Guy Fawkes

Guy Fawkes; Or, A Match For A King

Characters

Guy Fawkes

Tresham

Monteagle

Two Guards

Scene.- The Vault beneath the Houses of Parliament

Guy discovered. Clock strikes

Guy

It strikes me it's struck twelve. Dark mid night lowers;

Each hour's a day until the day Is ours.

Here must I stop all night, nor think of sleep

but even whilst I spout, my watch I'll keep.

If I am alarmed by foes, to catch me thinking

Ere they can wink, all shall go up like winking.

But, how to follow this most daring blow,

Or, what to work at next, I hardly know.

Like Mr. Turner's my designs, though good

Not even by myself are understood. (Knocking without.

Aha! Who's there? Be off! I'm gone to bed.

Bolt, or I'll shoot.

Tres

(Without)

Unshoot the bolt instead,

It's Tresham!--Me! Why kick up such a rout?

(Guy opens door.--Enter Tresham.

Tresh. I've just called in--

Guy. Why didn't you call out?

Yoiu've put me in a flame.

Tres. Don't be put out.

How fares our cause? What have you been about?

Guy. You needn't ask-my work is very plain.

Tres. I see-you've put the matter in a train.

I've only called your spirits, friend, to cheer,

And spend an hour-and something in some beer.

Guy. This is dry work-although, by what I've read,

Less dry than that which passes overhead.

In blowing up the lot, I'm sure my movements

Will be one step tow'rds Westminster improvements.

Give me the money. You keep strict watch here;

Protect the cellar, while I buy the beer. (Exit.

Tres. To be, or not to be. that is the question;

Whether to give the King some slight suggestion

Of Guy Fawkes' motion; or, to let him suffer

The pangs and torments of a blown-up buffer.

My knowledge of the plot I much bewail--

My head is turned-I really must turn tail.

Ha! steps outside; Guy Fawkes returns (Opens door). Come in

Enter Monteagle, head first.

Mont- Confound your steps outside! I' ve broke my shin.

Tres. Ha! Who is this? (Drawing Sword) Speak, or I won't be nice,

Mont I'm Lord Monteagle, formerly Spring Rice.

What! Tresham here! Oh, then, it's very plain,

My note's some crotchet of an idle brain.

Some one has tried on me his tricks to play;

See (Showing Note), here's a valentine I got to-day;

(Reads) "My Lord, in friendship to you this is sent;

Attend to this-and not the Parliament;

Then, burn it.-If you treat it as a joke--

Be sure the business will end in smoke."

Upon receipt of this queer note to-night,

My home I left, to see that all was right.

I took a turn round here--

Tres. Your feelings smother;

You've taken one turn-now you'll get another.

That note's no hoax-

Mont. Ha!

Tres. 'Tis my own inditing.

I know I've acted wrong; but that's my writing.

(After much agitation) This agony of mind I can't endure.

See! Here's a case for the Cold Water Cure!

(Shows the powder

Mon. Oh! horror! What a sight do I behold!

My blood stagnates and will not e'en run cold!

My hair stands all erect-and will not fall-it

Feels like quills on the fretful what-d'ye-call'it!

The Parliament for rubble will be shot!

I'll call the Coldstream Guards-

Tres. You'd better not.

Don't call the Guard; but prenez-garde instead,

Or you may get a bullet through your head.

The horrid man who quarters in this hole,

And hides his plot by selling coke and coal-

The head of all the wretches who intend

To make their powder serve for best Wallsend-

Will soon be here. Till then you here must hide,

And, in some hiding-place preserve your hide.

With drink I'll ply him, until drunk he rolls;

And then, we'll haul him over his own coals.

Mont. You're up to plots it seems.

Tres. No; a mere smatterer.

Mont. You've shown yourself no flat

Tres. Ah! you're a flatterer.

Hark! I hear steps. You must no longer stay;

So stow your jaw, and then yourself away. (concealing him.

If we play well our cards- the game we win

In more degrees than one-I'll let him in.

(Admits Guy, with beer and bread and cheese.

Guy. It's past twelve; they'd shut up the Flying Horse;

I've fetched this all the way from Charing-cross.

I'm out of breath with running through the streets,

Now let us in the House resume our seats.

Tresham, you're pale!

Tres. It isn't that I'm ill-I

Without a fire this time of year feel chilly.

Guy. If we'd a fire, the powder which we've brought

Might cause a Parliamentary Report.

Here's to our friends! (They Drink) As to our foemen, they

Shall find we'll toast them in another way.

(Monteagle advances. Guy Turns half round. He retires.)

What noise is that?

Tres. Nothing. Some rat or mouse.

Guy There's lots of rats, I know, about this house.

Such vermin swarm where they can find a drain.

Tres. (Settting down the beer; and aside.) Confound it! He alludes

to me-that's plain.

(Carelessly.) D'ye keep a cat?

Guy I think there's one about.

Tres. (Aside.) He little thinks how I've let his cat out.

Monteagle advances again. Clock strikes. He retires.

Guy Hark, there goes one! Twelve hours will settle all--

Let's have a song-

Tres. Agreed- (Aside)-He'll soon sing small.

SONG-GUY.

Air.-Guy Fawkes.

When first the King in Parliament shall read his Royal Speech, Sir,

To grease the people over- while he sucks them like a leech, Sir,

Before the Lords on their reply, can think of a decision,

I laugh to think how soon the House will come to a Division!

CHORUS

Ho!Ho!Ho! Fal! dal! &c!

The Ministry I'll throw out, and the Commons all unseat, Sir;

The Members all dismembered, shall be flying through the street, Sir;

All Standing Orders I'll upset, and whilst the whole are going up,

My Train won't be the only one that's ended in a blowing up.

No! No! no! Fal! dal! &c!

Tres (Passes Guy's pistol behind to Monteagle.)

Guy! you don’t drink

Guy. Mo more!--in liquor, I

Am very strict; in fact, a regular Guy.

Tres. Guy-I should like with you to have a word--

Guy. Speak out then, here, we can't be overheard.

Tres. I' ve been for some time thinking--merely thinking--

But don't suppose that from the plot I'm shrinking.

Guy. You'd better not, or else--

Tres. Of course--I know.

(Aside) (I see there'll be a row before I go.

I am very sorry I e'er undertook it,

In Milton's language I should like to hook it.)

(To Guy) But to our plot there seems this slight objection,

We can't blow up in only one direction;

And when loose roofs and walls are blown about

It's most unpleasant weather to be out.

Admit the King does wrong-would it be right

To kill the folks who come to see the sight?

For Ministers' misdoings 't would be hard,

That cabdrivers should fall in Palace-yard.

Blow up the Ministers-with all my heart;

But you would kill those too who take our part,

Which shows a cruelty of disposition.

Can't you contrive to spare the Opposition?

Guy At this last hour would you be my dictator?

your agitation shows you half a traitor.

Tres. You've hurt my feelings!

(Pulls out handkerchief and drops the note to Monteagele.)

Guy. (Picking up the note.) Ha! what's this I see?

Tres. Give me the note!

Guy. No! if I do blow me. (Reading it hastily.)

So here's a Handle of your own Creation!

The key note of your rapid variation!

(Guy draws and strikes at Tresham, who avoids the blow)

Tres. What! make a pass at my unguarded head!

A pretty pass indeed to cut me dead.

It's rather lucky I just then stooped down;

For thus I gave a bob and saved a crown.

(Draws) I'll spoil your glittering blade!

Guy (Laying down his sword and producing another.) I'm not so flat

As you may fancy me to fight with that;

Borrowed of Mr. Nathan for the night,

This is the sort of tool I use to fight!

The combat sword as used by Mr. Hicks!

Sold in the New Cut! Two for one-and-six.

Tres. I neither heed your new cut nor your old one!

Guy. Don't you indeed- We'll try that on, my bold one!

(Combat-Tresham is beaten down by Guy and rescued by Monteagle-Tableau)

Monteagle-("Lovely Zitella.")

So my young feller--you thought not to see

Down in this cellar a foeman like me;

Don't think to be bolting off by the wings,

'Tis Lord Monteagle himself who now sings!

Guy. Ha! am I sold; Still is it not too late,

You can't get out! Remain, and meet your fate!

(Guy seizes the lantern, and lights a fuse in one of the casks;

Tresham extinguishes it with the remains of the beer.)

Tres.- "The breath of Heaven has blown its spirit out,"

Assisted by the last few drops of stout!

Mont. Our fate you see is not decided yet,

Your powder's damaged by the heavy wet!

But he has matches still!

Tres. Control your ire;

Those ha'penny Congreves never do take fire.

(Monteagle levels the pistol at Guy-Tresham stops him.)

Tres. What are you doing! have you lost your wits!

Mind, or the house will rise before it sits.

Can't you see shooting him would be no go?

For if you pull the trigger-up we go!

Which after all our trouble, would be hard.

Fire thorough the keyhole and alarm the guard!

(Monteagle fires through the door-Tresham engages with Guy and disarms him.)

Mont. Don't kill him; if without you can contrive

You'll gain more praise by showing him alive.

Guard outside. Open! I charge you in the name of him I

serve-that's King James-or I shall use the Jemmy.

Guy. Of course you'll open it-Pray don’'t let me

Be any hindrance-I give up the key.

(Wrenches the handle off the key and throws down the pieces.)

(Crash-enter Guard)

Guy. I think to go would be my wisest plan,

But here's no opening for a nice young man!

A case for Mr Wakley then I'll be.

(Offers to stab himself-Guard stops him.)

Guard. No, fellow-we'll have no felo-de-se.

Mont. Guard-place him in that seat-and bind him there

Unanimously voted to the chair.

Search all his pockets though, and if you see

Any small sum in money give it me.

Guard. Here's fourpence.

Mont. Hand it here-that's a dead nail,

Guy. My heart is broken--all seems cold without-

My brain's on fire-and I can't blow it out.

One hope is left me-since all others fail,

When my head's off Ainsworth shall write my tail.

Mont. If fame is all you want you need not fear;

Guy Fawkes shall be remembered once a year.

The characters form into Procession

CURTAIN FALLS.

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