White Knight, there is acknowledg’d from our House
A reverence to you, and a respect
To that lov’d Duke stands next you: with the favour
Of the White King and th' aforenam’d respected,
I combat with this cause. If with all speed,—
Waste not one syllable, unfortunate Pawn,
Of what I speak,—thou dost not plead distraction,
A plea which will but faintly take thee off neither
From this leviathan-scandal that lies rolling
Upon the crystal waters of devotion;
Or, what may quit
[622] thee more, though enough nothing,
Fall down and foam, and by that pang discover
The vexing spirit of falsehood strong within thee,
Make thyself ready for perdition;
There’s no remove
[623] in all the game to ’scape it;
This Pawn or this, the Bishop or myself,
Will take thee in the end, play how thou canst.
W. Q. Pawn. Spite of sin’s glorious ostentation,
And all loud threats, those thunder-cracks of pride,
Ushering a storm of malice; House of impudence,
Craft
[624] and equivocation, my true cause
Shall keep the path it treads in.
B. Knight. I play thus then:
Now in the hearing of this high assembly
Bring forth the time of this attempt’s conception.
W. Q. Pawn. Conception? O, how tenderly you handle it!
W. Bishop. It seems, Black Knight, you are afraid to touch it.
B. Knight. Well, its eruption: will she have it so then,
Or you, White Bishop, for her? the more unclean,
[625]
Vild,
[626] and more
[627] impious that you urge the strain to,
The greater will her shame’s heap shew i' th' end,
And the wrong’d meek man’s glory.—The time, Pawn?
W. Q. Pawn. Yesterday’s
[628] cursed evening.
B. Knight. O the treasure
Of my revenge! I cannot spend all on thee,
Ruin
[629] to spare for all thy kindred too:
For honour’s sake call in more slanderers;
I have such plentiful confusion,
I know not how to waste it. I'll be nobler yet,
And put her to her own House.—King of meekness,
Take the cause to thee, for our hand’s too heavy;
Our proofs will fall upon her like a tower,
And grind her bones to powder.
W. Q. Pawn. What new engine
Has the devil rais’d in him now?
B. Knight. Is it he,
And that the time? stand firm now to your scandal,
Pray, do not shift your slander.
W. Q. Pawn. Shift your treacheries;
They’ve worn one suit too long.
B. Knight. That holy man,
So wrongfully accus’d by this lost Pawn,
Hath not been seen these ten days in these parts.
B. Knight. Nay, at this instant thirty leagues from hence.
W. Q. Pawn. Fathomless falsehood! will it ’scape unblasted?
W. King.[631] Can you make this appear?
B. Knight. Light is not clearer;
By his own letters, most impartial monarch.
W. Kg.'s Pawn.[632] How wrongfully may sacred virtue suffer, sir!
B. Knight. Bishop, we have a treasure of that false heart.
W. King.[633] Step forth, and reach those proofs.