Room in the Gatehouse of Westminster Palace
MARY, ALICE, GARDINER, RENARD, LADIES.
Their cry is, Philip never shall be king.
Lord Pembroke in command of all our force
Will front their cry and shatter them into dust.
Was not Lord Pembroke with Northumberland?
O madam, if this Pembroke should be false?
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.
Wyatt, your Grace, hath broken thro’ the guards
And gone to Ludgate.
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.
I pass to Windsor and I lose my crown.
Pass, then, I pray your Highness, to the Tower.
I shall but be their prisoner in the Tower.
The traitor! treason! Pembroke!
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.
No, no, your Grace; see there the arrows flying.
I am Harry’s daughter, Tudor, and not Fear.
[Goes out on the gallery.
The guards are all driven in, skulk into corners