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Whereof I shall not have intelligence:
Hajt. Good morrow, Catesby, you are early stirring:
Cates. It is a reeling world indeed, my Lord; And I believe will never stand upright, 'Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.
Hast. How! wear the garland? dost thou mean the crown? Cates. Ay, my good Lord.
Hajt. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders, Before I'll see the crown so foul misplac'd. But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?
Cates. Ay, on my life, and hopes to find you forward
Haft. Indeed I am no mourner for that news,
Cates. God keep your Lordship in that gracious mind!
Hast. But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,
Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older,
Catef. 'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious Lord,
Hast. O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it out
Cates. The Princes both make high account of you---For they account his head upon the bridge. [Afide.
Haft. I know they do, and I have well desery'd it,
Enter Lord Stanley
Come on, come on, where is your boar-spear, man?
Stan. My Lord, good-morrow; and good-morrow,
Haft. My Lord, I hold my life as dear as yours,
Stan, The Lords at Pomfret, when they rode from London,
Hast. Come, come, have with you: wot ye what, my To-day the Lords you talk of are beheaded. (Lord?
Stań They, for their truth, might better wear their heads, Than fome that have accus'd them wear their hats. But come, my Lord, away.
Enter a Pursuivant.
[Exeunt Lord Stanley and Catesby. Sirrah, how now? how goes the world with thee?
Purs. The better, that your Lordship please to ask.
Hast. I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now,
Purs. God hold it to your honours good content!
(Throws him his purse. Purs, I thank your honour.
Enter a Priest.
Hast. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart;
Haft. Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
Buck. I do, my Lord, but long I shall not stay;
Haft. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.
Buck. And supper too, altho' thou know'st it not. [-Afide. Come, will you go? Hast. I'll wait
upon your Lordship. [Exeuni.
S C E N E IV.
Pomfret-Castle. Enter Sir Richard Ratcliff, with halberds, carrying Lord
Rivers, Lord Gray, and Sir Thomas Vaughan to death. Rat. COME, bring forth the prisoners.
Riv. Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this, To-day shalt thou behold a subject die For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.
Gray. God keep the Prince from all the pack of you! A knot you are of damned blood-fuckers.
Vaugh. You live, that shall cry woe for this hereafter.
Riv. o Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison !
Riv. Then curs’d she Richard, curs'd she Buckingham, Then curs'd she Hastings. O remember, God! To hear her prayer for them, as now for us: As for my sister and her Princely fons, Be satisfy'd, dear God! with our true blood; Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt.
Rat. Make haste, the hour of death is now expir’d.
Riv. Come, Gray; come, Vaughan, let us all embrace; Farewel, until we meet again in heaven. [Exeunt.
Buckingham, Stanley, Hastings, Bishop of Ely, Catesby,
Norfolk, Ratcliff, Lovel, with others, at a table.
Buck. Are all things ready for that royal time?
Buck. Who knows the Lord Protector's mind herein? Who is most inward with the noble Duke?
Ely. Your Grace, we think, should soonest know his mind,
Buck. We know each other's faces; for our hearts,
Hast. I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well;
Glo. My noble Lords and cousins all, good morrow;
Buck. Had you not come upon your cue, my Lord, William Lord Hastings had pronounc'd your part, I mean your voice for crowning of the King.