No More Learning

Methinks most men are but poor-hearted, else
Should we so doat on courage, were it commoner?
The Queen stands up, and speaks for her own self;
And all men cry, She is queenly, she is goodly.
Yet she's no goodlier; tho' my Lord Mayor here,
By his own rule, he hath been so bold to-day,
Should look more goodly than the rest of us.

WHITE. Goodly? I feel most goodly heart and hand,
And strong to throw ten Wyatts and all Kent.
Ha! ha! sir; but you jest; I love it: a jest
In time of danger shows the pulses even.
Be merry! yet, Sir Ralph, you look but sad.
I dare avouch you'd stand up for yourself,
Tho' all the world should bay like winter wolves.

BAGENHALL. Who knows? the man is proven by the hour.

WHITE. The man should make the hour, not this the man;
And Thomas White will prove this Thomas Wyatt,
And he will prove an Iden to this Cade,
And he will play the Walworth to this Wat;
Come, sirs, we prate; hence all--gather your men--
Myself must bustle. Wyatt comes to Southwark;
I'll have the drawbridge hewn into the Thames,
And see the citizens arm'd. Good day; good day.
[_Exit_ WHITE.

BAGENHALL. One of much outdoor bluster.

HOWARD. For all that,
Most honest, brave, and skilful; and his wealth
A fountain of perennial alms--his fault
So thoroughly to believe in his own self.

BAGENHALL. Yet thoroughly to believe in one's own self,
So one's own self be thorough, were to do
Great things, my Lord.

HOWARD. It may be.

BAGENHALL. I have heard
One of your Council fleer and jeer at him.

HOWARD. The nursery-cocker'd child will jeer at aught
That may seem strange beyond his nursery.
The statesman that shall jeer and fleer at men,
Makes enemies for himself and for his king;
And if he jeer not seeing the true man
Behind his folly, he is thrice the fool;
And if he see the man and still will jeer,
He is child and fool, and traitor to the State.
Who is he? let me shun him.

BAGENHALL. Nay, my Lord,
He is damn'd enough already.

HOWARD. I must set
The guard at Ludgate. Fare you well, Sir Ralph.

BAGENHALL. 'Who knows? ' I am for England. But who knows,
That knows the Queen, the Spaniard, and the Pope,
Whether I be for Wyatt, or the Queen?

[_Exeunt_.



SCENE III. --LONDON BRIDGE.


_Enter_ SIR THOMAS WYATT _and_ BRETT.

WYATT. Brett, when the Duke of Norfolk moved against us
Thou cried'st 'A Wyatt! ' and flying to our side
Left his all bare, for which I love thee, Brett.
Have for thine asking aught that I can give,
For thro' thine help we are come to London Bridge;
But how to cross it balks me. I fear we cannot.

BRETT. Nay, hardly, save by boat, swimming, or wings.

WYATT. Last night I climb'd into the gate-house, Brett,
And scared the gray old porter and his wife.
And then I crept along the gloom and saw
They had hewn the drawbridge down into the river.
It roll'd as black as death; and that same tide
Which, coming with our coming, seem'd to smile
And sparkle like our fortune as thou saidest,
Ran sunless down, and moan'd against the piers.
But o'er the chasm I saw Lord William Howard
By torchlight, and his guard; four guns gaped at me,
Black, silent mouths: had Howard spied me there
And made them speak, as well he might have done,
Their voice had left me none to tell you this.
What shall we do?

BRETT. On somehow. To go back
Were to lose all.

WYATT. On over London Bridge
We cannot: stay we cannot; there is ordnance
On the White Tower and on the Devil's Tower,
And pointed full at Southwark; we must round
By Kingston Bridge.

BRETT. Ten miles about.

WYATT. Ev'n so.
But I have notice from our partisans
Within the city that they will stand by us
If Ludgate can be reach'd by dawn to-morrow.

_Enter one of_ WYATT'S MEN.

MAN. Sir Thomas, I've found this paper; pray
your worship read it; I know not my letters; the old
priests taught me nothing.

WYATT (_reads_). 'Whosoever will apprehend the traitor Thomas Wyatt
shall have a hundred pounds for reward. '

MAN. Is that it? That's a big lot of money.

WYATT. Ay, ay, my friend; not read it? 'tis not written
Half plain enough. Give me a piece of paper!
[_Writes 'THOMAS WYATT' large_.
There, any man can read that. [_Sticks it in his cap_.

BRETT. But that's foolhardy.

WYATT. No! boldness, which will give my followers boldness.

_Enter_ MAN _with a prisoner_.

MAN. We found him, your worship, a plundering o' Bishop Winchester's
house; he says he's a poor gentleman.

WYATT. Gentleman! a thief! Go hang him. Shall we make
Those that we come to serve our sharpest foes?

BRETT. Sir Thomas--

WYATT. Hang him, I say.

BRETT. Wyatt, but now you promised me a boon.

WYATT. Ay, and I warrant this fine fellow's life.

BRETT. Ev'n so; he was my neighbour once in Kent.
He's poor enough, has drunk and gambled out
All that he had, and gentleman he was.
We have been glad together; let him live.

WYATT. He has gambled for his life, and lost, he hangs.
No, no, my word's my word. Take thy poor gentleman!
Gamble thyself at once out of my sight,
Or I will dig thee with my dagger. Away!
Women and children!

_Enter a Crowd of_ WOMEN _and_ CHILDREN.

FIRST WOMAN. O Sir Thomas, Sir Thomas, pray you go away, Sir Thomas,
or you'll make the White Tower a black 'un for us this blessed day.
He'll be the death on us; and you'll set the Divil's Tower a-spitting,
and he'll smash all our bits o' things worse than Philip o' Spain.

SECOND WOMAN. Don't ye now go to think that we be for Philip o' Spain.

THIRD WOMAN. No, we know that ye be come to kill the Queen, and we'll
pray for you all on our bended knees. But o' God's mercy don't ye kill
the Queen here, Sir Thomas; look ye, here's little Dickon, and little
Robin, and little Jenny--though she's but a side-cousin--and all on
our knees, we pray you to kill the Queen further off, Sir Thomas.

WYATT. My friends, I have not come to kill the Queen
Or here or there: I come to save you all,
And I'll go further off.

CROWD. Thanks, Sir Thomas, we be beholden to you, and we'll pray for
you on our bended knees till our lives' end.

WYATT. Be happy, I am your friend. To Kingston, forward!

[_Exeunt_.



SCENE IV. --ROOM IN THE GATEHOUSE OF WESTMINSTER PALACE.

MARY, ALICE, GARDINER, RENARD, LADIES.


GARDINER. Their cry is, Philip never shall be king.

MARY. Lord Pembroke in command of all our force
Will front their cry and shatter them into dust.

ALICE. Was not Lord Pembroke with Northumberland?
O madam, if this Pembroke should be false?

MARY. No, girl; most brave and loyal, brave and loyal.
His breaking with Northumberland broke Northumberland.
At the park gate he hovers with our guards.
These Kentish ploughmen cannot break the guards.

_Enter_ MESSENGER.

MESSENGER. Wyatt, your Grace, hath broken thro' the guards
And gone to Ludgate.

GARDINER. Madam, I much fear
That all is lost; but we can save your Grace.
The river still is free. I do beseech you,
There yet is time, take boat and pass to Windsor.

MARY. I pass to Windsor and I lose my crown.

GARDINER. Pass, then, I pray your Highness, to the Tower.

MARY. I shall but be their prisoner in the Tower.

CRIES _without_. The traitor! treason! Pembroke!

LADIES. Treason! treason!

MARY. Peace.
False to Northumberland, is he false to me?
Bear witness, Renard, that I live and die
The true and faithful bride of Philip--A sound
Of feet and voices thickening hither--blows--
Hark, there is battle at the palace gates,
And I will out upon the gallery.

LADIES. No, no, your Grace; see there the arrows flying.

MARY. I am Harry's daughter, Tudor, and not fear.
[_Goes out on the gallery_.
The guards are all driven in, skulk into corners
Like rabbits to their holes. A gracious guard
Truly; shame on them! they have shut the gates!

_Enter_ SIR ROBERT SOUTHWELL.

SOUTHWELL. The porter, please your Grace, hath shut the gates
On friend and foe. Your gentlemen-at-arms,
If this be not your Grace's order, cry
To have the gates set wide again, and they
With their good battleaxes will do you right
Against all traitors.

MARY. They are the flower of England; set the gates wide.

[_Exit_ SOUTHWELL.

_Enter_ COURTENAY.

COURTENAY. All lost, all lost, all yielded! A barge, a barge!
The Queen must to the Tower.

MARY. Whence come you, sir?

COURTENAY. From Charing Cross; the rebels broke us there,
And I sped hither with what haste I might
To save my royal cousin.

MARY. Where is Pembroke?

COURTENAY.
I left him somewhere in the thick of it.

MARY. Left him and fled; and thou that would'st be King,
And hast nor heart nor honour. I myself
Will down into the battle and there bide
The upshot of my quarrel, or die with those
That are no cowards and no Courtenays.

COURTENAY. I do not love your Grace should call me coward.

_Enter another_ MESSENGER.

MESSENGER. Over, your Grace, all crush'd; the brave Lord William
Thrust him from Ludgate, and the traitor flying
To Temple Bar, there by Sir Maurice Berkeley
Was taken prisoner.

MARY. To the Tower with _him_!

MESSENGER. 'Tis said he told Sir Maurice there was one
Cognisant of this, and party thereunto,
My Lord of Devon.

MARY. To the Tower with _him_!

COURTENAY. O la, the Tower, the Tower, always the Tower,
I shall grow into it--I shall be the Tower.

MARY. Your Lordship may not have so long to wait. Remove him!

COURTENAY. La, to whistle out my life,
And carve my coat upon the walls again!
[_Exit_ COURTENAY _guarded_.

MESSENGER. Also this Wyatt did confess the Princess
Cognisant thereof, and party thereunto.

MARY. What? whom--whom did you say?

MESSENGER. Elizabeth,
Your Royal sister.

MARY. To the Tower with _her_!
My foes are at my feet and I am Queen.

[GARDINER _and her_ LADIES _kneel to her_.

GARDINER (_rising_).
There let them lie, your foot-stool! (_Aside_. ) Can I strike
Elizabeth? --not now and save the life
Of Devon: if I save him, he and his
Are bound to me--may strike hereafter. (_Aloud_. ) Madam,
What Wyatt said, or what they said he said,
Cries of the moment and the street--

MARY. He said it.

GARDINER. Your courts of justice will determine that.

RENARD (_advancing_).
I trust by this your Highness will allow
Some spice of wisdom in my telling you,
When last we talk'd, that Philip would not come
Till Guildford Dudley and the Duke of Suffolk,
And Lady Jane had left us.

MARY. They shall die.

RENARD. And your so loving sister?

MARY. She shall die.
My foes are at my feet, and Philip King.

[_Exeunt_.




ACT III.



SCENE I. --THE CONDUIT IN GRACECHURCH,

_Painted with the Nine Worthies, among them King Henry VIII. holding a
book, on it inscribed_ 'Verbum Dei'.


_Enter_ SIR RALPH BAGENHALL _and_ SIR THOMAS STAFFORD.

BAGENHALL. A hundred here and hundreds hang'd in Kent.
The tigress had unsheath'd her nails at last,
And Renard and the Chancellor sharpen'd them.
In every London street a gibbet stood.
They are down to-day. Here by this house was one;
The traitor husband dangled at the door,
And when the traitor wife came out for bread
To still the petty treason therewithin,
Her cap would brush his heels.

STAFFORD. It is Sir Ralph,
And muttering to himself as heretofore.
Sir, see you aught up yonder?

BAGENHALL. I miss something.
The tree that only bears dead fruit is gone.

STAFFORD. What tree, sir?

BAGENHALL. Well, the tree in Virgil, sir,
That bears not its own apples.

STAFFORD. What! the gallows?

BAGENHALL. Sir, this dead fruit was ripening overmuch,
And had to be removed lest living Spain
Should sicken at dead England.

STAFFORD. Not so dead,
But that a shock may rouse her.

BAGENHALL. I believe
Sir Thomas Stafford?

STAFFORD. I am ill disguised.

BAGENHALL. Well, are you not in peril here?

STAFFORD. I think so.
I came to feel the pulse of England, whether
It beats hard at this marriage. Did you see it?

BAGENHALL. Stafford, I am a sad man and a serious.
Far liefer had I in my country hall
Been reading some old book, with mine old hound
Couch'd at my hearth, and mine old flask of wine
Beside me, than have seen it: yet I saw it.

STAFFORD. Good, was it splendid?

BAGENHALL. Ay, if Dukes, and Earls,
And Counts, and sixty Spanish cavaliers,
Some six or seven Bishops, diamonds, pearls,
That royal commonplace too, cloth of gold,
Could make it so.

STAFFORD. And what was Mary's dress?

BAGENHALL. Good faith, I was too sorry for the woman
To mark the dress. She wore red shoes!

STAFFORD. Red shoes!

BAGENHALL. Scarlet, as if her feet were wash'd in blood,
As if she had waded in it.

STAFFORD. Were your eyes
So bashful that you look'd no higher?

BAGENHALL. A diamond,
And Philip's gift, as proof of Philip's love,
Who hath not any for any,--tho' a true one,
Blazed false upon her heart.

STAFFORD. But this proud Prince--

BAGENHALL. Nay, he is King, you know, the King of Naples.
The father ceded Naples, that the son
Being a King, might wed a Queen--O he
Flamed in brocade--white satin his trunk-hose,
Inwrought with silver,--on his neck a collar,
Gold, thick with diamonds; hanging down from this
The Golden Fleece--and round his knee, misplaced,
Our English Garter, studded with great emeralds,
Rubies, I know not what. Have you had enough
Of all this gear?

STAFFORD. Ay, since you hate the telling it.
How look'd the Queen?

BAGENHALL. No fairer for her jewels.
And I could see that as the new-made couple
Came from the Minster, moving side by side
Beneath one canopy, ever and anon
She cast on him a vassal smile of love,
Which Philip with a glance of some distaste,
Or so methought, return'd. I may be wrong, sir.
This marriage will not hold.

STAFFORD. I think with you.
The King of France will help to break it.

BAGENHALL. France!
We have once had half of France, and hurl'd our battles
Into the heart of Spain; but England now
Is but a ball chuck'd between France and Spain,
His in whose hand she drops; Harry of Bolingbroke
Had holpen Richard's tottering throne to stand,
Could Harry have foreseen that all our nobles
Would perish on the civil slaughter-field,
And leave the people naked to the crown,
And the crown naked to the people; the crown
Female, too! Sir, no woman's regimen
Can save us. We are fallen, and as I think,
Never to rise again.

STAFFORD. You are too black-blooded.
I'd make a move myself to hinder that:
I know some lusty fellows there in France.

BAGENHALL. You would but make us weaker, Thomas Stafford.
Wyatt was a good soldier, yet he fail'd,
And strengthen'd Philip.

STAFFORD. Did not his last breath
Clear Courtenay and the Princess from the charge
Of being his co-rebels?

BAGENHALL. Ay, but then
What such a one as Wyatt says is nothing:
We have no men among us. The new Lords
Are quieted with their sop of Abbeylands,
And ev'n before the Queen's face Gardiner buys them
With Philip's gold. All greed, no faith, no courage!
Why, ev'n the haughty prince, Northumberland,
The leader of our Reformation, knelt
And blubber'd like a lad, and on the scaffold
Recanted, and resold himself to Rome.

STAFFORD. I swear you do your country wrong, Sir Ralph.
I know a set of exiles over there,
Dare-devils, that would eat fire and spit it out
At Philip's beard: they pillage Spain already.
The French King winks at it. An hour will come
When they will sweep her from the seas. No men?
Did not Lord Suffolk die like a true man?
Is not Lord William Howard a true man?
Yea, you yourself, altho' you are black-blooded:
And I, by God, believe myself a man.
Ay, even in the church there is a man--
Cranmer.
Fly would he not, when all men bad him fly.
And what a letter he wrote against the Pope!
There's a brave man, if any.

BAGENHALL. Ay; if it hold.

CROWD (_coming on_).
God save their Graces!

STAFFORD. Bagenhall, I see
The Tudor green and white. (_Trumpets_. ) They are coming now.
And here's a crowd as thick as herring-shoals.

BAGENHALL. Be limpets to this pillar, or we are torn
Down the strong wave of brawlers.

CROWD. God save their Graces!

[_Procession of Trumpeters, Javelin-men, etc. ; then
Spanish and Flemish Nobles intermingled_.

STAFFORD. Worth seeing, Bagenhall! These black dog-Dons
Garb themselves bravely. Who's the long-face there,
Looks very Spain of very Spain?

BAGENHALL. The Duke
Of Alva, an iron soldier.

STAFFORD. And the Dutchman,
Now laughing at some jest?

BAGENHALL. William of Orange,
William the Silent.

STAFFORD. Why do they call him so?

BAGENHALL. He keeps, they say, some secret that may cost
Philip his life.

STAFFORD. But then he looks so merry.

BAGENHALL. I cannot tell you why they call him so.

[_The_ KING _and_ QUEEN _pass, attended by Peers of
the Realm, Officers of State, etc. Cannon shot off_.

CROWD. Philip and Mary, Philip and Mary!
Long live the King and Queen, Philip and Mary!

STAFFORD. They smile as if content with one another.

BAGENHALL. A smile abroad is oft a scowl at home.