Page images
PDF
EPUB

Conceal'd, I know not where, these fourteen years,
Craves audience from our master; and 'tis said
The duke himself is following to the court.
Hunt. Duke upon duke; 'tis well, 'tis well :-
here's bustling

For majesty; my lord, I will along with you.
Craw. My service, noble lady.

Kath.

'Please you walk, sir?

Dal. Times have their changes; sorrow makes

men wise;

The sun itself must set as well as rise;

Then, why not I. Fair madam, I wait on you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Night.--The Tower.-Lights brought

in.

Enter DURHAM, SIR ROBERT CLIFFORD, and URSWICK.-Lights.

Dur. You find, Sir Robert Clifford, how securely King Henry, our great master, doth commit His person to your loyalty; you taste His bounty and his mercy even in this; That at a time of night so late, a place So private as his closet, he is pleas'd To admit you to his favour; do not falter In your discovery, but as you covet A liberal grace, and pardon for your follies, So labour to deserve it, by laying open

All plots, all persons, that contrive against it.

Urs. Remember not the witchcraft, or the magic, The charms and incantations, which the sorceress Of Burgundy hath cast upon your reason: Sir Robert, be your own friend now, discharge Your conscience freely; all of such as love you, Stand sureties for your honesty and truth.

Take heed you do not dally with the king,
He is wise as he is gentle.

Clif.

I am miserable

The king comes.

If Henry be not merciful.

Urs.

Enter King HENRY.

K. Hen. Clifford !

Clif. (Kneels.) Let my weak knees rot to the earth, If I appear as lep'rous in my treacheries, Before your royal eyes, as to my own

I seem a monster, by my breach of truth.

K. Hen. Clifford, stand up: for instance of thy safety

I offer thee my hand.

Clif

A sovereign balm

For my bruis'd soul, I kiss it with a greediness.
Sir, you are a just master, but I—

K. Hen.

Tell me,

Is every circumstance thou hast set down.

With thine own hand, within this paper, true?
Is it a sure intelligence of all

The progress of our enemies' intents

Without corruption?

Clif.

Or my

True, as I wish heaven;

infected honour white again.

K. Hen. We know all, Clifford, fully, since this

meteor

This airy apparition first discradled

From Tournay into Portugal; and thence
Advanc'd his fiery blaze for adoration
To th' superstitious Irish; since the beard
Of this wild comet, conjur'd into France,
Sparkled in antick flames in Charles his court;
But shrunk again from thence, and, hid in dark-

ness,

Stole into Flanders, flourishing the rags

Of painted power on the shore of Kent,

Whence he was beaten back with shame and scorn, Contempt, and slaughter of some naked outlaws: But tell me, what new course now shapes duke Perkin?

Clif. For Ireland, mighty Henry; so instructed By Stephen Frion, sometimes' secretary

In the French tongue unto your sacred excellence, But Perkin's tutor now.

K. Hen.

A subtle villain

That Frion, Frion,-you, my lord of Durham,
Knew well the man.

Dur.

French, both in heart and actions. K. Hen. Some Irish heads work in this mine of

treason;

Speak them.

Clif.

Not any of the best; your fortune Hath dull'd their spleens. Never had counterfeit Such a confused rabble of lost bankrupts

For counsellors: first Heron, a broken mercer,
Then John A-Water, sometimes mayor of Cork,
Sketon a taylor, and a scrivener

Call'd Astley: and whate'er these list to treat of,
Perkin must harken to; but Frion, cunning
Above these dull capacities, still prompts him
To fly to Scotland to young James the Fourth;
And sue for aid to him; this is the latest
Of all their resolutions.

Sometimes,] Formerly. See the Introduction to this play, and further on in this page, where the word occurs in the same In the Merchant of Venice, Bassanes says:

sense.

2

"In Belmont is a lady richly left,

And she is fair, and fairer than that word,

Of wond'rous virtues; sometimes from her eyes

I did receive fair speechless messages."

List,] An old word for choose; of too frequent occurrence to require any example of its use.

K. Hen..

Still more Frion?

Pestilent adder! he will hiss out poison,

As dang'rous as infectious. We must match 'em. Clifford thou hast spoke home, we give thee life: But, Clifford, there are people of our own

Remain behind untold; who are they, Clifford? Name those, and we are friends, and will to rest : 'Tis thy last task.

Clif Oh, sir, here I must break A most unlawful oath to keep a just one. K. Hen. Well, well, be brief, be brief. Clif. The first in rank Shall be John Ratcliffe Lord Fitzwater, then Sir Simon Mountford, and Sir Thomas Thwaites, With William Dawbeney, Chessoner, Astwood, Worsley, the dean of Paul's, two other friars, And Robert Ratcliffe.

K. Hen.

Churchmen are turn'd devils.

These are the principal?

Clif.

One more remains

Unnam'd, whom I could willingly forget.

K. Hen. Ha, Clifford! one more ?

Clif.

Great sir, do not hear him,

For when Sir William Stanley, your lord chambe

lain,

Shall come into the list, as he is chief,
I shall lose credit with ye; yet this lord,
Last nam'd, is first against you.

K. Hen.

Ürswick, the light!

View well my face, sirs: is there blood left in it? Dur. You alter strangely, sir.

K. Hen.

Alter, lord bishop?

Why, Clifford stabb'd me, or I dreamt he stabb'd me. Sirrah, it is a custom with the guilty

To think they set their own stains off, by laying Aspersions on some nobler than themselves:

Lies wait on treasons, as I find it here'.
Thy life again is forfeit ; I recal

My word of mercy; for I know thou dar'st
Repeat the name no more.

Clif. I dare, and once more, Upon my knowledge, name Sir William Stanley, Both in his counsel and his purse, the chief Assistant to the feigned duke of York.

Dur. Most strange!

Urs.

K. Hen.

Most wicked!

Yet again, once more.

Clif. Sir William Stanley is your secret enemy, And, if time fit, will openly profess it.

K. Hen. Sir William Stanley! Who? Sir William Stanley,

My chamberlain, my counsellor, the love,
The pleasure of my court, my bosom friend,
The charge, and the controulment of my person;
The keys and secrets of my treasury;
The all of all I am! I am unhappy :
Misery of confidence,-let me turn traitor
To my own person, yield my sceptre up
To Edward's sister, and her bastard duke!
Dur. You lose your constant temper.
Sir William Stanley!
O do not blame me; he, 'twas only he
Who having rescued me in Bosworth field
From Richard's bloody sword, snatched from his

K. Hen.

head

The kingly crown, and plac'd it first on mine.
He never fail'd me; what have I deserv'd
To lose this good man's heart, or he his own?
Urs. The night doth waste, this passion ill be-
comes you:

Provide against your danger.

1 Lies wait on treasons, as I find it here,] i. e. Lies are ever attendants upon treason; as is the case in the present instance.

« PreviousContinue »