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A30781 Henry the Second, King of England, with the death of Rosamond a tragedy, acted at the Theatre-Royal, by Their Majesties servants. Bancroft, John, d. 1696.; Mountfort, William, 1664?-1692. 1693 (1693) Wing B634; ESTC R10853 40,104 62

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And what is more confirm That if the Worthy President he sets Mankind were follow'd There would be vast sincerity of Conscience And the Age or World which you please would not So transcendently abound with Knaves and Villains Queen Go on Father Bertr Whether I can or no No Abbot yet I shall be baffled presently Queen Why do you pause why are you thus concern'd Bertr How should it be otherwise with profound submission when the sacred Ornaments of your Countenance appear not so sublime as usual but the Rays of Dignity suffer as it were under the repugnance of an Eclypse hum hum Queen The absence of the Prince is grievous to me Bert. Ay Madam you have mention'd the only Star that grac'd our Horrizon to be depriv'd of him is enough to put the considerating part of the Nation into Lacrimary showrs and stupifying sadness Enter Abbot or I must Exit Queen I am amaz'd You seem to hint at dangers and call up My Blood which crouds too fast about my heart And makes it pant with an unusual terror No pain is sure like that of Apprehension Therefore good Father ease me of it quickly Pour in a Balm upon my bleeding wounds Restore my Health and give my Tortures ease Enter Abbot Bert. He 's come in good time for I am hared with the apprehension of the fury of her displeasure Abbot The hours of Peace Eternal Blessings wait you May all your Prayers be heard your Wishes Crown'd And constant happiness attend 'em both Queen 'T is kindly wish'd but answer me my Lord Pray and be sincere wave Holy niceties And tell me plainly whither you good Man Is not distempered in his mind Abbot Far from it on my Word Bert. Nay if she thinks me mad for a little impertinence What will she think of the Church that 's never at quiet Abbot He has shot too far I find it by his looks So it is always when he does amiss Bert. How could I help it You might have come sooner before my Rhetorick tyred and have hindred the stumbling of my understanding Abbot Be silent I 'll fetch you off Your Majesty it seems is ignorant of what This Holy Man is bless'd withal His Fasting Watching Praying constant Penance Pull'd down from Heav'n the gift of Prophesy Queen Indeed my Lord Bert. I did Prophesy a Lye must help me truly Queen He seem'd concern'd for my Son's safety Abbot I fear'd as much Then all the Truth is out Why did you not avoid the Royal presence It was not fit the Queen should know it yet Babble no more 't is of ill consequence Bert. What has he lost his Beads he 's so testy Did not you tell me the Queen Abbot Peace Bert. Good Lord what 's the matter now 'T is hard that one Church-man can't know the bottom of another Queen Why do you rate him thus Is it not fit If ought concern my safety that I know it Be quick and do not trifle with my expectation I shall forget the Sanction of your Robe And slight what I esteem'd Abbot Pardon me Royal Mistriss I would not for the World offend that goodness But this is such a Tale which I must tell Will chill and stagger every sence about you Therefore if I do lagg in my Confession Think it not want of Duty but of Courage For O I dread the fatal consequence Which must attend the impression it will make Queen Go on and fear not For I 've a Soul so near Divinity I can behold the worst that Fate can do And Laugh at the Decree Abbo Then listen for I talk of wondrous things When Kings to prove their fondness of a Son Expose him to the Toyl of Camps and Wars And danger is a mark of their esteem Then yours is much belov'd If when a Prince has got the Peoples Love And all their Jubilees express his Name The Father to indulge their kindness to him Sends him abroad to keep him in their mind Then ours is strangely worship'd Queen Ha! Bert. What a rare pair of Bellows is a Canting Priest She blazes already Abbot If when a King with Sacred Marriage tyr'd To shew how much yet still he hugs that chain On a fresh Beauty pours his longing Soul And jealous of her Rage whom he has wrong'd Removes all means by which she might Revenge If this be proof that Wedlock he admires Then you are justly us'd Queen How now what say'st thou Is my Bed abus'd Or is my Son remov'd least he should right me Lay by thy cunning Rhetorick and be plain Wind not my Weakness up with Preparation To make my Passion more extravagant It needs it not I want no Fire to keep my Anger up A Royal Spirit has a Pride that feeds it Abbot 'T is a sad Truth indeed but so it is The Lord of Clifford's Daughter Rosamond Wears the King's Heart and you are but a Cypher Queen How know'st thou this what certainty ha speak Abbot This Holy Father is her Confessor Bert. What will become of me Abbot With vast reluctancy he did reveal it Upon my promise I would ne're disclose it And now he shakes to find himself betray'd Queen Come hither Priest Bert. Oh Lord Queen Come hither what do'st start at Canst thou conduct me where these Lovers meet Bert. Not for the World Queen Better thy Soul were out on 't Come Abbot make him guide us Where in each others Arms this pair are clasp'd That I may cut the twisted folds asunder Bert. Oh! I shall be hang'd for being of their Councel and betraying it afterwards Aside Abbot Oh give not way to this destructive Rage We shall be all undone by this rash act Have Patience and see further Queen What! do'st thou lay my body on the fire And bid me bear its flames with whining Patience When I may quench it with a Rivals Blood Abbot O horrid Resolution Would you add Murder to Adultery And make your self as wicked as the King Queen Why didst thou tell me then this cursed story Bert. Let Heav'n Revenge you Queen I 'll not stay so long Abbot The Church shall Right you Queen Both are too tedious for me Besides you fear although you hate the King And as your Interest leads you will direct No you have light the Brand and shall partake The heat on 't Abbot Is 't fit our Piety should be expos'd in such a shameful cause Upon our Knees Kneel Bert. Ay upon our Knees Queen Is 't fit your Piety should be expos'd Is 't fit my Dignity should be abus'd Thus still your Churches Credit you 'l maintain No matter what we suffer if you Reign But since my Soul you 've set upon the Rack And touch'd my Love I 'll my own measures take Give my Eyes proof of what your Tongues have told Think not to shun me by your Robes I 'll hold And if I find my Peace you have abus'd Never were Hereticks so basely us'd By your Church Tyranny as you shall be by me
to it Rid hard and exercis'd Must feel the Bit and Curb to let 'em know They 're under Government King Why thou hast spoke it and shall see it done For from this moment do I constitute Thee equal sharer with me in my Sceptre Prince My Royal Father King I have said the Word Hence be Convinc'd A Parents Love can bear forget forgive And wait the gentle Season when Penitence Shall spring and showr a Blessing That may encourage Virtue as it grows Prince My thanks to Heav'n and you Oh! you have made New-moulded up this Mass and breath'd a Soul That longs for Action and the toil of War If I not strive to merit this great Blessing If I not Honourably discharge the Trust Endeavour Nobly may I sink with shame As great as my worst Foes would wish Best Friends lament For France my Father Where I will season this my Infant Sword To Dedicate to you who taught it Glory King This sounds well Harry as it should be Boy And I foresee Englands good Genius Dancing In thy Spirit and pleas'd with the young Mars It has begot My Lord of Verulam Veru Your Majesty King Here as a Pledge of Love Accept this Man I give him As a Guardian Angel to thee His Courage shall assist and strengthen thine His Judgment in the Field shall guide thy boldness And if Fate should approach thee clap between ye His Care shall lessen thy Fatigue in War In Peace his Diligence shall give thee Pleasure Prince Sir you are mine your Character is great And I will shew how I esteem its worth In choosing your Opinion Enter Queen Abbot Fryers Attendants Queen Oh Barbarous King was there no other way To reach my heart but thus to snatch him from me Look on him well Are these young tender Limbs Fit to endure the hardships of a Camp The Cares of War and Dangers that attend it It shall not must not be and I alive Oh Harry hang upon thy Mothers Love And shun thy Father's Cruelty King Well Madam have you done Are you at ease Has the fierce Whirlwind of your Passion vent If not Enlarge after your wonted method Queen Ingrateful King Do you upbraid my fondness Think'st thou this Breast is hardned like thy own I bore him bred him felt the rack of Nature Many long Winter Nights have watcht his slumbers When the sad hand of Sickness was upon him While you encompass'd round with all your Friends Forgot my Care and the poor Infant 's danger He minds me not Oh wretched Majesty See Reverend Fathers Is this humane usage Prince Let me beseech you Madam calm this Passion The King designs my Greatness Queen Deluded Fool away Fly fly betimes To Sanctuary where these good Mens assistance May break the Philtre and dissolve the Magick Which blinds thy sense and sets thee mad for Glory Behold this Holy Man thy careful Tutor Whose studious diligence first taught thee Knowledge With Art and Patience clear'd thy erring Soul And made it Master of Imperial Wisdom Take his Advice Be deaf to the harsh King 's Which would destroy thee by removing thee King Contemn her fondness and consult thy Honour This Passion flows from an unruly Will I tell thee Harry all the Sex are thus And Contradiction's their Original Sin For Woman was the first in Disobedience When they were molded first into a Form And the Almighty lik'd the great Design Pleas'd with the Work withdrew and in th'Interval The Fall'n Angel crept unseen and view'd it Saw that Man's Happiness would be complete And from his Gall a drop of Spleen dash'd in Which sowr'd the whole Creation 'T is that affects her now give it but scope And when she sees it moves us not 't will down Prince If to my Mother's Will I should submit Glory will shun me Honour flie me And all Brave Men contemn me Abbot Most Gracious Majesty vouchsafe attention To the humble Speech of your poor Beadsman I am bound in duty to offer my assistance And to mediate where persons of such near Affinity Have different Passions which o'ercloud the Soul Soyling Perfection See your Royal Partner o'erwhelm'd with Tears From the harsh words you 've utter'd That Noble Graft bury'd in deep amazement Oh! Let this Discord end in Harmony Lull the harsh Note and raise her up to Life King Who asks Advice from you my Rev'rend Sir Who sent for you to make up Royal Breaches Because you are th'Examiner of her Sins Must you pretend Dominion o'er my Actions Go to We know ye Preach to those who do not And let their Ignorance support your Cunning Thou Pandor of the Court Abbot Your trusty Knight there Points to Sir T. Vau. Becomes the Title better King Ha! what said you Abbot This Accusation does not suit my Function Nor well become the Mouth of Dignity If We the Pillars of the Holy Church Are thus calumniated 't is easie guessing what Will follow You set an ill Example King You seldom shew us good ones Come come I know you better than your selves Your proud ambitious haughty daring Tempers The God you Idolize is Int'rest Which to obtain you 'd bridle all Mankind And ride 'em to the Devil Queen Oh Blasphemy Abbot Alas poor Queen how must he use your Goodness If he reviles the Church thus Atheists would blush at this King Is there no way to Heav'n without these Fellows Try me and judge me Oh thou awful Pow'r If I not reverence and adore thy Laws But why through such hard hands are they deliver'd How is 't you make us Kings whil'st these prescribe us Our Actions must be govern'd by their Consciences Our own has no Pre-eminence nor Judgment Abbot Reason is weak where Passion is so strong Your Arbitrary Power would tire the World Did not Heav'n bless you with our Guiding Virtues King Yet with your leaves Kings may indulge themselves Violate Laws Disfranchize all their Subjects Provided that your Government 's untouch'd But should we look A-squint upon the Failures of the Church The holy Rooks and Daws betake to wing And fill the Air with Clamor Hence Be gone on forfeit of your Lives Abbot He shall pay dear for this Come Brothers let 's to Councel Exit Abbot Priests Sir Tho. Vaugh. That 's to Mischief Now will the Church fall in a Fever And want his Blood for a Cordial King Now Eleanor to you Beware these Men Thou' rt but a Tool to them to fashion me And work my Actions suitable to theirs Shock not thy Husband's Pow'r to strengthen them For credit me I know their inward Cunning They call'd my Father in to serve their Int'rest And when he had nobly ventur'd Life and Pow'r Remov'd th' Oppressions under which they groan'd They grew so weary of Security They wou'd have chang'd again Observe this Boy Seem with the Church to joyn Hearken and weigh whatever they design But never let their Knowledge fathom thine Queen But why must he to th' War Oh! Can
you love and put him into danger King Hear me And what I say I hope will make impression If to divest my self and place on him A Sov'reign Pow'r be not the Marks of Love Then I have none If to advance my Son Into an equal share of Empire with me Be not Affection what then is Affection Queen But yet King Come Eleanor be calm cease all suspicion And if I sally'd out in rash expressions Wink at my Failings For Oh my Queen The Cares that tend upon a Crown are great And do sometimes distract Queen Is there no danger of his Life King None that I know of My Lord of Verulam I joyn to his assistance But if the Sceptre be too ponderous I 'll aid the Prince till strength shall reach his Arm And be a Shield 'twixt him and all Invaders Prince Dear Madam hear the King let him prevail You would not have me stay and weild a Distaff When Honours Trumpet sounds so brave a Charge When all my Royal Father's great Intentions Aim only at th' increasing of my Glory Queen It shall be so But my dear Child take care Oh Verulam be watchful in the War The Comfort of my Life lies all in him King I bless thee from my Soul and wish thee well Prince How I 'll deserve that Blessing time shall tell If I return Conquest and Peace I 'll bring If not just Fame shall to my Glory sing I suffer'd for my Country and my King Exeunt omnes The End of the First Act. ACT. II. SCENE I. Enter Abbot and Fryers Abbot DID you not mark with what a sprightly Joy The Youth took fire when we saluted him The Blood flew up and almost burst his Cheeks His Eyes did sparkle round unwonted Lustre His fault'ring Tongue could not express his Soul But with a pleas'd and eager stammering Hinted the wond'rous Transport he was under Then with a Bridegroom's haste he claspt us round Call'd us his Friends and kiss'd our Lips with as Much warmth as each had been a Mistress 2 Fry Nay though the Queen had sent to take her leave How slowly did he quit our Company The falling Showrs gush'd from his longing Eyes And spoke the wreck he felt i' th' Separation Then on his Knees with humble Adoration Besought our guardian Pray'rs and Benizons Abbot It almost made me weep for Company But that the Fire which burns within this Bosom Call'd back the Sap for a more Noble Use. Now should I speak my Thoughts I must declare this early pious worshipping Young Prince deserves the Crown 1 Fry What says my Lord Abbot Since his ill Father stands accurs'd for shedding Most sacred Blood and in a holy Place He is divested by his Holiness Of Power and Royalty And only bears an empty Title now 2 Fry But which of us dare to tell him so He has a damnable Spirit and values Hanging a Church-man no more than a mutinying Soldier Abbot Weakmen whose Senses are o'er-whelm'd with Ease Think you there goes no more to this great Work Than barely talking I tell you We must first Joyn all the Pow'r and Int'rest we can make To undermine this vast Colossus 'T is of Consequence sufficient to engage The whole Profession And call the scatter'd Levi of the World To one entire and absolute Assembly Oh Becket Oh thou Martyr for our sakes The only Patron of our humble Labours Have you forgot Speak has Remembrance left you Are all his Favours bury'd in Oblivion 1 Fry No 't is to him and you we owe our being Abbo And shall We tamely let his Murderers sleep Sit down in silence to behold their Triumph Oh! never let Ingratitude so foul Be lay'd at the Church door Think of his goodness He took me when a Boy from my poor Parents Pleas'd with a forward Spirit which he saw And at his Charge with Cost and Diligence I was instructed in Divinity Preferr'd me early into Holy Orders And made me in my Six and Thirtieth year One of the Confessors to Majesty And tho' in different ways his Love did move You shar'd his Bounty and to good advantage 2 Fry 'T is true and we no less than you Repine For want of means to shew how we 'd Revenge Abbo Oh wonderful stupidity Is 't possible What have we all this time been talking of Was it not of the Prince the King that must be Does not Heav'n give the Power into our hands And by the Gift plainly direct us how To Right the Impious Murder of the Saint 2 Fry I understand you now Abbo You are his Tutor Becket gain'd you that 2 Fry 'T is true Abbo Thou say'st he is ambitious be it so Nourish the growing Plague Temper the mischief Of Power and Sway the cunning Compound make On the prevailing fuel of his Pride Set the Infection his Spleen will feed the Fire Till wild Ambition blazes to Rebellion 2 Fry The task is easie for in his eager Soul His Fathers Errors bear Pre-eminence With all his Mothers positive ill Nature Abbo Blessings upon thy Zeal this plainly looks Like Inspiration and foretells success Few words and I have done When thou shalt reach the Prince's Court Thou wilt be swarm'd to for News And principally from the Men in Orders None carry Ears more itching than The Cloathing 2 Fry Give me your full desire tell me Your heart and if I fail my Trust Cunning forsake our Tribe Abbo Then plainly thus Lay all the Churches sufferings on the Rack Let every scratch appear a mortal Wound Breath to their fickle Souls desire of change And never quit the Subject Extol the Prince With all the Rhetorick Interest can invent Paint the vile King upon the stretch of Fancy Attempt the Root of his Prerogative And load with endless fears each branch of Power Till we have stripp'd him naked of all Trust. Observe the Factious Chiefs and there inlarge Thy well wrought Sophistry If thou should'st find 'em start into a Curse Say thou Amen 2 Fry My zealous Spirit glows to be at work Abbo When e're thou com'st among the Female Sex Bemoan the dreadful prospect of our Woes Work 'em to Tears melt 'em with Apprehension For none ingender mischief like that Sex Enquire amongst their Sins And those Thou find'st still most accountable and fearful Work up with dreadful Industry and Terror Sigh out Damnation with prodigious Accent And tell 'em nought can stop such festring wounds But being mighty forward in this Cause Oh thou shalt see 'em work their Husbands up And teach their lisping Babes to Curse the King They are the Train by which we Blow up Fools There 's nothing worthy Note is done without ' em 2 Fry Let me be gone I 'm eager to be at it Abbo Get all things ready at Night meet Me at home i' th' Morning you set Forward away I must to th' Queen 1 2 Fry Success attend you Ex. 1 2 Fry Abbo Now Becket if thy Ghost Will look so low as us