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PHILIP (King of Naples and Sicily, afterwards King of Spain).
REGINALD POLE ( Cardinal and Papal Legate).
SIMON RENARD (Spanish Ambassador)
LE SIEUR DE NOAILLES (French Ambassador)
THOMAS CRANMER (Archbishop of Canterbury).
Sir NICHOLAS HEATH ( Archbishop of York; Lord Chancellor after Gardiner).
LORD WILLIAM HOWARD (afterwards Lord Howard and Lord High Admiral)
STEPHEN GARDINER ( Bishop of Winchester and Lord Chancellor).
EDMUND BONNER (Bishop of London)
THOMAS THIRLBY (Bishop of Ely).

}(Insurrectionary Leaders).
Sir Thomas WHITE (Lord Mayor of London).

}(attending on Philip).
Father BOURNE.
PETERS ( Gentleman of Lord Howard)
ROGER (Serrant to Noailles). WILLIAM (Servant to Wyatt).
STEWARD OF HOUSEHOLD to the Princess Elizabeth.
MARCHIONESS OF EXETER (Mother of Courtenay).
LADY MAGDALEN DACRES ((Ladies in Waiting to the Queen).
MAID OF HONOR to the Princess Elizabeth.

Joan, TIB (Two Country Wives).
Lords and other Aliendants, Members of the Privy Council, Members of Parliament, tro Gentle

men, Aldermer, Citizens, Peasants, Ushers, Messengers, Guards, Pages, etc.


| First Citizen. That's a hard word, SCENE I. -ALDGATE RICHLY DEC. | legitimate ; what does it mean ? ORATED.

Second Citizen. It means a bastard.

Third Citizen. Nay, it means trueCROWD. MARSHALMEN. born. Marshalman. Stand back, keep a First Citizen. Why, did n't the Parclear lane. When will her Majesty liament make her a bastard ? pass, sayst thou? why now, even now; Second Citizen. No; it was the Lady wherefore draw back your heads and Elizabeth. your horns before I break them, and Third Citizen. That was after, man ; make what noise you will with your that was after. tongues, so it be not treason. Long First Citizen. Then which is the baslive Queen Mary, the lawful and legiti- tard ? mate daughter of Harry the Eighth. Second Citizen. Troth, they be both Shout, knaves !

bastards by Act of Parliament and Citizens. Long live Queen Mary! Council.

Third Citizen. Ay, the Parliament | Elizabeth. Did you hear (I have a can make every true-born man of us a daughter in her service who reported it) bastard. Old Nokes, can't it make thee that she met the Queen at Wanstead a bastard ? thou shouldst know, for with five hundred horse, and the Queen thou art as white as three Christmasses. (tho' some say they be much divided)

Old Nokes (dreamily). Who's a-pass. took her hand, call'd her sweet sister, ing? King Edward or King Richard ? and kiss'd not her alone, but all the

Third Citizen. No, old Nokes. ladies of her following.
Old Nokes. It's Harry !

Second Gentleman. Ay, that was in Third Citizen. It's Queen Mary. her hour of joy, there will be plenty to

Old Nokes. The blessed Mary's a- sunder and unsister them again ; this passing!

[Falls on his knees. Gardiner for one, who is to be made Nokes. Let father alone, my masters! Lord Chancellor, and will pounce like a he's past your questioning.

wild beast out of his cage to worry Third Citizen. Answer thou for him, Cranmer. then ! thou art no such cockerel thyself, First Gentleman. And furthermore, for thou was born i' the tail end of old my daughter said that when there rose Harry the Seventh.

a talk of the late rebellion, she spoke Nokes. Eh ! that was afore bastard- even of Northumberland pitifully, and making began. I was born true man at of the good Lady Jane as a poor innofive in the forenoon i' the tail of old cent child who had but obeyed her fa. Harry, and so they can't make me a ther; and furthermore, she said that no bastard.

one in her time should be burnt for Third Citizen. But if Parliament can heresy. make the Queen a bastard, wly, it fol- Second Gentleman. Well, sir, I look lows all the more that they can make for happy times. thee one, who art fray'd i the knees, First Gentleman. There is but one and out at elbow, and bald o' the back, thing against them. I know not if you and bursten at the toes, and down at know. heels.

| Second Gentleman. I suppose you Nokes. I was born of a true' man and touch upon the rumor that Charles, the a ring'd wife, and I can't argue upon it;l master of the world, has offer'd her his but I and my old woman 'ud burn upon son Philip, the Pope and the Devil. I it, that would we.

trust it is but a rumor. Marshalman. What are you cackling First Gentleman. She is going now to of bastardy under the Queen's own nose? the Tower to loose the prisoners there, I'll have you flogg'd and burnt too, by and among them Courtenay, to be made the Rood I will.

Earl of Devon, of royal blood, of splenFirst Citizen. He swears by the Rood. did feature, whom the council and all Whew!

her people wish her to marry. May it Second Citizen. Hark! the trumpets. be so, for we are many of us Catholics,

The Procession passes, MARY and but few Papists, and the Hot Gospellers
ELIZABETH riding side by side, and will go mad upon it.
disappears under the gate.

1 Second Gentleman. Was she not be. Citizens. Long Live Queen Mary !!

troth'd in her babyhood to the Great down with all traitors! God save Her

Emperor himself? Grace; and death to Northumberland !

| First Gentleman. Ay, but he's too [Excunt.

Second Gentleman. And again to her Manent Two GENTLEMEN.

| cousin Reginald Pole, now Cardinal, but First Gentleman. By God's light a I hear that he too is full of aches and noble creature, right royal.

broken before his day. Second Gentleman. She looks come- / First Gentleman. O, the Pope could lier than ordinary to-day ; but to my dispense with his Cardinalate, and his inind the Lady Elizabeth is the more achage, and his breakage, if that were noble and roval.

all : but will you not follow the procesFirst Gentleman. I mean the Lady sion ?

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Second Gentleman. No; I have seen Peter Martyr. That might be for. enough for this day.

given. First Gentleman. Well, I shall fol. I tell you, fly, my Lord. You do not low; if I can get near enough I shall

own judge with my own eyes whether Her The bodily presence in the Eucharist, Grace incline to this splendid scion of Their wafer and perpetual sacrifice : Plantagenet.

[Exeunt. Your creed will be your death.

Step after step, SCENE II. -- A ROOM IN LAMBETH Thro' many voices crying right and left, PALACE.

Have I climb'd back into the primal

church, Cranmer. To Strasburg, Antwerp, And stand within the porch, and Christ Frankfort, Zurich, Worms,

ne: Geneva, Basle — our Bishops from their My flight were such a scandal to the

sees Or fled, they say, or flying – Poinet, The downfall of so many simple souls,

faith, Barlow,

I dare not leave my post. Bale, Scory, Coverdale ; besides the

Peter Martyr. But you divorced Deans,

Queen Catharine and her father; hence, of Christchurch, Durham, Exeter, and

her hate Wells

Will burn till you are burn'd. Ailmer and Bullingham, and hundreds


I cannot help it. more; So they report : I shall be left alone.

The Canonists and Schoolmen were with

me. No: Hooper, Ridley, Latimer will not

“ Thou shalt not wed thy brother's

The fly.

wife." - 'Tis written, Enter Peter MARTYR.

“ They shall be childless." True, Mary Peter Martyr. Fly, Cranmer! were was born,

there nothing else, your name But France would not accept her for a Stands first of those who sign’d the Let-|. bride ters Patent

As being born from incest ; and this That gave her royal crown to Lady Jane.

wrought Cranmer. Stand first it may, but it Upon the king; and child by child, you was written last :

know, Those that are now her Privy Council, Were momentary sparkles out as quick sign'd

| Almost as kindled ; and he brought his Before me : nay, the Judges had pro- l doubts nounced

And fears to me. Peter, I 'll swear for That our young Edward might bequeath the crown

He did believe the bond incestuous. of England, putting by his father's will. But wherefore am I trenching on the Yet I stood out, till Edward sent for me.

time The wan boy-king, with his fast-fading That should already have seen your eyes

steps a mile Fixt hard on mine, his frail transparent ! From me and Lambeth ? God be with hand,

you! Go. Damp with the sweat of death, and grip. Peter Martyr. Ah, but how fierce a ing mine,

letter you wrote against Whisper'd me, if I loved him, not to ! Their superstition when they slanderd yield

you His Church of England to the Papal For setting up a mass at Canterbury wolf

To please the Queen. And Mary; then I could no more - 1 Cranmer. It was a wheedling monk sign'd.

Set up the mass. Nay, for bare shame of inconsistency, Peter Martyr. I know it, my good She cannot pass her traitor council by,

Lord. To make ine headless.

| But you so bubbled over with hot terms


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Of Satan, liars, blasphemy, Antichrist, l of the holy father the Pope, Cardinal She never will forgive you. Fly, my Pole, to give us all that holy absolution Lord, Ay!

which Cranmer. I wrote it, and God grant First Citizen. Old Bourne to the life! me power to burn !

Second Citizen. Holy absolution ! holy Peter Martyr. They have given me a Inquisition ! safe conduct : for all that

Third Citizen. Down with the Papist. I dare not stay. I fear, I fear, I see

(Hubbub. you,

Bourne. -- and now that your good Dear friend, for the last time; farewell, bishop, Bonner, who hath lain so long and fly.

under bonds for the faith -- [Hubbub. Cranmer. Fly and farewell, and let Noailles. Friend Roger, steal thou in . me die the death.

among the crowd, [Exit PETER MARTYR. And get the swine to shout Elizabeth. Enter OLD SERVANT.

Yon gray old Gospeller, sour as midOld Servant. O, kind and gentle


Begin with him. master, the Queen's Officers Are here in force to take you to the

Roger (goes). By the mass, old friend, Tower.

we'll have no pope here while the Lady Cranmer. Ay, gentle friend, admit

Elizabeth lives. them. I will go.

Gospeller. Art thou of the true faith, I thank my God it is too late to fly.

fellow, that swearest by the mass ? [Exeunt.

| Roger. Ay, that am I, new converted,

" but the old leaven sticks to my tongue SCENE III. - ST. PAUL'S CROSS.

First Citizen. He says right; by the FATHER BOURNE in the pulpit. A crorci. | mass we 'll have no mass here. MARCHIONESS OF EXETER, COURTENAY. | Voices of the Crowd. Peace! hear The SieuR DE NOAilles and his man him; let his own words damn the PaRoger in front of the stage. Hubbub.

pist. Noailles. Hast thou let fall those From thine own mouth I judge thee papers in the palace ?

- tear him down. Roger. Ay, sir.

Bourne. -- and since our Gracious Noailles. * * There will be no peace for Queen, let me call her our second Virgin Mary till Elizabeth lose her head." Mary, hath begun to re-edify the true Roger. Ay, sir.

temple Noailles. And the other. “Long First Citizen. Virgin Mary! we'll live Elizabeth the Queen."

have no virgins here — we'll have the Roger, Ay, sir ; she needs must tread | Lady Elizabeth ! upon them.

Swords are draron, a knife is hurled, * Noailles. Well.

and sticks in the pulpit. The mob These beastly swine make such a grunt throng to the pulpit stairs. ing here,

Marchioness of Exeter. Son Courte. I cannot catch what father Boume is saying.

nay, wilt thou see the holy father Roger. Quiet a moment, my masters ;

| Murder'd before thy face? up, son, and hear what the shaveling has to say for

save him ! himself.

| They love thee, and thou canst not come Crowd. Hush — hear.

to harm. Bourne. - and so this unhappy land,

Courtenay (in the pulpit). Shame, long divided in itself, and sever'd from

shame, my masters ! are you Eng. the faith, will return into the one true

lish-born, fold, seeing that our gracious Virgin

And set yourself by hundreds against Queen hath

one? Crowd. No pope ! no pope !

Crowd. A Courtenay! a Courtenay ! Roger (to those about him, mimicking [A train of Spanish servants crosses BOURNE). --hath sent for the holy legate at the back of the stage.


Noailles. These birds of passage come Noailles. The Game of Chess. before their time :

Courtenay. The Game of Chess ! Stave off the crowd upon the Spaniard I can play well, and I shall beat you there.

there, Roger. My masters, yonder 's fatter | Noailles. Ay, but we play with game for you

Henry, King of France, Than this old gaping gurgoyle : look And certain of his court. you there -

His Highness makes his moves across The Prince of Spain coming to wed our the channel, Queen !

We answer him with ours, and there After him, boys! and pelt him from the are messengers

That go between us.
They seize stones and follow the Courtenay. Why, such a game, 'sir,
Spaniards. Exeunt on the other were whole years a playing.
side MARCHIONESS OF EXETER and Noailles. Nay; not so long I trust.

That all depends
Noailles (to Roger). Stand from me. | Upon the skill and swiftness of the
If Elizabeth lose her head —

players. That makes for France.

Courtenay. The King is skilful at it? And if her people, anger'd thereupon, Noailles.

Very, my Lord. Arise against her and dethrone the Courtenay. And the stakes high? Queen

Noailles. But not beyond your means. That makes for France.

Courtenay. Well, I'm the first of And if I breed confusion anyway

players. I shall win. That makes for France.

Noailles. With our advice and in our Good-day, my Lord of Devon ; company, A bold heart yours to beard that raging And so you well attend to the king's mob!

moves, Courtenay. My mother said, Go up; I think you may. and up I went.

Courtenay. When do you meet ? I knew they would not do me any wrong, Noailles.

To-night. For I am mighty popular with them, Courtenay (aside). I will be there; Noailles.

the fellow 's at his tricks Noailles. You look'd a king. Deep - I shall fathom him. (Aloud.) Courtenay. Why not? I am king's Good-morning, Noailles. blood.

[Exit COURTENAY. Noailles. And in the whirl of change Noailles. Good-day, my Lord. may come to be one.

Strange game of chess! a King Courtenay. Ah!

| That with her own pawns plays against Noailles. But does your gracious a Queen,

Queen entreat you king-like? Whose play is all to find herself a King. Courtenay. 'Fore God, I think she Ay; but this fine blue-blooded Courteentreats me like a child.

nay seems Noailles. You've but a dull life in Too princely for a pawn. Call him a this maiden court,

Knight, I fear, my Lord.

That, with an ass's not an horse's head, Courtenay. A life of nods and yawns. Skips every way, from levity or from Noailles. So you would honor my

fear. poor house to-night,

Well, we shall use him somehow, so We might enliven you. Divers honest

that Gardiner fellows,

And Simon Renard spy not out our game The Duke of Suffolk lately freed from Too early. Roger, thinkest thou that prison,

any one Sir Peter Carew and Sir Thomas Wyatt, Suspected thee to be my man ? Sir Thomas Stafford, and some more - 1 Roger.

Not one, sir. we play.

Noailles. No! the disguise was perCourtenay. At what?

fect. Let 's away! (Exeunt.

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