So easy to take rest? O happy man, Fer. Who calls? Bian. My lord: Sleeping, or waking? Fer. Ha, who is 't? Bian. 'Tis I: Have you forgot my voice? or is your ear Fer. Madam the duchess! Sit up and wonder, whiles my sorrows swell: Bian. 'Tis possible: Why do think I come? you Fer. Why? to crown joys, And make me master of my best desires. Bian. 'Tis true, you guess aright; sit up and listen. With shame and passion now I must confess, You have been only king. If there can be A violence in love, then I have felt That tyranny: be record to my soul Fernando, in short words, howe'er my tongue Did often chide thy love, each word thou spakest Poor wretched woman lived, that loved like me; Fer. O, madam Bian. To witness that I speak is truth, look here; And do confess my weakness: if thou tempt'st Bian. Now hear me out: When first Caraffa, Pavy's duke, my lord, Advanced me to the titles I possess, Not moved by counsel, or removed by greatness: I have done so: nor was there in the world Bian. True, I do, Beyond imagination: if no pledge Of love can instance what I speak is true, Fer. What do you mean P Bian. To give my body up to thy embraces; Fer. How, madam, how! Bian. I will: Do what thou wilt, 'tis in thy choice; what say ye? Fer. Pish, do you come to try me? tell me first, Will you but grant a kiss? Bian. Yes, take it; that, Or what thy heart can wish: I am all thine. Bian. Fernando! Jest not at my calamity: I kneel: By these dishevel'd hairs, these wretched tears, [Kneels. say Fer. I must believe ye; yet I hope anon, This sacred temple. "Tis enough for me, Bian. Nay, be thine: Command my power, my bosom, and I'll write Fer. Enough: I'll master passion, and triumph In you my love as it begun shall end. Bian. The latter I new vow -but day comes on: What now we leave unfinish'd of content, Fer. Best life, good rest. Sweet, let us part. THE CHRONICLE HISTORY OF PERKIN WARBECK. BY JOHN FORD. PERKIN WARBECK and his Followers are by LORD DAWBNEY presented to KING HENRY as Prisoners. Dawb. Life to the king, and safety fix his throne! Of pity; a young man, in nothing grown We observe no wonder; I behold ('tis true) A handsome youth indeed, but not admire him. Dawb. From sanctuary At Bewley, near Southampton; register'd, With these few followers, for persons privileged. King H. I must not thank you, sir; you were to blame To infringe the liberty of houses sacred: Dawb. Gracious lord, They voluntarily resign'd themselves, King H. So? 'twas very well; 'Twas very well. Turn now thine eyes, Young man, upon thyself and thy past actions. Till wanting breath, thy feet of pride have slipt Warb. But not my heart: my heart Will mount, till every drop of blood be frozen There was a shooting in of light, when Richmond Dawb. Whither speeds his boldness? The player's on the stage still; 'tis his part: Warb. Bosworth field: Where at an instant, to the world's amazement, King H. A pretty gallant! thus your aunt of Burgundy, The lesson prompted, and well conn'd, was moulded Till, learnt by heart, 'tis now received for truth. P Warb. Truth in her pure simplicity wants art The sphere of majesty: in such a court By which the sovereign is best distinguish'd King H. Sirrah, shift Your antick pageantry, and now appear your own nature; or you 'll taste the danger Of fooling out of season. Warb. I expect No less than what severity calls justice, As feed on alms: but if there can be mercy Descend to these poor creatures', whose engage ments To the bettering of their fortunes, have incurr'd Flow from some noble orator, in death I owe the fee of thankfulness. King H. So brave? What a bold knave is this! We trifle time with follies. Urswick, command the dukeling, and these fellows, With safety let them be convey'd to London. It is our pleasure, no uncivil outrage, Taunts, or abuse, be suffer'd to their persons : Warb. Noble thoughts Meet freedom in captivity. The Tower: King H. Was ever so much impudence in forgery? Hath fasten'd in his thought that he is such. 1 His followers. |