A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Viii Part 26

PRIOR. John is incens'd; and very much, I doubt, That villain Warman hath accused me About the 'scape of Ely. Well, suppose he have, What's that to me? I am a clergyman, And all his power, if he all extend, Cannot prevail against my holy order.

But the Archbishop's grace is now his friend, And may, perchance, attempt to do me ill.

_Enter a_ SERVING-MAN.

What news with you, sir?

SERV.-MAN. Even heavy news, my lord; for the lightning's[213] fire, Falling in manner of a firedrake[214]

Upon a barn of yours, hath burnt six barns, And not a strike of corn reserv'd from dust.

No hand could save it, yet ten thousand hands Laboured their best, though none for love of you; For every tongue with bitter cursing bann'd Your lords.h.i.+p, as the viper of the land.

PRIOR. What meant the villains?

SERV.-MAN. Thus and thus they cried: Upon this churl, this h.o.a.rder-up of corn, This spoiler of the Earl of Huntington, This l.u.s.t-defiled, merciless, false prior, Heaven raineth vengeance down in shape of fire.

Old wives, that scarce could with their crutches creep, And little babes, that newly learn'd to speak, Men masterless, that thorough want did weep, All in one voice, with a confused cry, In execrations bann'd you bitterly: Plague follow plague, they cry: he hath undone The good Lord Robert, Earl of Huntington.

And then--

PRIOR.[215] What then, thou villain? Get thee from my sight!

They that wish plagues, plagues will upon them light.

_Enter another_ SERVANT.

PRIOR. What are your tidings?

SERV. The convent of St Mary's are agreed, And have elected in your lords.h.i.+p's place Old father Jerome, who is stall'd Lord Prior By the new Archbishop.

PRIOR. Of York, thou mean'st?

A vengeance on him! he is my hope's foe.

_Enter a_ HERALD.

HER. Gilbert de Hood, late Prior of Saint Mary's, Our sovereign John commandeth thee by me, That presently thou leave this blessed land, Defiled with the burthen of thy sin.

All thy goods temporal and spiritual, With free consent of Hubert Lord [of] York, Primate of England and thy ordinary, He hath suspended, and vowed by heaven To hang thee up, if thou depart not hence Without delaying or more question.

And that he hath good reason for the same, He sends this writing 'firm'd with Warman's hand, And comes himself; whose presence if thou stay, I fear this sun will see thy dying day.

PRIOR. O, Warman hath betray'd me! woe is me!

_Enter_ JOHN, QUEEN, CHESTER, SALISBURY.

JOHN. Hence with that Prior! sirrah, do not speak: My eyes are full of wrath, my heart of wreak.[216]

Let Leicester come: his haught heart, I am sure, Will check the kingly course we undertake.

[_Exeunt c.u.m_ PRIOR.

_Enter_ LEICESTER, _drum and ancient_.

JOHN. Welcome from war, thrice n.o.ble Earl of Leicester, Unto our court: welcome, most valiant earl.

LEI. Your court in England, and King Richard gone!

A king in England, and the king from home!

This sight and salutations are so strange, That what I should I know not how to speak.

JOHN. What would you say? speak boldly, we entreat.

LEI. It is not fear, but wonder, bars my speech.

I muse to see a mother and a queen, Two peers so great as Salisbury and Chester, Sit and support proud usurpation, And see King Richard's crown worn by Earl John.

QUEEN. He sits as viceroy and a[s] subst.i.tute.

CHES. He must and shall resign, when Richard comes.

SAL. Chester, he will, without your must and shall.

LEI. Whether he will or no, he shall resign.

JOHN. You know your own will, Leicester, but not mine.

LEI. Tell me among ye, where is reverend Ely, Left by our dread king as his deputy?

JOHN. Banish'd he is, as proud usurpers should.

LEI. Pride then, belike, was enemy to pride: Ambition in yourself his state envied.

Where is Fitzwater, that old honour'd lord?

JOHN. Dishonour'd and exil'd, as Ely is.

LEI. Exil'd he may be, but dishonour'd never!

He was a fearless soldier and a virtuous scholar.

But where is Huntington, that n.o.ble youth?

CHES. Undone by riot.

LEI. Ah! the greater ruth.

JOHN. Leicester, you question more than doth become you.

On to the purpose, why you come to us.

LEI. I come to Ely and to all the state, Sent by the king, who three times sent before To have his ransom brought to Austria: And if you be elected deputy, Do as you ought, and send the ransom-money.

JOHN. Leicester, you see I am no deputy; And Richard's ransom if you do require, Thus we make answer: Richard is a king, In Cyprus, Acon, Acre, and rich Palestine.

To get those kingdoms England lent him men, And many a million of her substance spent, The very entrails of her womb were rent: No plough but paid a share, no needy hand, But from his poor estate of penury Unto his voyage offer'd more than mites, And more, poor souls, than they had might to spare.

Yet were they joyful; for still flying news-- And lying I perceive them now to be-- Came of King Richard's glorious victories, His conquest of the Soldan,[217] and such tales As blew them up with hope, when he return'd, He would have scatter'd gold about the streets.

LEI. Do princes fight for gold? O leaden thought!

Your father knew that honour was the aim Kings level at. By sweet St John, I swear, You urge me so, that I cannot forbear.

What do you tell of money lent the king, When first he went into this holy war, As if he had extorted from the poor, When you, the queen, and all that hear me speak, Know with what zeal the people gave their goods.

Old wives took silver buckles from their belts; Young maids the gilt pins that tuck'd up their trains; Children their pretty whistles from their necks, And every man what he did most esteem, Crying to soldiers, "Wear these gifts of ours."

This proves that Richard had no need to wrong, Or force the people, that with willing hearts Gave more than was desir'd. And where you say, You [do] guess Richard's victories but lies, I swear he wan rich Cyprus with his sword; And thence, more glorious than the guide of Greece, That brought so huge a fleet to Tenedos, He sail'd along the Mediterran sea, Where on a sunbright morning he did meet The warlike Soldan's[218] well-prepared fleet.

O, still, methinks, I see King Richard stand In his gilt armour stain'd with Pagan's blood, Upon a galley's prow, like war's fierce G.o.d, And on his crest a crucifix of gold!

O, that day's honour can be never told!