The heroick-lover, or, The infanta of Spain by George Cartwright ...

The third Scene:

Enter King, and divers followers.

King.

GO tell the Cardinal, and Marshal thus, That 'tis our pleasure, they shoo'd come to us.

Exeunt.

Leave us alone: that we shoo'd him remove, Whom 'bove our life, and Kingdom, we do love! No, no, wee'le never do••t, wee'le rather die, Then either him, or else his Counsel flie: My Lord you're welcome, to our Royal ear,

Cardinal enters.

Wee've news to tell you, set you in this Chair.

Card.

Implease you Sir, I know my duty well, And where my distance, likewise ought to dwell.

King.

Set down we say, for 'tis our Princely will, That you in this, our pleasure shoo'd fulfill. Be cover'd too, and then we will proceed, To tell you that, which makes our soul to bleed. Our Subjects grieved are, and say the cause, Proceeds from you, 'cause you despise our Laws: Advising us, to govern them by will, Which they to us, presented have by Bill:

That ev'ry day, their taxes more and more Do so increase, that they are grown so poor, They are not able, by no means to live, Nor to their wives, and children, bread to give: Which ought to be, most sensible to us, To see them for our sakes, to suffer thus. We must my Lord, think on some way to ease Them out of hand, their fury to appease: Lest le••ting them, so long in vain to waite, They shoo'd become, insens'd, and desperate. But that which grievs us most, is, they demand, Your precious person, at our royal hand▪ And will on no conditions, be at rest, Until of you, they fully be possest: Which we in justice, cannot yield unto, We are my Lord, so much oblig'd to you.

Card.

In nothing else, I think my self so poor, As that I cannot, serve your Highness more. It is implease your Majestie, no news, To hear the common people, me accuse. These many years, they've had at all no shame To threaten me, and likewise blast my name. But still I have preserv'd me, from their reach, And will in time, them better manners teach.

King.

What can we do, against a multitude?

Car.

Do as you've done, use them extreamly rude.

King.

But that will but provoke them more and more.

Car.

The way to keep them down, 's to keep them poor. For shoo'd your Highness, let them wealthy grow, And suffer them, no misery to know; They woo'd on all occasions, able be, For to rebell, against your Majestie.

King.

But we have pas't our Royal word, to ease Them of their taxes, if that, them will please.

Card.

Then you have done, that which you will repent, Think you they will with that, themselves content? No no, upon my word, they will pull down, If that they can, from off your head your Crown, I know too well, the nature of those men, How that there's not amongst them, one in ten, Which truly loves, the title of a King, So is it to them, such an odious thing. They woo'd that all men, shoo'd in common live, And have no Law, but what themselves do give.

Marshal enters.

Marsh.

Your Lord High Admiral, implease your Grace, Was even now, arrested 'fore my face; And carry'd to the Castle, in all hast, There close p••isoner, to be shut up fast.

King.

What says our Marshal? speak it once again, For to conceive you, we have mighty pain.

Card.

I cannot blame your Highness, 'tis a thing, Sufficient to astonish, any King.

Marsh.

Your Admiral implease you Sir, I say, Was carry'd even now, by force away.

King.

Who is't, that was so sawcy, and so bold, Without our order, on him to lay hold?

Marsh.

The men which did the other day, by Bill, Present unto your Grace, your peoples will.

King.

Our Admiral in prison! can it be! Just Heavens, tho't cost our Crown, wee'le set him free: We will not long, there suffer him to lie, And too much less, consent he e're shall die. To us his services, are too well known, To let him under, such a burthen groan.

We cannot with him, so un-King-like deal, Who has so much oblig'd, our Common-weal. No, no, wee'le make, those blacker souls to know, That more respect, to us they ought to shew, Then to arrest, without our Royal leave, Any, which we don't criminal conceive. Think they, we hold this Scepter here in vain, And over us, will suffer them to raign: Men namely which more cruel are, then wise, Which God, and all Religion, do despise? Or think they, wee'le content us with the name Of King, and not in power, be the same? No, no, by Heaven, wee'le make their pride to fall, And will be King, or else not King at all. Go fetch the heads, of those two Monsters straite, And clap them fast, upon the City gate, To serve for terror, and example too, To any that hereafter, so woo'd do. And break the prison doors, to set him free, For wee'le not stay, until they op'ned be.

Marsh.

Implease your Grace, I'le make what speed I may, Your Majesty in this, for to obey.

Exit▪

Card.

This is the language, of a King indeed, And of such men, the means for to be free'd. Shoo'd not your Highness, with such rigour deal, You'de quickly overthrow, your Common-weal. It is no little danger, for to give The rains to such, which know not how to live.

King.

'Tis true my Lord, but yet too strict a course, Oftimes does make some men, but ten times worse. Had we to deal, with men of wit and sence, They coo'd not be mis••ed, by ought pretence.

Pray Heaven, our Kingdom, and our Crown defend, From that which we so much, do apprehend.

Car.

What can your Highness, apprehend, I'de know, Considering that you have, no forraign foe?

King.

A Domestick one, is worse my Lord by far, Shoo'd we be forced, to a Civil war.

Card.

That's not likely, they may perchance rebell, But long resist, believ't they cannot tell, Because you do possess, implease your Grace, Ev'ry Town of strength, and war-like place.

King.

VVell, hap how 'twill, we Heaven to witness take, VVe will not strike, until that us they make. And 't shall be with regret, and sorrow too, So 'gainst our Subjects, to be forc't to do.

Enter Spe∣dicious with a dispatch from Spain.

Sped.

My Lord does humbly kiss your Highness hands, And too with all, sent me with these commands. 'Tis news, implease your Majesty from Spain, To tell you how the match, they entertain.

King.

Here, kiss our hand, how does your Master? well? Has no mischance, him in the way befell?

Sped.

No, none implease your Majestie, he did Arrive with acclamations, at Madrid: So joyful were the people, for to hear, The cause, and Subject, of his coming there.

King.

Tis well, our business needs, must take effect, Since that the common people, it affect.

Exeunt.