ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.

The French Camp before Dover, with a distant View of the Castle.

Rejoicing-Enter the FRENCH PRINCE, NEVERS, and BEAUMONT, from the PRINCE's tent.

Fr. Pr. Hail to this day, this proud, auspicious day,

That sees us peerless lord of England's throne!
Our rival John sleeps safely with his sires,
And leaves a baby to resist our might.
All then is ours. Proclaim a public feast,
That full festivity through all the camp
Speak the large measure of the general joy.
Nev. Health and prosperity to England's lord!
Fr. Pr. Yes, now methinks this island part of
France,

And much we glory, thus to have acquired
Such bright appendage to our father's crown.
Hence, shall one law the rival lands unite,
This fertile isle the store-house be to France,
These cultured fields for her their grain produce,

These venturous merchants brave for her the seas, And severing waters be but as the streams, Designed to waft these treasures to her shores.

Beau. Vast is the work your sword hath here achieved:

Yet think, O prince, whereon your triumph stands.
We cannot hold this country at our feet,
Unless her rebel children bind her down.
You've sworn to keep their antiquated laws,
And should you swerve from such fair promise now,
They may desert, nay, 'gainst us turn their arms.
Fr. Pr. We cannot keep the conquest we have
gained!

I say, we can, we will. The lion's bound

In chains; and though he roar, and threat and rage,
He cannot harm his master through the toils.
We know these barons swell with bitter gall,
That we neglect to bend us to their will,
And make us minister to their caprice.

But do they think, for them we've crossed the seas,
For them we've spent the treasure and the blood
Of our own kingdom? O impolitic

And shallow men! to think we would refuse
An empty oath, to win so fair a realm!

Nev. Sire hither come the leaders of the tribe,

Enter SURREY, LINCOLN, and FITZWALTER. Fr. Pr. Most valiant sirs, a gracious welcome, all, Why so long absent in these times of joy? Lin. Prince, we've been watching Dover tower, in hopes

Thereon to see the flag of truce displayed.

Fitz. Lincoln saith true, and I, sir, will say true. The English scorn those councils to attend, Whereat their voices with contempt are heard. Fr. Pr. Fitzwalter, whence this lack of courtesy:

Ye share our bosom's secrets, noble friends.

Our herald comes.

[Trumpets.

Brave English, now attend.

Enter a French HERALD.

Well, man, doth Hubert own our clemency,
And yield this fortress, to save loss of blood?
Her. Dread prince! he scoffs at all your terms
proposed.

Fr. Pr. The fool! did'st thou not say, his master,

John,

Was dead, and threaten, should he cross our will,
His captive brother should, beneath his eyes,
Be tortured unto death?

Her. My liege, I used

Each art persuasive, and each threat, in vain.
He said, if John were dead, his children still
Survived, to whom the same allegiance fell;
And for his brother-though his heart grew sick
At those my words, yet as he held yon towers
In trust but for his king, he had not power
To bend the public to his private cares.
Sur. My generous countryman!

Fr. Pr. Most insolent!

But will the garrison support the slave?

Aside.

Her. He spoke, my Lord, the general sentiment. The people swore to dash their children down-Their wives, themselves-down yonder steep to

death,

Ere they betray their king, and yield to France.
And as they saw me from the hill descend,
They sent a sort of frantic shout on high,
Confirming their decree.

Fr. Pr. Regard we not

This castle-crowned cliff, whose height alone Withstands our conquering arms; but let us march Against the northern lands; and when we've stormed

The very temple of the state itself,
Soon shall this altar, to its idol pledged,
Its idol, Independence, prove our prize,
And France's genius seize it for her shrine.

Sur. Never; no, never shall thy country's genius Pluck down our independence? Sir, thou dream'st; Thou hast infringed thine honour in the thought. Fr. Pr. (Aside.) Such touchy fools!-Why, Surrey, so severe !

"Tis not for friends to peer about for words, Thence to extract some semblance of offence. Thou dost forerun my thought of injury.

Nev, Ye testy men, so national, so proud, Will ye for ever thus mistrust our lord? Who rescued you from out oppression's gripe, Who gave you treasures in your time of need, Who clothed your fields with troops, your seas with ships,

And set his life at hazard, for your sakes?

This gracious prince and now you doubt his

And now

truth,

you

thank him with contracted brows, And taunting words, and still more taunting looks. Lin. Nay, good Nevers, thou wrong'st our gratitude.

We owe the very being of our cause

To his support, and feel the debt we owe.

Fr. Pr. Your cause is ours; we have one cause, We claim

No recompense but faith and truth,

Sur. If faith

Be kept with us, faith will be kept with thee.
But do thy deeds, nay, even thy very words,
Accord with that same oath thou once hast sworn,
The oath to keep our liberties entire ?
We're firm to that great comprehensive bond.

This sword hath sent one tyrant to the dust;
It knows its duty for the next.
No more,

Nev. Unruly man, that dares insult his lord,
All gentle as he is, with such foul threat!

I know thy treachery, know thy changeling mind,
Thy love-sick bosom, thy insidious tricks-
Thou art a traitor, Surrey.

Sur. Ha! by heaven!

Thou answer'st for that word.

[SURREY attempts to draw his sword; FITZWAL TER and LINCOLN interfere.

Nev. Nay, nay, thy hand

Lay not upon thy sword; burst not with spleen,
Thou froward man, I've proof-

Sur. Monster, of what?

Ah! ha! a death-like freezing through my veins→→→ My wife my child!-peace-(Aside.) Proof of what?

Fr. Pr. O friends,

Compose this strife: keep your high mettle for
The common foe. Nevers, thou art too warm;
Our trusty Surrey spoke a solemn truth.
May every tyrant fall beneath his sword!

We know no tyrant here. (Sawest thou his look? (Aside to BEAUMONT.)

Watch Surrey through these times, there's danger in him.)

Come, Lords of either kingdom, cousins all, Hence, on for Lincoln; which will soon be ours, And with it all the empire of the north.

Beau. These unconnected castles soon will fall, And then our sovereign may enjoy the fruits Of these his labours-dignity and ease.

Fr. Pr. Our present fortunes are most pleasing

too.

Sweet is occasional suspense we deem,

When much to hope, and little's left to fear.