Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/550

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188
The Life and Death of Richard the Third.

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,
God knowes I will not doe it, to the death.

Cates.
God keepe your Lordship 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, whē 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 misdoubt:
Pray God (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 Lordship 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.
God hold it, to your Honors good content.

Hast.
Gramercie fellow: there, drinke that for me.
Throwes him his Purse.

Purs.
Exit Pursuiuant.I thanke your Honor.

Enter a Priest.

Priest.
Well met, my Lord, I am glad to see your Honor.

Hast.
I thanke thee, good Sir Iohn, with all my heart.
I am in your debt, for your last Exercise:
Come the next Sabboth, and I will content you.

Priest.
Ile wait vpon your Lordship.

Enter Buckingham.

Buc.
What, talking with a Priest, Lord Chamberlaine?
Your friends at Pomfret, they doe need the Priest,
Your Honor hath no shriuing worke in hand.

Hast.
Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
The men you talke of, came into my minde.
What, goe you toward the Tower?

Buc.
I doe, my Lord, but long I cannot stay there:
I shall returne before your Lordship, thence.

Hast.
Nay like enough, for I stay Dinner there.

Buc.
And Supper too, although thou know'st it not.
Come, will you goe?

Hast.
Exeunt.Ile wait vpon your Lordship.


Scena Tertia.


Enter Sir Richard Ratcliffe, with Halberds, carrying
the Nobles to death at Pomfret.

Riuers.
Sir Richard Ratcliffe, let me tell thee this,
To day shalt thou behold a Subiect die,
For Truth, for Dutie, and for Loyaltie.

Grey.
God blesse the Prince from all the Pack of you,
A Knot you are, of damned Blood-suckers.

Vaugh.
You liue, that shall cry woe for this heereafter.

Rat.
Dispatch, the limit of your Liues is out.

Riuers.
O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody Prison!
Fatall and ominous to Noble Peeres:
Within the guiltie Closure of thy Walls,
Richard the Second here was hackt to death:
And for more slander to thy dismall Seat,
Wee giue to thee our guiltlesse blood to drinke.

Grey.
Now Margarets Curse is falne vpon our Heads,
When shee exclaim'd on Hastings, you, and I,
For standing by, when Richard stab'd her Sonne.

Riuers.
Then curs'd shee Richard,
Then curs'd shee Buckingham,
Then curs'd shee Hastings. Oh remember God,
To heare her prayer for them, as now for vs:
And for my Sister, and her Princely Sonnes,
Be satisfy'd, deare God, with our true blood,
Which, as thou know'st, vniustly must be spilt.

Rat.
Make haste, the houre of death is expiate.

Riuers.
Come Grey, come Vaughan, let vs here embrace.
Exeunt.Farewell, vntill we meet againe in Heauen.

Scena