The English princess, or, The death of Richard the III a tragedy written in the year 1666, and acted at His Highness the Duke of York's Theatre.
Caryll, John, 1625-1711.
SCENA VII.
Enter Earl of Richmond, Ld Stanly, and Officer of the Guards.
Officer.
Though my Commission peremptory was,
Yet you (my Lord) upon your Word shall pass.
Ld Stanly.
I know a Souldier's charge; and would forbear
Without full warrant to adventure here.
Exit Officer.
Prin.
What may this vision mean, which does my eyes
At once with Horrour, and Delight surprise?
But, since the faithful Stanly does appear,
I cannot think him brought a Pris'ner here.
Richmond.
Led by the Duty of my Love, I come
Resolving to divert, or share your Doom.
Prin.
Ah! what can you divert by coming here
Disguis'd, and not an open Conquerer?
When you your Danger rashly thus encrease,
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How can you hope to make my Sufferings less?
Charlot apart.
[apart.
What does his cruel Passion mean to do?He'l lose himself, and for my Rival too!
Richmond.
Let not my Hazard, Madam, waste your care:
Can I be safe, when you in Danger are?
When you are gone, what have I more to do?
All Cause of living perisheth with you.
Prin.
Weak minds may throw away their Lives in vain,
And have Recourse to Death for fear of Pain:
If this were Courage, Women would not do it;
Those, who dare least, are still most subject to it.
Richmond.
On your account I owne my want of Heart;
Here Fortune wounds me in my tend' rest part.
All other Storms of Fate my Soul could bear:
Only your Danger, Madam, makes me fear.
Prin.
Is it an Honour, you reserve for me,
To be the cause of your Apostacie
From that high Courage, which has rais'd your Fame?
You must not cast such Scandal on our Flame.
By your Concern for me you must be more,
And not be less, then what you were before.
Richmond.
Ah! Madam, whilst my Fears you thus reprove,
You shew your self a Stranger grown to Love;
Your own Experience else had made it clear,
That Lovers Hearts are never void of fear.
Who thus are unconcern'd, act not the part
Of a Couragious, but a hard'ned Heart.
Charlot.
If his be hard, 'tis only hard to me.
apart.
Prin.
I blame not your Concern to set me free,
But your Despair, which makes you thus neglect
The only Means, which can my Life protect;
For if my Danger may diverted be,
Your Conqu'ring Sword must force my Liberty.
Richmond.
How can I draw my Sword, when I descry
Your Fatal Ruine in my Victory?
The Monster balted, and then Furious grown,
Will all his Rage discharge on you alone.
But what we cannot by a Rescue gain,
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Perhaps by an Exchange we may obtain:
The Tyrant, jealous of the Chance of War,
Will, to be siez'd of me, your Person spare.
I humbly beg this Favour at your Feet,
In which your Safety, and my Glory meet.
Princess.
By such a change I shall a loser be;
The Ransome over-buys my Libertie.
Whilst you the Height of Love in this express,
You teach my Gratitude to do no less;
Which will not let you here usurp my Room,
Nor yield, that you shall rob me of my Doom.
Richmond.
Has Heaven but mockt us with such excellence,
Only to shew it, and then snatch it hence?
Can Providence want Power, or Will to save
Vertue her self from the devouring Grave?
Princess.
Take heed! your Passion does unruly grow
Against your Reason, and Religion too;
Sir, when you injure those, you injure me:
You must obey, not argue Heaven's decree;
And both our losses with a Courage bear.
Worthy of me, and of a Conquerer.
Rich.
What shall I do? when Heaven, and Love combine,
To make the Danger yours, the Terrour mine:
You are the Person hurt, and I complain;
Yours is the Wound, and mine is all the Pain.
Princess.
These soft expressions of your kindness might
In some more proper Season move delight;
But they offend me now, when you should be
Preparing in the Field for Victorie.
Pray, Sir, depart; For you by Conquest must
With Laurel crown my Temples, or my Dust.
Richmond.
If this perfection (Heaven!) so like your own,
Must only fill a Tomb, and not the Throne,
How will our Faith subsist, how shall we know,
That those above have thoughts of us below?
Princess.
When you expect a Favour, 'tis not just,
Nor safe, that you the giver should mistrust.
Let my example now instruct your mind;
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Be much resolv'd, and yet as much resign'd.
So Heaven preserve you, Sir! my Presence may
Perhaps be guilty of your longer stay.
[Exit Princess.
L. Stanly.
The Princess is retir'd; pray, Sir, make haste;
The Night's your shelter, and begins to waste.
Richmond.
My Lord, I go: only a word from thee,
My faithful Boy, which may my Cordial be.
[To Charlot.
Say; does our Mistress with an open Ear,
When thou dost speak for me, thy pleading hear?
And yet alas! What ease will it impart,
To lose her Person, and to gain her Heart?
Charlot.
Your Highness now may well these questions spare,
Since her own Words did all her Thoughts declare.
[Enter Mrs. Stan.
Mrs. Stan.
Pray, Sir, depart; the Princess fears your stay.
Richmond.
O! who from Heaven, and Her would haste away?
Exeunt.
