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Oxf. In her age— Great sir, observe the wonder—she grows fruitful, Who, in her strength of youth, was always barren: Nor are her births as other mothers' are, * At nine or ten months’ end; she has been with child Eight, or seven years at least; whose twins being born (A prodigy in nature), even the youngest Is fifteen years of age at his first entrance, As soon as known i' th' world tall striplings, strong And able to give battle unto kings; Idols of Yorkish malice. [Daw.] And but idols; A steely hammer crushes them to pieces. K. Hen. Lambert, the eldest, lords, is in our service, Preferr'd by an officious care of duty From the scullery to a falconer; strange example! Which shows the difference between noble natures And the base-born: but for the upstart duke, The new-revived York, Edward's second son, Murder'd long since i' th' Tower; he lives again, And vows to be your king. Stan. The throne is fill’d, sir. * K. Hen. True, Stanley; and the lawful heir sits on it: A guard of angels, and the holy prayers Of loyal subjects are a sure defence Against all force and counsel of intrusion.— But now, my lords, put case, some of our nobles, Our Great Ones, should give countenance and courage To trim duke Perkin; you will all confess Our bounties have unthriftily been scatter'd Among unthankful men. Daw. Unthankful beasts, Dogs, villains, traitors! K. Hen. Dawbeney, let the guilty

Keep silence; I accuse none, though I know
Foreign attempts against a state and kingdom
Are seldom without some great friends at home.

Stan. Sir, if no other abler reasons else
Of duty or allegiance could divert
A headstrong resolution, yet the dangers
So lately past by men of blood and fortunes
In Lambert Simnel's party,' must command
More than a fear, a terror to conspiracy.
The high-born Lincoln, son to De la Pole,
The earl of Kildare ([the] lord Geraldine),
Francis lord Lovell, and the German baron,
Bold Martin Swart, with Broughton and the rest
(Most spectacles of ruin, some of mercy);
Are precedents sufficient to forewarn
The present times, or any that live in them,
What folly, nay, what madness 't were to lift
A finger up in all defence but yours,
Which can be but impostorous in a title.
K. Hen. Stanley, we know thou lov'st us, and thy

Is figur’d on thy tongue; nor think we less
Of any's here.—How closely we have hunted
This cub (since he unlodg’d) from hole to hole,
Your knowledge is our chronicle; first Ireland,
The common stage of novelty, presented
This gewgaw to oppose us; there the Geraldines
And Butlers once again stood in support
Of this colossic statue: Charles of France
Thence call'd him into his protection,

1 Simnel's party.) _Simnel's party (for he himself was a mere poppet in the hands of the Earl of Lincoln) was utterly defeated in the battle of Newark,

2 " Bold Martin Swart," one of the most celebrated of those soldiers of fortune who, in that age, traversed Europe with a band of mercenaries, ready to fight for the first person that would pay them, sell in this action, after “ performing bravely," as the noble historian says, " with his Germans."' Lanberi was taken prisoner. Henry saved his life, for which Bacon produces many good reasons, and advanced him first to the dignity of a turnspit in his own kitchen, and subsequently to that of an under-falconer.-GIFTORD.

Dissembled him the lawful heir of England;
Yet this was all but French dissimulation,
Aiming at peace with us; which, being granted
On honourable terms on our part, suddenly
This smoke of straw was pack'd from France again,
T'infect some grosser air: and now we learn
(Maugre the malice of the bastard Nevill,
Sirl Taylor, and a hundred English rebels)
They're all retired to Flanders, to the dam
That nursed this eager whelp, Margaret of Bur-

But we will hunt him there too! we will hunt him,
Hunt him to death, even in the beldam's closet,
Though the archduke were his buckler!

Sur. She has styled him,
“ The fair white rose of England.”

Daw. Jolly gentleman!
More fit to be a swabber to the Flemish,
After a drunken surfeit.

Urs. Gracious sovereign,
Please you peruse this paper. [The king reads.

Dur. The king's countenance
Gathers a sprightly blood.

Daw. Good news; believe it.
K. Hen. Urswick, thine ear.2 – Thou hast lodged


1 Sir Taylor is a very unusual method of designating a knight; but perhaps the king does it in scorn.-GIFFORD.

2 Urswick, thine ear.] Christopher Urswick was at this time almoner to the king. He had been chaplain to the Countess of Richmond, who afterward married Thomas Lord Stanley, the elder brother of Sir W. Stanley, the person here implicated; and was trusted by this nobleman with the correspondence between him and Richmond (Henry VII.), and therefore, perhaps, much in his confidence and esteem. His eager importunity to betray the brother of his former patron argues but little for his character; but in those days much consistency is rarely to be found. Weaver, who gives his epitaph (by which it appears that he possessed and resigned several high stations in the church), concludes thus* Here let him rest, as an example for all unjust prelates to admire, and for few or none to imitate.”—The news which Urswick now communi.

Urs. Strongly safe, sir. K. Hen. Enough, is Barley come too? Urs. No, my lord. K. Hen. No matter—phew he 's but a running weed, At pleasure to be pluck'd up by the roots; But more of this anon.—I have bethought me. My lords, for reasons which you shall partake, It is our pleasure to remove our court From Westminster to the Tower: we will lodge This very night there; give, lord chamberlain A present order for it. Stan. The Tower!—[..Aside.]—I shall, sir. K. Hen. Come, my true, best, fast friends, these clouds will vanish, The sun will shine at full; the heavens are clearing. [Flourish.-Exeunt.

cated was evidently that of his o privately brought the double traitor Clifford, the confidential agent of Warbeck's party, to England. Sir Robert Clifford and Master William Barley, Lord Bacon says, “were the only two who adventured their fortunes openly—sent, indeed, from the party of the conspirators here to understand the truth of what sed in Flanders, and not without some help of money from hence, to provisionally delivered, if they were satisfied that there was truth in these pretences.” Clifford, it appears, was soon won to give up his employers. Master Barley, for whom Henry next inquires, did not betray his cause quite so . nor trust quite so readily to the king's clemency as Clifford; in the end, however, he also returned to England, and was pardoned.— GirrorD. 1 Lord Bacon well accounts for this sudden resolution of the king. “The place of the Tower was chosen to that end, that if Clifford should accuse any of the great ones, they might, without suspicion, or noise, or sending abroad of warrants, be presently attached : the court and prison being within the cincture of one wall."—GirrorD.


Edinburgh.-An Apartment in Lord HUNTLEY'S

Hunt. You trifle time, sir.
Dal. Oh, my noble lord,
You construe my griefs to so hard a sense,
That where the text is argument of pity,
Matter of earnest love, your gloss corrupts it
With too much ill-placed mirth.

Hunt. “Much mirth,” lord Dalyell!
Not so, I vow. Observe me, sprightly gallant.
I know thou art a noble lad, a handsome,
Descended from an honourable ancestry,
Forward and active, dost resolve to wrestle,
And ruffle in the world by noble actions,
For a brave mention to posterity:
I scorn not thy affection to my daughter,
Not I, by St. Andrew; but this bugbear, honour,
So hourly chats and tattles in mine ear,
The piece of royalty that is stitch'd up
In my Kate's blood, that 't is as dangerous
For thee, young lord, to perch so near an eaglet,
As foolish for my gravity to admit it:
I have spoke all at once.

Dal. Sir, with this truth,
You mix such wormwood, that you leave no hope
For my disorder'd palate e'er to relish

* There were two persons of this name, William and Robert Dalyell, grandsons of Sir John Dalyell (or Daliell as Ford writes), either of whom, from the dale, might be meant for the character here introduced. or the former nothing is recorded. The latter, Douglas says, “was killed at Dumfries, in a skirmish between Maxwell and Crichton, July, 1508."-GIFTORD.

2 George, the eldest son of Alexander Seton, and second Earl of Huntley (the person here meant), married Anabella, daughter of James 1,: hence " the piece of royally that was stitched up in his Kate'. blood."

Vol. 1.-21

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