DRAMATIC LITERATURE. 633 



the Duke of Norfolk, is also well discriminated, and the subordinate 

 characters, Sir Thomas Wyatt, the Earl of Surrey, and Rochford, the 

 Queen's brother, have each a separate and marked idiosyncracy. But 

 we will make a few extracts, which will at once justify our praise, 

 and set our author in a true light with the reader : 



Enter Rochford and Wyatt. 



Anne. Brother, Sir Thomas, welcome. 



Roch. Madam, we bring ye news. 



Anne. All news shall pleasure from so dear a tongue 

 Whatis't? 



Rochf. The Princess Catherine is dead. 



Anne. Catherine no more the princess dowager dead ! 

 Now am I queen of England past recall ! 

 Already lighter on my enlarg'd brow, 

 And full securely rests my well-lov'd crown. 

 My own excellent friends, a weight of woe 

 Unspeakable is lifted from my brain 

 My heart shall ever thank you for this message ! 



Wyatt. 'Twere hard indeed to tell how much it glads us 

 To find your grace, and fortune so complacent. 



Anne. While that ill-sorted one had breath, tho' spurn'd, 

 There was a void in all my spirit compass'd 

 Power insufficient pleasure incomplete 

 Consistent evil 'twixt me and the sun 

 Horriby interven'd, and cast huge shapes, 

 Blackening with anarchy my involv'd dower ; 

 But, they are fled, bless'd Heaven ! and I am queen ! 

 Give joy, my brother, all is here confirm'd, 

 And every virtue of a lustrous rule, 

 From this hour takes new tides and gladly flows. 



Rochf. Auspicious angels, make the wish prophetic ! 

 May every image of romantic bliss 

 Thy shining youth enthusiastic drew, 

 Spring to reality for thy content ; 

 Stamp glory no illusion to thy state, 

 But justify the confidence of welfare 

 A struggling age reposes in thy hopes ! 



Wyatt. Heaven send this may be ! 



Anne. It shall, kind Wyatt : 

 We shall win to us each deserving friend, 

 Reach forth an earnest welcome to all comers, 

 Appease the murmurer, the sufferer heal, 

 Reign in his grace's, and our people's hearts, 

 And gather a blest homage round the isle. 



(Enter Henry, with a letter in his hand.) 



Welcome, my liege how generous to come to us ! 



Henry. Ha ! ha ! what voice exulting, have we here 

 Has it not reach'd ye, we've sore cause to mourn ? 



Anne. My dear, dread lord ! 



Henry. Have ye not heard, madam, 

 Our noble Lady Catharine lives not? 



Anne. Even as your grace had enter'd 'twas announc'd. 



Henry. Aye, dame, and ye were rioting thereat. 



Anne. We gave Heaven thanks for our, security. 



