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That thou, Lord Guilford, and the Lady Jane,
L. y. Gray. What! turn apostate ?
Gar. This one condition only seals your pardon:
Pem. 'Tis false as hell: The mercy of the queen was free and full. Think’st thou that princes merchandize their grace, As Roman priests their pardons ? “ Do they barter, “ Screw up, like you, the buyer to a price, " And doubly sell what was design’d a gift?” Gar. My lord, this language ill beseems your noble
ness ; Nor come I here to bandy words with madmen. Behold the royal signet of the queen, Which amply speaks her meaning. You, the pris'ners, Have heard, at large, its purport, and must instantly Resolve upon the choice of life or death.
Pem. Curse on -But wherefore do I loiter here? I'll to the queen this moment, and there know What 'tis this mischief-making priest intends. [Exit.
Gar. Your wisdom points you out a proper course. A word with you, Lieutenant.
[Talks with the Lieutenant aside.
Guil. Must we part then? What are those hopes that flatter'd us but now; Those joys, that, like the spring, with all its flow’rs, Pour'd out their pleasures ev'ry where around us ? In one poor minute gone; “ at once they wither'd, " And left their place all desolate behind them." L. 7. Gray. Such is this foolish world, and such
Guil. Yes, I will copy thy divine example,
faith. “ From thee, thou angel of my heart, I learn “ That greatest, hardest task, to part with thee." L. J. Gray. Oh, gloriously resolv'd! “ Heav'n is
my witness, “ My heart rejoices in thee more ev'n now, “ Thus constant as thou art, in death thus faithful, “ Than when the holy priest first join'd our hands, " And knit the sacred knot of bridal love." Gar. The day wears fast; Lord Guilford, have you
Guil. What are the terms ?
Guil. 'Tis determin'd: Lead to the scaffold.
Gar. Bear him to his fate.
Guil. Oh, let me fold thee once more in my arms, Thou dearest treasure of my heart, and print A dying husband's kiss upon thy lip! Shall we not live again, ev'n in those forms ? Shall I not gaze upon thee with these eyes ? L. 7. Gray. Oh, wherefore dost thou sooth me
with thy softness ?
“ Guil. Rest on that hope, my soul--my wife-
[Guilford is led off by the guard.
[Supporting L. 7. Gray. Wo’t thou fail now The killing
stroke is past, And all the bitterness of death is o'er.
Gar. Here let the dreadful hand of vengeance stay; Have pity on your youth, and blooming beauty; “ Cast not away the good whick Heav'n bestows ;"
may have many years in store for you, All crown'd with fair prosperity. Your husband Has perish'd in perverseness.
L. 7. Gray. Cease, thou raven, Nor violate, with thy profaner malice, My bleeding Guilford's ghost—'Tis gone, 'tis flown: But lingers on the wing, and waits for me.
[ The scene draws, and discovers a scaffold hung with
black, Executioner and Guards. And see my journey's end. 1 Wom. My dearest lady.
[Weeping 2 Wom. Oh, misery!" L. 7. Gray. Forbear my gentle maids, Nor wound my peace with fruitless lamentations; The good and gracious hand of Providence Shall raise you better friends than I have been.
1 Wom. Oh, never, never !
L. 7. Gray. Help to disarray,
« Thou, Maria,
[To 1 Wom. " Hast been my old, my very faithful servant : « In dear remembrance of thy love, I leave thee “ This book, the law of everlasting truth: “ Make it thy treasure still ; 'twas my support, " When all help else forsook me."
Gar. Will you yet Repent, be wise, and save your precious life? L. 7. Gray. Oh, Winchester! has learning taught
Gar. Mistaken folly!
L. 7. Gray. Who judge rightly,
[To her women. Goodness be ever with you. " When I'm dead, “ Entreat they do no rude, dishonest wrong “ To my cold, headless corpse; but see it shrouded, " And decent laid in earth.”
Gar. Wo't thou then die ? Thy blood be on thy head.
L. 7. Gray. My blood be where it falls; let the earth v
And may it never rise, or call for vengeance. Oh, that it were the last shall fall a victim To zeal's inhuman wrath! Thou, gracious Heaven, Hear and defend at length thy suffering people ; Raise up a monarch of the royal blood, Brave, pious, equitable, wise and good. “ In thy due season let the hero come, “ To save thy altars from the rage of Rome : “ Long let him reign, to bless the rescu'd land, " And deal out justice with a righteous hand.”