A set of chosen ruffians wait to end thee: There was but one way left me to preserve thee; To seize upon thy person- -But begone! 45 -I see his honest heart Guil. I have a friend of well try'd faith and courage, Who, with a fit disguise, and arms conceal'd, Attends without to guide thee hence with safety. Pem. What is Northumberland? And what art thou? Guil. Waste not the time. Pem. And can I leave thee, Away! Ere I have clasp'd thee in my eager arms, [Embracing. It wander'd forth, but found no resting place, Till it came home again to lodge with thee. Guil. What is there that my soul can more desire, Than these dear marks of thy returning friendship; The danger comes▬▬▬ -If you stay longer here, You die, my Pembroke. Pem. Let me stay and die; For if I go, I go to work thy ruin. Thou know'st not what a foe thou send'st me forth, That I have sworn destruction to the queen, And pledg'd my faith to Mary and her cause: Guil. I know 'tis given. But go-the stronger thy engagements there, Pem. Yes, I will go-for, see! behold who comes! 46 Love, rage, despair-and yet I will be master— I will remember thee -Oh, my torn heart! I have a thousand thousand things to say, But cannot, dare not, stay to look on her. [Exeunt GUILFORD and PEMBROKE Enter LADY JANE, reading. Lady J. G. "Tis false! The thinking soul is some. Than symmetry of atoms well dispos'd, Enter GUILFOrd. Guil. What read'st thou there, my queen? In honour of the Giver. Guil. Shall thy soul Still scorn the world, still fly the joys that court Were objects worthy to employ her faculties ? Deserves the least regard? Is it not time To bid our souls look out, explore hereafter, Guil. Does any danger new Lady J. G. The faithless counsellors Are fled from hence to join the Princess Mary, Guil. The changeling villains! That pray for slavery, fight for their bonds, And wilt thou take from me the only joy, The last defence is left me here below? Think not thy arm can stem the driving torrent, And if it be in valour to defend us, His sword, that long has known the way to conquest, Shall be our surest safety. Enter the DUKE of SUFFOLK. Suff. Oh, my children! Lady J. G. Alas! what means my father? Thy father, great Northumberland, on whom Guil. Ha! What of him? Suff. Is lost! betray'd! His army, onward as he march'd, shrunk from him, vain dream Of empire, and a crown that danc'd before me, The gaudy masque, tedious, and nothing meaning, Guil. And canst thou bear this sudden turn of fate, With such unshaken temper? Lady J. G. For myself, If I could form a wish for Heav'n to grant, It should have been, to rid me of this crown. And thou, o'erruling, great, all knowing Power! Thou, who discern'st our thoughts, who see'st them rising And forming in the soul! Oh, judge me, thou, In humble adoration of that mercy, Kneeling. Enter the DUCHESS of SUFFOlk. Duchess S. Nay, keep that posture still, and let us join, Fix all our knees by thine, lift up our hands, And seek for help and pity from above, For earth and faithless man will give us none. Lady J. G. What is the worst our cruel fate or dains us? Duchess S. Curs'd be my fatal counsels, curs'd my tongue, That pleaded for thy ruin, and persuaded Thy guiltless feet to tread the paths of greatness! Lady J. G. Oh, my mother! Should I not bear a portion in your sorrows? Duchess S. Alas, thou hast thy own, a double por tion. Mary is come, and the revolting Londoners, And tamely see thee borne away to death? |