It back again, she'd freely grant whate'er Request I then should make. Not. Give, give it me, My lord! and let me fly, on friendship's wings, To bear it to the queen, and to it add. My prayers and influence to preserve thy life. Esser. Oh! take it then-it is the pledge of life! Oh! it is my dear Southampton's Last, last remaining stay! his thread of being, Which, more than worlds, I prize!-Oh, take it then; Take it, thou guardian angel of my life, What says the earl? Not. I wish, with all my soul, Th' ungrateful task had been another's lot. Qu. Eliz. What means this mystery, this strange behaviour? Pronounce-declare at once; what said the earl? Not. Alas, my queen! I fear to say; his mind Is in the strangest mood, that ever pride On blackest thoughts begot.He scarce would speak: And when he did, it was with sullenness, Qu. Eliz. Impossible! Could Essex treat me thus?You basely wrong him, And wrest his meaning from the purpos'd point. Recall betimes the horrid words you've utter'd: Confess, and own the whole you've said, was false. Not. Madam, by truth, and duty, both compell'd, Against the pleadings of my pitying soul, I must declare, (Heaven knows with what reluctance) That never pride insulted mercy more. Qu. Eliz. Eternal silence seal thy venom'd lips! What hast thou utter'd, wretch, to rouse at once A whirlwind in my soul, which roots up pity, And destroys my peace? Let him this instant to the block be led. [Exit Nor. Upbraid me with my fatal fondness for him! Ungrateful, barbarous ruffian! O, Elizabeth! Remember now thy long-establish'd fame, Thy envy'd glory, and thy father's spirit. Accuse me of injustice too, and cruelty! Yes, I'll this instant to the Tower, forget My regal state, and to his face confront him: Confound th' audacious villain with my presence, And add new terrors to the uplifted axe. [Exit. SCENE III.-The Tower. Enter ESSEX and SOUTHAMPTON. I know her 1oyal mercy, and her goodness, South. In life's first spring, Our green affections grew apace and prosper'd'; And what is death, did we consider right? Esser. Yet, still I trust long years remain of Let smiling hope drive doubt and fear away, South. Count not on hope We never can take leave, my friend, of life, Its date is but the immediate breath we draw ; A frail and fickle tenement it is,. Esser. Such cold philosophy the heart disdains, Enter Lieutenant. Lieut. I grieve to be the messenger of woe, But must, my lords, entreat you to prepare For instant death. Here is the royal mandate, That orders your immediate execution. Esser. Immediate execution! what, so sudden ? No message from the queen, or Nottingham ? Lieut. None, sir. Esser. Deluded hopes! Oh, worse than death! My life atone for both-my blood appease? South. Yes, oh yes, Wilt thou then tear him hence?-Severe divorce! Let me cling round thy sacred person still,— Still clasp thee to my bosom close, and keep Stern fate at distance. Essex. Oh, my friend! we'll meet Then take her to thy care-do thou pour balm I pr'ythee, leave this woman's work.-Farewell! Are poor-Farewell!— But we shall meet again-embrace in one Eternal band, which never shall be loosed. [Erit. Esser. To death's concluding stroke, lead on, lieutenant. My wife!-Now reason, fortitude, support me! For now, indeed, comes on my sorest trial. Enter Countess of RUTLAND. Oh, thou last, dear reserve of fortune's malice! Rut. Thou sole delight Thou only joy which life could ever give, Esser. Too much, thou partner of this dismal hour, Thy generous soul would prompt thee to endure Nor can thy tender, trembling heart sustain it. Long years of bliss remain in store for thee; And smiling time his treasures shall unfold To bribe thy stay! Rut. Thou cruel comforter ! The weak support that holds up life! to bear On that loved form! Alas! I feel my sight Rut. Why wilt thou still Of parting talk? Oh, that the friendly hand of Heaven would snatch Us both at once, above the distant stars, Esser. The awful Searcher, whose impartial Rut. Stay, stay, my love! my dearest, dying lord! Ah! whither wouldst thou go? Ah, do not leave me! [Faints. Esser. Thou sinking excellence! thou match- Shall fortune rob me of thy dear embrace, Lieut. My lord, already you have been in- Beyond what I can warrant by my orders. Esser. One moment more Afford me to my sorrows-Oh, look there! Lieut. My lord Essex. But one short moment, and I will attend. Ye sacred ministers, that virtue guard, 'Tis done. And now, ye trembling cords of life, give way! Nature and time, let go your hold !-eternity Demands me. [Exeunt ESSEX and Lieut. Rut. Where has my lost, benighted soul, been wandering? What means this mist, that hangs about my mind, Through which reflection's painful eye discerns Imperfect forms, and horrid shapes of woe?— The cloud dispels, the shades withdraw, and all My dreadful fate appears.-Oh! where's my lord? My life! my Essex! Oh! whither have they ta'en him? What fiend art thou, that draws the horrid scene? Ah! Burleigh! bloody murderer! where's my husband? Oh! where's my lord, my Essex? Destruction seize, and madness rend, my brain! Rut. Eternal discord tear the social world, [Exit. Qu. Eliz. Hapless woman! She shall henceforth be partner of my sorrows; And we'll contend who most shall weep for Essex. Oh, quick to kill, and ready to destroy! [To BURLEIGH. Could no pretext be found-no cause appear, To lengthen mercy out a moment more, And stretch the span of grace !-Oh, cruel Burleigh! This, this, was thy dark work, unpitying man! Bur. My gracious mistress, blame not thus my duty, My firm obedience to your high command. EPILOGUE. BY AN UNKNOWN HAND. NEWS! news! good folks, rare news, and you shall know it I've got intelligence about the poet. As thus---should she be old, and worse for wear, BARBAROSSA. ! BY BROWN. PROLOGUE. WRITTEN BY DAVID GARRICK, ESQ. AND SPOKEN BY HIM IN THE CHARACTER OF A Measter! measter! Is not my measter here among you, pray? Nay, speak-my measter wrote this fine new play. The actor-folks are making such a clatter! They want the pro-log-I know nought o' th' matter! He must be there among you look about— Law! what a crowd is here! what noise and Fine lads and lasses! one o' top o' t' other. [Pointing to the rows of Pit and Gallery. I could for ever here with wonder geaze! I ne'er saw church so full in all my days! Your servant, surs !-what do you laugh for? Eh! You donna take me sure for one o' the play? You should not flout an honest country lad You think me fool, and I think you half mad: You're all as strange as I, and stranger too, And if you laugh at me, I'll laugh at you. [Laughing. I donna like your London tricks, not I, And since you rais'd my blood, I'll tell you why; And if you wull, since now I am before ye, For want of pro-log, I'll relate my story. I came from country here to try my fate, And get a place among the rich and great; But troth I'm sick o' th' journey I ha' ta'en, I like it not-would I were home again! First, in the city I took up my station, And got a place with one o' th' corporation, A round big man-he cat a plaguy deal, Zooks, he'd have beat five plowmen at a meal! But long with him I could not make abode, While 'mong the great, this geaming work the trade is, They mind no more poor servants, than their ladies. A lady next, who lik'd a smart young lad, Hir'd me forthwith-but, troth I thought her mad: She turn'd the world top down, as I may say, Now I'm the poet's man-I find with wits |