Rev. James White.

THE KING OF THE

COMMONS.

JAMES V. of Scotland, called "The King of the Commons," learns that several of the Nobles of his Court traitorously receive Bribes from England, to subvert his Government. The LORD SETON, the King's

most trusted Friend, is included in the list of Traitors. JAMES summons SETON to his presence, to test the truth of the Accusation.

SCENE-Holyrood. The King's Closet.-Enter an Attendant, conducting Bishop.

Atten. His grace will not be long ere he returns. Please you, be seated.

Bishop. Guard well the prisoner. [Exit Attendant.]

On the eve of war

To leave his foes unwatched-his very camp
A scene of treason; but I've laid my hand
On every loop in the net. "Tis like the king-
Some playful hiding in a burgher suit—

I thought he had been sobered. That's his step.

Enter JAMES.

James. Ha! my good lord—but we're unfitly geared

For shrift and penance; we have rid for the life

Up hill-down dale. But you look big with care.
Out with it; it will burst you.

Bishop. It befits

Neither my years nor my great calling, Sir,

Nor the meek spirit that should harbour here,

To mix in the fierce struggles in a court.

James. I know you well. Excuse me, good my lord,

If, with the flippant quickness of the tongue,

I hide the respect and deep reverence,

Which my heart bears to the right reverend virtues
Of meekness, truth, and most sweet gentleness,
I've ever found in you.

It

Bishop. Ah, Sir! I'm old

may

be that my time is nearly done-
But I would fain, even to the end of my life,
Bear you true service; for I've marked in you
Ever, from boyish days, a loving heart—
Loving, though fiery; and most merciful—
Too merciful!

James. Nay; not so, my good lord.

Ill fares it with kings' swords when the sharp blade
Shines oftener in the subject's dazzled eyes,
Than the pearl-studded heft and jewelled sheath.
Bishop. There may be times when the steel blade is all
That gives true value to the jewelled sheath.

James. How mean you? You were my preceptor, Sir—
Most kind-most wise: but you have told me often
I lacked the bridle, not the spur.

Bishop. The bridle,

In your wild course of dalliance and deray;

The spur, in action fitting for a king.

James. Not so-by Heaven! not so Show me the deed You'd have me do that's fitting for a king,

And, though it tore the softest string i' my heart,
I'll do it.

Bishop. Prepare you, then!

James. What is't, I say?

You think I have no higher, nobler thoughts,
Than suit a pageant king on silken throne?
My lord, you know me not.

Bishop. What would you do

If treachery

James. Pah! you know of treachery, too.
Fear not, my lord—I'm glad 'twas only that!

Whew!-my mind's easy now. Why, my good lord,
I thought 't had been some terribler thing than that.
Bishop. Than what, my liege?

James. You'll see—you'll see; fear not.

I tell you, a king's eye can see as clear

As a good bishop's.

There will be proof.

Ere three hours are fled,

Come to our court at nine;

You'll see some action then that fits a king;

And, as you go, send me Lord Seton.

Bishop. Seton!

No; save in keeping of the guard.

James. My lord,

Say that again: perhaps I heard not right.

I told you to send Seton-my friend Seton-
Lord Seton-and you answered something. What?
Bishop. That he's the traitor I would warn you of.
Fames. Seton a traitor ?—Seton, that I've loved
Since we were boys!-Ho! Seton !-Rest you, Sir;
You shall avouch this thing.—Seton! ho! Seton!
Bishop. My liege, I've proofs.

James. What say you?-proofs?
Bishop. Ay, proofs,

Clearer than sunlight.

Enter Attendant.

James. [With dignity.] Take our greeting, Sir,

To the Lord Seton-we would see him here.

[Exit Attendant

Proofs and of Seton's guilt? Can it be so?
He was my friend-from five years old—so high;
We'd the same masters, played at the same games-
Coits-golf. Fool! fool! to think that any thing
Can bind a heart. I thought his heart was mine,
His love his life;—and to desert me now!
Viper! He shall not live to laugh at me—
At the poor king that trusted. Viper-dog!-
My lord, this thing, you say, is full of proof?
Bishop. Ay, Sir. Be firm.

James. Firm!

There's no tyrant king

That flung men's hearts to feed the beasts i' the circus;

That tore men's limbs with horses for their sport;

That sent men to the tigers, and looked on

To see them quivering in the monster's claws,
Was half so firm—so pitiless!

You're here!

Enter SETON.

Seton. Welcome, kind liege, to Holyrood again!
James. Back-back-keep off me! We're your king,
Lord Seton!

We will be just-we were in anger late.

We're calm.-Though it should burst my heart in twain, I will be calm. [Aside.]

Seton. My liege, what means this change?

I am not used to hear so harsh a voice

From my kind master-from my friend!

James. Not that!

By Heaven, we're friend to not a man on earth!
No-never more!

Seton. You are unjust to me.

You wrong me--oh, you wrong me, Sir!

James. [Aside.] O Heaven!

That I should hear a traitor borrow thus

John Seton's voice, and look through Seton's eyes!-
Now, then, my lord; what say you of this man?
Bishop. That he deceives you.

Seton. I you false-tongued-but,

Forgive me my rough speech; you wear a garb

That checks my tongue.

James. In what does he deceive?

Bishop. He and Lord Hume

James. What! he, too? Where's Lord Hume?

Bishop. I blame not him, my liege.

James. No? Is he true?

Send me Lord Hume: I'd see at least one man

That keeps his faith.

Seton. My liege, I know not yet

What charge the good Lord Bishop brings against me:
But if 'tis breach of faith, of love to you,

I will not say he lies-but it is false.

James. Say on-say on; be sure your proof is strong; For this is such an hour, I would not live it

For all the wealth of earth. Quick! Have it o'er ! Bishop. You bear command, Lord Seton, of the

host?

James. He does.

Bishop. And yet you entertain advice
With English Dacre. Nay, deny it not;
I've seen the messenger in close discourse
At night, within
your tent. I know his errand,
For I have trusty watchers in the camp.
James. Do you deny this?

Seton. I cannot deny