網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

To some few wandering remnants, promising day,
When first they ventured on a frightful shore

At Milford Haven

Daubeney.

Whither speeds his boldness? 45

Check his rude tongue, great sir.
King Henry.

Oh, let him range:

The player's on the stage still, 'tis his part; 'A does but act. What followed?

Bosworth Field;

50

Warbeck. Where at an instant, to the world's amazement, A morn to Richmond and a night to Richard Appeared at once. The tale is soon applied; Fate, which crowned these attempts when least assured,

Might have befriended others like resolved.

King Henry. A pretty gallant! Thus your 'Aunt of
Burgundy',

Your Duchess Aunt', informed her nephew; so
The lesson, prompted and well conned, was moulded
Into familiar dialogue, oft rehearsed,

Till, learnt by heart, 'tis now received for truth.
Warbeck. Truth in her pure simplicity wants art
To put a feignèd blush on.

King Henry.

Sirrah, shift

Your antic pageantry, and now appear

In your own nature, or you'll taste the danger
Of fooling out of season.

Warbeck.

No less than what severity calls 'justice',

55

бо

I expect

And politicians 'safety'; let such beg

65

As feed on alms: but if there can be mercy

In a protested enemy, then may it

Descend to these poor creatures whose engagements

70

To the bettering of their fortunes have incurred
A loss of all; to them if any charity

Flow from some noble orator, in death
I owe the fee of thankfulness.

King Henry.

So brave!

Dawbeney. Kneel to the King, ye rascals.
Perkin's Followers [kneeling].

Mercy, mercy!

King Henry. Urswick, command the dukeling and

these fellows

To Digby, the Lieutenant of the Tower:

75

With safety let them be conveyed to London.

[They all rise.

It is our pleasure no uncivil outrage,
Taunts, or abuse be sufferèd to their persons;
They shall meet fairer law than they deserve.
Time may restore their wits, whom vain ambition
Hath many years distracted.

Warbeck.

Noble thoughts

Meet freedom in captivity: the Tower!
Our childhood's dreadful nursery!

King Henry.

No more.

Urswick. Come, come, you shall have leisure to bethink ye.

80

[Exit, with Perkin and his Followers closely guarded. King Henry. Was ever so much impudence in forgery? 85 The custom, sure, of being styled a king

Hath fastened in his thought that he is such.

SCENE IV. FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.

The scene is Tower Hill. Enter a Constable and Officers, Warbeck, Urswick, Lambert Simnel, like a falconer, a rabble following them.

Constable. Make room there! keep off, I require ye; and none come within twelve foot of his majesty's new stocks, upon pain of displeasure. [The crowd are thrust back.] Bring forward the malefactor. Friend, you must to this gear, no remedy! Open the hole, and in with his 5 legs, just in the middle hole-there-that hole ! [Warbeck is put in the stocks.] Keep off, or I'll commit you all. [The crowd laugh.] Shall not a man in authority be obeyed? So, so, there! 'tis as it should be. Put on the padlock and give me the key. [The crowd push round 10 again.] Off, I say, keep off!

[The Officers mount guard. Urswick. Yet, Warbeck, clear thy conscience. Thou hast tasted

King Henry's mercy liberally; the law

Has forfeited thy life, an equal jury

Have doomed thee to the gallows; twice most wickedly, 15
Most desperately, hast thou escaped the Tower,
Inveigling to thy party with thy witchcraft

Young Edward, Earl of Warwick, son to Clarence,
Whose head must pay the price of that attempt,

Poor gentleman !-unhappy in his fate
And ruined by thy cunning! so a mongrel
May pluck the true stag down. Yet, yet confess
Thy parentage, for yet the King has mercy.

20

25

Simnel. You would be Dick the Fourth, very likely! Your pedigree is published, you are known For Osbeck's son of Tournay, a loose runagate, A landloper; your father was a Jew, Turned Christian merely to repair his miseries. Where's now your kingship?

Warbeck.

Intolerable cruelty! I laugh at

Baited to my death?

The Duke of Richmond's practice on my fortunes.
Possession of a crown ne'er wanted heralds.
Simnel. You will not know me who I am.
Urswick.

30

Lambert Simnel,

Your predecessor in a dangerous uproar,
But, on submission, not alone received

35

To grace, but by the King vouchsafed his service. Simnel. I would be Earl of Warwick, toiled and ruffled

Against my master, leaped to catch the moon,
Vaunted my name Plantagenet, as you do,
An earl forsooth! Whenas in truth I was,

40

A prince composed of sweetness (heaven protect him!), Forgave me all my villainies, reprieved

As you are, a mere rascal: yet his majesty,

The sentence of a shameful end, admitted

My surety of obedience to his service;

45

And I am now his falconer, live plenteously,

Eat from the King's purse, and enjoy the sweetness
Of liberty and favour, sleep securely.
And is not this now better than to buffet

The hangman's clutches or to brave the cordage

50

Of a tough halter which will break your neck?
So then the gallant totters. Prithee, Perkin,
Let my example lead thee, be no longer
A counterfeit; confess and hope for pardon.
Warbeck. For pardon! hold, my heart-strings! Thou
poor vermin,

How dar'st thou creep so near me? Thou an earl!
Why thou enjoy'st as much of happiness
As all the swing of slight ambition flew at.

55

59

Bread and a slavish ease, with some assurance
From the base beadle's whip, crowned all thy hopes.
But, sirrah, ran there in thy veins one drop
Of such a royal blood as flows in mine,
Thou would'st not change condition to be second
In England's state without the crown itself.
Coarse creatures are incapable of excellence:

65

[Simnel jeers at him.

But let the world, as all to whom I am
This day a spectacle, to time deliver,
And by tradition fix posterity
Without another chronicle than truth,
How constantly my resolution suffered
A martyrdom of majesty !

Simnel.

He's past Recovery, a Bedlam cannot cure him.

70

Urswick. Away, inform the King of his behaviour. Simnel. Perkin, beware the rope; the hangman's coming.

[Exit. Urswick. If yet thou hast no pity of thy body, 75 Pity thy soul.

Enter Katherine, Jane, Dalyell, and the Earl of Oxford. Dear lady!

Jane.

Oxford [trying to stop her]. Whither will ye Without respect of shame ?

Katherine [turning from him]. Forbear me, sir, And trouble not the current of my duty.

80

84

[She steps up to her husband. Oh, my loved lord! can any scorn be yours In which I have no interest? Some kind hand Lend me assistance that I may partake The infliction of this penance; my life's dearest, Forgive me, I have stayed too long from tendering Attendance on reproach, yet bid me welcome. Warbeck. Great miracle of constancy! my miseries Were never bankrupt of their confidence In worst afflictions till this now I feel them. Report and thy deserts, thou best of creatures, Might to eternity have stood a pattern For every virtuous wife, without this conquest. Thou hast outdone belief; yet may their ruin In after marriages be never pitied,

90

To whom thy story shall appear a fable.

Why wouldst thou prove so much unkind to greatness
To glorify thy vows by such a servitude?

I cannot weep, but trust me, dear, my heart
Is liberal of passion. Harry Richmond,

A woman's faith hath robbed thy fame of triumph.
Oxford. Remember, lady, who you are; come from
That impudent impostor.
Katherine.

You abuse us,

For, when the holy churchman joined our hands,
Our vows were real then; the ceremony
Was not in apparition, but in act.

Be what these people term thee, I am certain
Thou art my husband; no divorce in heaven
Has been sued out between us; 'tis injustice
For any earthly power to divide us.

Or we will live, or let us die together;
There is a cruel mercy.

Warbeck.
Spite of tyranny
We reign in our affections. Blessed woman,
Read in my destiny the wrack of honour;
Point out, in my contempt of death, to memory
Some miserable happiness: since herein,

Even when I fell, I stood enthroned a monarch

95

100

[merged small][ocr errors]

Of one chaste wife's troth pure and uncorrupted. 115 Fair angel of perfection, immortality

120

Shall raise thy name up to an adoration,
Court every rich opinion of true merit,
And saint it in the Calendar of Virtue,
When I am turned into the selfsame dust
Of which I was first formed.
Oxford.
The Lord Ambassador
Huntley, your father, madam, should a' look on
Your strange subjection in a gaze so public,
Would blush on your behalf, and wish his country
Unleft, for entertainment to such sorrow.

125

Katherine. Why art thou angry, Oxford? I must be More peremptory in my duty. [To Warbeck.] Sir, Impute it not unto immodesty

That I presume to press you for a legacy

Before we part for ever.

Warbeck.

Let it be then

My heart, the rich remains of all my fortunes.

130

« 上一頁繼續 »