That we may arm us to encounter it. York. Perufe this writing here, and thou fhalt know The Treason that my hafte forbids me show. Aum. Remember, as thou read'ft, thy promise paft: York. Villain, it was, ere thy hand set it down. Boling. O heinous, ftrong, and bold confpiracy! Thou clear, immaculate, and filver fountain, York. So fhall my virtue be his vice's bawd, Dutch. What ho, my Liege! for heav'n's fake, let me in. Boling. What fhrill-voic'd Suppliant makes this eager cry? Dutch. A woman, and thine aunt, great King, 'tis I. Speak with me, pity me, open the door; A beggar begs that never begg'd before. Boling. Our Scene is alter'd from a serious thing, And now chang'd to the Beggar, and the King: (a) the. Mr. Theobald-Vu'g. to. ] My My dang'rous Coufin, let your mother in; Dutch. O King, believe not this hard-hearted man; Love, loving not itself, none other can. [here? York. Thou frantick woman, what doft thou do Shall thy old dugs once more a traytor rear? Dutch. Sweet York, be patient; hear me, gentle Liege. Boling. Rife up, good aunt. Dutch. Not yet, I thee befeech; For ever will I kneel upon my knees, 'Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, [Kneels. Aum. Unto my mother's pray'rs I bend my knee. [Kneels. York. Against them Both, my true joints bended be. [Kneels. ' Ill may'ft thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Ill mayft thou thrive,] This line from the first Edition, Mr. Pope. His pray'rs are full of falfe hypocrifie, Ours of true zeal, and deep integrity; Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them crave Dutch. Nay, do not fay, ftand up, Dutch. I do not fue to ftand, Pardon is all the fuit I have in hand. Boling. I pardon him, as heav'n fhall pardon me. T Dutch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! Yet am I fick for fear; fpeak it again: Twice faying pardon, doth not pardon twain, But makes one pardon ftrong. The word is fhort, but not fo fhort as fweet; No word like pardon, for Kings mouths fo meet. York. Speak it in French, King; fay, Pardonnez moy.. That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce, Boling. With all my heart I pardon him. Dutch. A God on earth thou art. [Abbot, Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law, With all the reft of that conforted crew, Deftruction straight fhall dog them at the heels. the Good Good Uncle, help to order feveral Powers Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. new. SCENE [Exeunt. IX. Enter Exton and a Servant. Exton. Didft thou not mark the King, what words he spake? "Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? Was it not fo? Serv. Those were his very words. [it twice, Exton. "Have I no friend?-quoth he; he fpake And urg'd it twice together; did he not? Serv. He did. Exton. And fpeaking it, he wiftly look'd on me, As who fhall fay, -I would, thou wert the man, That would divorce this terror from my heart; Meaning the King at Pomfret. Come, let's go: I am the King's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exeunt. S CE N E X. Changes to the Prison at Pomfret-Castle. I Have been studying, how to compare 'I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer on't. ་ My brain I'll prove the female to my soul, G 4 • My My foul, the father; and these two beget • For no thought is contented. The better fort, [again, Against the word; as thus ; Come, little ones; and then It is as hard to come, as for a Camel To thread the postern of a needle's eye. Thoughts, tending to ambition, they do plot Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails May tear a paffage through the flinty ribs Of this hard world, my ragged prison-walls: And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Thoughts tending to Content, flatter themselves, That they are not the firft of fortune's flaves, • And fhall not be the laft: (Like filly beggars, • Who, fitting in the Stocks, refuge their fhame "That many have, and others must sit there;) And, in this thought, they find a kind of ease, Bearing their own misfortune on the back • Of fuch as have before endur❜d the like. Thus play I, in one prifon, many people, And none contented. Sometimes am I King, • Then treafon makes me wish my self a beggar, • And fo I am. Then crushing penury • Perfuades me, I was better when a King; • Then am I king'd again; and by and by, Think, that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, And straight am nothing but what-e'er I am, Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, • With nothing fhall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd • With being nothing-Mufick do I hear? [Mufick. Ha, ha, keep time; how fow'r fweet mufick is, When time is broke, and no proportion kept? So is it in the mufick of mens' lives. And |