Bian. I will: Do what thou wilt, 'tis in thy choice; what say ye? Bian. Yes, take it; that, Or what thy heart can wish: I am all thine. Fer. Oh me- -come, come, how many women, pray, Were ever heard or read of, granted love, And did as you protest you will? Bian. Fernando! Jest not at my calamity: I kneel: (Kneels.) By these dishevel'd hairs, these wretched tears, Fer. You have prevail'd: and heaven forbid that I This sacred temple. 'Tis enough for me, You'll please to call me servant. Bian. Nay, be thine: Command my power, my bosom, and I'll write This love within the tables of my heart. Fer. Enough I'll master passion, and triumph In being conquer'd, adding to it this, 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, Each hour shall perfect up. Fer. Best Life, good rest. Sweet, let us part. THE 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) Dawb. From sanctuary At Bewley, near Southampton; registred, 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: Dare we be irreligious? Dawb. Gracious Lord, They voluntarily resign'd themselves, Without compulsion. 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 heart Warb. But not my heart: my R By By death's perpetual winter. If the sun Dawb. Whither speeds his boldness ? King H. O let him range: 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 Bur- Your Duchess Aunt, inform'd her nephew; so The lesson prompted, and well conn'd, was moulded Till, learnt by heart, 'tis now receiv'd for truth. King H. Sirrah, shift Your Your antick pageantry, and now appear In your own nature; or you'll taste the danger Warb. I expect No less than what severity calls justice, And politicians safety; let such beg, As feed on alms: but if there can be mercy In a protested enemy, then may it Descend to these poor creatures," whose engagements Flow from some noble orator, in death 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: Time may restore their wits, whom vain ambition Warb. Noble thoughts Meet freedom in captivity. The Tower: Our childhood's dreadful nursery! King H. Was ever so much impudence in forgery? The custom sure of being styl'd a King, Hath fast'ned in his thought that he is such. Warbeck is led to his death. Oxford. Look ye, behold your followers, appointed Warb. Why, Peers of England, We'll lead 'em on courageously. I read A triumph over tyranny upon R 2 74 His Followers. Their Their several foreheads. Faint not in the moment Death! pish, 'tis but a sound; a name of air; By some physicians for a month or two, 1 IS |