An arm resolved can guard its master's life. [They fight. J. Sh. Oh my distracting fears! hold, fo sweet Heaven. [Runs off distractedly. [They fight, Dumont disarms Lord Hastings. Hast. Confusion! baffled by a base-born hind!

Dum. Now, haughty sir, where is our difference now?

Your life is in my hand, and did not honour,
The gentleness of blood, and inborn virtue,
(Howe'er unworthy I may seem to you)
Plead in my bosom, I should take the forfeit.
But wear your sword again; and know, a lord
Opposed against a man, is but a man.

Hast. Curse on my failing arm! Your better fortune

Has given you vantage o'er me; but perhaps Your triumph may be bought with dear repent[Exit Hastings.

ance.

Enter JANE Shore.

J. Sh. Alas! what have ye done? Know ye the power,

The mightiness, that waits upon this lord?
Dum. Fear not, my worthiest mistress; 'tis a

cause

In which Heaven's guards shall wait you. O

pursue,

Pursue the sacred counsels of your soul,
Which urge you on to virtue; let not danger,
Nor the incumbering world, make faint your pur-
pose.

Assisting angels shall conduct your steps,

J. Sh. Where should I fly, thus helpless and forlorn,

Of friends, and all the means of life bereft? Dum. Belmour, whose friendly care still wakes to serve you,

Has found you out a little peaceful refuge,
Far from the court and the tumultuous city.
Within an ancient forest's ample verge,
There stands a lonely but a healthful dwelling,
Built for convenience and the use of life:
Around it fallows, meads, and pastures fair,
A little garden, and a limpid brook,
By nature's own contrivance seems disposed;
No neighbours, but a few poor simple clowns,
Honest and true, with a well meaning priest:
No faction, or domestic fury's rage,
Did e'er disturb the quiet of that place,
When the contending nobles shook the land
With York and Lancaster's disputed sway.
Your virtue there may find a safe retreat
From the insulting powers of wicked greatness.
J. Sh. Can there be so much happiness in
store!

A cell like that is all my hopes aspire to.
Haste, then, and thither let us take our flight,
Ere the clouds gather, and the wintery sky
Descends in storms to intercept our passage.
Dum. Will you then go! You glad my very

soul.

Banish your fears, cast all your cares on me; Plenty and case, and peace of mind shall wait

you,

And make your latter days of life most happy. Oh, lady! but I must not, cannot tell you,

peace.

J. Sh. Oh, that head were laid, my my sad eyes closed, And my cold corse wound in my shroud to rest! My painful heart will never cease to beat, Will never know a moment's peace till then.

Dum. Would you be happy, leave this fatal place;

Fly from the court's pernicious neighbourhood; Where innocence is shamed, and blushing modesty

Is made the scorner's jest; where hate, deceit, And deadly ruin, wear the masques of beauty, And draw deluded fools with shews of pleasure.

And how my heart rejoices at your safety.
So when the spring renews the flowery field,
And warns the pregnant nightingale to build,
She seeks the safest shelter of the wood,
Where ‍she may trust her little tuneful brood;
Where no rude swains her shady cell may know,
No serpents climb, nor blasting winds may

blow;

Fond of the chosen place, she views it o'er,
Sits there, and wanders through the grove no

more;

Warbling she charms it each returning night, And loves it with a mother's dear delight.

Alic. THIS paper to the great protector's
hand,

With care and secrecy, must be conveyed;
His bold ambition now avows its aim,
To pluck the crown from Edward's infant brow,
And fix it on his own. I know he holds

[Exeunt.

My faithless Hastings adverse to his hopes,
And much devoted to the orphan king;
On that I build: this paper meets his doubts,
And marks my hated rival as the cause
Of Hastings' zeal for his dead master's sons.
Oh, jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship,
Thou worst invader of our tender bosoms,
How does thy rancour poison all our softness,
And turn our gentle natures into bitterness?

Has drawn the vengeance of Lord Hastings on him.

Alic. Lord Hastings! Ha!

J. Sh. Some fitter time must tell thee
The tale of my hard hap. Upon the present
Hang all my poor, my last remaining hopes.
Within this paper is my suit contained;
Here, as the princely Gloster passes forth,
I wait to give it on my humble knees,
And move him for redress.

[She gives the paper to Alicia, who opens
and seems to read it.

Alic. [Aside.] Now for a wile,
To sting my thoughtless rival to the heart;
To blast her fatal beauties, and divide her
For ever from my perjured Hastings' eyes!
The wanderer may then look back to me,
And turn to his forsaken home again.
Their fashions are the same, it cannot fail.

[Pulling out the other paper.

J. Sh. But see, the great protector comes this

[Receiving the paper, and raising her. Beshrew me, but 'twere pity of his heart That could refuse a boon to such a suitress. You have got a noble friend to be your advocate; A worthy and right gentle lord he is, And to his trust most true. This present now, Some matters of the state detain our leisure; Those once dispatched, we'll call for you anon, And give your griefs redress. Go to! be comforted.

J. Sh. Good Heavens repay your highness for this pity,

And shower down blessings on your princely head.
Come, my Alicia, reach thy friendly arm,
And help me to support this feeble frame,
That nodding totters with oppressive woe,
And sinks beneath its load.

[Exeunt J. Sh. and Alic. Glost. Now, by my holidame! Heavy of heart she seems, and sore afflicted. But thus it is when rude calamity Lays its strong gripe upon these mincing minions The dainty gew-gaw forms dissolve at once, And shiver at the shock. What says her paper ? [ Seeming to real. Ha! what is this? Come nearer, Ratcliffe! Catesby !

Mark the contents, and then divine the meaning.

[He reads.

، Wonder not, princely Gloster, at the notice This paper brings you from a friend unknown; 'Lord Hastings is inclined to call you master, ، And kneel to Richard, as to England's king; 'But Shore's bewitching wife misleads his heart, ، And draws his service to king Edward's sons : 'Drive her away, you break the charm that holds him,

، And he, and all his powers, attend you. Rat. 'Tis wonderful!

Cat. The means by which it came
Yet stranger too!

Glost. You saw it given, but now.
Rat. She could not know the purport.
Glost. No, 'tis plain--

She knows it not, it levels at her life ;
Should she presume to prate of such high mat-

ters,

The meddling harlot! dear she should abide it. Cat. What hand soe'er it comes from, be assured,

It means your highness well

Glosc. Upon the instant,

Lord Hastings will be here; this morn I mean

gracious eye,

Incline thy pitying ear to my complaint!

A poor, undone, forsaken, helpless woman, Intreats a little bread for charity,

No more but this-away with him at once!
He must be mine or nothing- -But he comes!
Draw nearer this way, and observe me well.
[They whisper.

Enter LORD HASTINGS.

heart,

Lingers and wanders in my fancy still;
This coyness is put on; 'tis art and cunning;
And worn to urge desire-I must possess her.
The groom, who lift his saucy hand against me,
Ere this, is humbled, and repents his daring.
Perhaps, even she may profit by the example,
And teach her beauty not to scorn my power.
Glost. This do, and wait me e'er the council
sits.
[Exeunt Rat. and Cat.
My lord, you are well encountered; here has
been

A fair petitioner this morning with us;
Believe me, she has won me much to pity her:
Alas! her gentle nature was not made
To buffet with adversity. I told her
How worthily her cause you had befriended;
How much for your good sake we mean to do,
That you had spoke, and all things should be
well.

Hast. Your highness binds me ever to your service.

Glost. You know your friendship is most po-
tent with us,

And shares our power. But of this enough,
For we have other matters for your ear.
The state is out of tune: distracting fears,
And jealous doubts, jar in our public counsels;
Amidst the wealthy city, murmurs rise,
Lewd railings, and reproach on those that rule,
With open scorn of government; hence credit,
And public trust 'twixt man and man, are broke.
The golden streams of commerce are withheld,
Which fed the wants of needy hinds and artizans,
Who therefore curse the great, and threat re-
bellion.

Hast. The resty knaves are over-run with ease,
As plenty ever is the nurse of faction;
If, in good days, like these, the headstrong herd
Grow madly wanton and repine; it is
Because the reins of power are held too slack,
And reverend authority, of late,

Has worn a face of mercy more than justice. Glost. Beshrew my heart! but you have well divined

The source of these disorders. Who can wonder,
If riot and misrule o'erturn the realm,
When the crown sits upon a baby brow?
Plainly to speak; hence comes the general cry,
And sum of all complaint; 'twill ne'er be well
With England (thus they talk) while children go-

vern.

Hast. 'Tis true, the king is young; but what of that?

We feel no want of Edward's riper years,
While Gloster's valour, and most princely wis-
dom,

So well supply our infant sovereign's place,
His youth's support, and guardian to his throne.

Barren of power, and subject to controul;
Scorned by my foes, and useless to my friends.
Oh, worthy lord! were mine the rule indeed,
I think I should not suffer rank offence,
At large, to lord it in the common-weal;
Nor would the realm be rent by discord thus,
Thus fear and doubt, betwixt disputed titles.

Hast. Of this I am to learn; as not supposing A doubt like this

Glost. Ay marry, but there isAnd that of much concern. Have you not heard How, on a late occasion, doctor Shaw

Has moved the people much about the lawful

Such meddling priests, who kindle up confusion,
And vex the quiet world with their vain scruples!
By Heaven 'tis done in perfect spite to peace.
Did not the king,

Our royal master, Edward, in concurrence
With his estates assembled, well determine
What course the sovereign rule should take
henceforward?

When shall the deadly hate of faction cease,
When shall our long-divided land have rest,
If every peevish, moody malecontent
Shall set the senseless rabble in an uproar,
Fright them with dangers, and perplex their
brain,

Each day with some fantastic giddy change?
Glost. What if some patriot, for the public

good,

Should vary from your scheme, new-mould the state?

Hast. Curse on the innovating hand attempts it!

Remember him, the villain, righteous Heaven, In thy great day of vengeance! Blast the traitor And his pernicious counsels, who, for wealth, For power, the pride of greatness, or revenge, Would plunge his native land in civil wars!

Glost. You go too far, my lord. Hast. Your highness' pardonHave we so soon forgot those days of ruin, When York and Lancaster drew forth the battles; When, like a matron butchered by her sons, And cast beside some common way, a spectacle Of horror and affright to passers by, Our groaning country bled at every vein; When murders, rapes, and massacres prevailed When churches, palaces, and cities blazed;

Now, shame upon it! was our reason given
For such a use! To be thus puffed about
Like a dry leaf, an idle straw, a feather,
The sport of every whiffling blast that blows?
Beshrew my heart, but it is wondrous strange;
Sure there is something more than witchcraft in
them,

That masters even the wisest of us all.

Enter JANE SHORE.

Oh! you are come most fitly. We have pondered

On this your grievance: and though some there

are,

Nay, and those great ones too, who would enforce
The rigour of our power to afflict you,
And bear a heavy hand; yet fear not you:
We've ta'en you to our favour; our protection
Shall stand between, and shield you from mis-
hap.

J. Sh. The blessings of a heart with anguish broken,

And rescued from despair, attend your highness.
Alas! my gracious lord, what have I done
To kindle such relentless wrath against me?
If in the days of all my past offences,
When most my heart was lifted with delight,
If I withheld my morsel from the hungry,
Forgot the widow's want, and orphan's cry;
If I have known a good I have not shared,
Nor called the poor to take his portion with me,
Let my worst enemies stand forth, and now
Deny the succour, which I gave not then.

Glost. Marry there are, though I believe them

What fits the order of the common-weal.

J. Sh. Oh, that the busy world, at least in this, Would take example from a wretch like me! None then would waste their hours in foreign thoughts,

Forget themselves, and what concerns their peace,
To tread the mazes of fantastic falsehood,
To haunt their idle sounds and flying tales,
Through all the giddy, noisy courts of rumour;
Malicious slander never would have leisure
To search, with prying eyes, for faults abroad,
If all, like me, considered their own hearts,
And wept the sorrows which they found at home.
Glost. Go to! I know your power; and though
I trust not

To every breath of fame, I am not to learn
That Hastings is professed your loving vassal.
But fair befal your beauty: use it wisely,
And it may stand your fortunes much in stead,
Give back your forfeit land with large increase,
And place you high in safety and in honour.
Nay, I could point a way, the which pursuing,
You shall not only bring yourself advantage,

But give the realm much worthy cause to thank

you.

J. Sh. Oh! where or how-Can my unworthy hand

Become an instrument of good to any?
Instruct your lowly slave, and let me fly
To yield obedience to your dread command.
Glost. Why, that's well said-Thus then-Ob-
serve 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-
J. Sh. Alas! for pity.

Glost. Therefore have resolved
To set aside their unavailing infancy,
And vest the sovereign rule in abler hands.
This, though of great importance to the public,
Hastings, for very peevishness and spleen,
Does stubbornly oppose.

J. Sh. Does he? Does Hastings?
Glost. Ay, Hastings.

J. Sh. Reward him for the noble deed, just

Heavens !

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, even to time's end!
Let him know nothing else but good on earth,
And everlasting blessedness hereafter !
Glost. How now!

J. Sh. 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! Oh, gallant, generous Hastings,
Go on, pursue! assert the sacred cause:
Stand forth, thou proxy of all-ruling Providence,
And save the friendless infants from oppression!
Saints shall assist thee with prevailing prayers,
And warring angels combat on thy side.

Glost. You are passing rich in this same heavenly 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.

J. Sh. No, though the royal Edward has un

done me,

He was my king, my gracious master still;
He loved me too, though 'twas a guilty flame,
And fatal to my peace, yet still he loved me;
With fondness, and with tenderness he doated,
Dwelt in my eyes, and lived but in my smiles:
And can I-O my heart abhors the thought!
Stand by, and see his children robbed of right?
Glost. Dare not, even for thy soul, to thwart

me further!