Shakespeare's First Folio Part 422

Buck. Now, my Lord, What shall wee doe, if wee perceiue Lord Hastings will not yeeld to our Complots?

Rich. Chop off his Head: Something wee will determine: And looke when I am King, clayme thou of me The Earledome of Hereford, and all the moueables Whereof the King, my Brother, was possest

Buck. Ile clayme that promise at your Graces hand

Rich. And looke to haue it yeelded with all kindnesse.

Come, let vs suppe betimes, that afterwards Wee may digest our complots in some forme.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter a Messenger to the Doore of Hastings.

Mess. My Lord, my Lord

Hast. Who knockes?

Mess. One from the Lord Stanley

Hast. What is't a Clocke?

Mess. Vpon the stroke of foure.

Enter Lord Hastings.

Hast. Cannot my Lord Stanley sleepe these tedious Nights?

Mess. So it appeares, by that I haue to say: First, he commends him to your n.o.ble selfe

Hast. What then?

Mess. Then certifies your Lords.h.i.+p, that this Night He dreamt, the Bore had rased off his Helme: Besides, he sayes there are two Councels kept; And that may be determin'd at the one, Which may make you and him to rue at th' other.

Therefore he sends to know your Lords.h.i.+ps pleasure, If you will presently take Horse with him, And with all speed post with him toward the North, To shun the danger that his Soule diuines

Hast. Goe fellow, goe, returne vnto thy Lord, Bid him not feare the seperated Councell: His Honor and my selfe are at the one, And at the other, is my good friend Catesby; Where nothing can proceede, that toucheth vs, Whereof I shall not haue intelligence: Tell him his Feares are shallow, without instance.

And for his Dreames, I wonder hee's so simple, To trust the mock'ry of vnquiet slumbers.

To flye the Bore, before the Bore pursues, Were to incense the Bore to follow vs, And make pursuit, where he did meane no chase.

Goe, bid thy Master rise, and come to me, And we will both together to the Tower, Where he shall see the Bore will vse vs kindly

Mess. Ile goe, my Lord, and tell him what you say.

Enter.

Enter Catesby.

Cates. Many good morrowes to my n.o.ble Lord

Hast. Good morrow Catesby, you are early stirring: What newes, what newes, in this our tott'ring State?

Cates. It is a reeling World indeed, my Lord: And I beleeue will neuer stand vpright, Till Richard weare the Garland of the Realme

Hast. How weare the Garland?

Doest thou meane the Crowne?

Cates. I, my good Lord

Hast. Ile haue this Crown of mine cut fro[m] my shoulders, Before Ile see the Crowne so foule mis-plac'd: But canst thou guesse, that he doth ayme at it?

Cates. I, on my life, and hopes to find you forward, Vpon his partie, for the gaine thereof: And thereupon he sends you this good newes, That this same very day your enemies, The Kindred of the Queene, must dye at Pomfret

Hast. Indeed I am no mourner for that newes, Because they haue beene still my aduersaries: But, that Ile giue my voice on Richards side, To barre my Masters Heires in true Descent, G.o.d knowes I will not doe it, to the death

Cates. G.o.d keepe your Lords.h.i.+p in that gracious minde

Hast. But I shall laugh at this a twelue-month hence, That they which brought me in my Masters hate, I liue to looke vpon their Tragedie.

Well Catesby, ere a fort-night make me older, Ile send some packing, that yet thinke not on't

Cates. 'Tis a vile thing to dye, my gracious Lord, When men are vnprepar'd, and looke not for it

Hast. O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it out With Riuers, Vaughan, Grey: and so 'twill doe With some men else, that thinke themselues as safe As thou and I, who (as thou know'st) are deare To Princely Richard, and to Buckingham

Cates. The Princes both make high account of you, For they account his Head vpon the Bridge

Hast. I know they doe, and I haue well deseru'd it.

Enter Lord Stanley.

Come on, come on, where is your Bore-speare man?

Feare you the Bore, and goe so vnprouided?

Stan. My Lord good morrow, good morrow Catesby: You may ieast on, but by the holy Rood, I doe not like these seuerall Councels, I

Hast. My Lord, I hold my Life as deare as yours, And neuer in my dayes, I doe protest, Was it so precious to me, as 'tis now: Thinke you, but that I know our state secure, I would be so triumphant as I am?

Sta. The Lords at Pomfret, whe[n] they rode from London, Were iocund, and suppos'd their states were sure, And they indeed had no cause to mistrust: But yet you see, how soone the Day o're-cast.

This sudden stab of Rancour I mis...o...b..: Pray G.o.d (I say) I proue a needlesse Coward.

What, shall we toward the Tower? the day is spent

Hast. Come, come, haue with you: Wot you what, my Lord, To day the Lords you talke of, are beheaded

Sta. They, for their truth, might better wear their Heads, Then some that haue accus'd them, weare their Hats.

But come, my Lord, let's away.

Enter a Pursuiuant.

Hast. Goe on before, Ile talke with this good fellow.

Exit Lord Stanley, and Catesby.

How now, Sirrha? how goes the World with thee?

Purs. The better, that your Lords.h.i.+p please to aske

Hast. I tell thee man, 'tis better with me now, Then when thou met'st me last, where now we meet: Then was I going Prisoner to the Tower, By the suggestion of the Queenes Allyes.

But now I tell thee (keepe it to thy selfe) This day those Enemies are put to death, And I in better state then ere I was

Purs. G.o.d hold it, to your Honors good content

Hast. Gramercie fellow: there, drinke that for me.

Throwes him his Purse.