_Glos._ Why, that's well said--Thus then--Observe me well.

The state, for many high and potent reasons, Deeming my brother Edward's sons unfit For the imperial weight of England's crown--

_Jane S._ Alas! for pity.

_Glos._ Therefore have resolv'd To set aside their unavailing infancy And vest the sov'reign rule in abler hands.

This, though of great importance to the public Hastings, for very peevishness, and spleen, Does stubbornly oppose.

_Jane S._ Does he? Does Hastings?

_Glos._ Ay, Hastings.

_Jane S._ Reward him for the n.o.ble deed, just heav'ns!

For this one action, guard him and distinguish him With signal mercies, and with great deliverance; Save him from wrong, adversity, and shame, Let never-fading honours flourish round him, And consecrate his name, ev'n to time's end.

_Glos._ How now!

_Jane S._ The poor, forsaken, royal little ones!

Shall they be left a prey to savage power?

Can they lift up their harmless hands in vain, Or cry to heaven for help, and not be heard?

Impossible! O gallant, generous, Hastings, Go on; pursue, a.s.sert, the sacred cause: Stand forth, thou proxy of all-ruling Providence, And save the friendless infants from oppression.

Saints shall a.s.sist thee with prevailing prayers, And warring angels combat on thy side.

_Glos._ You're pa.s.sing rich in this same heav'nly speech, And spend it at your pleasure. Nay, but mark me!

My favour is not bought with words like these.

Go to--you'll teach your tongue another tale.

_Jane S._ No, though the royal Edward has undone me, He was my king, my gracious master, still; He lov'd me too, though 'twas a guilty flame; And can I--O my heart abhors the thought!

Stand by, and see his children robb'd of right?

_Glos._ Dare not, ev'n for thy soul, to thwart me further!

None of your arts, your feigning, and your foolery; Your dainty squeamish coying it to me; Go--to your lord, your paramour, be gone!

Lisp in his ear, hang wanton on his neck, And play your monkey gambols o'er to him.

You know my purpose, look that you pursue it, And make him yield obedience to my will.

Do it--or woe upon the harlot's head.

_Jane S._ Oh that my tongue had every grace of speech, Great and commanding, as the breath of kings; That I had art and eloquence divine, To pay my duty to my master's ashes, And plead, till death, the cause of injur'd innocence.

_Glos._ Ha! Dost thou brave me, minion! Dost thou know How vile, how very a wretch, my pow'r can make thee?

That I can place thee in such abject state, As help shall never find thee; where, repining, Thou shall sit down, and gnaw the earth for anguish; Groan to the pitiless winds without return; Howl, like the midnight wolf amidst the desert, And curse thy life, in bitterness and misery!

_Jane S._ Let me be branded for the public scorn, Turn'd forth and driv'n to wander like a vagabond, Be friendless and forsaken, seek my bread Upon the barren wild and desolate waste, Feed on my sighs, and drink my falling tears, E'er I consent to teach my lips injustice, Or wrong the orphan, who has none to save him.

_Glos._ 'Tis well--we'll try the temper of your heart.

What, hoa! Who waits without?

_Enter Ratcliffe, Catesby, and Attendants._

_Glos._ Go, some of you, and turn this strumpet forth!

Spurn her into the street; there let her perish, And rot upon a dunghill. Through the city See it proclaim'd, that none, on pain of death, Presume to give her comfort, food, or harbour; Who ministers the smallest comfort, dies.

Her house, her costly furniture and wealth, We seize on, for the profit of the state.

Away! Be gone!

_Jane S._ Oh, thou most righteous Judge---- Humbly behold, I bow myself to thee, And own thy justice in this hard decree: No longer, then, my ripe offences spare, But what I merit, let me learn to bear.

Yet, since 'tis all my wretchedness can give, For my past crimes my forfeit life receive; No pity for my sufferings here I crave, And only hope forgiveness in the grave.

[_exit Jane Sh.o.r.e, guarded by Catesby and others._

_Glos._ So much for this. Your project's at an end. [_to Sir Richard._ This idle toy, this hilding, scorns my power, And sets us all at nought. See that a guard Be ready at my call----

_Sir R._ The council waits Upon your highness' leisure.

_Glos._ I'll attend them. [_exeunt._

SCENE II. THE COUNCIL CHAMBER.

_The Duke of Buckingham, Earl of Derby, Bishop of Ely, Lord Hastings, and others, discovered in council.

The Duke of Gloster enters, and takes his place at the upper end._

_Der._ In happy times we are a.s.sembled here, To point the day, and fix the solemn pomp, For placing England's crown, with all due rites, Upon our sovereign Edward's youthful brow.

_Lord H._ Some busy, meddling, knaves, 'tis said, there are, As such will still be prating, who presume To carp and cavil at his royal right; Therefore, I hold it fitting, with the soonest, T' appoint the order of the coronation; So to approve our duty to the king, And stay the babbling of such vain gainsayers.

_Der._ We all attend to know your highness' pleasure. [_to Gloster._

_Glos._ My lords, a set of worthy men you are, Prudent and just, and careful for the state; Therefore, to your most grave determination I yield myself in all things; and demand What punishment your wisdom shall think meet T' inflict upon those d.a.m.nable contrivers, Who shall, with potions, charms, and witching drugs, Practise against our person and our life!

_Lord H._ So much I hold the king your highness' debtor, So precious are you to the commonweal, That I presume, not only for myself, But in behalf of these my n.o.ble brothers, To say, whoe'er they be, they merit death.

_Glos._ Then judge yourselves, convince your eyes of truth: Behold my arm, thus blasted, dry, and wither'd, [_pulling up his sleeves._ Shrunk like a foul abortion, and decay'd, Like some untimely product of the seasons, Robb'd of its properties of strength and office.

This is the sorcery of Edward's wife, Who, in conjunction with that harlot Sh.o.r.e, And other like confed'rate midnight hags, By force of potent spells, of b.l.o.o.d.y characters, And conjurations horrible to hear, Call fiends and spectres from the yawning deep, And set the ministers of h.e.l.l at work, To torture and despoil me of my life.

_Lord H._ If they have done this deed----

_Glos._ If they have done it!

Talk'st thou to me of ifs, audacious traitor!

Thou art that strumpet witch's chief abettor, The patron and complotter of her mischiefs, And join'd in this contrivance for my death.

Nay start not, lords--What ho! a guard there, sirs!

_Enter Guards._

Lord Hastings, I arrest thee of high treason.

Seize him, and bear him instantly away.

He sha' not live an hour. By holy Paul, I will not dine before his head be brought me.

Ratcliffe, stay thou, and see that it be done: The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.

[_exeunt Gloster and Lords._

_Lord Hastings, Sir Richard Ratcliffe, and Guards, remain._