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THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH.

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).
EDWARD COURTENAY (Earl of Devon).

LORD WILLIAM HOWARD (afterwards Lord Howard and Lord High Admiral)
LORD WILLIAMS OF THAME.

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Lords and other Attendants, Members of the Privy Council, Members of Parliament, two Gentle men, Aldermen, Citizens, Peasants, Ushers, Messengers, Guards, Pages, etc.

ACT I.

First Citizen. That's a hard word,

SCENE I.—ALDGATE RICHLY DEC- legitimate; what does it mean?

ORATED.

CROWD. MARSHALMEN. Marshalman. Stand back, keep a clear lane. When will her Majesty pass, sayst thou? why now, even now; wherefore draw back your heads and your horns before I break them, and make what noise you will with your tongues, so it be not treason. Long live Queen Mary, the lawful and legitimate daughter of Harry the Eighth. Shout, knaves !

Citizens. Long live Queen Mary!

Second Citizen. It means a bastard. Third Citizen. Nay, it means trueborn.

First Citizen. Why, didn't the Parliament make her a bastard?

Second Citizen. No; it was the Lady Elizabeth.

Third Citizen. That was after, man; that was after.

First Citizen. Then which is the bas

tard?

Second Citizen. Troth, they be both bastards by Act of Parliament and 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! Third Citizen. It's Queen Mary. Old Nokes. The blessed Mary 's apassing! [Falls on his knees. Nokes. Let father alone, my masters! he's past your questioning.

Third Citizen. Answer thou for him, then thou art no such cockerel thyself, for thou was born i' the tail end of old Harry the Seventh.

Nokes. Eh! that was afore bastardmaking began. I was born true man at five in the forenoon i' the tail of old Harry, and so they can't make me a bastard.

Third Citizen. But if Parliament can make the Queen a bastard, why, it follows all the more that they can make thee one, who art fray'd i' the knees, and out at elbow, and bald o' the back, and bursten at the toes, and down at heels.

Nokes. I was born of a true man and a ring'd wife, and I can't argue upon it; but I and my old woman 'ud burn upon it, that would we.

Marshalman. What are you cackling of bastardy under the Queen's own nose? I'll have you flogg'd and burnt too, by the Rood I will.

First Citizen. He swears by the Rood. Whew!

Second Citizen. Hark! the trumpets. [The Procession passes, MARY and ELIZABETH riding side by side, and disappears under the gate. Citizens. Long Live Queen Mary! down with all traitors! God save Her Grace; and death to Northumberland!

Second Gentleman. Ay, that was in her hour of joy, there will be plenty to sunder and unsister them again; this Gardiner for one, who is to be made Lord Chancellor, and will pounce like a wild beast out of his cage to worry Cranmer.

First Gentleman. And furthermore, my daughter said that when there rose a talk of the late rebellion, she spoke even of Northumberland pitifully, and of the good Lady Jane as a poor innocent child who had but obeyed her father; and furthermore, she said that no one in her time should be burnt for heresy.

Second Gentleman. Well, sir, I look for happy times.

First Gentleman. thing against them. know.

There is but one
I know not if you

Second Gentleman. I suppose you touch upon the rumor that Charles, the master of the world, has offer'd her his son Philip, the Pope and the Devil. I trust it is but a rumor.

First Gentleman. She is going now to the Tower to loose the prisoners there, and among them Courtenay, to be made Earl of Devon, of royal blood, of splendid feature, whom the council and all her people wish her to marry. May it be so, for we are many of us Catholics, but few Papists, and the Hot Gospellers will go mad upon it.

Second Gentleman. Was she not betroth'd in her babyhood to the Great Emperor himself?

First Gentleman. Ay, but he 's too

old. [Excunt.

Manent Two GENTLEMEN. First Gentleman. By God's light a noble creature, right royal.

Second Gentleman. She looks comelier than ordinary to-day; but to my mind the Lady Elizabeth is the more noble and royal.

Second Gentleman. And again to her cousin Reginald Pole, now Cardinal, but I hear that he too is full of aches and broken before his day.

First Gentleman. O, the Pope could dispense with his Cardinalate, and his achage, and his breakage, if that were all but will you not follow the proces

First Gentleman. I mean the Lady | sion?

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Ailmer and Bullingham, and hundreds more;

So they report: I shall be left alone. No: Hooper, Ridley, Latimer will not fly.

Enter PETER MARTYR.

Peter Martyr. Fly, Cranmer ! were there nothing else, your name Stands first of those who sign'd the Letters Patent

That gave her royal crown to Lady Jane. Cranmer. Stand first it may, but it was written last:

Those that are now her Privy Council, sign'd

Before me nay, the Judges had pronounced

That our young Edward might bequeath

the crown

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you! Go. Peter Martyr. Ah, but how fierce a letter you wrote against Their superstition when they slander'd

you

For setting up a mass at Canterbury
To please the Queen.

Cranmer. It was a wheedling monk Set up the mass.

Peter Martyr. I know it, my good Lord.

But you so bubbled over with hot terms

Of Satan, liars, blasphemy, Antichrist,
She never will forgive you. Fly, my
Lord, fly!

Cranmer. I wrote it, and God grant

me power to burn! Peter Martyr. They have given me a safe conduct for all that

I dare not stay. I fear, I fear, I see
you,

Dear friend, for the last time; farewell,
and fly.
Cranmer. Fly and farewell, and let
me die the death.

[Exit PETER MARTYR.

Enter OLD SERVANT.

Old Servant. O, kind and gentle master, the Queen's Officers Are here in force to take you to the Tower. Cranmer. Ay, gentle friend, admit them. I will go.

I thank my God it is too late to fly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. - ST. PAUL'S CROSS.

FATHER BOURNE in the pulpit. A crowd.
MARCHIONESS OF EXETER, COURTENAY.
The SIEUR DE NOAILLES and his man
ROGER in front of the stage. Hubbub.
Noailles. Hast thou let fall those
papers in the palace?

Roger. Ay, sir.

of the holy father the Pope, Cardinal Pole, to give us all that holy absolution which

First Citizen. Old Bourne to the life! Second Citizen. Holy absolution! holy Inquisition!

Third Citizen. Down with the Papist.
[Hubbub.
Bourne.
bishop, Bonner, who hath lain so long
and now that your good
under bonds for the faith- [Hubbub.
Noailles. Friend Roger, steal thou in
among the crowd,

And get the swine to shout Elizabeth.
Yon gray old Gospeller, sour as mid-
Begin with him.
winter,

Roger (goes). By the mass, old friend, we'll have no pope here while the Lady Elizabeth lives.

Gospeller. Art thou of the true faith, fellow, that swearest by the mass?

Roger. Ay, that am I, new converted, but the old leaven sticks to my tongue yet.

First Citizen. He says right; by the mass we 'll have no mass here.

Voices of the Crowd. Peace! hear him; let his own words damn the Papist.

From thine own mouth I judge thee tear him down.

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.'

Roger. Ay, sir.

Noailles. And the other. "Long live Elizabeth the Queen."

Roger. Ay, sir; she needs must tread upon them.

Noailles. Well.

These beastly swine make such a grunting here,

I cannot catch what father Bourne is saying.

Roger. Quiet a moment, my masters; hear what the shaveling has to say for himself.

Crowd. Hush - hear.

Bourne. -and so this unhappy land, long divided in itself, and sever'd from the faith, will return into the one true fold, seeing that our gracious Virgin Queen hath

Crowd. No pope! no pope!
Roger (to those about him, mimicking
BOURNE). -hath sent for the holy legate |

Mary, hath begun to re-edify the true temple

First Citizen. Virgin Mary! we 'll have no virgins here- we'll have the Lady Elizabeth!

[Swords are drawn, a knife is hurled, and sticks in the pulpit. The mob throng to the pulpit stairs.

Marchioness of Exeter. Son Courte

nay, wilt thou see the holy father Murder'd before thy face? up, son, and save him!

They love thee, and thou canst not come to harm.

Courtenay (in the pulpit). Shame, shame, my masters! are you English-born,

And

set yourself by hundreds against

one ?

Crowd. A Courtenay! a Courtenay!

[A train of Spanish servants crosses at the back of the stage.

Noailles. These birds of passage come before their time:

Stave off the crowd upon the Spaniard there.

Roger. My masters, yonder's fatter game for you

Than this old gaping gurgoyle: look you there

The Prince of Spain coming to wed our Queen!

After him, boys! and pelt him from the city.

[They seize stones and follow the
Spaniards. Exeunt on the other
side MARCHIONESS OF EXETER and
Attendants.

Noailles (to ROGER). Stand from me.
If Elizabeth lose her head –

That makes for France.

And if her people, anger'd thereupon, Arise against her and dethrone the Queen

That makes for France.

And if I breed confusion anyway -
That makes for France.

Good-day, my Lord of Devon; A bold heart yours to beard that raging

mob! Courtenay. My mother said, Go up; and up I went.

I knew they would not do me any wrong, For I am mighty popular with them, Noailles.

Noailles. You look'd a king.
Courtenay. Why not? I am king's
blood.

Noailles. And in the whirl of change
may come to be one.
Courtenay. Ah!

Noailles. But does your gracious

Queen entreat you king-like? Courtenay. 'Fore God, I think she entreats me like a child. Noailles. You've but a dull life in this maiden court,

I fear, my Lord.

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Noailles. Courtenay.

The Game of Chess.
The Game of Chess!

I can play well, and I shall beat you there.

Noailles. Ay, but we play with
Henry, King of France,

And certain of his court.

His Highness makes his moves across the channel,

We answer him with ours, and there are messengers

That go between us.

Courtenay. Why, such a game, sir,
were whole years a playing.
Noailles. Nay; not so long I trust.
That all depends

Upon the skill and swiftness of the players.

Courtenay. The King is skilful at it?
Noailles.
Very, my Lord.
Courtenay. And the stakes high?
Noailles. But not beyond your means.
Courtenay. Well, I'm the first of
players. I shall win.

Noailles. With our advice and in our

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