DUCHESS

Bertie, deal mine Alms. And mine as well content that thou shouldst bear it, thinkest thou I will disburthen thy content, Good man thou art deceived, my charity Shuts up the doors against thy misery, I tell thee, all my sorrows are dried up, With this sweet breath of comfort, to see thee, Infranchise truth by thy captivity. If England's sin deserves that curse again, Doubtless my life the truth should still maintain. How Men can praise themselves. Marriage is good, but where the husband good? A loving husband, Bertie, true in touch May swear, so they will be, few prove such. Void all the Chamber, Bertie, but your self, The husband now, come man, fear not to speak, You have absolution, ere you do begin, The husband can report his true deserts. You have described the substance of a man, Such as might ravish the most chastest thoughts, Virginity could sin in wish of him, For but on my deceas worser Brandons breath, Did never wait such rich perfections, In them I shall but re-espouse mine own, Marry one Husband twice, embrace the dead, Hug in mine arms a Suffolk buried The Palatine? has he your wishes voice. His stately honours are unmatched for mine. That greatness claims a duty from my heart. Your humble eyes see's merit, his will not, Our weaker worths in Marriage are forgotten. I, they cou worser live in your humility, And my affections best afford them thee, While thy sweet tongue solicits for thy friend, Into thy bosom all my thoughts I send. Cranwell what news. King of Poland? King of Poland? Queen of my rich desires in marrying thee What of this king of Poland? Entreat their presence, Welcome royal Prince, My noble Lord. My Pristine gratulations thus accept The humble proffer of your sovereign heart But let me tell you, my thrice gracious Lord, You deal not Kingly, by advantaged means To set upon my infancy of Love, To ambush lay it by intelligence: You know my meaning, theres a privy thief I know you set to pillage my affections, He durst not else have broke my secrets up. His travel has not loitered in your suit, Nor will I be ungrateful to his pains. The Duke Northumberland, with the Earl of Erbaigh, Desire to have access unto your grace. More suitors? well, they are all welcome; usher them in. Your wishes return their virtues on your self. I wish sir, my perfections of that wealth To rate so high a merit as yours is: But Princes, leave this cheapening of my love, It is a bade thing deer. Shall I beseech of you my Lord of Poland, and the rest, Princes or whosoever tenders me The humble service of his noble heart As to digest my choice with patience: Amongst you I will choose, and at this time And in his Like inter my widowhood, Amongst a throng of merits one but enters, One wins the Goal still though a thousand venters, This man must but poss sse me, let the voice Of my affections, please all with her choice. How this fellow Wakes my remembrance for the king of Poland, As though my fancy hung upon his tongue, I never shot a blunted arrow forth, Nor shall my choice recoil upon his worth, Whom I'll call mine; come worst of fate, Berty I choose thy self my marriage mate, Upon this low foundation I erect The Palace of mine honours, on this knee I place the head of mine authority; Let hand from hand exchange their offices, Whats mine is thine, thine mine, sealed with this kiss. You see blind fancies folly in my choice, His worth prevails, nor will I change my voice. Princes, let your displeasure chide his meri Which stole my love your honours would inherit. Whereat frown you sir? If you be tired with the wearing it, Good speed you, I'll not break you back with care. The Queen is near and deer unto my bl In the remembrance of our mother's loves, Which charges greater sorrow at my heart, Then the huge shock of their malignant threats; My oule hath lodged the Truth, it shall not thence, Whilst this weak flesh displays her airy sense. But still leave mine upon the rock of care. It is, it is, and would befit our ves, To wear them out in contemplation: There should we read , upon the naked walls, The first creation of our wretchedness; There no intruding objects of gay clothes, Embroidered hangings, or rich tapestry, Shall wound the service which we owe to heaven. O M. Bertie, there my wish would be; Change honoured woe for poor felicity. But who conducts me to that Bark at Leigh? Fear is a trusty guide, it is, it is, She that knows no way, that way will not miss, I prithee go, my Conscience to set free, My tender feet shall learn to follow thee. Yet stay, nay go, alas which way? And must we partly? Slip not my duty, I beseech your love, To her for whom my sorrows shed more tears Then is my wounded Conscience charged with fears. Passion Master Bertie, M spl ne is wounded with compassionate pity, I could drop out my Liver, ob my life Of her deer essence, with immoderate sighs, For that sweet Princes, wronged Eliz beth Now in the gripe of their pernicious hate, A guard of Angels ring her life about, From the malicious practice of her foes; Rebate their furies, cross their treacherous ways, Let truth in her outlive these bloody days. A comfortable salutation To that heart sorrowing Lady which my prayer From heaven has carried to her heart before. A kind embrace from you, exchange a tear, And so farewell. Then thy love is tried: I thought it wou worser have lack ed by my side. Upon thy trust, then I repose my life, Provide me against this even a Citizens Gown, Ath meanest fashion, Like my present Fortune's: This night I'll hazard to escape from hence, Putting my fears into the hand of fate, To trample on or readvance my state, Wilt thou about it? Cranwell. Speak softly, where is Nurse, speak softly pr thee Lord, why toyters she, but call her not: soft, soft, w creaking shoes hast thou God Cranw. to betray our fear put off them traitors. Thou speakest too loud. Yes Cranwell but they do of jealous fear. My life is on the hazard of this game And I mistrust each step will cheat the same. We should not then halt here The poison hath the to eason of my foes, I wish but patience to abide their blows, But who comes here, Nurse, with a candle light 'Tis darkness woman must guide out our fear. Nurse what hast thou done? Disperse away, to Lion key begun. I'll 'trust in him that guides the Innocent, Give me my Child, & Mantle, now heavens pleasure: Frewell, come life or death, I'll hug my treasure, Nay chide not pretty babe, our enemies come Thy crying will pronounce thy mother's dome. Not far, but be thou still This gate may shade us from their envious will. Thus far, but Heaven knows where we would escam The eager pursuit of our enemies, Having for guidance my attentive fear, Still I look back, still start my tired feet, Which never till now measured London street, My honours scorned that custom, they would ride, Now forced to walk, more weary pain to bide: Thou shalt not do so child, I'll carry thee In sorrows arms to welcome misery, Custom must steel thy youth with pinching want, That thy great birth, in age may bear with scant, Sleep peaceably sweet duck, and make no noise Me thinks each step is death's arresting voice, We shall meet Nurse anon, a dug will come To please my quiet infant, when, Nurse, when? Aye me I am overheard. Cranwell. Then heaven is gracious to my ignorance, For had this night worn on the pride of day, By I it could not have found out the way. Whats that, he frighted me. Good M. Goseling stand to us now, Or we are betrayed. Good sir farewell, my prayers on you attend, I will report you for a Princes friend. Bertie. Defer the story, of our dangers passed, To acquaint us with some comfortable aid. What Gentleman is that. May we repose with him? What shall we then do? Content, let it be so, Never two lovers, Married to more woe, Here meet we, and here partly we, o short pleasure, Which fortune serves us, in too small a measure. Berty farewell, to Santon bound we are, With these companions, and our conduct care, You people happy in a land of peace, That joy your consciences, with the world's increase, Look with indifference into my sad life, Here my poor husband, dares not know his wife, And I a Princes, to avoid Like danger, Must use my own deer husband, as a stranger, Towards Santon we, through deserts, any way, Though all should leave me, I for grief must stay. We are beset with thieves. Defend me heaven. My Berty? heaven be praised, Though I am robbed of all the wealth I have, I am rich enough, in my possessing thee, Bind up your wounds, with this white hank My Susan lost, I will not stir one foot, But to the Villains be a second prey, Unless I find her. Amen, amen. O Berty, I do feel the time approach Of my delivery, o for help of Women. Cranwell, what town is this that stands before. Go, begun, Thy looks pleads for a cunning Surgeon, We shall not need, thy help, thy wound is deep, But stay you Bertie, you the Child must keep. Sick I am, heaven knows, Ready to die, with these my pinching throws, It reins, and hails, and snows, and blows at once, Where Berty, may we hide us from this storm. Help, and lead me thither, now lay the Changed down Ber Go gather sticks, to help to make a fire, More plagues my sins do merit year by year, But these, good heavens, are more then I can bear. Si cum front tam generosa cor tuum humanum con sentire Videtur, infortunij nostri miserere. We are not utterly devoid of friends, Behold the young Lord Willowhy smiles on us, And 'tis great help, to have a Lord our Friend. Though misery hath stamped upon out brow The mark of poverty, yet gentle stranger, Do not so far forget all manliness, To be a slanderer of the Innocent. So many to one silly passenger, Then farewell woman weakness, welcome sword, For once I'll play the man, to save my Lord. What shall we do, Behold a Ladder raised against this house, In happy time, mount up and save your life, I will defend the bottom with my sword, And though heaven knows I am overlaid with woe, I'll rather die then see your overthrow. Shift for your own life, take, no care for mine For heavens sake quickly, you delay the time. Do not, I pray, endanger so your life, But trust unto the shelter you have God. O stay a while, I have lost my little babes, What savage hand hath taken my children hence, Whilst we were busied in this luckless brawl. 'Tis so, till now we never were truly miserable, Our other Misery's were sunshine days, Compared unto the greatness of this storm, O suffer me good sir, to seek them out, For without them, I am but half my self. The truest friends we have Of England mighty Prince, I know them both, The first is Doctor Sands, a worthy man, The other Cranwell, and my Secretary. I kindly thank you, for your worthy pains Hath the director of all humane lives, Preserved my Sovereign, that heroic Maid, From the intangling snares of blood and death, And changed her prison, to a royal Throne? Here on this ground, where first I herd the news, I render thanks unto the gracious heavens, Thou that sendest Balm of comfort to the wounded, Joy to the bruised heart, oppressed for truth, Lengthen her days as long as heaven hath stars, Or this fair frame foundation for a world, Or if it be thy gracious providence, For to remove her to a happier place, Let in her stead arise, and from her ashes come, A Phoenix may enlighten Christendom, O, had I now my Children lately lost, I should survive as I had near been crossed. My Per grine, my Susan, then for care To make a mixture with this too much Joy, Or I shall surfeit with the raretie. Revenge shall be a stranger in my heart, The tortures I'll inflict upon my foes, Is kindness, for unkindness, grace for death, For what's prosperity but a puff of breath, My Lord of Brunswick, pray let us be friends. To England with full sails, blow gentle wind, I long to see my Sovereign noble maid, Princes I humbly thank you for these honours, Done to your handmaid, far unworthy them, But time shall testify my thankfulness, Be smooth rough sea, that I may pass a main, To do my duty to my Sovereign. What Prison call you this? If they be able to make satisfaction, & will not, They are worthy to lie there, But if by cruelty of Creditors, 'Tis Christian charity to succour such. Great pity that such men escape unpunished, But are they in the number that do beg. To them we wish a better Conscience, But to the poor, and such as want indeed, One of you give amongst them 40. Angels, My troubles make me sensible of theirs: Distress is sharply set, and bites too soar, To be endured by such as are true poor, So forward Gentlemen. My Lord of Hunsdon, Clinton, Effingam, I humbly thank her Majesty, and you, O may I live to express a loving heart, By some good Actium pleasing to you all. What other Prison Cranwell call you this. 'Tis charity to help distressed men, Of what estate so ere, cause they be men, I leave their faults respect unto the Law, Give them as much as the'ther Prisons, But what is he that with a downcast look, Gives signs of discontentment. That face and voice, I oft have seen and herd, Did not you sometime make abided in Lee. Then I am sure, you knew one Mistress White, This is the man that helped me to escape, When we were near beset with Bonners trains. Hath Bonner been so cruel to my friend, Before mine eyelids wear the seal of sleep, If heaven be pleased I will release thee Goseling. And pay thy charges to the utmost farthing, O my deer friend, it never shall be said I was ungrateful, where I was befriended, And now his troubles make me call to mind, The faithful dealing of my servant Fox, See Lords, a man whom I dismissed my service, More through self-will, then any joust offence, Yet hath he quit that disgrace so well, That I admire the strangeness of his art, For Bonner used him as a special means, To seek my life, which oftentimes he saved, Paying my great unkindness, with kind love, Many such servants may this land afford, That use their wits to such good purposes, Here as a partly of thy deserved reward, I freely give thee a hundred pounds a year, And when I die my land shall make it good. Gramercy gentle servant, now my Lords, Lets bend our pace towards famous Londonbridge, How pleasing is the prospect of the City, Now I have been five years a stranger here, Thorough the same to Whitehall to her grace, That I may see my loving Sovereigns face. What sayest thou? from my King? I kiss his As humbly as my infant penitence, When endue correction threatened mine offence: I may entreat the Palatine with grace, All courtesy and favours, for my Sovereigns sake, I will present him with smooth countenance, But for the point here touching Marriage, Beseech my Prince of pardon, since, as yet, My Widow's tears are scarce wiped from my cheek, Touching the business, bout Sir Roger Willowbie, My deer near kinsman, I'll not return You empty handed back, but send His highness Parram Lordship to dispose, And thank his gracious providence for him. Return my salutations on my knee, And say my whole possessions are all his, Berty reward his pains, On; Stay, and know the reason of that guard, How? give mine eyes the fullness of their wish, Skreen not my Joys, I pray stand all aside, My Gossip Gardener led unto the Tower, 'Tis pity, nay man leave your courtesy, My passion has no tears to answer you, Truth now I hope hath God a holiday, The tyrant Wolf in hold, the Lambs may play, Forward to Sussex house in Barnisby street: More objects yet of comfort? what is he? Faggots will then grow cheap, they say, my Lord, That you have bought up all our firewood, To send us in a shining flame to heaven, But Bertie, see how lean has study made him, And his care with sweating in repress of errors, And Ell will hardly girdle his lean wast. Sands, I'll defer your welcome yet from Cambridge, To show you here a president of zeal. Now Cranwell, what wouldst thou? thy M. go What stay you for, for heavens sake will you go Good Cranwell, sweet Nurse, linger not my woe. Admit I be, let patience ease all, theres no Within cry. For Gravesend hoe. Pass we our fears with them, there stays at Lee A Bark that will redeem our liberty, If you dare venture, with my Fortune's go, A tide of Joy, may turn this stream of Woe. In heavens name, on then, fellows all in sorrow, When we stand needs, weel mutual comfort borrow. The poorest Princes, only rich in faith, Will pay you a large bounty of her prayer , Rememb r then you call me Mistress White, For by that name I passed from Billingsgate, Thence to Gravesend, and so from thence to Lee, Where under your protection we remain. Good heaven protect us, now we are betrayed, This Villain will, I fear, discover us. I now perceive, I have done his faith much wrong, His heart has no relation to his tongue. O my true servants death, does grieve me more, Then all the sorrows that I felt before. Do not disrobe me of my clothes, as y'ar a man. What cries are these, o hast thou slain the Cap. A second volley of heart wounding words, O fly my love, fly, fly, and save thy life, Before the town be raised, shift for your self, If you be taken, theres no way but death. Within. Here, here, this way. Why stir you not, our foes are hard at hand. Rather deer Love take this. He is my husband, and a Gentleman, And I'll defend him from your tyranny. Such are my Fortune's now, Therefore keep off, who ventures on this way, Treadeth a path that leads to his death. Tut Sands, I am no novice to bear off The gusty shock of danger, here is proof, Hath bid the Cannon of rough threatening grief, The death's of one deer Husband, and two Sons, (Regenerate in the fame of their deserts.) Have made a violent shot against this breast, But by the manly courage of that joy, Is knit unto my spirits, to behold The exiled truth, now sojourning with time, The rage of their repugnancy recoils, And I am Mistress of a Virgin heart. I hear you have discharged my household Sir vaunts. Change thou with it. Sir what are you? Nay, Cranwell is all I will beseech of you. Because more stayed, with him, Because of most continuance, And longest wearing in my services. Farewell, pull down thy stubborness of There brea hes no servant of more honesty Wilt please your kindness, keeper, usher me, To teach my steps to usher misery. Be gone I say. Or Bonners hate, but I accept it with a thankfulness. Good M. Goseling now we fly to you As to our harbour, in your hands it lies, Either to comfort, or confound our lives? Whist honest Nurse? how strangely are we Help Bertie, help, 'tis Cranwell faints, o help. Having my Husband, Child, and this my servant, I am the richest Princes on the earth, But Berty, where's the Nurse, and Docter Sands. This your acknowledgment, most mighty king, Amazes me, considering my distress, For 'tis a common custom in the world, To take no notice of the miserable. O fear what art thou! lend me wings to file, Direct me in this plunge of misery, Nature has taught the Child obedience, Thou hast been humble to thy mother's wish, O let me kiss these duteous lips of thine, That would not kill thy mother with a cry, Now forward whither heaven directs, for I Can guide no better then thine infancy, Here are two Pilgrim's bound to Lyon-key, And neither knows one footstep of the way, Return you, then 'tis time to shift me hence. Or you good Captain, agent in this cause. Yet we have escaped the danger of our foes, And I that whilom was exceeding weak, Through my hard travel in this infants birth, Am now grown strong upon necessity, How forward are we towards Windam Castle. They are at hand, o good my love mount up. What heavy thought strains moisture from ̄ thy he What remedy? this was my expectation: I was a With complete resolution, to abide The rigorous wrestle of this stream-borne tied. Faintest thou at this? then thou wouldst swoon to see My honoured state changed to ragged misery.