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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A30840 The innocent usurper, or, The death of the Lady Jane Gray a tragedy / written by J.B. Banks, John, d. 1706. 1694 (1694) Wing B658; ESTC R11051 45,048 69

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years of Life perhaps Some days may finish what we prize so dearly Would'st thou consent that I shou'd forfeit Heav'n My Spotless Innocent and Bosom Faith Forsake the Truth that was so lov'd by me And lose the Joys of Immortality Gilf. I know what I wou'd act were I my Iane Were Gilford's safety only in the Ballance O all you Saints that wear Immortal Crowns Spirits of Martyrs that bright Angels are Not Racks nor Tortures burning Pincers Fires Shou'd make me leave this Faith the most Divine Which adorns thee and thou hast made to shine Ia. O Young O Good O Youth belov'd of Heav'n Gilf. But when I see a Father's Agonies Sweating cold Drops with terrour to behold The Heads-man diving in thy Gilford's Bowels And in the Hearts of four unhappy Brothers But oh and which is more than all the Lives Of all the Sons and Daughters of Mankind Thy precious Life if that 's a Crime to save You Heavenly Powers if then 't is Sin to change The Fact it self wou'd from your doom appeal And quash Damnation with the very mention North. Ay there my Son do press her hold her there Ia. What is my Husband Traytor to my Soul Then I may say as Caesar did to Brutus Dost thou too Gilford stab me to the Heart North. Come prostrate fall with me Lo at your Feet The Sad and Miserable Dudley lies See on the Ground the Father and the Son Thy Husband too that shou'd Command thee all And reign the Conq'ring Rival of thy Soul O say the word thou Woman most Divine Quick e'er they come to fetch thee and my Children Like a dumb Drove with Pantings to the Shambles First they begin with him and in in thy sight Fasten his Manly Body to the Sledge Which ne'er was bound before but in thy Arms. Then see the Villain with a Butcher's Knife Ripping his Bowels open to the Throat And tearing thence the Heart he holds to view That Heart which did so oft in silent Language Whisper the Story of your Faithful Loves But now insenc'd leaps in the Ruffin's hand And cries more fierce the Cruelty of Iane. Then then it stabs and e'er I come to die Breaks his poor Father's Heart and all the Standers by Ia. What must be done must then be done this Moment The time is suddain but the Gate of Heav'n Is easie to be lock'd yet hard to open It has a Spring without a Key which when We shut too rashly we no more can enter I am resolv'd North. Of what Ia. Not to be chang'd till I am dead For all the Blood that 's threaten'd to be shed Nor for the Crown took lately trom this head North. Hell Scalding Lead and Sulphures said'st thou ha O Iane think think of the Pains of Death remember Thy tortur'd Father and the Womb that bore thee Who brought thee not into this Cursed World With half the Pangs that thou and they must suffer Ia. No more I have inevitably said North. Fly Gilford fly let 's vanish from her Presence Damnation came from Woman first and still The mischief reigns in her and all the Sex O Woman Woman false as are thy Beauties Thou art a Tempting Fair Deceitful Way Leading by smooth Degrees to narrow Fastness Through which most Mortal Men do slide to Ruine But out of Ruine none Gilf. Stay stay my Lord. North. Not were the Ax a falling on my Head And she shou'd cry aloud I turn I turn Were there but one Religion in the World I 'd sooner die an Atheist and be Damn'd Than be of one Belief with her Gilf. Alas North. Since first the Serpent tempted Womankind The Snake lies lurking in the Sex's mind False Subtile Vain to keep your Faith 's secure There need a thousand Bolts to bar the Door Without like gilded Sepulchers you shine But open'd full of Rottenness and Sin At best who hopes to find a Goddess there Is cheated with a Bubble fraught with Air. Therefore the safe retreat of Human Life Is far from all the Sex but most a Wife Gilford why should we fear worse pains to feel The Marry'd Wretch has sure no other Hell Exit North. Enter Pembrook Gardner attended Gard. I met the Duke your Victim led to Death Not as we wish'd with Roman Laurels Crown'd Nor with the Visage of a Conqueror When 't is in your sole Power Ia. My Lord Rome's Markets ne'er were counted cheap Which makes me fear the Purchase being so great The price is more than my Estate can pay Gard. O thou whose wond'rous Mind and Body 's blest With all the parts and Beauties of thy Sex And Excellence of Man I come not here To wean an Infant turn a spleenful Woman To her resolv'd and fix'd Chymera wed But to a Judge who though a Child in Years Is fit to teach Philosophy a Rule And tell the Schools they erre Ia. Alas my Lord This Flattery bespeaks you more a Courtier Than an Embassador from the Court of Heav'n Gard. Yet Madam let it not be thought that you To cruel Niceness should have such regard That Iane out of a sullen Piety Ia. My Lord You will confess that one Divinity One Center moves the Catholick Faith and yours That wise Religious are like Skilful Pilots May with contrary winds the same way steer And meet together in one Port at last Gard. There you come close be wise and oh come nearer Then since not our Beliefs but Forms do vary This difference only seems 'twixt us and you Ours is a nearer Cut but o'er a River And yours a new invented Way through Desarts who 'd then refuse to pass the narrow Water And go vast Leagues about for fear of drowning Ia. My Lord I am a Wretch condemn'd to die And now am almost at my Journey 's end Is this a time to tempt me to draw back And tell me I have left a nearer way Gard. Yet save your Life and all their Lives Consider Say but the word and this shall hold the Ax. Ia. Witness you Powers so woven is my Belief So one with me that as my Nurses Milk Infus'd its Nourishment into my Blood Heav'n did distil this Balm into my Soul Yet had not the Almighty taught me this The Truth to me another Godhead is A Faith that no Apostacy endures Nor envy I that constancy in yours Far be my hopes but you in Heav'n may shine Live you in yours and let me die in mine Gard. Then since no President from Time can win you No Arguments Divine nor Human Wisdom Nor yet those Wretches Lives your Marble Heart Can turn you drive the Law to take its course Ia. Go on I dare the utmost of your Malice Till with your Cruelty my Death become What was your Justice Noble Martyrdom I see your Plots contriv'd in dark Cabals Your Leopard Consciences and freckl'd Souls All your feign'd Zeal that your great Lord may Raign Tyrant of Souls and Landlord of their Gain Gard. Haste lead 'em all to