Chapter 5
_Enter Duke of Gloster, Ratcliffe, and Catesby._
_Glos._ This was the sum of all: that he would brook No alteration in the present state. Marry, at last, the testy gentleman Was almost mov'd to bid us bold defiance: But there I dropp'd the argument, and, changing The first design and purport of my speech, I prais'd his good affection to young Edward, And left him to believe my thoughts like his. Proceed we then in this fore-mention'd matter, As nothing bound or trusting to his friendship.
_Sir R._ Ill does it thus befall. I could have wish'd This lord had stood with us. His name had been of 'vantage to your highness, And stood our present purpose much in stead.
_Glos._ This wayward and perverse declining from us, Has warranted at full the friendly notice, Which we this morn receiv'd. I hold it certain, The puling, whining, harlot rules his reason, And prompts his zeal for Edward's bastard brood.
_Cates._ If she have such dominion o'er his heart, And turn it at her will, you rule her fate; And should, by inference and apt deduction, Be arbiter of his. Is not her bread, The very means immediate to her being, The bounty of your hand? Why does she live, If not to yield obedience to your pleasure, To speak, to act, to think, as you command!
_Sir R._ Let her instruct her tongue to bear your message; Teach every grace to smile in your behalf, And her deluded eyes to gloat for you; His ductile reason will be wound about, Be led and turn'd again, say and unsay, Receive the yoke, and yield exact obedience.
_Glos._ Your counsel likes me well, it shall be follow'd, She waits without, attending on her suit. Go, call her in, and leave us here alone. [_exeunt Ratcliffe and Catesby._ How poor a thing is he, how worthy scorn, Who leaves the guidance of imperial manhood To such a paltry piece of stuff as this is! A moppet made of prettiness and pride; That oftener does her giddy fancies change, Than glittering dew-drops in the sun do colours-- Now, shame upon it! was our reason given For such a use; to be thus puff'd about? Sore there is something more than witchcraft in them, That masters ev'n the wisest of us all.
_Enter Jane Shore._
Oh! you are come most fitly. We have ponder'd 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 mishap.
_Jane S._ The blessings of a heart with anguish broken And rescu'd from despair, attend your highness. Alas! my gracious lord, what have I done To kindle such relentless wrath against me?
_Glos._ Marry, there are, though I believe them not, Who say you meddle in affairs of state: That you presume to prattle like a busy-body, Give your advice, and teach the lords o' the council What fits the order of the commonweal.
_Jane S._ 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 search, with prying eyes, for faults abroad, If all, like me, consider'd their own hearts, And wept their sorrows which they found at home.
_Glos._ Go to; I know your pow'r; and though I trust not To ev'ry breath of fame, I'm not to learn That Hastings is profess'd your loving vassal. But fair befall 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.
_Jane S._ 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.
_Glos._ Why, that's well said--Thus then--Observe 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--
_Jane S._ Alas! for pity.
_Glos._ Therefore have resolv'd To set aside their unavailing infancy And vest the sov'reign rule in abler hands. This, though of great importance to the public Hastings, for very peevishness, and spleen, Does stubbornly oppose.
_Jane S._ Does he? Does Hastings?
_Glos._ Ay, Hastings.
_Jane S._ Reward him for the noble deed, just heav'ns! 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, ev'n to time's end.
_Glos._ How now!
_Jane S._ 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! O 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.
_Glos._ You're passing rich in this same heav'nly 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.
_Jane S._ No, though the royal Edward has undone me, He was my king, my gracious master, still; He lov'd me too, though 'twas a guilty flame; And can I--O my heart abhors the thought! Stand by, and see his children robb'd of right?
_Glos._ Dare not, ev'n for thy soul, to thwart me further! None of your arts, your feigning, and your foolery; Your dainty squeamish coying it to me; Go--to your lord, your paramour, be gone! Lisp in his ear, hang wanton on his neck, And play your monkey gambols o'er to him. You know my purpose, look that you pursue it, And make him yield obedience to my will. Do it--or woe upon the harlot's head.
_Jane S._ Oh that my tongue had every grace of speech, Great and commanding, as the breath of kings; That I had art and eloquence divine, To pay my duty to my master's ashes, And plead, till death, the cause of injur'd innocence.
_Glos._ Ha! Dost thou brave me, minion! Dost thou know How vile, how very a wretch, my pow'r can make thee? That I can place thee in such abject state, As help shall never find thee; where, repining, Thou shall sit down, and gnaw the earth for anguish; Groan to the pitiless winds without return; Howl, like the midnight wolf amidst the desert, And curse thy life, in bitterness and misery!
_Jane S._ Let me be branded for the public scorn, Turn'd forth and driv'n to wander like a vagabond, Be friendless and forsaken, seek my bread Upon the barren wild and desolate waste, Feed on my sighs, and drink my falling tears, E'er I consent to teach my lips injustice, Or wrong the orphan, who has none to save him.
_Glos._ 'Tis well--we'll try the temper of your heart. What, hoa! Who waits without?
_Enter Ratcliffe, Catesby, and Attendants._
_Glos._ Go, some of you, and turn this strumpet forth! Spurn her into the street; there let her perish, And rot upon a dunghill. Through the city See it proclaim'd, that none, on pain of death, Presume to give her comfort, food, or harbour; Who ministers the smallest comfort, dies. Her house, her costly furniture and wealth, We seize on, for the profit of the state. Away! Be gone!
_Jane S._ Oh, thou most righteous Judge---- Humbly behold, I bow myself to thee, And own thy justice in this hard decree: No longer, then, my ripe offences spare, But what I merit, let me learn to bear. Yet, since 'tis all my wretchedness can give, For my past crimes my forfeit life receive; No pity for my sufferings here I crave, And only hope forgiveness in the grave. [_exit Jane Shore, guarded by Catesby and others._
_Glos._ So much for this. Your project's at an end. [_to Sir Richard._ This idle toy, this hilding, scorns my power, And sets us all at nought. See that a guard Be ready at my call----
_Sir R._ The council waits Upon your highness' leisure.
_Glos._ I'll attend them. [_exeunt._