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And wond'ring how thy soul could choose a partner
Guil. How could my tongue
in-born truth unknowing to dissemble ! Thou art the man in whom my soul delights, In whom, Dext Heav'n, I trust.
Pem. Oh! gen'rous youth!
Guil. So would I;
Pem. Oh! Why should she, a good to all around hes
Guil. Heaven forbid ! But tell me, Pembroke, is it not in virtue 'To arm against this proud imperious passion? • Does holy friendship dwell so near to envy,
She could not bear to see another happy ?"
Pemb. Name it not,
Guil. And, yet, I think,
were thy lot to prosper, And mine to be refuse. Tho', sure, the loss Would wound me to the heart.
Pemb. Ila! could'st thou bear it ? And, yet, perhaps, thou might'st: Thy gentle temper Is form’d with passions mix'd in due proportion, Where no one over-bears nor plays the tyrant,
But join in Nature's business and thy happiness :'
While mine, disdaining reason and her laws,
Enter Sir John GATES.*
Pemb. I attend their pleasure. [Exit Sir J. G.
[Exit Pembroke: Guil. How cross the ways of life lie! While we think We travel on direct in one high road, And have our journey's end oppos’d in view, A thousand thwarting paths break in upon us, To puzzle and perplex our wand'ring steps. Love, friendship, hatred, in their turns mislead us, And ev'ry passion has its separate interest. Where is that piercing foresight can unfold Where all this mazy error will have end, And tell what will befall to me and Pembroke! - There is but one end certain, that is- -death: • Yet e'en that certainty is still uncertain.
For, of these several tracks which lie before us, (We know that one leads certainly to death, 6 But know not which that one is.' 'Tis in vain, This blind divining ; let me think no more on't: And, see, the mistress of our fate appears!
* In the 4to. it is Enter a Messenger.
Enter Lady JANE Gray with attendants. Hail, princely maid! who with auspicious beauty Cheer'st ev'ry drooping heart in this sad place, Who, like the silver regent of the night, Lift'st up thy beams benign upon the land, To bid the gloom look gay, dispel our horrors And make us less lament the setting sun. L. J. Gray. Yes, Guilford, well dost thou compare
Guil. He lives as yet,
L. J. Gray. May choirs of angels, waiting to receive “ Tune their melodious harps to some high strain, [him, • And waft him upwards with a song of triumph :' Oh, Guilford! what remams for wretched England, When he, our guard and growing hope, forsakes us?
Guil. I own my heart bleeds inward at the thought, ' And rising horrors crowd the opening scene.' And yet, forgive me, thou, my native country, Thou land of liberty, thou nurse of heroes, Forgive me, if, in spite of all thy dangers, New springs of pleasure flow within my bosom, When thus 'tis giv'n me to behold with wonder The excelling hand which moulds the human visage, • Giving each day new patterns of its skill, And yet at once surpassing them.' L. J. Gray. Vain flattery ! Harsh and ill-sounding ever to my ear; • But, on a day like this, the raven's note « Strikes on my sense more sweetly. But, no more, "I charge thee touch th' ungrateful theme no more;' Lead me to pay my duty to the king,
To wet his pale cold hand with these last tears,
Guil. Were I like dying Edward, sure a touch
my full heart is pain’d with ardent love,
vain purpose, ( When the wan King of Terrors stalks before us,' When universal ruin gathers round, And no escape is left us? Are we not Like wretches in a storm, whom ev'ry moment The greedy deep is gaping to devour?
Around us see the pale despairing crew,
One solemn thought of death does all employ,
The SCENE continues.
Enter the Duke of NorthUMBERLAND, and the
Duke of SUFFOLK. North. Yet then be cheerd, my heart, amidst thy
mourning, Tho' gloom hang heavy o'er us, tho' pale fear "And wild distraction sit on ev'ry face;'.
Tho' never day of grief was known like this,
Suff. I know not what my secret soul presages,
Some better day, some train of things concurring, 6 For love to kindle up a holy flame.
But, you, my noble brother, would prevail, 6 And I have yielded to you.'
North. Doubt not any thing; Nor hold the hour ill-suited. That good Hear'n, 6 Who softens the corrections of his hand, • And mixes still a comfort with afflictions," Has giv'n to-day a blessing in our children, To wipe away our tears for dying Edward.*
Suff. In that I trust. Good angels be our guard,
vain. But see! my wife!
heart? What shall I say, to bless you for this goodness ? Oh! gracious princess! But my life is yours, And all the business of my years to come, Is, to attend with humblest duty on you, And pay my
vow'd obedience at your feet. Duch. Suff. Yes, noble youth, I share in all thy joys, * In all the joys which this sad day can give. • The dear delight I have to call thee son,
* From this and the subsequent parts of the act it appears that Rowe makes the marriage of Lord Guilford Dudley with Lady Jane Gray and the death of Edward Vt. to have happened on the same day; but in reality the foriner took place towards the end of May, and the latter July 6, 1553, See the Editor's Preface, p. 328, 320, S47.
+ See the Editor's Preface, p. 323.