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Guil. The changeling villains !
Fall down before this dreadful devil, Tyranny,
L. J. Gray. Art thou not all my treasure, all my And wo't thou take from me the only joy,
Enter the Duke of SUFFOLK.
Suff. Oh, my son !
Guil. Ha! What of him?
Suff. Is lost! betray'd !
and melted by his side :
Which, ere we can essay to count, is vanish’d.'
Little avail'd the semblance of that loyalty :
Waiting in idle mockery around us;
The gaudy masque, tedious, and nothing meaning, Is vanish'd all at once-Why, fare it well.
Guil. And canst thou bear this sudden turn of fate, With such unshaken temper?
L. J. Gray. For myself, If I could form a wish for Heav'n to grant, It should have been to rid me of this crowlt. And thou, o'er-ruling, great, all-knowing Power! Thou, who discern'st our thoughts, who see'st them rising And forming in the soul, Oh judge me, Thou ! If e'er ambition's guilty fires have warm'd me, If e'er my heart inclin'd to pride, to power, Or join'd in being a queen. I took the sceptre To save this land, thy people, and thy altars : And now, behold, I bend my grateful knee, [Kneeling. In humble adoration of that mercy, Which quits me of the vast unequal task.
Enter the Duchess of SUFFOLK. Duch. Suff. Nay, keep that posture still; and let us Fix all our knees by thine, lift up our hands, (join, And seek for help and pity from above, For earth and faithless man will give us none. L. J. Gray. What is the worst that now we're threa. .
ten'd with? Duch. Suff. My counsels have been fatal, 'twas my That pleaded for thy ruin, and persuaded (tongue Thy guiltless feet to tread the paths of greatness! My child ! I have undone thee!
* See Burnet, R. 239.
L. J. Gray. Oh, my mother!
Duch. Suff. Alas, thou hast thy own, a double portion.
Guil. Ha! seiz'd! shalt thou be seiz'd ? and shall I And tamely see thee borne away to death? [stand, Then branded be my.coward name for ever. No, I will set myself to guard this spot, To which our narrow empire now is shrunk. Here will I grow the bulwark of my queen; Nor shall the hand of violence profane thee, Until my breast has born a thousand wounds, Till this torn mangled body sink at once A heap of purple ruin at thy feet.
L. J. Gray. And could thy rash distracted rage do Draw thy vain sword against an armed multitude, (thus?
Only to have my poor heart split with horror,
To see thee stabb’d and butcher'd here before me?' Oh, call thy better nobler courage to thee, And let us meet this adverse fate with patience !
Greet our insulting foes with equal tempers,
With even brows, and souls secure of death ; 6 Here stand unmov'd; as once the Roman senate
Receiv'd fierce Brennus, * and the conquering Gauls,
* Brennus was general of the Galli Senones, who went into Italy with a powerful army about 391 before Christ, defeated the Romans at ihe river Atria, and entered their city without opposition. The Romans fed into the capitol, where they stood out, tili Camillus, who was in 'banishment, marched to the relief of his country, and so totally defeated the Gauls, that pot one remained to carry back the news of their destruction,
« Till ev'n the rude Barbarians stood amaz'd " At such superior virtue.' Be thyself, For see the trial comes ! Enter the Eurl of Sussex, GARDINER, OFFICERS,
and SOLDIERS. Suss. Guards, execute your orders; seize the traitors: Here my commission ends. To you, my lord,
your wise care the pious Queen commends
Gard. Unnumber'd blessings fall upon her head,
Suss. The Queen is on her ent'rance, and expects me: My Lord, farewel.
Gard. Farewel, right-noble Sussex:
L. J. Gray. That stroke was unexpected.
[Exit Gar. Guil. Inhuman, monstrous, unexampl'd cruelty! Oh, tyrant! but the task becomes thee well;
Thy savage temper joys to do death's office;
To tear the sacred bands of love asunder,
Duch. Suff. To let us waste the little rest of life
Suff. Then it had not
Guil. Thou stand'st unmov'd;
It starts in spite of thee, but I will catch it; 5 Nor let the earth be wet with dew so rich.'
L. J. Gray. And dost thou think, my Guilford, I can
Guil. Give way, and let the gushing torrent come;
L. J. Gray. Guilford ! no : The time for tender thoughts and soft endearments Is fled away and gone : joy has forsaken us; Our hearts have now another part to play.; They must be steel'd with some uncommon fortitude, That, fearless, we may tread the paths of horror; And in despite of all our foes' dread pow'r, Ev'n in the hour of death, be more than conqu’rors.t
See p. 161, and Note t. +" In all these things we are more than conquerors through him #ibat lored us.”
Rom. viii. 37.