In vain I fly, and, like a hunted deer,
Scud o'er the lawns, and hasten to the covert;
E'er I can reach my safety, you o'ertake me
With the swift malice of some keen reproach,
And drive the winged shaft deep in my heart.
Alic. Hither you fly, and here you seek repose;
Spite of the poor deceit, your arts are known,
Your pious, charitable, midnight visits!

Hast. If you are wise, and prize your peace of
mind,

Yet take the friendly counsel of my love;
Believe me true, nor listen to your jealousy.
Let not that devil, which undoes your sex,
That cursed curiosity, seduce you

To hunt for needless secrets, which, neglected,
Shall never hurt your quiet: but, once known,
Shall sit upon your heart, pinch it with pain,
And banish the sweet sleep for ever from you.
Go to-be yet advised-

Alic. Dost thou, in scorn,

Preach patience to my rage, and bid me tamely Sit like a poor contented idiot down,

Nor dare to think thou'st wronged me? Ruin seize thee,

And swift perdition overtake thy treachery!
Have I the least remaining cause to doubt?
Hast thou endeavoured once to hide thy false-
hood?

To hide it might have spoke some little tender

ness,

And shewn thee half unwilling to undo me :
But thou disdain'st the weakness of humanity;
Thy words, and all thy actions, have confessed it;
Even now thy eyes avow it, now they speak,
And insolently own the glorious villainy.

Hast. Well, then! I own my heart has broke your chains.

Patient I bore the painful bondage long;

At length my generous love disdains your tyranny:

The bitterness and stings of taunting jealousy,
Vexatious days, and jarring, joyless nights,
Have driven him forth to seek some safer shelter,
Where he may rest his weary wings in peace.

Alic. You triumph? do! and, with gigantic pride,

Defy impending vengeance. Heaven shall wink;
No more his arm shall roll the dreadful thunder,
Nor send his lightnings forth: no more his jus-
tice

Shall visit the presuming sons of men,
But perjury, like thine, shall dwell in safety.
Hast. Whate'er my fate decrees for me here-
after,

Be present to me now, my better angel!
Preserve me from the storm that threatens now,
And if I have beyond atonement sinned,
Let any other kind of plague o'ertake me,
So I escape the fury of that tongue.

Alic. Thy prayer is heard-I go-but know, proud lord,

Howe'er thou scorn'st the weakness of my sex, This feeble hand may find the means to reach thee,

Howe'er sublime in power and greatness placed, |

With royal favour guarded round and graced
On eagle's wings my rage shall urge her flight,
And hurl thee headlong from thy topmost heigh-
Then, like thy fate, superior will I ́sit,
And view thee fallen, and grovelling at my fee
See thy last breath with indignation go,
And tread thee sinking to the shades below.

[Exil

Hast. How fierce a fiend is passion! with wha
wildness,

What tyranny untamed it reigns in woman!
Unhappy sex! whose easy yielding temper
Gives way to every appetite alike:

Each gust of inclination, uncontrouled,
Sweeps through their souls, and sets them in an
uproar;

Each motion of the heart rises to fury,
And love, in their weak bosoms, is a rage
As terrible as hate, and as destructive.

So the wind roars o'er the wide fenceless ocean,
And heaves the billows of the boiling deep,
Alike from north, from south, from east, from
west;

With equal force the tempest blows, by turns,
From every corner of the seaman's compass.
But soft ye now-for here comes one, disclaims
Strife and her wrangling train; of equal elements,
Without one jarring atom, was she formed,
And gentleness and joy make up her being.—

Enter JANE SHORE.

Forgive me, fair one, if officious friendship
Intrudes on your repose, and comes thus late
To greet you with the tidings of success.
The princely Gloster has vouchsafed you hear-
ing;

To-morrow he expects you at the court;
There plead your cause, with never-failing beauty,
Speak all your griefs, and find a full redress.

J. Sh. Thus humbly let your lowly servant bend, [Kneeling.

Thus let me bow my grateful knee to earth,
And bless your noble nature for this goodness.
Hast. Rise, gentle dame; you wrong my mean-

ing much;

Think me not guilty of a thought so vain,
To sell my courtesy for thanks like these!

J. Sh. 'Tis true, your bounty is beyond my speaking:

But though my mouth be dumb, my heart shall thank you;

And when it melts before the throne of mercy,
Mourning and bleeding for my past offences,
My fervent soul shall breathe one prayer for you,
If prayers of such a wretch are heard on high,
That Heaven will pay you back, when most you
need,

The grace and goodness you have shewn to me.
Hast. If there be aught of merit in my service,
Impute it there, where most 'tis due, to love;
Be kind, my gentle mistress, to my wishes,
And satisfy my panting heart with beauty!
J. Sh. Alas! my lord-

Hast. Why bend thy eyes to earth? Wherefore these looks of heaviness and sorrow?

me,

Still to repeat my rit, to re my infamy,
And treat me like that abject time I have been.
Yet let the saints be witness to this trich
That now, though, late, I look with borror back,
That I detest my wretched self, and corse
My past polluted iffe. Aldring Heaven,
Who knows my crimes, has seen my sorrow for
them.

Hast. No more of this dull stuf Tis time enough

To whine and mortify thyself with penance,
When the decaying sense is paled with pleasure,
And weary nature tires in her last stage;
Then weep and tell thy beads, when altering
rheums

Have stained the lustre of thy starry eyes,
And failing palsies shake thy withered hand.
The present moment claims more generous use;
Thy beauty, night, and solitude reproach me,
For having talked thus long-come, let me press
thee,
[Laying hold of her.
Pant on thy bosom, sink into thy arms,
And lose myself in the luxurious flood!
J. Sh. Never! by those chaste lights above, I
swear,

My soul shall never know pollution more;

thee.

I know thee, too, for one who stains those ho

Yet Heaven, that made me honest, made me more Than ever king did, when he made a lord.

Hast. Insolent villain! henceforth let this teach thee [Draws and strikes him. The distance 'twixt a peasant and a prince! Dum. Nay, then, my lord, [drawing] learn you by this, how well

An arm resolved can guard its master's life. [They fight. J. Sh. Oh, my distracting fears! hold, for sweet Heaven. [Runs off distractedly. [They fight, DUMONT disarms Lord HASTINGS. Hast. Confusion! baffled by a base-born .hind!

Dum. Now, haughty sir, where is our difference now?

Your life is in my hand, and did not honour,
The gentleness of blood, and inborn virtue,
(Howe'er unworthy I may seem to you)
Plead in my bosom, I should take the forfeit.
But wear your sword again; and know, a lord
Opposed against a man, is but a man.

4

Hast. Curse on my failing arm! Your better fortune

Has given you 'vantage o'er me; but perhaps Your triumph may be bought with dear repent[Exit HASTINGS.

ance.

Enter JANE SHORE.

Is made the scorner's jest; where hate, deceit, And deadly ruin, wear the masques of beauty, And draw deluded fools with shews of pleasure. J. Sh. Where should I fly, thus helpless and forlorn,

Of friends, and all the means of life bereft ? Dum. Belmour, whose friendly care still wakes to serve you,

Has found you out a little peaceful refuge,
Far from the court and the tumultuous city.
Within an ancient forest's ample verge,
There stands a lonely but a healthful dwelling,
Built for convenience and the use of life:
Around it fallows, meads, and pastures fair,
A little garden, and a limpid brook,
By nature's own contrivance seems disposed;
No neighbours but a few poor simple clowns,
Honest and true, with a well-meaning priest:
No faction, or domestic fury's rage,
Did e'er disturb the quiet of that place,
When the contending nobles shook the land
With York and Lancaster's disputed sway.
Your virtue there may find a safe retreat
From the insulting powers of wicked greatness.
J. Sh. Can there be so much happiness in

store!

A cell like that is all my hopes aspire to. Haste, then, and thither let us take our flight, Ere the clouds gather, and the wintry sky

the power,

The mightiness, that waits upon this lord?

Dum. Fear not, my worthiest mistress; 'tis a

Dum. Will you then go! You glad my very

soul.

Banish your fears, cast all your cares on me; Plenty and ease, and peace of mind shall wait

you,

And make your latter days of life most happy.
Oh, lady! but I must not, cannot tell you,
How anxious I have been for all your dangers,
And how my heart rejoices at your safety.
So when the spring renews the flowery field,
And warns the pregnant nightingale to build,
She seeks the safest shelter of the wood,
Where she may trust her little tuneful brood;
Where no rude swains her shady cell may know,
No serpents climb, nor blasting winds may blow;
Fond of the chosen place, she views it o'er,
Sits there, and wanders through the grove no

SCENE I.-The Court.

Enter ALICIA with a paper.

Alic. This paper to the great protector's hand, With care and secrecy, must be conveyed; His bold ambition now avows its aim, To pluck the crown from Edward's infant brow,

And fix it on his own. I know he holds
My faithless Hastings adverse to his hopes,
And much devoted to the orphan king;
On that I build: this paper meets his doubts,
And marks my hated rival as the cause
Of Hastings' zeal for his dead master's sons.
Oh, jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship,

Thou worst invader of our tender bosoms,
How does thy rancour poison all our softness,
And turn our gentle natures into bitterness?
See where she comes! once my heart's dearest
blessing;

Now my chang'd eyes are blasted with her beauty,
Loathe that known face, and sicken to behold her.

Enter JANE SHORE.

J. Sh. Now whither shall I fly to find relief? What charitable hand will aid me now? Will stay my falling steps, support my ruins, And heal my wounded mind with balmy comfort? Oh, my Alicia!

Alic. What new grief is this?

What unforeseen misfortune has surprised thee,
That racks thy tender heart thus?
J. Sh. Oh, Dumont !

Alic. Say, what of him?

J. Sh. That friendly, honest man, Whom Belmour brought of late to my assistance, On whose kind care, whose diligence and faith, My surest trust was built, this very morn Was seized on by the cruel hand of power, Forced from my house, and borne away to prison.

Alic. To prison, said you! can you guess the cause?

J. Sh. Too well, I fear. His bold defence of

To feed her wants, and save her life from perish. ing.

Glost. Arise, fair dame, and dry your watery eyes.

[Receiving the paper, and raising her. Beshrew me, but 'twere pity of his heart That could refuse a boon to such a suitress. You have got a noble friend to be your advocate; A worthy and right gentle lord he is, And to his trust most true. This present now, Some matters of the state detain our leisure; Those once dispatched, we'll call for you anon, Go to! be comAnd give your griefs redress.

forted.

J. Sh. Good Heavens repay your highness for this pity,

And shower down blessings on your princely head!
Come, my Alicia, reach thy friendly arm,
And help me to support this feeble frame,
That nodding totters with oppressive woe,
And sinks beneath its load.

[Exeunt J. SH. and ALIC.
Glost. Now, by my holidame!
Heavy of heart she seems, and sore afflicted.
But thus it is when rude calamity
Lays its strong gripe upon these mincing minions,
The dainty gew-gaw forms dissolve at once,
And shiver at the shock. What says her paper?
[Seeming to read.

Ha! what is this? come nearer, Ratcliffe!

Catesby ! Mark the contents, and then divine the meaning. [He reads

'Wonder not, princely Gloster, at the notice "This paper brings you from a friend unknown; 'Lord Hastings is inclined to call you master,

And kneel to Richard, as to England's king; 'But Shore's bewitching wife misleads his heart, And draws his service to king Edward's sons: 'Drive her away, you break the charm that holds him,

And he, and all his powers, attend you.'
Rat. 'Tis wonderful!

Cat. The means by which it came,
Yet stranger too!

Glost. You saw it given, but now.
Rat. She could not know the purport.
Glost. No, 'tis plain-

She knows it not, it levels at her life;
Should she presume to prate of such high matters,
The meddling harlot! dear she should abide it.

Cat. What hand soe'er it comes from, be assured, It means your highness wellGlost. Upon the instant, Lord Hastings will be here; this morn I mean prove him to the quick; then if he flinch, No more but this-away with him at once! He must be mine or nothing-But he comes! Draw nearer this way, and observe me well. [They whisper.

To

Enter Lord HASTINGS. Hast. THIS foolish woman hangs about my heart,