Jane Shore Part 4

_Jane S._ 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 seem'd dispos'd; 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 n.o.bles shook the land With York and Lancaster's disputed sway.

Your virtue there may find a safe retreat From the insulting pow'rs of wicked greatness.

_Jane S._ 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, E'er the clouds gather, and the wintry sky Descends in storms to intercept our pa.s.sage.

_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.

O 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 flow'ry 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 more; Warbling, she charms it each returning night, And loves it with a mother's dear delight. [_exeunt._

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I. THE COURT.

_Enter Alicia, with a paper._

_Alic._ This paper to the great protector's hand With care and secresy must be convey'd: 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 friends.h.i.+p, 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, Loath that known face, and sicken to behold her.

_Enter Jane Sh.o.r.e._

_Jane S._ O my Alicia!

_Alic._ What new grief is this?

What unforeseen misfortune has surpris'd thee, That racks thy tender heart thus?

_Jane S._ O Dumont!

_Alic._ Say, what of him?

_Jane S._ That friendly, honest, man, Whom Belmour brought of late to my a.s.sistance, On whose kind care, whose diligence and faith, My surest trust was built, this very morn Was seiz'd on by the cruel hand of power, Forc'd from my house, and borne away to prison.

_Alic._ To prison, said you? can you guess the cause?

_Jane S._ Too well, I fear. His bold defence of me Has drawn the vengeance of lord Hastings on him.

_Alic._ Lord Hastings! ha!

_Jane S._ Some fitter time must tell thee The tale of my hard hap. Upon the present Hang all my poor, my last remaining, hopes.

Within this paper is my suit contain'd; Here, as the princely Gloster pa.s.ses forth, I wait to give it on my humble knees, And move him for redress.

[_she gives the paper to Alicia, who opens and seems to read it._

_Alic._ Now for a wile, To sting my thoughtless rival to the heart; To blast her fatal beauties, and divide her For ever from my perjur'd Hastings' eyes: Their fas.h.i.+ons are the same, it cannot fail.

[_aside: pulling out the other paper._

_Jane S._ But see, the great protector comes this way.

Give me the paper, friend.

_Alic._ For love and vengeance!

[_aside: she gives her the other paper._

_Enter the Duke of Gloster, Sir Richard Ratcliffe, Catesby, courtiers, and other attendants._

_Jane S._ [_kneeling_] O n.o.ble Gloster, turn thy gracious eye, Incline thy pitying ear to my complaint; A poor, undone, forsaken, helpless, woman, Entreats a little bread for charity, To feed her wants, and save her life from peris.h.i.+ng.

_Glos._ Arise, fair dame, and dry your wat'ry 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've got a n.o.ble 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 dispatch'd, we'll call for you anon, And give your griefs redress. Go to! be comforted.

_Jane S._ Good heav'ns repay your highness for this pity, And show'r 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 Jane S. and Alic._

_Glos._ 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 s.h.i.+ver 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 inclin'd to call you master, And kneel to Richard as to England's king; But Sh.o.r.e'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 on you.'

_Sir R._ 'Tis wonderful!

_Cates._ The means by which it came Yet stranger too!

_Glos._ You saw it giv'n, but now.

_Sir R._ She could not know the purport.

_Glos._ 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.

_Cates._ What hand soe'er it comes from, be a.s.sur'd, It means your highness well----

_Glos._ Upon the instant, Lord Hastings will be here; this morn I mean To 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._

_Enter Lord Hastings._

_Lord H._ This foolish woman hangs about my heart, Lingers and wanders in my fancy still; This coyness is put on, 'tis art and cunning, And worn to urge desire----I must possess her.

The groom, who lift his saucy hand against me, E'er this, is humbled, and repents his daring.

Perhaps, ev'n she may profit by th' example, And teach her beauty not to scorn my pow'r.