Isabel. Tud. (knelt.) 
My Queen?  Cat. 
My Love, my Husband, rise my dearest Lord.  Tud. 
Do I behold thy face again. Oh taste of joys  
Unatterabl? Oh Banquet beyond the power of sense to bear!  
Nor must I murmurnow,  
If the hard conditions wherewith,  
Seemed to article with providence is now fulfilled.  
For Heaven knows how often I have  
Wished to see thy face, and die.  Cat. 
Avert it Heaven; yet we meet indeed 'midst  
Wars and Tumults; Camps on either side;  
Frightful Scenes for Love.  Tud. 
All, all, is the milky way, when thou art near▪  
Oh should I but repeat the miseries I have  
Endured, since banished from those fair  
Eyes, you sure would pity me.  Cat. 
What hast thou suffered? thou dear  
Innocence? Pursued  Tud. 
Upon the Barren summit of a Prodigious  
Mountain whose height seemed to brave a second  
Flood, I passed my tedious hours,  
Stretching my longing Eyes towards the abode  
Of my fair Queen, and Courting the fierce winds  
That way to bear my sighs, sometimes farther urged  
By my despair upon the extremest verge of ragged  
Cliffts that over look the deep, I'd throw my  
Wretched weight like one distracted, tell the  
Ever beating Waves my Grief, and fill the ambient  
Air with your dear name.  
If thunder grumbled o'er my head  
Or Earthquakes shook the frame beneath,  
By me the Warring Element was unobserved;  
My Love, my Joy, my Peace of mind was lost.  
My Queen was absent, and therefore I forsook  
All Comfort.  Cat. 
Beds of Down and guilded roofs were a like,  
Uneasy, and without thee, food for desperation:  
And now 'tis but a kind of doubtful day,  
Which only glimmers, and then will part  
Us with eternal night.  Tud. 
Be that night eternal, no morrow grant.  
At least this night is ours.  Cat. 
Flatter not thyself with hopes now, there is  
Nothing ours; yet you may remember; nay you must,  
It has been otherwise, Henry the First and Noblest  
Candidate for fame, once was yours and mine,  
My Lover, and your Royal Friend, yet you have  
Seen me Crowned the Queen of Nations,  
Beheld my evening Pomp and morning Waiters,  
For you were still the earliest of the Crowd;  
At awful distance watched the motions of my eyes,  
And trembled when you met a glance,  
Henry knew the Holy Fire, that warmed your breast,  
Yet so well he knew both you and me,  
That he never frowned on either:  
But encouraged the  Friendship,  
Which when Heaven angry with this lower World  
Snatched hence its great protector grew to Love:  Tud. 
Blessed Hero! whom future Ages or their best  
Of future Kings can only hope to faintly Copy,  
Whom when I ever name without Just Veneration,  
May Cankers gnaw my ungrateful Tongue;  
Yet Friendship shall not rob my Love.  
No mighty Queen the first minute these tho',  
Then hopeless eyes, viewed that unimitable frame,  
They drew in Love, witness their divided lids  
Still stretched with endless wake witness the  
Unbated sorrows; the returning years still found  
Me 〈…〉 witness ten thousand racks.  
But why look I backwards, when I can call  
The Heaven mine for which I served?  
Yes, 'tis permitted, that I may approach.  
My Arms have Licence to Circle thee, and snatch  
Thee to my heart, and hold a place in thine,  
A glory which I'd not exchange to be  
The greatest titled Slave the busy Globe contains.  Cat. 
Oh Tudor, Tudor, sure thy Mother's blessings,  
And her beauty, and her softness, hangs about thee,  
The rest of humane Race all seem rugged,  
Thou only art the Child of Love, the pattern  
Made for Poets to form their Hero's by.  Tud. 
The kindness of these Words, nothing but  
Ecstatick bliss, nothing but Joys this night  
Will bring, can raise me higher,  Cat. 
My fears distract me, you are a Foe  
Proclaimed, should there be Information  
Given, Courts have many spies, the Castle  
Is unguarded, let not thy valiant Soul and  
Over eager Love, tempt thee to so imminent  
A danger; tho' yet thy Arm well used to Conquest,  
Prompts thee on, think, alas, my Tudor,  
Multitudes overcome the bravest Sword.  Tud. 
Sha●… apprehension, the Coward's check, fright  
Me, from my fair Levelly not a Man who has  
Aspired and possessed the greatest Queen on  
Earth, so low in your esteem, that imaginary  
Fears, should tear me hence, the Niggard  
Heavens allow us but the present hours, the  
Future still are left to doubtful Fate. Oh!  
Lovely Catharine, if I read in thy looks some  
Beamy signs of Joy, as sure I can, for I  
Understand 'em well, bless me with kindness,  
Talk no more of danger, let us dream at  
Lest this Castle's safety ours; indulge the  
Pleasing ecstasy, nor wake, till we are  
Forced to wake.  Cat. 
She that can love and can deny must not  
Have a heart like mine.  Isa. 
Oh!  Tud. 
Blessed sound!  Cat. 
My Isabel I heard the sad murmur of a  
Stifled sigh, my ear catched the broken  
Sadness. Tudor, behold your fair guide as the  
Dearest object of my Friendship; nay she  
Almost Rivals you. The kindest maid, the  
Truest creature, Companion in all my solitudes,  
Forsaking the allurements the tempting  
Pleasures which her charming youth and  
Vast fortunes might have commanded, still  
Has she followed my retirement: and with  
Her Innocence and Goodness cheated me.  Tud. 
For such a faithful care, may  
That power to whom we pray, reward her  
Equal to my wish, continue still that beauteous  
Loveliness, Crown her with happiness lasting  
As herself can wish.  Isa. 
My Noble Lord, cover me not  
With blushes? Why, Royal Madam,  
Did ye speak those  
Balmy words, they wound my heart, your kindness  
Like descending Angels on the impure,  
Strikes me with death.  Tud. 
What means the Charmer?  Cat. 
My Lord, she's sick of our disease, in love,  
And now by my commands I hope is  
Struggling with her yielding heart, within  
I'll tell ye all the unhappy Circumstances.  Tud. 
Peace to her mind, and may she ever  
Vanquish all that would disturb her, my  
Queen are the tender pledges of our love,  
The beauteous little ones for beauteous they  
Are, cause Images of thee, are they here.  Cat. 
My Cherubs, my Comforts, could they be from  
Me never, I'll lead you to 'em, dear  
Isabel, give Thyrrold strict charge to be  
Careful in his watch, then attend me in the  
Bedchamber.  Tud. 
Give me thy hand.  

And as this touch does all my racks remove,  
So may thy fears, and think of nought but Love.   (Exit Queen led by Tud. Isa. 
What must I think on? doubting, and the  
Dreadful expectation of what's to come,  
Are terrors that create despair, and such a  
State is mine. Oh fairest, best of Queens!  
Can you not find in my disordered looks,  
The tumults of my Soul, and Chain me  
Near ye?  Enter her Woman. Wom. 
Madam, Malavill waits without.  Isa. 
Let him wait a little longer, my Esperanza,  
What have we promised, dost thou not fear?  Wom. 
For you alone, I alas, am worthless!  Isa, 
Oh happy! happy thou. If you consented to  
Some honest mate and fled, no Court would  
Be alarmed, no Pursuers, no life be lost.  
Where shall I unbosom my full heart, what  
Kind adviser help my youth, I have no friend,  
I never had but one, the unequalled Queen,  
And she I am flying from.  Wom. 
To meet a Faithful Friend, a Noble Husband.  Isa. 

So I hope, but oh I dare not look with reason's  
Eye into this mad attempt; love hurries me  
Along, and love they say is a blind guide; if  
Margaret, if Catharine, or if Edward seize us,  
Away, I will not thing so deeply, fasten that  
Door, lest from the Castle we are surprised,  
And call Malavill in.  [Exit Wom.  

Now 'tis better in my tormented breast, the  
Scene is changed, and Clarence stands in my  
Minds view, all faithful, lovely, and beloved. Oh,  
Haste thee to my Royal Youth, and chase these  
Melancholy fears away.   Re-enter her Woman with Malavill. Mala. 
My Lord watches the minutes with an impatient  
Lover's haste, numbers 'em with his sighs, till the  
Blessed one arrives, till I return and more confirm  
His expected Joys.  Isa. 
Malavill, 'tis a dangerous path we tread, and much  
Precaution must be used, if amongst those few,  
Your master trusts but one, should prove a Traitor  
Inevitable ruin seizes all.  Mala. 
I dare affirm the care the Duke has took in what  
So nearly does concern him, equal his Love, which nothing  
Can exceed, the rest are managed well, I only know  
The bottom of the design, and should I  
Be thought unfaithful, I soon would give a fatal  
Proof of my Fidelity, and die at hearing I was  
Once mistrusted.  Isa. 
No, be assured thou art not, if thou wert by  
Isabel, I'd stand the lash of Furies▪ have  
Uninvented torments practised on this tender  
Body, excelling all the old, e'er groan the secret  
Out this night. On Dacres absence I know the Queen  
Will walk herself the rounds, see every door and  
Brazen gate fast barred and locked, and every Key  
Brought to the Royal Chamber, this only passage  
Left to trusted me, and therefore unexamined shall  
I then dare? Oh horror, every limb and every  
Trembling vein forbids it.  Mal. 
What, not for the Duke of Clarence, not for him  
Who would rush through thousand pointed Swords  
For you.  Isa. 
Take it, take the important Key. The Queens own words—  
But fly this moment, fly, be gone I say, lest I  
Repent and yield no more.  Mala. 
With all my heart. (Aside.) At twelve?  Isa. 
I will.  [Exit Ma. 
Hear thou Allseeing eye of Providence, listen to (kneeling.  
A distressed Virgins Prayer, if aught that's ill ensues  
For much my heart forbodes; as mine the guilt, be mine the punishment.  

If there must be wrath, heap it all on me,  
But let the guiltless Queen be safe and free.   [Exeunt.  

SCENE, the Camp.  Enter Duke of Clarence, followed by the Earl of Warwick. Warw. 
Hold, Duke of Clarence stop, thus have I  
Followed thee heyond our utmost Guards,  
Thus beheld thee, observed thy folded arms,  
And down cast eyes, thy silent steps I've traced,  
Which seemed to measure out thy graves  
Length, so sad they were come, dear youth,  
Lean upon my bosom and tell thy griefs, if thou  
Art wronged, Warwick stands forth to do thee  
justice, I serve the King thy Brother Edward,  
But dare Proclaim before his face I love thee More.  Clar. 
Burden me not with kindness. To noble natures  
'Tis the hardest task, favours receiving without  
Hopes of a return. Edward and Gloucester, the darlings  
Both of Fate; to them apply and court not him,  
Who shuns the World.  War. 
Dost thou push me from thee, young Prince;  
Boy, I was a going to have said, you will repent  
It; there's something labours in thy brain  
Remember you were offered Warwick's aid, which  
You despised, Farewell.  (Exit War. Clar. 
He's gone, and I dare not call him back or tell  
My weakness; he never will consent, his Souls wound  
Up to steady Glory, past the Convulsive fit of  
Love's dear Calenture, what he terms sadness  
Is the expected Joy which fills my Soul with transports.  
My thoughts are full of thee, dear Isabel,  
And my eyes disdain to view an object that may  
Divert the pleasing Image, where art thou?  
Malavill, lazy Ambassador for Love, hast to bring  
Me the glad tidings all goes well.  Enter a Page. Pag. 
Sir, Sir?  Clar. 
What's the matter, boy?  Pag. 
A grim looked fellow, gave me this, and charged  
Me instantly to seek ye, nor would he leave me  
Till he saw I'd found your Grace. I knew my  
Gallant Master would have been angry, if I  
Had trembled else indeed he frighted me.  Clar. 
Poor innocence! ha', lift up thy Torch sure the  
Moon gives me a sickly light and make me,  
Read a miss.  [Reads.] 
Duke of Clarence,  
YOur Family is given to invade another's right. You a younger branch, follow the Example: Witness, your designs on Isabel, my plighted Wife. (Ha', my blood runs cold, but I will yet proceed) Since you have chose the Murderer's hour, as that perjured false one has confessed, be that the place and time, if you dare to meet the  
Injured Thyrrold.  
If I dare, where am I, can this be true, or is it all  
A plot too deep for me to fathom; Isabel false, I'll  
Not believe it, sure 'tis all delusion.  Enter Malavill. 
Oh, art thou come, let me rush upon thee, as I  
Would seize my Love, thou art arrived the very  
Minute when I was plunging down I know not where,  
You must awake me from a dreadful dream,  
For sure it is no more?  Mal. 
My Lord!  Clar. 
Shrink not from my embrace, nor turn thy eyes  
Away, I cannot bear another apprehension if thou  
Bringst not comfort. Hell, all hell is here.  Mal. 
What should I say?  Clar. 
Why, hast thou nothing then to say, did I not Send thee?  Mal. 
You did, my Lord.  Clar. 
Why are thy answers cold and looks distracted?  
Did I not send thee to Isabel, for the Confirmation  
Of her promise, and the Key?  Mal. 
You did, but oh!  Clar. 
What? speak I charge thee, speak.  Mal. 
After long waiting and repeated signs, the  
Necessary thing her Woman appeared, and with  
A scornful smile, said we were all defeated:  
Sir James Thyrrold had discovered our design, and  
Isabel in a careless tone, she added, was concerned,  
But advised your Grace to think of her no more.  Clar. 
By hell 'tis false, she is betrayed as well as I,  
Her Soul is written in her looks, and does not  
Know deceit.  Mal. 
Take my life, if you suspect me, go the  
Appointed place I'll wait upon you,  
Affronted and vexed like you.  Clar. 
Forgive me, dear Malavill, what, no Key?  
No word from her.  Mal. 
None, as I hope for everlasting happiness.  Clar. 
Then she is— hold my breath shall not proclaim  
Her, nor will I curse her, nor wish her half,  
The racks that she has given me; follow to  
My Tent, I have yet an Assignation left, which  
Shall be this night in Blood performed: Oh Isabel,  
Who would have thought, when Heaven had took  
Such pains, without Hell had been employed  
So deep within.  

Fool! fool, too soon believing, I'm undone  
Nor has the Trayt'ress by deceiving won.  
For whom soever, false Saint, bows to thee,  
There's not a Worshipper will dote like me.   [Exit. Enter Duke of Gloucester. Glou. 
Ha', ha', ha', this will do him good; whet his  
Spleen, and make a perfect Soldier of him. Had  
The Man been married, he had been spoiled.  Mal. 
Your Grace is pleased, but should my Lord and  
Isabel meet, or the King incline to the match;  
I of necessity must be crushed as an atonement,  
For the reconciliation.  Glou. 
Hitherto thou hast acted well, doubting will  
Undo thee. No, Clarence and Isabel meet no more  
Like Lovers, on the word of Gloucester, be directed,  
And search no further, tread the way that I show  
Thee, which shall lead to thy advancement.  Mal. 
Too far I've ventured now to think of a return.  Glou. 
Where's the Key that to the Castle gives the Wished admittance?  Mal. 
There 'tis: had you but seen with what fear,  
What trembling 'twas given, heard the prayers  
The piercing words, the frighted Virgin used,  
'Twould sure have shocked ye.  Glou. 
No, I should have laughed at the deluded Maid.  
Does your Master wear to day the Sword I gave you?  Mal. 
My Lord, you know he does?  Glou. 
'Tis well that Sword is tempered, as I would ever  
Wish my foes, for at the first meeting Clash  
It breaks, six of my Volunteers will seize  
Him; men not unused to practices like those.  
In vain he'll call himself Clarence, in vain  
Endeavour to convince 'em for they are  
Well prepared, and without my orders, won't  
Release him. When this is done, leave you the  
Duke, the King shall both protect and reward you.  Mal. 
As my diligence shall merit, I ask no more.  [Exit Mal. Glou. 
Thy merit's death, and thou shalt find it, fool;  
Thy sting, thy venoms gone, thou hast done  
Thy best. And the Volunteers  
That seize the Prince, have orders to stop  
Thy craving mouth.  
Clarence too soon will know thee,  
Now therefore thou art useless:  Enter at rising Ground King Edward. Edw. 
Speak, Gloucester, shall haughty Catharine Mourn this Night.  Glou. 
She shall, if Tudor's blood can make  
Her weep. Here's the Key, wait the  
Signal, and prepare to glut your Eyes.  Edw. 
Oh let me hug thee close; I feel a  
Warm Vengeance rise, and joys fierce  
As is fruition, fill the big heart, which  
That ungrateful fair despised. 'Tis grown  
A Rambler now, and can be pleased▪  
On easier terms than dying.  

Yet I will see again those Charming eyes,  
But all their tears and menaces despise,  
And laugh at Catharine, when her Tudor dies.   [Exeunt.  
The End of the Third Act.   

ACT the Fourth.  

SCENE the Castle.  Enter Duke of Clarence, and Malavill. Clar. 
HEre did I expect— oh what did I not expect  
Even all the happiness my heart is fond off▪  
Cruel disappointment; yet 'tis but just;  
When man gives up his Noble Charter, his Reason,  
And is passions Slave, he should be used so:  
Oh, Malavill, couldst thou believe such falshhood  
Were in Womankind,  Mal. 
Most easily, my Lord, 'tis the common practice,  
Had she proved true, that had been the wonder.  Clar. 
Is't possible.  
Isabel was my first and only Love▪  
Pure were my flames, and my desires unfeigned  
Her returns I thought full of artless innocence,  
When in her Charming eyes I first read kindness,  
If I catched a dear relenting glance,  
How modestly she would decline 'em;  
Her lovely face covered with Vermilion blushes:  
Nay, the tears would follow. Could this all be deceit?  
Could she weep and vow and look, such things—  
And yet dissemble still.  Mal. 
'Tis natural to the Sex.  Clar. 
And is that dear false hand given to Thyrrold?  
His plighted Wife! Racks, Wheels, and Gibbets,  
Sword and fire, can their torments equal  
That cursed thought; yet when I reflect on this  
Unexampled Treachery, methinks 'tis strange  
The story most improbable, 'tis but some few hours  
A go that fair one gave me all the tenderest  
Marks of love and kindest promises; what could  
Tempt her to draw me on so far?  Mal. 
I like not this.  [Aside. Clar. 
But then how should Thyrrold know of our  
Intended flight, unless thou hast proved  
The smooth faced Villain, and betrayed me.  Mal. 
If you mistrust me, use your Sword,  
Wound me not with your unkind suspicions:  
Tardy Duke of Gloucester, I shall be ruined.  [Aside. Clar. 
I know not what to think, but should I find  
Thou hast wronged me in the tenderest part,  
The blessing of my Life, my Love, my Isabel,  
I cannot name her but my heart will rise:  
Oh, cruel Charmer think not to 'scape my Vengeance,  
For tho' the King should Guard thee, through  
His heart I'd reach at thine, seize thee  
Like a loosened Fury, and shake thee into Atoms.  Thyrrold above. Thyr. 
What mad man's this, that raves beneath our Walls.  Clar. 
Traitor, come down and see.  Thyr. 
I would, but for commands which I have sworn to obey.  Clar. 
What commands shifting Coward?  Thyr. 
Fair Isabel has hung about my neck,  
Used such prevailing arts of fondness,  
Begged with such a grace, and so much power,  
That I have forgiven both her and you.  Clar. 
Ye raging Fires, eat, eat my heart; burn inwards,  
But burst not forth, I won't answer like a Woman,  
With my Tongue alone, but Thyrrold, he assured  
I shall find thee: yes, hadst thou Giants  
For thy Guard, wert thou hemmed with Devils  
I'd Grapple with thee, and sink thee too:  
Remember that, and tremble.  Thyr. 
If I tremble it must be with delight,  
To Isabella's Bed I am going, the Priest  
Has made us one, there the soft, the melter,  
The expecting fair one lies, think you on that,  
And mangle thy own flesh.  
In distraction thy wretched bosom tear,  
Reflect upon my joys, and then despair.  [Exit Thyrrold. Clar. 
Curses, curses! Oh Malavill, in thy bosom  
Hid me, for if I look that way my eyes will burst.  Enter three or four Villains. 1 Vill. 
Yonder he stands, we may seize his Sword E'er he perceive us.  [Snatches his Sword from him. Clar. 
Villains what mean ye?  
Malavill, give me thy Sword, and get behind me.  Mal. 
No, I'll defend your life.  1 Vill. 
Fool, thou canst not save thy own.  (stabs him, he falls. Mal. 
Oh pardon me noble Sir you are betrayed and so  
Am I, the Lady Isabel is—  [dies. Clar. 
What, go on, speak but that word, that syllable either  
False or True, and I'll forgive thee all; 'tis lost in death.  1 Vill. 
You must with us.  Clar. 
Slaves, do you know to whom you speak?  1 Vill. 
Our orders are to force you, if you resist.  Clar. 
Unhand me, Dogs, I am the Duke of Clarence.  1 Vill. 
No matter who you are, you are our Prisoner now.  Clar. 
Slaves, Villains, Murderers.  [Exit forced off.  

SCENE the inside of the Castle. A Toylet.  Enter Isabel, and Esperanza. Isa. 
Methinks I tread these Royal Rooms, as bodies  
Summoned to the Grave, take their last melancholy  
Rounds, and sadly traverse over and over the places that  
They best have loved; Oh love are all that bend beneath  
Thy weight, oppressed like me? no, 'tis impossible.  
Then humane kind would throw thy bondage off,  
But alas, thy crowds of Votaries are Rovers all,  
Play with desire, catched at the eyes, and changed  
Without a pang; 'tis not, my Clarence, so with us,  
The link of Souls has fixed our meeting Passions,  
I hope beyond the power of Fate to break;  
By yond lifted tapers Show the Queen is coming,  
Be gone, my Esperanza, get our disguises ready,  
And wait me at the outer Court.  Esper. 
Madam, I will.  Isa. 
See where they come, Tudor and the Queen,  
Arm in arm they walk; Love takes up  [Exit Es. 
Every thought and every wish:  
Nor could those Majestic eyes of Catharine  
Express more pleasure, more satisfaction,  
When she beheld a Thousand ready slaves,  
Who watched each motion and fled to execute  
E'er she could speak her will; this proves  
Possessing the dear object that's beloved,  
Superior to ambition, a sublimer Joy,  
And Clarence, shall not thou and I, be thus happy?  
Yes, if in France they give us but an humble  
Vineyard joined with a lovely Cottage, there won't  
Thou meet me with such desiring eyes, there  
Shall I forget the bustle of the great, and in thy  
Faithful arms taste balmy slumbers, which the  
Busy Statesman, and the fair false one  
Never knows.  Enter Queen Catharine, Owen Tudor in a Nightgown, Ladies of Honour. 
She comes! Oh let me gaze eagerly, as the  
Transported Tudor, for Heaven only knows, when I  
Shall behold that dear, that lovely form again.  Tud. 
Haste, ye officious Virgins! haste  
Off with all these useless shining Ornaments, give her to  
My long: Oh, fairest Catharine, leave to thy  
Wanton Sex the care of dress, let them use Art  
And Skill, labour hard to make a little Conquest.  
Thy eyes will do the work alone, the Indian sweets,  
And Aromatic Gums be theirs, thy rosy breath,  
Out vie's 'em all.  Cat. 
Oh, how long is it since my ears have drank such  
Accents, I cannot chide thy flatteries, cause 'tis  
Love's excess? A Chair their for my Lord.  (Sit down. Tud. 
No, here at thy feet, grasping thy knees a happiness  
For which I've courted every Power, which day and  
Night has heard me beg of thee; at length  
Relenting Heavens—  Cat. 
Does Heaven relent, my Tudor! Oh no, that  
Hope's too full of blessings; if Heaven were reconciled,  
Then we should meet to part no more.  Tud. 
Why have ye damped mies rising Joys with the  
Detested thought of parting; ye all righteous  
Powers, if we must part again, if my fond Eyes  
Must be snatched from what they dote on, and  
Condemned to view objects which they hate,  
Grant, grant this milder doom, close 'em in the night  
Of death, least returning back to my despair, I  
Curse that Providence I would revere.  Cat. 
Hard Fate of greatness, as if it were the Foe  
And opposite to love, rarely descends, but brings a train  
Of mischiefs.  Tud. 
Yet, 'tis a glorious ruin thus to hover o'er my  
Queen, to breathe my Vows upon her Sacred bosom,  
Tho' this breath were now my last, is happier far  
Than to have lived a long insipid Age with some  
Ignoble Fair One: taste of such Seraphic bliss; is  
Worth the exchange of Nestor's years.  Cat. 
This is too much, my Tador, that soft maid just in the bloom  
Of Beauty might excuse a Lover's talking so, I  
Must not hear extravagance like this.  Isa. aside.] 
The dreadful hour approaches, uninterrupted time  
Has measured half its minutes and oh my Coward  
Heart beats faster than the warning Clocks.  Tud. 
Ye all are triflers,  
And not consider the impatiency of my desires, nor the  
Cruel Fate, which bounds my wishes and will bring my  
Foe the morning e'er I have whispered half the story  
Of my Love.  Cat. 
Fie, my Lord, my Isabel help me here! ha' thy  
Hands are cold upon me, thou tremblest too, see▪  
Tudor, see, my beauteous charge looks pale?  
Speak! what ails my choicest care.  Isa. 
Something cold and shuddering, like what  
We apprehend of death has seized me, permit  
Me, Madam, to retire, I shall soon recover, but if I  
Do not, if I die or aught that's worse befall,  
Upon my knees I beg a kind remembrace.  Cat. 
Alas, she is much disordered, lead her in; with richest  
Cordials revive her sinking spirits, and bring me  
Instant word.  Isa. 
Oh love! oh fate! Oh Queen beloved; which shall I  
Fellow? direct me, Heaven.  [Exit Isa. led off. Cat. 
Her words disjointed are, yet sure there's meaning in 'em.  Tud. 
No more, my Queen, than what the story  
Of her love allows.  Cat. 
Forgive my superstition, if I say I think it ominous;  
My Isabel sickens when my Joys are fullest in  
Seeing you again.  Tud. 
I have all my heart can wish, without a further  
Thought. My Heaven is here.  Cat. 
Ha! methinks I see a bloody hand that parts  
Our meeting arms; it points towards thee, and seems to  
Rain a shower of blood upon us. Turn towards me,  
Thou fatal Fantom; on this devoted head, let the  
Dreadful omen fall, but spare! oh spare my Tudor!  Tud. 
My Queen, my Love, my Life, do with me what you will,  
From the highest Turret hurl me down: stab your  
Adorer, rather than let me hear you talk as if  
Deprived of reason.  Cat. 
Did you not see nothing then! Oh what was it! of what,  
Was the sad Idea made! that got between my eyes and your  
Loved form?  Tud. 
Hid thy fears within these faithful arms, which long to  
Clasp thee; turn thy bright eyes into my heart:  
Oh! that you could, there, would you behold your own  
Loved Image, sitting Triumphant o'er every thought,  
And ruler of each wish.  Cat. 
Still do I tremble and feel a terror o'er my spirits, to which  
I cannot give a name. Prithee do not Judge unkindly  
Of my weakness.  Tud. 
No, I must bless your tender care, but sure were your  
Breast as full of Love as mine, there could not be a  
Room for any other passion.  Enter Esperanza. Esp. 
Murder! murder! I'm pursued by Men or Monsters  
Of the night, which from the Vault arise, and  
Fellow me with fury.  Cat. 
Then we are lost, this door's too weak resistance.  (Fastens the door. Tud. 
Surprised, unarmed! Oh for a Sword.  Cat. 
Step, my dearest Lord, into this Closet, whilst I  
Meet these bold Invaders, there may be power in  
Injured Majesty, to stop their Insolence.  Tud. 
What, must I be hid like a midnight thief, or  
Pale Adulterer; no, no, my Queen? rather let me plant  
My naked breast against this pass, and die defending it.  (A noise. Cat. 
They come. I conjure thee, Tudor,  
By honour, by love, by whatever thou holdest dear▪  
By my desires, which still were sacred, enter here.  Tud. 
I will obey, tho' I am convinced, 'tis not evading my  
Fate, but receiving the death they bring, a base  
Way, as if I feared it.  (Exit into the Closet. A noise without. Glou. 
Break down the door.  
We must have entrance.  Cat. 
Help there! ring the alarm Bell: I am beset▪  
It must be Villains, some robbers of the Camp for  
Plunder, who, notwithstanding the General's grant for  
Peace, disturb my rest, and fright me to distraction,  
Ring out the Alarm Bell: Thyrrold, where are ye?  Glou. (without.) 
We are your Friends,  
The King is here, open the door,  
Else we shall break it; if you talk of Peace, give  
Not cause for Violation; Thyrrold is with us, and all  
That he commands.  Cat. 
Then opposition is in vain?  Enter Edward, Duke of Gloucester, Sir James Thyrrold and Officers. Cat. 
Ha! is this the Courage the Plantagenets pretend to,  
Making War on Women, attacking a defenceless Queen  
Whom their own promises, if they were binding,  
Had secured?  Edw. 
You first broke the Articles by sending succours  
To your Son, and by harbouring Traitors proclaimed.  Cat. 
Sure till you entered, these Walls held none,  
Unless 'twere he which trembles there behind. (Pointing to Thyrrold.  Edw. 
He has done his duty:  
Catharine, in vain you dress your face in frowns,  
Those imperious looks are unregarded now, there  
Was a time: yes, shame to my weakness, there was  
A time when half that rigour could have struck  
Me grovelling to the Earth, like one felled by the  
Almighty Thunderer, crawling in dust, unable to  
Resist, but thanks to my kinder Stars, 'tis past: the  
Giddy Wheel has gone its round, and terror on this  
Brow alone's to be observed: Brother, proceed you  
In the search,  Cat. 
He shall not dare, by my great Henry's Soul, whose  
Little finger would have tumbled your aspire  
Down, and crushed ye into nothing, he shall not dare.  Glou. 
What has the Lion cast his Skin? is Tudor  
Crammed shaking in some close corner, and left the Queen to  
Brave us? Come, fellow Soldier's, we'll seek this  
Lurking Rebel, drag him from the hole, whither  
His fears have led him, and take his forfeit  
Head, for coming whereall our Laws denied him.  Enter Tudor. Tud. 
No, be thine the fears as thine's the guilt, as  
Thine's the name of Rebel, this honest loyal  
Heart defies thy malice.  Cat. 
Away, away, my Tudor: hold, cruel Gloucester Hold?  Enter Isabel. Isa. 
Stand off! and let me pass, what mischief's acting  
Here; has Clarence done this, and am I the cause?  Glou. 
Ha', another Fury! take her, Thyrrold, to thy dispose,  
She's wholly given— you know the rest; leave not a  
Rival room to hope, lest this opportunity proves  
Thy last.  Isa. 
Touch me not, Monster. What have I done? if I  
Am guilty, let the injured Queen punish me, let her  
Spurn me, trample on me, print me with a  
Thousand wounds, I'll not complain.  Thyr. 
You shall have no reason, Madam, but you  
Must retire, 'tis the command of him, who now  
Is master here.  Isa. 
I will not, Sir; oh save me, Royal Madam, from  
The cruel hands of these inhuman Men.  Glou. 
Force her hence, we other business have than to  
Mind her foolish fears.  Isa. 
Help heaven, if the Queen denies, help thou my  
Weakness? help! Oh help!  (Exit forced off, with Thyr. Cat. 
Alas, distracted wretch, but  
Why name I her, when all my life holds dear is  
On the brink of ruin?  Tud. 
Speak, Edward, what is my doom, dauntless, I  
Expect it, I would have met thee fairly in the field, body to  
Body, armed with Sword and Justice, but I suppose  
You liked not that, therefore now what you please.  Edw. 
Audacious Tudor, thou threaten! condemned for  
Thy Ambition, thy haughty love is adjudged a Treason  
Capital, even that Puny King Henry, whom thou  
Pretendest to serve, he had courage to Sentence thee:  
Seize him, Captain, Command his head be strucken  
Off, and fixed upon the Castle Wall.  Cat. 
Through this bosom, whosoever comes on: am I not  
Daughter of France and England's Queen? have I no  
Power? where are my Guards? Alas, I had forgot, I've None.  Tud. 
Disturb not thus the quiet of thy Soul, my everlasting  
Charmer? Thy sorrows rack me more than all their  
Rage: Come, whither am I to be led.  Cat. 
Oh, Tudor! glory, disdain, and pomp are mine  
No more, yet thou art mine, thou art yet alive, and for  
That precious life I will renounce the former; yes,  
Edward, I read the sullen pride that fills thy eyes,  
And gathers on thy brow. Glut thee this way, behold  
That Queen, who shook thee with a nod fall thus,  
Thy suppliant.  [knelt. Edw. 
And at this sight, may Heaven and Earth be  
Witness, oh Gloucester! well hast thou fulfilled thy word.  
Not all the Crowns ambition covets, England and  
France, the noblest Diadems, can please like this:  
Thus did I kneel, and thus was I repulsed; and oh fair  
Queen, if I have lost my Soul for want of pity,  
His life is poor amends.  Cat. 
Sure there is something in thee like the mixture  
Of a God and Devil.  
I cannot beg, my heart's above it:  
Yet spare him Edward, for thy future fame.  Tud. 
Oh torture, not to be endured, my life asked  
Of him, him whose life I did command.  Edw. 
Ha!  Cat. 
Oh stop, bend to hard necessity, thy words have  
Given him new rage, canst thou behold these  
Low submissions for thy sake, and frustrate all their Power?  Glou. 
You do indeed submit below your Character  
To save your wanton choice, the Idol of your Lust.  Tud. 
Villain, I'll tear out that Blasphemous tongue,  
That has profaned a Chastity  
Thy Mother never knew.  [Flies at Gloucester: Glou. 
I always go prepared for such a hug, lie there  
Presuming wretch.  (Stabs him, Tud. falls. Cat. 
Whither the arm, that arm that gave the blow:  
Cursed be my Female weakness too that could not save him.  
Oh fatal aim, speak to me once again.  (sinks upon Tud. Edw. 
Look to the Queen?  
Gloucester, thou hast done as men in power would wish,  
A cruel necessary act without the bidding,  
Yet help me, Brother, for thou I find art steady,  
And tenderness struggles with revenge: Oh, the  
Uncertainty of humane passion, for Catharine I  
Would once have died, yet now have given her  
Sorrows severer much than death.  Cat. 
Ha! who have we here, my Tudor bleeding,  
These bubbling wounds are none of thine,  
If they are, give 'em to me, I feel 'em at my heart.  Tud. 
My paradise on earth, farewell: Have patience,  
Live for their dear sakes I leave behind,  
My Children? Oh farewell?  (dyes. Cat. 
No, we won't part so soon,  
On these pale lips, I will for ever, ever lie.  Edw. 
The sight stupifies my senses:  
Let's to the field, there in the clank of Swords  
I will forget this private murder,  
For sure it cannot bear a better name▪  Glou. 
Yes, as I shall order it, when the day is ours,  
Which is now undoubted, his death breaks their Forces,  
Missing their Leader, his Troops dismayed prove useless,  
After Conquest it shall be given out,  
That he was taken and beheaded: Victory  
And Success will stop the mouth of unnecessary truth,  
And leave the following Age in doubt.  Edw. 
Captain, let the Trumpets sound,  
Wake every Soldier with the voice of Battle,  
For as the Sun must rise in blood, so shall  
His evening be, and he shall shine no more,  
Till he beholds no Rival in the British Throne:  
Gloucester, dispose of Tudor as you please,  
But to the Queen offer no violence.  
Oh Catharine! Oh fatal Beauty, what ruins  
Thy Love has made.  (Exit Edw. Cat. 
Ha', who said that if I am cursed in Love,  
I'll try to thrive in hate, to thrive in curses;  
Cursed be Edward? Cursed be all his Race, let 'em,  
Prometheus like, have their own bowels torn,  
For they have preyed upon my heart.  Glou. 
Have comfort, Madam.  Cat. 
Comfort! yes, from thy bloody hand I would  
Receive it? Daggers, Sword, and Poison, are the only  
Comforts thou canst give or I desire. Henry  
And Tudor both the rich prizes now of death,  
Then why am I spared: come on thou Murderer,  
Strike this swelling bosom, and let me mount to  
My Immortal Heroes; see where my Tudor rises  
On a Fleecy Cloud, all Crowned with  
Radiant light: Oh take me with thee! he ascends  
A pace, I cannot reach him, I'll tear this Clog  
Of flesh off: bear me, ye Whirlwinds near him.  
Vain delusive joy, cold and bleeding at my feet,  
The dear one lies. Oh, my sick brain!  Glou. 
Sleep will give you ease: Here, Soldier's, carry  
This body to the outer Court, from his dead trunk  
Severe his head; think it not cruelty,  
For he feels no further pain.  Cat. 
Ha! must he not be buried then, but mangled  
More, yes he shall, I'll hid him, I'll scrape the Earth up  
But I'll find a Grave; Receive him common Parent,  
Receive him at my call.  Glou. 
Divide her from his Body.  Cat. 
No, never! never! hear me, Gloucester!  
I will help thy invention, mend thy bloody purpose:  
Cut off my living limbs, mingle 'em with his,  
Throw upon us molten Lead, and Seas of liquid fires,  
But divide us now no more.  Glou. 
Haste, ye sluggards,  [Drag Tudor out, the Queen falls at the door. 
Gently raise the Queen,  
And in some other apartment let her be confined.  

This was a shock indeed; but this o'ercome  
Points out lost Henry's succeeding doom.    
The End of the Fourth Act.   

ACT the Fifth.  
The Trumpets play an overture of Victory: Then Enter King Edward, Duke of Gloucester, Warwick, and Lords; Lord Dacres, and several other Prisoners. Edw. 
'TIS done, the business of the War is done.  
The House of Lancaster has yielded back,  
The honours unjustly they usurped in storms,  
The Red Rose folds up her silken leaves,  
And sinks beneath a Sea of blood; from whence  
Ours the White emblem of Peace arises,  
And shall bless the Land with plenty; henceforth  
English Swords shall be no more sheathed  
In English bosoms: in Foreign Lands we'll search  
For new Acquests of Glory, for when our native  
Earth is reduced with the Blood of those we  
Call our Foes; we must blush to think  
They should have been our Brethren.  Warw. 
Then after Conquest let 'em be so received,  
To show the War was just, eat cruelty.  Edw. 
Far be it from my Nature, or if it were,  
I would submit to you, the mighty Warwick;  
Whose very name brought Victory, whose Sword  
Has led me on to all the Honours I have won.  Warw. 
I am not used to flatter, yet must say,  
A thousand eyes can witness that you fought  
Almost beyond the power of Man,  
Nor did your Brothers lag behind; thrice did I  
Fellow Clarence's rash inadvertency,  
Which plunged him headlong midst their thickest Troops,  
Yet the bold youth despised my aid,  
And with deaths a round him cleared his way.  Glou. 
I gave that fury to his arm,  
When the imprisoned Lion was let lose,  
And told that Thyrrold was amongst our Foes.  Warw. 
Why does he shun the glory's of this day,  
And having shared the danger, refuse the Triumphs,  
Which are to his valour due?  Edw. 
That's a melancholy story,  
But time will wean him of his follies:  
My Lord Dacres, I think 've long been  
Chamberlain to the late Queen, Catharine I mean.  Dac. 
I have,  
And wish more to express my Loyalty,  
My blood was mingled with theirs whose brave Souls,  
Now are mounted upwards, tho' their bodies  
Lie weltering on the plain.  Edw. 
Only do me Justice in your Reports,  
And take your Liberty, hast to your afflicted Queen:  
And tell her, Revenge, the insatiable Monster,  
Now is gorged, and shall towards her for ever sleep●…  
Where e'er she chooses, there uninterrupted,  
And in Peace she shall remain.  Dac. 
I would not, King,  
(For that title now thou hast purchased)  
Take a favour where I never mean to make returns.  
Yet thus far my Age and Sorrows force me  
To promise, no more to lift a Sword against thee;  
I've seen the ruin of my Royal master's Race,  
And in some Cell I'll not repine at thee,  
But mourn their hard fate for ever.  (Exit Da. Edw. 
A truly honest man:  
Nor would power or persuasion bend him;  
Loyalty is like Religion, that we suck in first,  
Tho' with the strongest Arguments assailed,  
Most hardly is removed, on the Prisoners  
In the List, see execution done,  
The rest be guarded with effectual care,  
Now let the sound of Victory forerun us,  
To every Quarter of the Camp, whilst we  
Receive our well deserving Soldiers,  
With Praise and Love.  [The Trumpets sound again. Exeunt. Manent Gloucester, and a Servant. Glou. 
Thus far we have done well; the Clouds are  
Vanished, and the bright Sun of Glory shines, but 'tis  
Upon my Elder Brothers, and what's all this to me?  
Edward and Clarence, two goodly spreading Oaks,  
If both stand fair, I must expect no growth.  
This Letter, as from an unknown hand, lays all the  
Odium of his Imprisonment upon the King, and  
What will touch him nearer, his Mistress loss;  
Who by this time is married to Thyrrold, or worse,  
For he had unbounded licence; the Contents of the  
Paper send him thither too; I am sure the Plot's  
Well laid, and must produce some mischief, which  
Ever way it makes for me: Here, trusty Friend,  
With your usual Caution, get this delivered to the  
Duke of Clarence.  Seru. 
It shall, Sir?  [Exit Seru. Glou. 
Were it alone to sight for  
Kingdoms, a well made thick Skulled Hero might  
Excel me, but to keep the Engine of the mind  
At work by a deep thought, to do the  
Business, and turn the fools Swords upon each other,  
There I exceed the brawny Fellows and show my  
Master piece.  [Exit.  

SCENE, the Castle.  Enter Thyrrold, Isabel, and a Priest. Thyr. 
Nay, Madam, struggle not, what was before  
Perverseness, now will become a Sin, you know you  
Are my wedded Wife.  Isa. 
Horrid profaner of heavens Laws, and ruiner  
Of me! did I not fly from thy detested hands;  
And call the Saints to witness, I would never join  
Thee? speak, Holy Father, tho' ankle deep, thou art  
Not plunged all over in Sin, was that a Marriage,  
When my Screams rend the Sacred Chapel, and  
When my spirit quite exhausted, I lay in  
Dreadful swoon, on the cold pavement.  Pri. 
You will not hear me out: I say, 'twas by  
Compulsion, yet 'twas your stubbornness  
Occasioned it, and since 'tis for the good of both,  
I pronounce it valid.  Isa. 
Say not so; Holy Father, you should  
Protect injured innocence; Oh, do not leave  
Me, stay, I conjure you stay?  Pri. 
Madam, I cannot, pray lose your hold, business▪  
Of Importance calls me hence.  Thyr. 
Slip through the Files, and bid 'em guard the  
Passage well. Look up my fair Bride.  (Exit Priest. 
Be nice and coy no more, for spite of all your  
Coldness, ye now are mine.  Isa. 
'Tis false, if there be Guardian Angels, if the  
Just powers take note of holy vows, already  
Made, they will assist my helpless cries, and keep  
Me from the curse of being thine? yet hear me,  
Thyrrold, since Villainy has born the mask of Love,  
Thus far I forgive thee, quit me now, and leave  
The reward of such a kindness to one who  
Owns a generous Soul.  Thyr. 
Have my Rival thank me! is't not so? were your  
Beauty no greater than your Politics, it had never  
Come to this. What, be a Traitor to that Queen,  
Who from my youth had fostered me, draw the  
Noble Tudor's blood upon my head, and then give  
Back the price, for which I staked my Soul.  Isa. 
Tudor dead? Oh I must prepare to suffer,  
My Queen's curse hangs justly o'er me.  Thyr. 
All you can imagine horrid, is passed; but all  
To come, is pleasing? Pleasing, oh the poor expression!  
Transports and Ecstasies.  Isa. 
Agonies beyond the bearing, and visited again  
On you: yes, Conscience will retort it back with  
Clamours never to be hushed, and stings uncurable.  
Think on that, vile man?  Thyr. 
Think and look on you, impossible! the kindled  
Fire mounts my veins, and I have already lost the use of  
Thought: Oh I will pour upon thee with desires, that  
Shall melt thy frozen heart, or cool at least my Burn▪  Isa. 
Where am I, in what dreadful vision, transplanted  
To a barbarous clime. England ne'er brought forth  
Such a Monster, there must be help. My voice shall  
Wake some pitying Creature.  Thyr. 
Again you judge me foolish; no my joys are well  
Secured, the generous Gloucester for my Treasons gave  
Me thee, since nothing else could tempt me, and with  
A Guard Alcides, if such a one there were, could  
Hardly pass; look that way and behold from this the  
Highest Lodgings of the Castle, the steps all lined  
With men armed and resolute, therefore consent,  
Comply, let me receive from kindness, what I  
Can from power. Give me thy Charms, or let me seize  
'Em; one way or other, I must be blessed.  Isa. 
Hold, Sir, as ever you have heard of Virtue or  
Religion, for, sure you must have heard of both.  
Tho' you ne'er practised the beatick rules, remember  
There will come a time when these mad passions,  
That buoy your blood up to Rapes and Mischiefs, must  
Sink with fainting nature; when the bowl can  
Cheer no more; then, Oh, reflect the horror to  
Look back on a lewd dessolute life, and forward on Eternity.  Thyr. 
Fair preacher, I shall find out better use for  
Those soft lips, than Canting thus; let me close  
Their pretty railing and warm 'em to a smile.  Isa. 
Stand off. By all my fears and woes, I feel a strength  
Celestial in my resolution, approach not, do not  
Move a hairs breadth, for if thou dost, I'll be revenged  
On those cursed eyes, that lighted up thy Impious  
Love, with these hands tear out the hated balls,  
And dash 'em bleeding in thy face, when our bodies  
Yield our minds swerve first, but I can stop  
My breath and die, yes, Traitor, I both can and dare.  Thyr. 
Oh, Isabel? where's now the Dovelike sweetness,  
Which first catched my Soul, I see by those furious  
Beams, those angry threatened threatening eyes dart  
On me, I can ne'er be blessed, yet do not think;  
Your menaces could stop me: for, know my power's  
So great, that I could force upon you life and love, or the  
Effects of Love, but since I see that force would  
Never be forgiven, that I should never come to  
Those dear arms, a welcome guest perhaps, upon  
Some terms I may desist.  Isa. 
Ha! what said ye, at such a goodness how soon  
Should I forget my terrors, and turn all my  
Curses, into prayers and blessings.  Thyr. 
Talk not of blessing, when I lose you, I lose all  
Hopes of happiness, here, or hereafter, therefore like  
The Foe of human kind, fain would I sink  
My Rival down to my Perdition.  Isa. 
What mean you?  Thyr. 
Only this, that if I send you untouched and safely  
To the Queen, you never hold with Clarence  
Interviews, Discourse, or any sort of  
Correspondence more.  Isa. 
Oh Heavens.  Thyr. 
Start ye at this then, you shall strait be seized,  
Dragged to yond Apartment, and the cursed happy youth,  
If you survive, as no doubt you will,  
Shall have but the leave of my Fires?  
What! hoa!  Isa. 
Stay a moment, what must I swear?  Thyr. 
Wish that Contagion may seize this beauteous  
Body, and Furies haunt your Soul, when you consent to wed him.  Isa. 
Alas!  Thyr. 
Nay I allow no pause, resolve on one or other.  Isa. 
Then be witness Heaven, which unassisting sees  
My sufferings here, I bid adieu to him and all mankind.  Thyr. 
This is not enough, kneeling repeat the Imprecation,  
Diseases and Despair destract ye, when ever you  
Receive him, for your Lord swear to damnation. Swear?  Isa. 
This is cruel usage, Thyrrold, to force upon my gentle  
Nature, dreadful oaths which I have still abhorred.  Thyr. 
Just now you could rage's at me,  
Your gentle nature quite forgot. Swear, or all my rage  
Returns with less Love and double Fury.  Isa. 
Then as I hope for rest when this tormented soul  
Takes its flight, he never shall possess his Isabel?  Thyr. 
Ha', ha', ha', now I find you are to be Conquered.  
In giving up your Love, you have given up that Resolution,  
Which shockt me, and since he never shall enjoy you,  
'Tis but fit I should supply his room;  
Come this way, no more preambles nor struggle.  Isa. 
Yes, whilst I have life? Oh that as I have in  
Fables read, I could in very truth be turned into a stone,  
A tree, or any senseless Mass.  Thyr. 
Your senses shall be Banqueted. If you strive  
More I must make use of ruder hands,  
I would not willingly expose my Wife▪  Isa. 
Give me to Tigers to any thing but thee.  
Is no Compassion near? Help, help.  Clashing of Swords. Clar. [Within.] 
Give way, give way: He dies,  
Whoever dares approach my fury.  Thyr. Quitting Isa.] 
Ha' betrayed! [drawing his sword.  Isa. 
Oh, I will meet that voice through  
All the glittering dangers that my Eyes behold.  Thyr. 
Stand back, you run on pointed Swords.  Isa. 
No matter, I shall not now be forced.  [As Clarence with his followers fights his way in, Isabel is stabbed. Isa. 
Ah me, it was unkind, but I shall soon find ease.  [Falls. Thy. 
Oh rash adventurer, let'em come, all the Prize is lost.  [knelt to help her. Enter Clarence, Thyrrold's men fly. Clar. 
Thanks worthy men, who have ventured thus  
Your lives for my revenge.  [Sees Thyr. and Isa. 
Ha! an Angel coupling with a Fiend!  
Rise Villain and meet my Sword.  
Or thus I'll send thee to thy native Hell.  Thyr. 
I won't fight, you are the Brother of my King  
If you kill me you know your Pardon's sure,  
Should I but draw the blood of you I stand Condemned.  Clar. 
Poor and Precarious will ye not fight for Isabellassa?  Thyr. 
She is not worth it now, your honour will not  
Let you strike a naked Bosom, and I'll make no defence.  Clar. 
Oh most detested baseness, live, drag on  
That shameful life, but fly lest I am tempted  
With thy loathed sight to an unmanly deed.  Thyr. 
Yes, I will live to act more mischiefs, if I  
Judge my Master right, that set me on to this:  
It may fall on thee.  
Torturing Love shall fill my Breast no more,  

But rage and enmity possess my mind,  
To vex and ruin the race of human kind.   (Exit Thyr. Clar. 
Oh guilty, guilty Isabel?  
Well may'st thou fall on Earth, and hid thy eyes,  
Which dare not sure look up to Heaven, after all  
These Perjuries, yet rise, follow with haste the choice,  
Which thou preferrest to doting Clarence, and let me  
No more behold thy fatal Beauties: 'tis true,  
I did come mad with a resolve to kill thy Husband,  
His Cowardice has prevented me? Oh ye cruel powers,  
Could he find no other bosom to blush away  
His shame in, but my Isabella's, mine adored,  
Thou dost not stir nor answer me, and oh,  
I dare not raise thee, but to touch thy hand,  
Would fire my soul, and set me into wild distraction,  
And therefore away, yet wilt thou not move,  
And oh, I feel a Mother's earning on me  
Towards an erring Child:  
I must gaze upon thee, tho' it gives me death:  
Ha! death indeed?  
Who has done this, my love is pale and bleeding.  1 Foll. 
Alas, how came she wounded?  Clar. 
And I cursed Villain, worse than Thyrrold,  
Instead of help have wasted time in my reproaches,  
Assist, Oh! softly, softly, touch my dying Love. (rasing her.  Isa. reviving.) 
Where am I; I'll none of Thyrrold:  
Let me go, let me go?  Clar. 
What means all this, O look and speak to thy Clarence,  
What wicked practices have been acted here:  
How came this streaming Wound; fly for some help.  Isa. 
'Tis he, 'tis he!  
Oh I will throw my Virgin arms about thy neck,  
Unused to such embraces,  
But I've been frighted, Clarence, and here I will  
Recover Peace.  Clar. 
Oh my Souls Comfort, my heart's Joy,  
Whom I'll suspect no more, this ardour does  
Convince me of thy truth, but Oh Almighty love!  
Now cannot save us,  
Whilst thus you bless me with your kindness,  
Your Life, your precious Life expires.  Isa. 
No matter, let it go, alas I am weary on't:  
Stand back, I had forgot, I have sworn never  
To see thee more, but that's no matter neither;  
I am going where there is no oppression,  
No injustice, there I shall be forgiven,  
This last pleasure dying in my Clarence arms.  Clar. 
To all my Country's happiness  
I must for ever bid adieu, it has  
No longer date than this poor breath of thine,  
Which pants and heaves thy labouring Breast,  
And grows each moment shorter: Oh Isabel,  
Must we part for ever, wretch that I am  
Bankrupt in Love, can I speak that and live?  Isa. 
Still so kind; then prithee tell me,  
Whilst I have sense to ask it, why when half dead  
With fears, I to Malavill delivered up the Key,  
You sent your cruel Brothers, to the ruin of  
The Queen and me.  Clar. 
Didst thou then see Malavill?  Isa. 
I did.  Clar. 
Cursed be his memory; it is enough to  
Say that we both have been betrayed,  
Which, when I forgive ye Brothers,  
Dogs gnaw the flesh of Clarence,  
Some death horrid and unusual seize me—  
And send me quick into Perdition.  Isa. 
Oh my Plantagenet, oh my lovely dear?  
Whose form my dying eyes pursue, though now  
They dance in mists give me not greater pangs,  
Than what death brings, when I am dead, as soon  
I shall be, for I feel the cold Tyrant creep  
O'er all my limbs, my heart holds out  
A little longer to charge thee not to Quarrel  
With the King for me;  
I cannot die in Peace to leave my love in danger.  Clar. 
Excellent goodness, unexampled patience,  
Oh thou art going and I behold it.  Isa. 
I am indeed, yet I have one thing more to ask▪  
Let me be born to the Queen, I've wronged  
And lay my dead body at her feet,  
Too poor the expiation of her sorrows, the fatal  
Ruins which my headlong passion caused.  Clar. 
And I, cursed I, the black occasion.  Isa. 
Oh no, thou ever wert my heart's desire,  
And may'st thou still remain blessed as thou hast been,  
By me beloved, have mercy Heaven on my Youth,  
Forgive my errors and receive me.  (Dyes. Clar. 
My Isabel, my Love, still there is, life,  
Her lips have still a lively warmth, I'll have her body  
Thus Embalmed, and kneel for ever by her side;  
Where is thy rosy breath retired, thou morning  
Sweetness, thus early snatched long before thou hadst  
Reached the noon of life, but hold, I had forgot my  
Friends: I pray retire I have some unmanly mournings  
Which the gust of grief for this fair Saint requires,  
That will admit of no Spectators, wait without:  
Anon I'll call ye?  Foll. 
I fear, what he intends yet dare not  
Contradict him, but will send one  
That has more power.  Clar. 
Oh my Isabel! we will part no more,  
Let the Bugbear death, fright guilty men,  
Fright those wretches, that brought thy Beauties  
To this untimely paleness▪  
One kiss, cold as Winter's Frost  
On the first peeping Flowers,  
Thou perfect sweetness hover a little, or if thou hast arrived  
The blissful seats, make intercession there for me,  
And for this death which violent passion  
Plunges me upon.  (Goes to fall upon his Sword. Warwick enters, and strikes it away. Warw. 
Are you a man?  Clar. 
A man, my Lord; yes, that's my Curse! that's  
My Misfortune: but were I a nobler being,  
At such a loss, at such a sight,  
'Twould break the temper of an Angelic frame,  
And set the Immortal on eternal rave.  Warw. 
Leave your Romantic Style, and desperate  
Thoughts, I find there was foul play; had you trusted  
Me, it might have been prevented; but since 'tis passed,  
Be calm: I would not have the world say,  
I chose to my Friend a Lunatic, and that's the  
Kindest name we give self-murderers.  Clar. 
I am so, and surely the soon mad men  
Are destroyed, 'tis best: nay, should you persuade me  
To be reconciled to life, you'd but preserve it for  
The Hangman's hands; if I live the King's not safe:  
Treason and Parricide will be my practice.  
That dead lovely Image will dwell upon my memory,  
And still excite me to revenge; no, she can  
Never be forgot, unless I plunge myself in Riots;  
Renounce my reason and remembrance,  
And leave to Fame a blotted story.  War. 
Is all your Mother's piety and careful Lessons  
Quite forgot? Oh Clarence, it would prove a dreadful  
Case, to play the Hero here, and find the Christians  
Punishment beneath.  Clar. 
'Tis worse to live on in black despair, and sin  
Beyond forgiveness: Return my Sword, for I  
Will hear no more.  Warw. 
Do not provoke me to expose your Follies:  
Your extravagancy is yet unknown,  
Think of revenge, live to accomplish that,  
In that I will assist ye, rather than  
See you fall.  Clar. 
Ay now thou speakest indeed, and charmest me  
Into life; won't thou help me in the Just work;  
Pull the aspirers down, who, without cause,  
Plotted the destruction of me and all my Joys?  War. 
Carry this fair Maid to the Queen's apartment  
And of her death give there a just account.  Clar. 
Must she then go? Is that necessary  
To our contract of revenge?  War. 
Draw off your Friends, and to my Castle  
bend your way: into this business strict enquiry  
Shall be made; yes, you shall have Justice!  Clar. 
Nay, by Heaven I will, by Warwick (another  
Oath) I will; but can Astrea, can Justice restore  
Her back again? No, 'tis impossible:  

Therefore to wild's and Seas I will remove,  
And taste no comfort since I've lost my love.   [Ex. The Curtain falls: Enter Lord Dacres and Esperanza. Esp. 
My Lord, you're come to meet news as sad  
As what you bring; to see a wretched Court,  
The very Epitome of sorrow, and the lovely Queen,  
Chief Mourner? who for her Tudor slain,  
In distraction raves away the hours she hates,  
And from her kneeling Servants refuses either  
Counsel or Support, the fair Isabel too,  
Is forced we know not where or to what Fate.  Dac. 
'Tis from examples like to these, we ought  
To learn there's no stability below,  
For if these who did command vast Empires,  
Whose eyes could see no limits to their  
Extended sway, yet when the mouldering earth  
Was theirs, could not secure a lasting happiness:  
What Emet, what Mole, but Man, would heave,  
And work on in darkness, still living on fate's decoy,  
Deluding hope; yet never reach the expected day,  
That brings us Joy Sincere;  
Show me this Royal sadness,  
The torrent of whose griefs I'll strive to calm,  
Tho' 'tis impossible to dry the source.  Curtain rising, discovers Queen Catharine sitting on a Couch, with Herbs and Flowers by her, attended. Cat. 
Here, give me more, more of the Cypress, and  
That grave shading yew, let the Carnutions lose their colour,  
And display the blooming Rose in some black die,  
Till I've made my Garland  
Dark as my Woes, and Dismal as my Despair?  Dac. 
Ha! ' is worse than I expected, Oh Henry! it  
Is not given sure for those above to view their  
Friends beneath, if 'twere this sight would interrupt  
Thy Peace, and turn thee a Sympathising mourner  
'Midst the blessed.  Cat. 
Who's there, my Lord Dacres?  Dac. 
Your ready Servant, who weeps to see the  
Majesty of France and England thus employed?  Cat. 
You think me mad! alas, Sir, I am not so happy:  
Indeed I'm trying, ' fast as e'er I can to obtain  
The blessing; but yet, I remember that Tudor  
Was, that he was, faithful, lovely, good, and  
Murdered for all that, yes, at my feet he fell—  
Come all ye Bedlam wretches, shake your horrid  
Chains, grin and scream around me, till my  
Brains are quite overturned; let me feel all your  
Stripes, and wants, and straw, so I am rid of the  
Racks my mind endures: the Trumpets when  
They sounded Edward's Victorious entrance, here  
Were such Music— yet that will not do!  Dac. 
What shall I say, words but augment the wounds,  
They cannot cure; to tell this Royal fair, that  
She once had temper, that she bore my great  
Master's loss with Saintlike patience, to urge  
That now, alas, is vain!  Cat. 
True, Dacres; for that was the work of Heaven,  
And Heaven gave me patience: but this is Hell;  
All Hell, and 'tis from thence I rave.  Dac. 
Fain I would enjoin you hear me, I dare not  
Give myself so bold a name as Friend.  Cat. 
Friends, I've none, if thou pretend' saint to aught,  
Be gone, and leave me: Leave me to earth and  
Deep despair; death and destruction are the  
Only Friends I choose. Here will I fall; strew me  
With herbs and flowers, then weep  
About me as if I were dead: perhaps I may  
Grow senseless.  Dac. 
Oh deep excess of mourning: to which I have  
But one Argument in answer: come forth ye  
Charming little ones, and raise your drooping Mother.  [He leads in the Queen's Children in Mourning. Cat. rising.] 
Ha!  Dac. 
Kneel, sweet Images of lovely Catharine! kneel!  
Speak not, but heave your little hands for  
Mercy, 'tis the Queen alone can save you; whilst  
She lives France is potent, and must be feared  
If violence is offered; but your Protectress gone  
You may be swallowed in the Whirpool of  
Ambition, and the crime forgot: See how their  
Infant eyes are wet with tears, they are frighted,  
Tho' they do not know for what.  Cat. 
Oh, Dacres! Dacres! why hast thou done this?  
Now I do remember, Tudor's words, his last  
Desire, that I should live for them, raise 'em  
From Earth, their tender knees will ache; no,  
Let 'em kneel on, they are born slaves, and  
Must, perhaps, be much longer compelled to  
Do their duty.  Dac. 
Now by the Soul of my great master, by Royal  
Henry, I read in these small lines Majestic glory!  
Methinks I am inspired to say, from these branches,  
Shall come a noble stock of Princes, which must Bless,  
And Wed, and intermixing, heal the distracted Land,  
Behold the Queen and Tudor's blooming grace,  
Nature herself can scarce make such another face.  Cat. 
Oh bring 'em near me, thou Oracle, thou soul  
Of goodness, do what thou won't with me and them.  Dac. 
Upon the banks of Silver Thames, there is a  
Monastery which seems as built for retiring Princes, so  
Quiet, and so neatly formed, near the Metropolis it  
Stands, there you may live in peace, myself will quit  
All further thoughts of Business, or of State, and if I  
Once inquire into the World, it shall be only for  
Your safety, and the good of these!  Cat. 
I thank thee, Dacres, and, I thank Heaven I am Composed.  Enter Esperanza. Esp. 
Oh horror! accumulated sorrows, like rolling  
Billows, heap upon us still.  Dac. 
Peace, the Queen but now is calm, disturb her  
With no new affliction?  Cat. 
I stand prepared, there's nothing now can shock  
Me; Speak!  Esp. 
The lovely Isabel is brought dead, the bearers  
Say, her last request was your Forgiveness, that  
She might be laid at your Royal feet, and your  
Majesty would pardon her unwilling fault.  Cat. 
Oh Esperanza! too late you told me of her  
Intended flight, Love was her only crime, yet she proved  
Fates cruel Instrument of my undoing, why  
This was, why so ordained is beyond mortal inquiry,  
And I should submit.  
Where is the poor unhappy Maid? alas!  
But she is passed it all, and  
Now finds rest; for if soft Innocence can reach  
The bright Aethereal seats; she's surely there  
Give order for our instant March; let her Corpse  
Precede the dismal journey, and let us follow as  
Those sad Friends their best beloved to the last  
Stage, the Grave.  

My Dacres, that's the sure reception of us all,  
But they sleep best who do with honour fall.   [Exeunt Omnes. Enter Edward, Duke of Gloucester, and Officers. Edw 
She's gone, and with her go all that ever  
Discomposed my Soul, now to Glory and his Country's  
Good, Edward wholly will devote himself: let us  
towards London take our triumphant way;  
That City in whose favour we are blessed.  Glou. 
You, I suppose, have heard that Clarence  
Proclaims his wrongs a loud, that Warwick owns his  
Cause, and with a Guard has sent him to his Castle.  Edw. 
Towards that rash Prince, my Lords, we doubt  
Not to approve ourselves a Friend and Brother; if  
Warwick sides with him, tho' he stands high  
In our esteem, yet we won't fear the Warrior,  
Nor call the work of Heaven his alone.  

Kingdoms are given by the powers above,  
And the chief blessing is our people's love:  
Whilst we are just, they ought and must be kind,  
No Cement does so fast as Justice bind.    
FINIS.