Bulling.
Can no Man tell of my unthrifty Son?
'Tis full three Months since I did see him last.
If any Plague hang over us, 'tis he:
I would to Heav'n, my Lords, he might be found.
Enquire at London, 'mongst the Taverns there:

For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose Companions
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow Lanes,
And rob our Watch, and beat our Passengers,
Which he, young, wanton, and effeminate Boy,
Takes on the point of Honour, to support
So dissolute a Crew.

Percy.
My Lord, some two Days since I saw the Prince,
And told him of these Triumphs held at Oxford.

Bulling.
And what said the Gallant?

Percy.
His answer was; he would unto the Stews,
And from the common'st Creature pluck a Glove
And wear it as a Favour, and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest Challenger.

Bulling.
As dissolute as desp'rate, yet through both
I see some sparks of better hope; which elder Days
May happily bring forth. But who comes here? Enter Aumerle.

Aum.
Where is the King?

Bulling.
What means our Cousin, that he stares
And looks so wildly?

Aum.
God save your Grace. I do beseech your Majesty
To have some conference with your Grace alone.

Bulling.
Withdraw your selves, and leave us here alone:
What is the matter with our Cousin now?

Aum.
For ever may my Knees grow to the Earth, [Kneels.
My Tongue cleave to my Roof within my Mouth,
Unless a Pardon, e'er I rise or speak.

Bulling.
Intended or committed was this Fault?
If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee,

Aum.
Then give me leave that I may turn the Key,
That no Man enter 'till the Tale be done.

Bulling.
Have thy desire. [York within.

York.
My Liege beware, look to thy self,
Thou hast a Traitor in thy Presence there.

Bulling.
Villain, I'll make thee safe.

Aum.
Stay thy revengeful Hand, thou hast no cause to fear.

York.
Open the Door, secure fool-hardy King:
Shall I for love speak Treason to thy Face?
Open the Door, or I will break it open.

Enter York.

Bulling.
What is the matter, Uncle, speak, recover breath,
Tell us how near is danger,
That we may arm us to encounter it.

York.
Peruse this Writing here, and thou shalt know
The reason that my haste forbids me show.

Aum.
Remember as thou read'st, thy Promise past:
I do repent me, read not my Name there,
My Heart is not confederate with my Hand.

York.
It was, Villain, e'er thy Hand did set it down.
I tore it from the Traitor's Bosom, King.
Fear, and not Love, begets his Penitence;
Forget to pity him, lest thy Pity prove
A Serpent, that will sting thee to the Heart.

Bulling.
Oh heinous, strong, and bold Conspiracy!
O loyal Father of a treacherous Son:
Thou sheer, immaculate, and Silver Fountain,
From whence this Stream, through muddy Passages
Hath had his Current, and defil'd himself.
Thy overflow of good, converts to bad,
And thine abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot, in thy digressing Son.

York.
So shall my Virtue be his Vice's Bawd,
And he shall spend mine Honour with his Shame;
As thriftless Sons their scraping Father's Gold.
Mine Honour lives when his Dishonour dies,
Or my sham'd Life in his Dishonour lyes:
Thou kill'st me in his Life, giving him breath,
The Traitor lives, the true Man's put to Death. [Dutchess within.

Dutch.
What ho, my Liege! for Heav'ns sake let me in.

Bulling.
What shrill-voic'd Suppliant makes this eager cry?

Dutch.
A Woman, and thine Aunt, great King, 'tis I.
Speak with me, pity me, open the Door,
A Beggar begs, that never begg'd before.

Bulling.
Our Scene is alter'd from a serious thing,
And now chang'd to the Beggar, and the King:
My dangerous Cousin, let your Mother in,
I know she's come to pray for your foul Sin.

York.
If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
More Sins for this forgiveness, prosper may,

This fester'd Joint cut off the rest rests sound,
This let alone, will all the rest confound. Enter Dutchess.

Dutch.
O King, believe not this hard-hearted Man,
Love, loving not it self, none other can.

York.
Thou frantick Woman, what dost thou do here?
Shall thy old Dugs once more a Traitor rear?

Dutch.
Sweet York be patient; hear me gentle Liege. [Kneels.

Bulling.
Rise up, good Aunt.

Dutch.
Not yet, I thee beseech;
For ever will I kneel upon my Knees,
And never see Day that the happy sees,
'Till thou give Joy, until thou bid me Joy,
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing Boy.

Aum.
Unto my Mother's Prayers, I bend my Knee. [Kneels.

York.
Against them both, my true Joints bended be. [Kneels.

Dutch.
Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his Face;
His Eyes do drop no Tears, his Prayers are in jest;
His Words come from his Mouth, ours from our Breasts:
He prays but faintly, and would be deny'd;
We pray with Heart and Soul, and all beside.
His weary Joints would gladly rise, I know;
Our Knees shall kneel, 'till to the Ground they grow.
His Prayers are full of false Hypocrisie,
Ours of true Zeal, and deep Integrity:
Our Prayers do out-pray his, then let them have
That Mercy, which true Prayers ought to have.

Bulling.
Good Aunt stand up.

Dutch.
Nay, do not say stand up,
But pardon first, and afterwards stand up.
And if I were thy Nurse, thy Tongue to teach,
Pardon should be the first Word of thy Speech.
I never long'd to hear a Word 'till now:
Say pardon, King, let pity teach thee how.
The Word is short, but not so short as sweet,
No Word like Pardon, for Kings Mouths so meet.

York.
Speak it in French, King, say Pardon'ne moy.

Dutch.
Dost thou teach Pardon, Pardon to destroy?
Ah my sowre Husband, my hard-hearted Lord,
That set'st the Word it self, against the Word.
Speak Pardon as 'tis currant in our Land,

The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine Eye begins to speak, set thy Tongue there;
Or in thy piteous Heart, plant thou thine Ear,
That hearing how our Plaints and Prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee, Pardon to rehearse.

Bulling.
Good Aunt stand up.

Dutch.
I do not sue to stand,
Pardon is all the Suit I have in hand.

Bulling.
I pardon him, as Heav'n shall pardon me.

Dutch.
O happy Vantage of a kneeling Knee;
Yet am I sick for Fear; speak it again,
Twice saying Pardon, doth not pardon twain,
But makes one Pardon strong.

Bulling.
I pardon him with all my Heart.

Dutch.
A God on Earth thou art.

Bulling.
But for our trusty Brother-in-law, the Abbot,
With all the rest of that consorted Crew,
Destruction streight shall dog them at the Heels.
Good Uncle help to order several Powers
To Oxford, or where-e'er these Traitors are:
They shall not live within this World, I swear,
But I will have them once know where.
Uncle farewel, and Cousin adieu;
Your Mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.

Dutch.
Come my old Son, I pray Heav'n make thee new. [Exeunt. Enter Exton and a Servant.

Exton.
Didst thou not mark the King what Words he spake?
Have I no Friend will rid me of this living Fear.
Was it not so?

Serv.
Those were his very Words.

Exton.
Have I no Friend? quoth he; he spake it twice,
And urg'd it twice together; did he not?

Serv.
He did.

Exton.
And speaking it, he wistly look'd on me,
As who shall say, I would thou wert the Man
That would divorce this Terror from my Heart;
Meaning the King at Pomfret. Come, let's go,
I am the King's Friend, and will rid his Foe. [Exeunt.

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