The bloody duke, or, The adventures for a crown a tragi-comedy, as it was acted at the courts at Alba Regalis by several persons of great quality / written by the author of The abdicated prince.

ACT V. Scene III.

The Vestry belonging to the Jebusites Chappel at St. Jacques.

The Scene opens, and discovers Caligula; his Confession. Two Jebu∣sites and Le Talbo at Counsel; about the place hang Pistols, Dag∣gers, Guns, Bow-strings, Halters, and all other Instruments of Death.

Cal.

WEll, Holy Father, what do's yet remain, Which I with glad concurrence will not grant, To render meour Mothers worthy Son? Tell me, my wise Instructors; have not I Shewn and drawn out in lively Characters, A just assurance of your future Joys? I think if Loyala himself were here, And with impartial Judgment consider, How strict I have been a Follower of his steps: How to the life I've copied his Original: How well digested and improv'd his Precepts, I think, grave Fathers, he nor you could blush To own and praise the merit of my Deeds.

Cor.

Great Sir, believe it quite impossible To find that Villain, that could dare deny Th' Mighty Wonders of your glorious Life. Truth, like the bright Meridian Sun, shines out,

And to the gazing wondring World, discovers More Valour, Wisdom, in your single self, Than half Mankind together else can claim: In mighty Acts of War invincible, In Peace superlatively Wise and Prudent. But above all, great Sir, your holy Zeal,

(Like the bright Moon amidst the twinkling Stars)

Has, with such vast effectual Influence, Scatter'd its golden Rays among your People, That after-Ages will be at a stand Where they shall fix your highest Attribute; And doubt which most they should extol and praise, Your Courage, Wisdom, or your Piety.

Cal.

'Tis true, I suck'd in with my Infant-Milk, Which only with my Blood can be allay'd; A flaming Zeal to holy Mother-Church. And though all Art and Industry be try'd, Whereby to right and raise our sinking Cause; Yet while my Brother, whose soft timerous Nature Delays and clips the Wings of all our Hopes, While he dams up and clogs the easie passage, To the wide Field of Power and Liberty, I fear we toil in vain.

Jeb.

Our Holy Cannons, Great Sir, declare it lawful and deserving, To lay aside all Obstacles that seem A Damage or Dishonour to our Church; And we can hardly doubt Androgynes, If he be truly Pagan, as he owns, Will grudge or scruple once to step aside, Till by the means of his more active Brother, Our dropping Cause revive.

2. Jeb.

'Tis not our Care To search his Will, which great Caligula, Convinc'd by our Advice and solid Reasons, Declares his Pleasure in this weighty Case: Our Duty bids us bow, and straight obey him.

Cal.

Our Holy Prophet knows, most Reverend Fathers,'tis not Ambition prompts my eager Soul, thus to ascend the Throne my Brother fills; Nor can it Interest be, since all the Kingdom, my Treasures mount almost to In∣finite; nor can the other Darling of ones Soul, Revenge, allure me to com∣mit this Deed.

Rem.

Why, when he speaks thus, he certainly pretends to banter us.Ud∣slife, sure he would not mock us: Not Ambition, quoth he! No, not Ambition by any means; though he could dispence with, and intreigue and endeavour to supplant his Brother, before he enjoy'd his Crown: But that's all one; he does but blandish our own Weapons; and we'll give him leave to talk, so we get but our Ends of him. And then again, 'Tis not Interest: Ha, ha, ha; I'll vow he makes me laugh: No, not Interest? though by Traffick and Merchan∣dising, by the best Places of Profit, and by cheating his Brother, he has scrap'd up half the Money of the Kingdom, for this very Use and Design: And then for Revenge, since I am never like to be his Enemy, and consequently not liable to it, I'll not trouble my self much with it; though by the bye, I could instance in a Cloud of Witnesses, to bear Testimony of his calm forgiving Nature.

Cal.

'Tis only, Reverend Sirs, a Pious Zeal To propagate, or re-induce, with speed, Those Holy Principles, that Glowing Faith, Which warm'd the the Souls of our Wise Primitive Fathers.

Cor.

Designs so Pious, ought to be encouraged, And prompted with the Hopes of vast Rewards: Masses, Indulgences, and Dispensations Shall Crown your Work, even to Infinity; Our Prayers shall all, Unanimous, be sent To our most Holy Prophet, and his Mother, For Success here, and joy t'your Soul hereafter. But say, Great Sir, When will your Generous Soul, Spare a few Minutes for so Great a Work.

Cal.

To Morrow Night he does design to Revel, And Sup with Count d' Arlin, and my self: I have agreed le Talbo shall be there. And help to Administer, and serve at Table: And when his Heart is warm with Love and Wine; His Fancy tickled with Delight and Pleasure; When with his Praises we have fill'd his Thoughts, And lull'd his Reason quite beyond suspition; Then, Holy Fathers, then, the Minute blest, Which by his Loss restores our Joys forever. This is the manner, that the appointed time; Fly Lazy Minutes, prompt on the Lazy Sun; Sick with delay, I faint 'till it be done.

(Exeunt Omnes.