Of that infatiate Edward, noble York
My Princely father then had wars in France;
And by juft computation of the time,
Found that the iffue was not his begot:
Which well appeared in his lineaments,
Being nothing like the noble Duke, my father:
Yet touch this fparingly, as 'twere far off,
Becaufe, my Lord, you know my mother lives.
Buck. Doubt not, my Lord, I'll play the orator
As if the golden fee, for which I plead,
Were for my felf, and fo, my Lord, adieu.

Glo. If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's castle, Where fhall find me well accompanied

you

With reverend fathers and well-learned Bishops.
Buck. I go, and towards three or four a clock,
Look for the news that the Guild-Hall affords.

[Exit Buckingham.
Glo. Go, Lovel, with all speed to Doctor Shaw.
Go thou to Friar Peuker, bid them both [To Catesby.
Meet me within this hour at Baynard's caftle.

[Exeunt Lovel and Catesby feverally.

Now will I go to take fome privy order
To draw the brats of Clarence out of fight;
And to give order, that no fort of perfon
Have any time recourfe unto the Princes.

Enter a Scrivener.

[Exit.

Scriv. Here is th' Indictment of the good Lord Haftings, Which in a fet hand fairly is engrofs'd,

That it may be to-day read o'er in Paul's.

And mark how well the fequel hangs together:

Eleven hours I've spent to write it over,
For yesternight by Catesby was it fent me:
The precedent was full as long a doing.
And yet within thefe five hours Haftings liv'd,
Untainted, unexamin'd, free, at liberty.
Here's a good world the while; who is fo grofs

That

Theobald.

(a) A house in Thames-street belonging to the Duke of Gloucefter.

That cannot fee this palpable device?

Yet who fo bold, but fays, he sees it not?

Bad is the world, and all will come to nought,

When fuch ill dealings must be seen in thought. [Exit.

Glo.

SCENE

VII.

BAYNARD's Caftle.

Enter Gloucester and Buckingham at feveral doors.

WOW now, how now, what fay the citizens? Buck. Now by the holy mother of our Lord, The citizens are mum, fay not a word.

Glo. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's children? Buck. I did, with his contract with Lady Lucy, And his contract by deputy in France; Th' unfatiate greedinefs of his defires, And his enforcement of the city wives; His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy, As being got, your father then in France, And his resemblance, being not like the Duke. Withal, I did infer your lineaments, Being the right idea of your father, Both in your form and nobleness of mind: Laid open all your victories in Scotland, Your difcipline in war, wisdom in peace, Your bounty, virtue, fair humility: Indeed left nothing fitting for the purpose Untouch'd, or flightly handled in difcourfe. And when my oratory grew tow'rd end, I bid them that did love their country's good, Cry, God fave Richard, England's royal King! Glo. And did they fo?

Buck. No, fo God help me, they fpake not a word, But like dumb ftatues or unbreathing ftones, Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale:

Which when I saw, I reprehended them,

And ask'd the Mayor what meant this wilful filence?
His anfwer was, the people were not used
To be fpoke to except by the Recorder.
Then he was urg'd to tell my tale again:
Thus faith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd,
But nothing spoke in warrant from himself.
When he had done, fome followers of mine own,
At lower end o' th' hall, hurl'd up their caps,
And fome ten voices cry'd, God fave King Richard!
And thus I took the vantage of those few.
Thanks, gentle citizens and friends, quoth I,
This general applause and chearful fhout
Argues your wisdom, and your love to Richard.
And even here brake off, and came away.

[fpeak? Glo. What tonguelefs blocks were they, they would not Will not the Mayor then and his brethren come?

Buck. The Mayor is here at hand; pretend fome fear,
Be not you spoke with, but by mighty fuit;
And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,
And ftand between two churchmen, good my Lord,
For on that ground I'll build a holy defcant:
And be not eafily won to our requests:

Play the maid's part, ftill anfwer nay, and take it,
Glo. I go; and if you plead as well for them,
As I can fay nay to thee, for my self;

No doubt we'll bring it to a happy iffue.

[Exit Glo.

Buck. Go, go up to the leads, the Lord Mayor knocks.

Enter Lord Mayor and Citizens.

Welcome, my Lord. I dance attendance here,
I think the Duke will not be spoke withal.

Enter Catesby..

Buck. Catesby, what fays your Lord to my request? Catef. He doth intreat your Grace, my noble Lord, To vifit him to-morrow, or next day;

8 would they not

He

He is within, 'but with two reverend fathers,
Divinely bent to meditation;

And in no worldly fuits would he be mov'd,
To draw him from his holy exercise.

Buck. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke,
Tell him, my felf, the Mayor and aldermen,
In deep defigns, in matter of great moment,
No lefs importing than our gen'ral good,

Are come to have fome conf'rence with his Grace.
Catef. I'll fignifie fo much unto him strait.

[Exit.

Buck. Ah ha, my Lord, this Prince is not an Edward,

He is not lolling on a lewd love-bed,
But on his knees at meditation :

Not dallying with a brace of curtezans,
But meditating with two deep divines:
Not fleeping, to engross his idle body,
But praying, to enrich his watchful foul.

Happy were England, would this virtuous Prince
Take on his Grace the Sov'reignty thereof,

But fure I fear we fhall not win him to it.

Mayor. Marry, God fhield, his Grace should say us nay.
Buck. I fear he will; here Catesby comes again.

Enter Catesby.

Catesby, what fays his Grace?

Catef. He wonders to what end you have affembled Such troops of citizens to come to him,

His Grace not being warn'd thereof before:

He fears, my Lord, you mean no good to him.
Buck. Sorry I am, my noble cousin should

Sufpect me, that I mean no good to him:
By heav'n, we come to him in perfect love,

And fo once more return, and tell his Grace. [Exit Catef.
When holy and devout religious men

Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
So fweet is zealous contemplation.

9 with two right

SCENE

Mayor. See where his Grace ftands 'tween two ClergyBuck. Two props of virtue, for a Christian Prince, [men. To stay him from the fall of vanity:

And fee a book of prayer in his hand,
True ornaments to know a holy man.
Famous Plantagenet! moft gracious Prince,
Lend favourable ear to our requests,
And pardon us the interruption
Of thy devotion and right Chriftian zeal.

Glo. My Lord, there needs no fuch apology;
I do befeech your Grace to pardon me,
Who earnest in the fervice of my God,
Deferr'd the vifitation of my friends.

But leaving this, what is your Grace's pleafure?

Buck. Ev'n that, I hope, which pleafeth God above, And all good men of this ungovern'd Ifle.

Glo. I do fufpect I have done fome offence,

That feems difgracious in the city's eye,

And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.

[Grace,

Buck. You have, my Lord: would it might please your

On our entreaties to amend your fault.

Glo. Elfe wherefore breathe I in a Chriftian land?
Buck. Know then, it is your fault that you refign

The fupream feat, the throne majestical,

The scepter'd office of your ancestors,
Your state of fortune, and your due of birth,
The lineal glory of your royal houfe,
To the corruption of a blemish'd stock:
While in the mildnefs of your fleepy thoughts,
Which here we waken to our country's good,
The noble Ifle doth want her proper limbs:

1 Bishops.

Her