I

tell thee, rev'rend Lord, to that one bliss,
To be possess'd of her, that lovely maid,
As to their centre, I had drawn each hope,
And ev'ry wish my furious soul could form;
Still with regard to that my brain forethought,
And fashion'd ev'ry action of my life.

Then, to be robb'd at once, and unsuspecting,
Be dash'd in all the height of expectation!

It was not to be borne.'

Gard. Have you not heard of what has happen'd since? Pemb. I have not had a minute's peace of mind, A moment's pause, to rest from rage, or think.

Gard. Learn it from me, then: But or ere I speak, I warn you to be master of yourself.

Though, as you know, they have confin'd me long,
Thanks to their goodness, pris'ner to them here;
Yet, as I am allow'd to walk at large

Within the Tower, and hold free speech with any,
I have not dream'd away my thoughtless hours.
To prove this true, this morn a trusty spy
Has brought me word, that yester-ev'ning late,
In spite of all the grief for Edward's death,
Your friends were married.

Pemb. Married! who?

-What mean you?

Gard. Lord Guilford Dudley, and the Lady Jane.

Pemb. The news is death to me.

Gard. Nay, my good Lord,

Restrain this sinful passion; all's not lost

In this one single woman.

Pemb. I have lost

More than the female world can give me back.
I had beheld ev'n her whole sex unmov'd,
Look'd o'er them like a bed of gaudy flowers,
That lift their painted heads, and live a day,
Then shed their trifling glories unregarded:
My heart disdain'd their beauties, till she came,
With ev'ry grace to woman could be given,
And with a mind so great, it spoke its essence
Immortal and from heaven?*

* See Eccles. XII. 7. quoted in p. 372. Note.

Gard. She was a wonder,

Detraction must allow.

Pemb. The virtues came,

Sorted in gentle fellowship, to crown her,
As if they meant to mend each other's work.
Candor with goodness, fortitude with sweetness,
Strict piety, and love of truth, with learning,
More than the schools of Athens ever knew,

Or her own Platot taught. A wonder! Winchester!'
Thou know'st not what she was, nor can I speak her,
More than to say, she was that only blessing
My soul was set upon, and I have lost her.

Gard. Your state is not so bad as you would make it; Nor need you thus abandon ev'ry hope.

Pemb. Ha! wo't thou save me, snatch me from despair, And bid me live again?

Gard. She may be yours.

Suppose her husband die.

Pemb. O vain, vain hope!

Gard. Truly, I do not hold that hope so vain. These heretics have had their golden days,

And lorded it at will: with proud despite,

Have trodden down our holy Roman faith,

Ransack'd her shrines, and driv'n her saints to exile.

But, if my divination fail me not,

Their haughty hearts shall be abas'd ere long,

And feel the vengeance of our Mary's reign.

Pemb. And would'st thou have my fierce impatience

Bid me lie bound upon a rack, and wait
For distant joys, whole ages yet behind?

+ See The Editor's Preface, p. 325.

[stay?

The original reads These Gospellers. But, as I very much object to using a word, which ought to be considered with respect, as a term of reproach, I have altered it. In the same manner, in these times, we hear the term Gospel (a Gospel sermon) assumed as an exclusive title by some, and used as a term of reproach in return by others, and also the words Evangelical and Saint. Whereas, these being terms really good in themselves, it is, I think, wrong ever to use them with disrespect. When it is necessary to make use of the term, as used by others in controversy, it might be done by a periphrasis, as What a particular set of persons call exclusively a GOSPEL Sermon, -Those who call themselves exclusively the EVANGELICAL Clergy, &c.

Can love attend on politicians' schemes,
Expect the slow events of cautious counsels,
Cold unresolving heads, and creeping time?

Gard. To-day, or I am ill-inform'd, Northumberland,
With easy Suffolk, Guilford, and the rest,
Meet here in council on some deep design,
Some traiterous contrivance, to protect
Their upstart faith from near-approaching ruin.
But there are punishments-
-halters and axes

For traitors, and consuming flames for heretics.
The happy bridegroom may be yet cut short,
Ev'n in his highest hope. But go not you;

Howe'er the fawning sire, old Dudley, court you.
No, as you love your life, I charge you, mix not
With their pernicious counsels.-Mischief waits them,
Sure, certain, unavoidable destruction.

Pemb. Ha! join with them! the hated Dudley's race!
Who, while they held me in their arms, betray'd me;
Scorn'd me for not suspecting they were villains,
And made a mockery of my easy friendship.
No, when I do, dishonour be my portion.

Gard. I would not have you-Hie you to the city,
And join with those who love our ancient faith.
Gather your friends about you, and be ready
T'assert our zealous Mary's royal title.

And doubt not but her grateful hand shall give you
Reward abundant when she holds the sceptre.
The church shall pour her ample treasures forth too,
And pay you with ten thousand years of pardon.

Pemb. No; keep your blessing back, and give me Give me to tell that soft deceiver Guilford, [vengeance; Thus, traitor, hast thou done, thus hast thou wrong'd And thus thy treason finds a just reward.

[me, Gard. But soft! no more! the Lords o' th' Council

come.

Ha! look you there, the bride and bridegroom too!
Retire with me, my Lord; we must not meet them.
Pemb. 'Tis they themselves, must I say happy pair!
Haste, Winchester, haste! let us fly for ever,
And drive her from my very thoughts, if possible.

Oh! love, what have I lost!-Oh! rev'rend Lord! 6 Pity this fond, this foolish weakness in me! Methinks, I go like our first wretched father, When from his blissful garden he was driv'n: Like me he went despairing, and like me, Thus at the gate stopt short for one last view; Then with the cheerless partner of his woe, "He turn'd him to the world that lay below: There, for his Eden's happy plains, beheld A barren, wild, uncomfortable field; 'He saw, 'twas vain the ruin to deplore, "He tried to give the sad remembrance o'er; The sad remembrance still return'd again, And his lost paradise renew'd his pain.'

[Exeunt Pembroke and Gardiner. Enter Lord GUILFORD and Lady JANE. Guil. What shall I say to thee, my lovely bride! How teach my tongue to tell thee what I feel; To pour the transports of my bosom forth, And make thee partner of the joy dwells there? For thou art comfortless, full of affliction, 'Heavy of heart as the forsaken widow,

And desolate as orphans.' Oh, my fair one! Thy Edward (fear not).shines amongst the saints, And yet thy sorrows seek him in the grave.

L.J. Gray. Alas, my dearest Lord! a thousand griefs Beset my anxious heart; and yet, as if

The burden were too little, I have added

The weight of all thy cares; and, like the miser,
Increase of wealth has made me but more wretched.
The morning light seems not to rise as usual;

6 It dawns not to me, like my virgin days,

But brings new thoughts and other fears upon me;'

I tremble, and my anxious heart is pain'd,

Lest ought but good should happen to my Guilford.
Guil. What else than good shall thy fond Guilford call
Whatever comes whilst he has thee,-to him
All that this world can give?

L. J. Gray. Why came we hither?
Why was I drawn to this unhappy place,

This Tow'r, so often stain'd with royal blood?
Here the fourth Edward's helpless sons were murder'd,
And pious Henry fell by ruthless Gloster:

Is this the place allotted for rejoicing?

The bow'r adorn'd to keep our nuptial feast in?
Methinks suspicion and distrust dwell here,
Staring with meagre forms thro' grated windows;
Death lurks within, and unrelenting punishment;
Without, grim danger, fear, and fiercest pow'r
Sit on the rude old tow'rs and Gothic battlements:
While horror overlooks the dreadful wall,
And frowns on all around.

Guil. In safety here,

The Lords o' th' Council have this morn decreed
To meet, and with united care support

The feeble tott'ring state.' To thee, my Princess,
Whose royal veins are rich in Henry's blood,
With one consent the noblest heads are bow'd ;*
From thee they ask a sanction to their counsels,
And from thy healing hand expect a cure
For England's loss in Edward.

L. J. Gray. How! from me!

Alas, my Lord!-But, sure, thou mean'st to mock me?
Guil. My faithful heart to mock thee could not bend.
But see, thy mother, gracious Suffolk, comes

To intercept my story: she shall tell thee;
For in her look I read the lab'ring thought,
What vast event thy life is now disclosing.

Enter the Duchess of SUFFOLK.

[more,

Duch. Suff. No more complain, indulge thy tears no Thy pious grief has giv'n the grave its due: Let thy heart kindle with the highest hopes; Expand thy bosom, let thy soul enlarg'd' Make room to entertain the coming glory; For Majesty and purple greatness court thee: Homage and low subjection wait: A crown,

"And he bowed the heart of all the men of Judah, even as the "heart of one man".

2 Samuel XIX. 14