Bumper. Oh, Hang 'em! they're cunning Foxes If Truth were known, I warrant they're at the Bottom of it-their Chops Water at fome beautiful Spot of Ground, or other.Odfo! here's my good Lord Mountacute Stand one Side-perhaps weshall hear how Things go. Enter Mountacute.

Mount. What can I lefs for this my fair Preferver,
Than make her Miftrefs of the Life the faves?
Nor has the, virtuous Maid, fav'd only Mine :
The worthieft Nobles, nay, the King himself,
Are in her Debt Oh, how I Love Thee fort!
By Heaven!

It gains Thee more Poffeffion in my Heart,

Than had an Age of formal Vows been paid.

But who are these? Oh! fome Citizens affembled -it's opportune-I'll disclose the foul, the monftrous Defign of Mortimer Twill compleat their Hatred.Friends and Countrymen, how do ye?

All. As well as can be Expected thefe hard Times. Mount. What is no Trade stirring then? Have you Nothing to Do?

All. Nothing

Nothing

Mount. I'm forry for'tit did not ufe to be fo.
Oldftile. A fad Change truly, my Lord.

Mount. The more's the Pity.

Felt. But fure it will be otherwife anon?

Mount. It fhan't be wanting on my Part to make it fo. All. God bless You, my Lord, and send a Few like your Lordship.

Bumper. Why, my Lord I was telling my FellowCitizens of a Way juft now, that woud foon mend the Times, bad as they are.

Mount. As how, prithee, Bumper?

Bumper. Oh, very eafy, my Lord-Why, as I take it, the Nation's at prefent much upon a Foot with Wine that's upon the Sour, which, when it comes to that, shou ́d be clapt into a fresh Hogfhead, with other Ingredients to bring it to it's felf again.

if Mob. Ay, the Hogfhead fhould be chang'd, as you fay, elfe 'twill go near to four the Nation.

Bumper. Yet fome People will tell you it is not fo much as foul, and too clean for fuch as us.

Ift Mob. Do they fo? but 'tis not for Me then? and I reckon myself to have as good a Tafte as Mr. AnyBody Frame.

Frame. Well, but I don't hear you fay, who's to make this fame new Hogfhead?

Bumper. Why, the King's Cooper fhoud; but he's for having it ferve fome Time longer.

1ft Mob. Then, if he wont, we must-don't tell me, we are not Slaves yet.

Mount. Bravely faid, my Friend-You ought not to be fo; nor fhall you be reduced to it, tho' Mortimer by his vile Artifices, is contriving your Bonds as fast as he can. He sticks at Nothing to accomplish his wicked Purposes: Even now, I faw a Commiffion under the great Seal to dispatch Six of Us.

All. Abominable!

Mount. Nay, the King too is not fpar'd; He's to be among the Number.

All. Vengeance!

Mount. I'm now going to impart this Discovery to the King, when a Remedy will be proposed to give new Life to our declining State. If you love your Country therefore, this is the Time you must struggle to fet it free, or never. I expect this from your Zeal and Loyalty, that you' 'll all be ready to back this Defign by furrounding the Caftle.

All. All. All.

Mount. And that immediately-we must lofe no Time. All. We'll lofe our Lives for King and Country.

Mount. I thank you, Countrymen, in the Name of Both, and am glad to find the old English Spirit is not loft among you-Come, let me conduct ус

All. We follow-No Mortimer.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Serjeant Etherfide's. Mort. You have receiv'd the Commiffion I fent by my Neice you fay?

Serj. I have, and these wife Counsellors fhall learn mẹ their Politicks Ill Smoak 'em.

Mort. But Hark ye, my Lord!

Suppofe when we have lopp'd thefe Branches off,
The Trunk remains from whence will grow fresh Mischiefs?
I find the Boy is fond of fovereign Sway;

Fond of the lofty Sound of Majesty:

His Soul is turn d to abfolute Prerogative,
And all his Confort ftrike that pleafing Air

Serj. Look you, my Lord, fet us deliver him out of this Evil, and perhaps he'll take Care how he falls into the fame Temptation again,

H

Mort

Mort. Thou know'ft him not:

He has a wayward Soul, and ftubborn Temper;
The Pride and Spirit of the Mother fwell him,
With all his Father's poffitive Revenge.

He affects a Mildnefs for the want of Power;
But when he once has conquer'd his Restraint,
We must expect to pay for thefe Mens lives.

Serj. Nay, 'tis good to be fure, my Lord, that's certain; and if I thought his Reign wou'd put an End to our's, Charity begins at Home, and I beg the young Prince's Pardon, I wou'd not tamely refign, I tell him that..

[gerous :

Mort. This Parliament that's fummon'd will be DanThe Commons hate the Nobles, envy Us, And if we find not Means to curb thefe Measures, We fhall too late repent our Follies, EitherfideOur Heads, our Heads, muft answer for our Actions. Serj. Our Heads! I'll fend him to his Father first. Mort. Ay, there thou'rt right what fay'ft thou to another Edvardum occidere Nolite timere, bonum eft. Serj. Say to't! why, he must have it. Thefe Knaves difpatch d, we fhall not boggle at a greater Matter. Mort. A decay'd Statefman is a wretched Thing! 'Tis Flattery and ill Actions, which prefer us, And we have Flatterers too that thrive by us, Power makes us Knaves-We're Honeft out of Service; But when our Prince's Favours fall away, Nothing fo defpicable, or unregarded ; Therefore 'tis Policy, when once were in, To finish by thofe Rules we did beginThen, let the Factious 'gainst my Title roar,

I'll quickly quell Difputes, when once I've Sov, reign Power. SCENE changes to the Palace.

[Exeunt. Enter King Edward, Mountacute, Delamore, Holland, Exeter, and Leicester.

King. Was ever Treason fo unnatural!

A Mother's Hand to fign her Son's Destruction!

Now I'm convinc'd who fet my Father going.

Good Heav'n! how much I owe you for this Safety,

And the kind Inftrument you chufe to work it!

Oh, Mountacute! I ftand fo much indebted,

I fear I want Rewards to recompence;

Yet I'll confider till I've tir'd Thought

To gratify thy Love and Loyalty.

Mount. You owe it the Virgin that preferv'd you, Sir: Make her amends, my Duty is my Payment

But,

But, Sir, refolve a-pace; each Moment is important---Your loyal Citizens impatient wait:

They cry with one accord away with Mortimer.
King. They fhall be fatisfy'd-We'll force the Caftle
Dela, Hold, Sir.

When I was Governor, I found a Place,
Which now may be of admirable use.
There is a private, deep, but narrow Vault,
Whofe difmal, rough, unfhapen Way

Was furely torn with Hands by a dark Guefs;
For 'tis fo ftrange, no Light cou'd guide the Making.
Twas wrought by Prif'ners fure for Liberty;
For in the loweft Dungeon it begins,

And has a Paffage out juft by the River,
There we must enter, and when we have reach'd the Jail,
the Part o'th' Palace over it is Mortimer's.
King, What follows Delamore?

Dela. I'th' Cieling is a Place with rufty Bolts,
Which formerly no Doubt was a Trap-door;
But for what use they best must know who made it.
This we may force, and fo furprise the Villian.
Mount. "Tis a good Stratagem.

King. Let's inftantly about it then.

Holl. I think 'twere better that your Majefty,
With these good Lords and Me, fecure the City,

While Mountacute and Delamore with a good Guard
Pafs this fame Vault; and my Lord of Leicester
With a Party force the Guard on the Queen's fide.
All but King-Prudently advis'd!

King. Each to his Task then-Mortimer we come; The Night begins my Reign, that Seals thy Doom. [Exeunt,

SCENE changes to the Caftle.
Enter Mob arm'd.

ift Mob. Hark ye, Neighbours, this is a woundy Atrong Castle.

2d Mob. Ay, Marry, we fhall find a tough piece of Work on't.

3d Mob. Tough! Why, an it were as tough as Neck Beef, our weapons wou'd foon make it tender

Tender as an English Man's Head now a-Days, as a Body may fay.

4th Mob. Right! an the Caftle were an enchanted Caftle, we'd make it fmoak.

5th Mob. This Spit, let me tell you, fhall do no finall

H 2

Exe

Execution to Night: It fhall run a Score or two of Mortimer's People thro' the Guts, and roaft a good Rump of Beef afterwards.

6th Mob. You talk of your Spit! why, this Pitchfork, do you mind me, fhall do a Hundred times as much : I'll make a Hay-Rick of the dead Bodies with it, as high as the Caftle it felf-I will.

7th Mob. But do you fee this Sword! this Sword shall do a Thoufand times more than either your Spit or your Pitch-fork-'Tis true, I believe it has not been drawn ever fince the last Battle of the Barons; but when' tis once drawn, the Enemy must stand clear-it kills all before it. ift Mob. Good lack! do's it fo? then, I'm fure, I'll take care to keep behind it.

2d Mob. Methinks 'tis pity to demolish fo fine a piece of Workmanship, that has coft fuch a Mort of Money, and where there's fuch a many fine Things.

1ft Mob. You fay right, Neighbour; we fhou'd look before we leap. An I were to advife, we'd better stay, and fee if this fame Mortimer wou'd eafe our Conditions a little.

5th Mob. Hang his Conditions! This Spit, I tell you, fhall get us roafted Conditions.

6th Mob. S'Death on all Flinchers! I'll make Hay while the Sun fhines, as the Saying is. [aking his Pitch-fork.]

7th Mob. What! Draw, and put-up again without doing any thing! No thank ye for that: no fham Fight: my Lord won't be bamboozled fo neither-Those that don't like being for us,may be against us--No wheedling,d'ye sec. All but ft No Wheedling! No wheedling! and 2d Mob.

ift Mob. Nay, Nay, an that be the Cafe, I've done [advifing. 2d Mob. And I too--But pray who's to command us? 3d Mob. Command us! who the Duce fhould a Mob? 4th Mob. No, No, we won't be commanded Master Bumper is to give us fome Inftructions from our Betters by and by, and we'll one and all be directed by him. All. Ay, ay, one and all.

Enter Bumper.

Bumper. Now Neighbours, for the Honour of EngJandNow's the Time to fhew your Mettle; if you have any-Every Thing's ready for the pufh, and if you prove good Blood, you'll foon fee this Caftle and it's

proud