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

The fifth ACT, the first Scene:

Enter King, and followers.

King.

LEave us. Just Heav'n to you I owe my Crown,

Exeunt.

And when you please, you may too pluck it down. 'Twas you that put this Scepter in my hand, And to you for't alone, I debter stand. Instead of making me a mighty King, You might have made me, an inferiour thing. 'Twas all at your dispose, and sacred will, And to my nothing, may reduce me still.

Do so kind Heav'n, much rather then permit, That to my Subjects, I shoo'd e're submit. That e're I shoo'd be subject, to their Law, And be compell'd, of them to stand in awe. Oh let not after ages, for to come, With any such report, molest my Tomb. Let not my Epitaph be underwrit, Here lies a King, did such a thing commit. Here lies a King, which only had the name, But not the power, to maintain the same. Dishonour not your self, so much in me, As suffer such a thing, in Historie. But as you have ord••in'd me here below, Your Deputy, to men your will to shew: So give me po••er, likewise to subdue, Such as refuse, your pleasure for to do: And help my arm, to make them for to ••eel, What 'tis with your Anointed, so to deal.

Prince enters.

Prince.

I h••ard not long since from a servants hand, How th•• you•• Maj••••tie, did me demand.

King.

'Tis true, 'twas that you might your self prepare, To meet the Spanish Princess, at Gomare. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 she will strike in at, without faile, Within th•••••• t••o dayes, if she have a Gale.

Prince.

To do your pleasure Sir, I'le make me 〈◊〉〈◊〉, And to that purpose, all things ready get. I had no 〈…〉〈…〉, h••retofore 'tis true, But now see my fault, and error too: And do th••••eof, repent with all my soul, My dis••••••dience, seems to me so foul.

King.

We Fathers better then our Children know, VVhat's good for them, how rough so e're we show.

Pray be not sparing, of our purse at all, That no discredit, to us may befall. But use such Pomp, and State, as shall be due, Both to her Person, and likewise to you.

Prince.

There shall be nothing wanting, on my part, Implease you Sir, to testifie my heart. And to report, your Greatness ev'ry where, If Art, or Cost, can make it to appear.

Exit.

King.

Unhappy Prince, for to be heir unto My Crown, and Scepter, and to have to do VVith such rebellious people, as he must, VVhen I shall be returned, to my Dust. Coo'd I but once, them to obedience bring, How I shoo'd think my self, a happy King!

Lycas enters.

Lycas.

Implease you Sir, I'me sorry for to bring, Such heavy tydings, to so great a King. I 'fore I came, did with my self dispute, Whether or no, I shoo'd presume to do't. But when I call'd to mind, it woo'd be known, I thought I coo'd, but make my duty shown.

King.

What? more misfortune yet? when shall I be, Ye Gods, I faign woo'd know, from trouble free? Am I the mark, of all your rage and scorn? Or with such jewels, do ye Crowns adorn? Well, out with it, for I am sure at worst, It cannot be well worser, then the first.

Lycas.

The Cardinal just now, implease your Grace, Was apprehended, in his own Pallace. And carry'd by the people, thence away, Unto the Castle, for to die men say. In going thither, he was shrewdly hurt, ••o did the vulgar sort, throw stones and dirt.

King.

The Cardinal us'd thus! good Heav'n is't true? Then give me over, to their malice too. Oh give me not a being, worse then Death, For so 'twill be, when he shall lose his breath. Here take your Crown, and Crown your self with it, For on my head, it can no longer sit. Next unto you, 'twas he that kept it on, And 'twill fall off no doubt, when he is gone, Where is the man, so able and so wise, On all occasions, me for to advise? Who understands, and too withall is true, To that which he does undertake to do: To whom may I with safety, now impart, The dearest thought, that lodges in my heart? Ah Heav'ns! is't possible you shoo'd forget, Your Greatness so, as such a thing permit? Let him, who offers incense at your Altars be Us'd by the people, so irreverently! Rowse up your self, and do not fall asleep, When you shoo'd wake, your servants for to keep: And work with me, these Rebels to subdue, Which do not care a rush, for me nor you.

Marshal enters.

Marsh.

'Bove twenty thousand men well chosen Sir, Which do your ease, before their lives prefer, Are marching t'wards your Pallace with all speed, To help your Majestie, if there be need.

King.

What man! twenty thousand men! this is news Which likes us well, if you don't us abuse: We are not yet, so ill belov'd we see, Nor yet so poor, as we were thought to be, If this be certain, which Heav'n grant it may, And that before we strike, they may obey.

Sotus enters.

Sotus.

Implease you Sir, the Prince sent me in post, To tell you, that on this Polonian Coast, Is safe arrived with a mighty Train, The Princess Flora, so belov'd in Spain. Fifty sail of Ships, of a thousand Tuns, Each carr'ing threescore Tire, of brasen Guns, Are full of souldiers, for to help your Grace, In case, your subjects, shoo'd not give you place.

King.

Fifty sail of Ships! and so many men! Is news which does exceed, the first agen. Kind Heav'n forgive me, if I did contemn, Before I was aware, my Diadem. It was my passion, made me to despair, But now I see, you have of me a care. Here, kiss our hand, come Marshal let us go, And see what we can do, to win our foe. If that by fair means, they will yield those Lords, We will not notwithstanding, draw our swords.

Exeunt.