'They shall be childless.' True, Mary was born, But France would not accept her for a bride As being born from incest; and this wrought Upon the king; and child by child, you know, Were momentary sparkles out as quick Almost as kindled; and he brought his doubts And fears to me. Peter, I'll swear for him He did believe the bond incestuous. But wherefore am I trenching on the time That should already have seen your steps a mile From me and Lambeth? God be with you! Go. Peter Martyr. Ah, but how fierce a letter you wrote against Roger. Ay, that am I, new converted, but the old leaven sticks to my tongue yet. First Citizen. He says right; by the mass we'll have no mass here. Voices of the crowd. Peace! hear him ; let his own words damn the Papist. From thine own mouth I judge thee-tear him down! Bourne. and since our Gracious Queen, let me call her our second Virgin Mary, hath begun to re-edify the true temple First Citizen. Virgin Mary! we'll have no virgins here-we'll have the Lady Elizabeth! [Swords are drawn, a knife is hurled and sticks in the pulpit. The mob throng to the pulpit stairs. Marchioness of Exeter. Son Courtenay, wilt thou see the holy father Murder'd before thy face? up, son, and save him! They love thee, and thou canst not come to harm. Courtenay (in the pulpit). Shame, shame, my masters! are you Eng. lish-born, And set yourselves by hundreds against one? Crowd. A Courtenay! a Courtenay! Stave off the crowd upon the Spaniard there. Roger. My masters, yonder's fatter game for you Than this old gaping gurgoyle: look you there The Prince of Spain coming to wed our Queen! Is both my foe and yours: we should be friends. Elisabeth. My Lord, the hatred of Is no true bond of friendship. Might it not loosed from out the Tower, Where, like a butterfly in a chrysalis, You spent your life; that broken, out you flutter Thro' the new world, go zigzag, now would settle Upon this flower, now that; but all things here At court are known; you have solicited The Queen, and been rejected. |