Languages & literature > Albion queens, or, The death of Mary Queen of Scots

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THE ALBION QUEENS.
‘ Scarce blefs’d his joyful mother, for her labour,
* With his infant beams; but yvas by villains,
‘ Like little Romulus, from this bofom torn,
‘ And nurs’d with wolves. Wherefore, my deareft friends,’
My faithful, fuffering, mourning, weeping fervants !
Your Queen, your miftrefs, drinks to every one ;
And all revenge and malice bury’d be
In this kind bowl, as is this wine in me.
[Drinks, all kneel.
DcrM. Give me the cup Here’s to our miftrefs;
[Turns about, pits poifon in the cup, and drinks.
And to her health of immortality,
And mine. Behold, they come to fetch you.
T>u. M. They are welcome——
Enter Cecil, Morton, Lieutenant of the Towert and
Guards.
My Lord, I have expefted you with joy :
You find me like a chearful, longing bride :
Come, and conduct me to my bridegroom, Death.
Cec. Alas, I muft!
M. Bring you no meflage from the Queen ?
Nor word of farewel to her dying coufin ?
Ccc. Something Ihe would have faid, but burft in tears j
While with a groan her tortur’d fpeech expir’d,
And only cry’d, Oh, Mary! and no more.
Mor. Madam, I kneel, in hopes of your forgivenefs.
Qu. M. Thou’ft done no ill to me, but as thy nature:
A wolf can do but as a wolf thou haft it.
Tho’ Heaven thy horrid crimes may ne’er forget;
But let my fon revenge his father’s murder,
Which thou too furely didft, and laidft the ftain on me.
Enter Davifon in haftc.
Dav. I have ftrange and fudden news to tell you ;
Juft now’s arriv’d from Scotland Patrick Grey,
With letters to the Queen, which have difturb’d her;
But more, my Lord, ftiefeems incens’d at you. [Tv Mor.
I wifh this execution had been done,
Or not to do.
Cec. We are gone too far already,
To think of going back.
Dav. Room for the Queen !
F
Madam,