Beggars Bush | Page 2

me Without a farewel, Hubert? flie a friend Unwearied in his study to advance you? What have I e're possess'd which was not yours? Or either did not court you to command it? Who ever yet arriv'd to any grace, Reward or trust from me, but his approaches Were by your fair reports of him prefer'd? And what is more I made my self your Servant, In making you the Master of those secrets Which not the rack of Conscience could draw from me, Nor I, when I askt mercy, trust my prayers with; Yet after these assurances of love, These tyes and bonds of friendship, to forsake me? Forsake me as an enemy? come you must Give me a reason.
Hub. Sir, and so I will, If I may do't in private: and you hear it.
Wol. All leave the room: you have your will, sit down And use the liberty of our first friendship.
Hub. Friendship? when you prov'd Traitor first, that vanish'd, Nor do I owe you any thought, but hate, I know my flight hath forfeited my head; And so I may make you first understand What a strange monster you have made your self, I welcome it.
Wol. To me this is strange language.
Hub. To you? why what are you?
Wol. Your Prince and Master, The Earl of Flanders.
Hub. By a proper title! Rais'd to it by cunning, circumvention, force, Blood, and proscriptions.
Wol. And in all this wisdom, Had I not reason? when by Gerrards plots I should have first been call'd to a strict accompt How, and which way I had consum'd that mass Of money, as they term it, in the War, Who underhand had by his Ministers Detracted my great action, made my faith And loyalty suspected, in which failing He sought my life by practice.
Hub. With what fore-head Do you speak this to me? who (as I know't) Must, and will say 'tis false.
Wol. My Guard there.
Hub. Sir, you bad me sit, and promis'd you would hear, Which I now say you shall; not a sound more, For I that am contemner of mine own, Am Master of your life; then here's a Sword Between you, and all aids, Sir, though you blind The credulous beast, the multitude, you pass not These gross untruths on me.
Wol. How? gross untruths?
Hub. I, and it is favourable language, They had been in a mean man lyes, and foul ones.
Wol. You take strange Licence.
Hub. Yes, were not those rumours Of being called unto your answer, spread By your own followers? and weak Gerrard wrought (But by your cunning practice) to believe That you were dangerous; yet not to be Punish'd by any formal course of Law, But first to be made sure, and have your crimes Laid open after, which your quaint train taking You fled unto the Camp, and [there] crav'd humbly Protection for your innocent life, and that, Since you had scap'd the fury of the War, You might not fall by treason: and for proof, You did not for your own ends make this danger; Some that had been before by you suborn'd, Came forth and took their Oaths they had been hir'd By Gerrard to your Murther. This once heard, And easily believ'd, th'inraged Souldier Seeing no further than the outward-man, Snatch'd hastily his Arms, ran to the Court, Kill'd all that made resistance, cut in pieces Such as were Servants, or thought friends to Gerrard, Vowing the like to him.
Wol. Will you yet end?
Hub. Which he foreseeing, with his Son, the Earl, Forsook the City; and by secret wayes As you give out, and we would gladly have it, Escap'd their fury: though 'tis more than fear'd They fell amongst the rest; Nor stand you there To let us only mourn the impious means By which you got it, but your cruelties since So far transcend your former bloody ills, As if compar'd, they only would appear Essays of mischief; do not stop your ears, More are behind yet.
Wol. O repeat them not, 'Tis Hell to hear them nam'd.
Hub. You should have thought, That Hell would be your punishment when you did them, A Prince in nothing but your princely lusts, And boundless rapines.
Wol. No more I beseech you.
Hub. Who was the Lord of house or land, that stood Within the prospect of your covetous eye?
Wol. You are in this to me a greater Tyrant, Than e're I was to any.
Hub. I end thus The general grief: now to my private wrong; The loss of Gerrards Daughter Jaqueline: The hop'd for partner of my lawful Bed, Your cruelty hath frighted from mine arms; And her I now was wandring to recover. Think you that I had reason now to leave you, When you are grown so justly odious, That ev'n my stay here with your