Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A41818
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Gratiae theatrales, or, A choice ternary of English plays composed upon especial occasions by several ingenious persons.
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T. W., fl. 1662. Thorny-abbey.; Watson, Thomas, d. 1686.
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1662
(1662)
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Wing G1580; ESTC R26436
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30,642
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73
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I a King's Son Mother An. I dare not say thou art yet heaven weâ— knowes it Wilt. Our good King 's fair soul hath confest it An. My duty on my knees I render him Beseeching you to assure his Majesty That if the holy vows of faithfull hearts Witnest by heaven may make a marriage lawfull Without this earthly ceremonious state This câ—ild is onely hiâ— legâ—t mate Edm. I can forbear no longer I believe thee Come to my soul thou best of women Within this small circumference of my armes I hold a jâ—wel That which â— prise more then my diadem Come my dear love An. Oh my dear Lord Abb. The King turn'd Friar Edm. Come I must take away your Votariâ— Abb. Your Highness may command so she be pleas'd I could my self change states to be so rais'd Edm. Dry up these tears all grief is overthrown An. Content be yours I am no more my own But Oh! my Father Edm. Has lost himself in grief but when he hears Our sacred union he 'll find new joys Come my fair Queen set forward to our Court Where we 'l espouse thee On Reverend Bishop Thy hand shall joyn us let all people sing Anne Thorny's wife unto Great Englands King Exit Ent. Old Thorny led by an Angel Th. Oh! stay thou Minister yet speak to me Why hast thou led me all this silent night 'Bout this large building as if y 'ould survey Their workmanship and statelinesse I did not for my self erect this pile I have a Pallace for my proper use Ang. From the white path of blest Eternitie I 'me sent to comfort thy mortality Persevere Thorny as thou hast begun Thou shalt be made a bright-Celestiall Sun And with a quire of Angels thou shalt sing Thy pilgrimage and toyl is almost ended And now arriv'd whither thy steps have tended Leaving the world and her abortive race And sit as King in an immaculate place Exit Thor. Into what Sphear is my transcending soul Climb'd from the earth me thinks even now I see How death comes in to part this world and me I 'le hast me to my tombe and meet thee there What ho my man wake Sirrah rise and leave My silent tomb I 'le now go sleep my self Lob. I can never rest sleeping nor waking· This 't is to serve a Master that 's troubled with Chollimolly Some talk of taking pleasure in their bed I 'm sure I take none there for I am almost asleep before I go to bed and I am call'd up before I wake And this my masters bed that he sayes shall be his grave is none of the softest and surely none of the easiest neither for if it were he would not talk so much of it He thinks says and speaks of nothing else but of that and his dying two things I can't abide to hear of If he would mention good provision as plum-PUDDING good pouder'd beef mutton or veal turkies or capons pasties or tarts there were some comfort towards the keeping up of this poor frail flesh But he 's alwayes peeping on a bare deadman's head talking of grim death of an hourglasse run out and of tapers that are burnt and such like heavy stuffe that my weak stomack can't digest Well I 'le walk easily home and see what â—oan hath provided for us for unlesse I do look after all we shall have nothing Exit Thorney awakes and enters Thus thus my joyes are quite extinguisht never To be reviv'd thus gon thus gon for ever Oh world what art thou naught but discontent A Chaos of confusion making man repent All his delight and pleasure he hath past That bringeth naught but misery at last Oh heaven how much unto thee am I bound That I an end of this my grief have found And through this pilgrimage of life at last Wiâ—h patience through it I have gone and past But oh the sad remembrance of my child Has drawn back my grief that now was quite exil'd Still gripes my heart but being now to die All dying men should end in charity I doe forgive her now doe thou so heaven And then the debt of her defame is even Enter Young Edmund Wiltshire and Woodford Young Edm Good Sir where where 's my grandfather Pray shew him me That I may ask his blessing on my knee Thorn Ha! what apparition's this I was awake even now Why doe you kneel or thus stand bare about me You doe not worship me I 'me sure I am no Idol You hear me speak I hope VVood. We think no less but that you are a man And living This Mr. Thorney is the Royal Prince Thorn Pray pardon me I doe not come at Court You see good Sir what doting age can doe It is my duty then to kneel to you VVood. Stand up good Sir alas why doe you kneel Why doe you turn aside Thorn Stand up my Daughters Son And tempt no more my resolution I 'le ne're more see thee nor thy worthy Mother Queen Though trap't with all the ornaments of state And for her memory even Thee I hate Yet though I see thee not thus on thy head I 'le backward lay my hand and bend my knee With sighs and tears to pull a blessing down Shall be more pretious then thy fathers Crown Let heaven and holy Angels ever spread Their blest beatitudes upon thy head Peace crown thy days all graces thee attend And to thy race let thy race never end Live long in virtue let thy good o'regrow thee Or die before thy bad shall overthrow thee Nay rise my Child thy face ne're more I 'le see But pray to send thee blest eternitie Commend me to thy Mother say that I Freely forgive her and to heavens doe pray To wipe her deep insculped sins away And though on earth she now is placed high Oh! let her ne're transcend Humility My starrs burn dim my times sand-glass is run Record what for a daughter I have done And to the King my Royal Son say thus That his baâ—e Father dy'd ambitious For when his fainting body thus sunk down His soul flew up to heav'n to gain a Crown Young Edm. O my Grandsire Dyes VVood. I want tears to lament his misery VVilt Where 's the Reverend man VVood. He 's dead he 's dead My good Lord of Wiltshire Before the gasp of his last breath was gon His speech being usher'd with a deep fetcht groan Through the sad confluence and mistie throng Of his distracted thoughts his feeble tongue Dropt forth these words Thus fleet thus transitory Is mans delight and all that painted glory Poor earth can give Nor wealth nor bloud nor beauty Can quit the debt that necessary duty They owe to change and time but like a flow'r They flourish now and fade within an hour Wilt. The world is like a Play his glass is run Death acts the Epilogue and thus his dayes are done The King and Queen are come to comfort him VVood. They come too late Whirlewinds of grief has overwhelm'd lifes state VVilt He is then dead Alas this suddain death Will strike the Court with grief and heaviness But hark they come Ent. King Queen and Attendants King Where 's aged Thorny Quee. Where 's my displeased Father VVoodf Here 's his Effigies drawn unto the life By the grave workman of mortality All dreading death this doth prefigurate Man's pilgrimage on earth whose steps do tend To bring his life unto his journyes end Queâ—n O me unhappie eyes rain down bring drops And with them here embalme my Father's Corps Had I but got his blessing e'â—e he died I had bin happy Young Edm. You want not that Mother For in his blessing me he did name you And sent to you a blest Beatitude Queen Heaven quit him for 't let all the Court In black lament his death And let 's in sighes chaunt forth his requiem And to express my love unto the Hearse From whence I came the Nuns I 'le freely give Five hundred pounds a year whiles that I live King And I 'le make sure thy gift And now His old lamented Corps let be convai'd Upon a Chariot lin'd and oâ—erlaid With Sables then to receive the Crown Prepar'd for Virtue and deserv'd Renown Where now we leave him to be full pâ—sâ—est Of endlesse peace and everlasting Rest. Set on to Court 'till a fit time doth call To solemnize this mournfull Funeral And while the world shall last old Thorny's name Shall live recorded in the book of Fame FINIS ⸫ 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ⸫ Here the Candles are putting out
you punish Bish. Happy is England in so blest a King Whose only pleasure is his Subjects safety Edm. Our self will play the thrifty husbandman And plucke the ranke weedes from the fruitfull earth That Justice may manure our tillage so That Peace may spring and Equity still grow King And herein shall you doe your self much right For know my Brother all my studies be To banish vice and call back exilde virtue And but to leave it quietly to Thee That art true heyre to all our Soveraignty Edm. Which care if it fall on this tender unapt prop I shall with patience bear the heavy load And with my care break my now quiet sleep And let my eyes and eares still open be To heare and see with pure integrity King Brother be gone You are the Earle of London let us see The City by your care so ordered be That no oppression wrong her pray be carefull Edm. Brother I shall and so I take my leave For to redress in what I can the wrongs Of the poor wretches that with bended knees Throw down their wrongs prayers all at once Oh may their eare be deaf that stops their eares Against the poor that plead with supplyant teares Exit King Be it your charge good Sibert to proclaim In all the government you hould of us As Gloster Worster Warwicke Coventry That all oppressed people may repair Here to your Castle where wee 'l doe them Justice Sib. I shall my Leige the Divel shall damme um first King Keep carefully those papers they contain Severall complaints for whose redress our self Will this day sitt in Counsel to determine Believe me Lords that Prince whose faire example Drawes other to be good may justly claim His peoples love and live in books of Fame Exit Sib. So then I see in this the threatning storm is come And points at me which we must cast to shunne So all those ills he means to punish now My Conscience tells me I have in some sort acted Tush what of that who dares accuse me for 't Say on my back I wear the poor mans sweat My power and greatness might have borne that out But that this vertuous King in this bad age Will needs be good and here in my own house Grant some access unto the multitude That all with base exclaimes as loud as thunder Accuse my actions and in them my life Ent. Emma Em Come Sir I have overheard your passion Take my counsell let not the name of King Dishearten Thee or strike amasing terror to thy heart Were it ten Kings that should oreturn my State I 'de work my safety out of all their ruines Sib. Oh He or I must down Em. Then let him die There is no other way to set you free Sib. Thou hast awak't me and I must confess Thy cousell though through danger points at safety And I will tak 't in time the King shall die To save my life is soundest Policy Exit Ent. Anne Lobster Ioane Io. You lay all on me Lobster Lob. And I should lay all my wayt on thee Ioane thou must Not refuse it for thou knowst women are born to beare Io. I but not such burthens Lob. Nay and you beare not me you l ne're beare child I warrand you Ioane An. So Sir what discant can you make Lob. I young M iâ— but it is upon the plain old Song That every one desires to sing a part in Io. You have it without book Mr Lobster Lob. Oh by the book in any case it must be prickt to them An. Very well Sir whatsoever maids beare they must be sure To bear your knavery for thou art never loaden with that Lob. Or else I were worse then clean linnen Mris For maydes use to beare that Ent. Old Thorny and Woodford Th. Come Cosin Woodford Are you not weary with my long discourse Wo. By my good hopes I swear unless your change Will interrupte me with some other matter I shall find naught to talke on but my daughter Th. I tell you Sir her duty modesty and huswifry Are such large theams and so delightfull to me As I can speak no other Wo. Sir you doe that which all tongues else proclaim Your daughter is the mirror of this City And nothing that is good can glut my eares beside Your talke hath made the way seem short For see we are upon them see your man Sir Th. Hee 's kissing of my maid by the masse how now Lobster What are you doing Sirra Lob. The clothes are drie Sir and Ioane and I am a foulding Th. Thou art foulding her in thy armes me thinks away knave 'T is well done girle and harke you Mr Woodford I have already vow'd a single life Chiefly to give her all unto her portion Oh it would joy my heart to see her well-bestow'd That she might keep my name alive unto posterity She shall have rich possessions to indow her To a good husband Ent. Edmund and Gaâ—foord Wo. Her face without possessions will deserve Th. St. Cozen what honourable Persons have we here Fore heaven it is my Soveraign's brother Noble Edmund The Earle of London our gratious Lord He must not pass without my duty health to your Grace Edm. Our thanks good Thorney Iustice is now impeacht And is araignd by fell oppressors And craves you as a prop for to uphold here Th. A weak decaing prop my noble Lord. Edm. In this small scedule is a mass of wrongs Which crie for a redress be it your care to summon All that are opprest for to repaire to the Earle of Coventry There to give up their grievances Th. It shall be speedily performed my Lord. Edm. A heavenly prospect what fair Creature 's that Wo. His daughter Th. My only Child my Lord even all the fruit That heaven that time and death hath left unpluct From this old sapple-tree Edm. It is a fair one Sir what sudden fire is this That shoots through all my vaines 't is scorching heat 'T is of aspiring flame and through my eyes Shootes a hot lustfull fire that must be quencht In yonder Sea of pleasure no trick yet I hav 't Sir you have a fair ring here trust me I never saw a richer in my eye troth 'T is a fair one or else my fancy wrongs me Th. You praise it to the best my Lord and yet I love it This guift did part my loving wife and me Peace with her Spirit and yet my honored Lord I am no scrupulous Idolater to keep such notes To my perpetual vows it shall be yours Edm. This curtesie for ever bindes me to you I will in some measure gratify your kindness Pray in exchange accept this ring of mine Th. Be your own Chapman Sr please you bestow it I 'l weare it for your sake Edm. With all my heart Knews't thou the sequell of this rings intreaty Thou wouldst have bin more nice in parting with 't But I forget me I must to the King Th. We shall