CHARLES THE FIRST. FRAGMENTS. ACT I. SCENE I. The Pageant to [celebrate] the arrival of the Queen. A PURSUIVANT. PLACE, for the Marshal of the Masque! FIRST SPEAKER. What thinkest thou of this quaint masque, which turns, Like morning from the shadow of the night, The night to day, and London to a place Of peace and joy? SECOND SPEAKER. And Hell to Heaven, Eight years are gone, And they seem hours, since in this populous street The roots will be refreshed with civil blood; THIRD SPEAKER (a youth). Yet, father, tis a happy sight to see, By God or man;-'tis like the bright procession From which men wake as from a paradise, And draw new strength to tread the thorns of life. Which bloom so rarely in this barren world? O, kill these bitter thoughts which make the present Dark as the future! When avarice and tyranny, vigilant fear, And open-eyed conspiracy lie sleeping As on Hell's threshold; and all gentle thoughts With his own gift. SECOND SPEAKER. How young art thou in this old age of time! How green in this grey world! Canst thou not think Of change in that low scene, in which thou art The day that dawns in fire will die in storms, Even though the noon be calm. My travel's done; Before the whirlwind wakes I shall have found My inn of lasting rest, but thou must still FIRST SPEAKER. That Is the Archbishop. SECOND SPEAKER. Rather say the Pope. London will be soon his Rome: he walks He looks elate, drunken with blood and gold;- Which turns Heaven's milk of mercy to revenge. ANOTHER CITIZEN (lifting up his eyes). Good Lord! rain it down upon him. [ Amid her ladies walks the papist queen, As if her nice feet scorned our English earth. There's old Sir Henry Vane, the Earl of Pembroke, Lord Essex, and Lord Keeper Coventry, And others who make base their English breed By vile participation of their honours With papists, atheists, tyrants, and apostates. FOURTH SPEAKER (a pursuivant) Give place, give place! You torch-bearers advance to the great gate, FIFTH SPEAKER (a law student). "What thinkest thou Of this quaint show of ours, my aged friend? FIRST SPEAKER. I will not think but that our country's wounds SECOND SPEAKER. As adders cast their skins And keep their venom, so kings often change; Like the base patchwork of a leper's rags. THIRD SPEAKER. O, still those dissonant thoughts-List! loud music Grows on the enchanted air! And see, the torches Restlessly flashing, and the crowd divided Like waves before an Admiral's prow. * Give place ANOTHER SPEAKER. To the Marshal of the Masque! THIRD SPEAKER. How glorious! See those thronging chariots Like curved shells dyed by the azure depths The Capitolian-See how gloriously The mettled horses in the torchlight stir Their gallant riders, while they check their pride, Like shapes of some diviner element! SECOND SPEAKER. Aye, there they are— Nobles, and sons of nobles, patentees, SPEAKER. 'Tis but R |