LOVEL.

How strange this passionate behaviour shews in

you!

Sure you think me some weak one.

JOHN.

Pray pardon me some fears.

You have now the pledge of a dear father's life. I am a son-would fain be thought a loving one; allow me some fears: do not despise

You

may

me,

If, in a posture foreign to my spirit,

And by our well-knit friendship I conjure you, Touch not Sir Walter's life.

(kneels) You see these tears. My father's an old man. Pray let him live.

LOVEL.

I must be bold to tell you, these new freedoms Shew most unhandsome in you.

JOHN. (rising)

Ha! do you say so?

Sure, you are not grown proud upon my secret!
Ah! now I see it plain. He would be babbling.
No doubt a garrulous and hard-fac'd traitor-
But I'll not give you leave.
(draws)

LOVEL.

What does this madman mean?

JOHN.

Come, sir; here is no subterfuge.

You must kill me, or I kill

LOVEL.

you.

(drawing)

A broken cavalier has seldom much

He can bequeath: an old worn peruke,
A snuff-box with a picture of Prince Rupert,
A rusty sword he'll swear was used at Naseby,
Though it ne'er came within ten miles of the
place;

And, if he's very rich,

A cheap edition of the Icon Basilike,

Is mostly all the wealth he dies possest of.

You say few prayers, I fancy;

So to it again.

(they fight again. Lovel is disarmed.)

LOVEL.

You had best now take my life. I

guess you

mean it.

JOHN. (musing.)

No:-Men will say I fear'd him, if I kill'd him. Live still, and be a traitor in thy wish,

But never act thy thought, being a coward. That vengeance, which thy soul shall nightly thirst for,

And this disgrace I've done you cry aloud for, Still have the will without the power to execute. So now I leave you,

Feeling a sweet security. No doubt

My secret shall remain a virgin for you !—

(goes out, smiling in scorn.) LOVEL. (rising.)

For once you are mistaken in your man.
The deed you wot of shall forthwith be done.
A bird let loose, a secret out of hand,
Returns not back. Why, then 'tis baby policy
To menace him who hath it in his keeping.
I will go look for Gray;

Then, northward ho! such tricks as we shall play

Have not been seen, I think, in merry Sherwood, Since the days of Robin Hood, that archer good.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE-An Apartment in Woodvil Hall.

JOHN WOODVIL. (alone.)

A weight of wine lies heavy on my head,
The unconcocted follies of last night.
Now all those jovial fancies, and bright hopes,
Children of wine, go off like dreams.

This sick vertigo here

Preacheth of temperance, no sermon better. These black thoughts, and dull melancholy, That stick like burrs to the brain, will they ne'er leave me ?

Some men are full of choler, when they are

drunk ;

Some brawl of matter foreign to themselves;

And some, the most resolved fools of all,

Have told their dearest secrets in their cups.

SCENE-The Forest.

SIR WALTER.

SIMON.

LOVEL. GRAY.

LOVEL.

Sir, we are sorry we cannot return your French salutation.

GRAY.

Nor otherwise consider this garb you trust to than as a poor disguise.

LOVEL.

Nor use much ceremony with a traitor.

GRAY.

Therefore, without much induction of superfuous words, I attach you, Sir Walter Woodvil, of High Treason, in the King's name.

LOVEL.

And of taking part in the great Rebellion against our late lawful Sovereign, Charles the First.

SIMON.

John has betrayed us, father.

LOVEL.

Come, Sir, you had best surrender fairly. We know you, Sir.

SIMON.

Hang ye, villains, ye are two better known