Rat.
Most mighty Sovereign, on the western coast
Rideth a puissant Navy; to our shores
Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
Unarm'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back;
'Tis thought that Richmond is their Admiral,
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.

K. Rich.
^{1 note}Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk,
Ratcliff, thyself; or Catesby; where is he?

Cates.
Here, my good Lord.

K. Rich.
Catesby, fly to the Duke.

Cates.
I will, my Lord, with all convenient haste.

K. Rich.
Ratcliff, come hither, post to Salisbury;
When thou com'st thither—dull unmindful villain, [To Cates.
Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the Duke?

Cates.
First, mighty Liege, tell me your Highness' pleasure,
What from your Grace I shall deliver to him.

K. Rich.
O true, good Catesby. Bid him levy strait

The greatest strength and power he can make,
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

Cates.
I go. [Exit.

Rat.
What, may it please you, shall I do at Salisbury?

K. Rich.
Why, what wouldst thou do there, before I go?

Rat.
Your Highness told me, I should post before.

K. Rich.
My mind is chang'd— Enter Lord Stanley.
Stanley, what news with you?

Stanl.
None good, my Liege, to please you with the hearing;
Nor none so bad, but well may be reported.

K. Rich.
Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad:
Why dost thou run so many miles about,
When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way;
Once more, what news?

Stanl.
Richmond is on the seas.

K. Rich.
There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
White-liver'd Runnagate, what doth he there?

Stanl.
I know not, mighty Sovereign, but by guess.

K. Rich.
Well, as you guess.

Stanl.
Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,
He makes for England, here to claim the Crown.

K. Rich.
Is the Chair empty? is the Sword unsway'd?
Is the King dead? the Empire unpossess'd?
What Heir of York is there alive, but We?
And who is England's King, but great York's heir?
Then tell me, what makes he upon the sea?

Stanl.
Unless for that, my Liege, I cannot guess.

K. Rich.
Unless for that he comes to be your Liege,
You cannot guess wherefore the Welsh-man comes.
Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

Stanl.
No, mighty Liege, therefore mistrust me not.

K. Rich.
Where is thy Power then to beat him back?
Where are thy Tenants, and thy Followers?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the Rebels from their ships?

Stanl.
No, my good Lord, my friends are in the North.

K. Rich.
Cold friends to me. What do they in the North,
When they should serve their Sov'reign in the West?

Stanl.
They have not been commanded, mighty King;
Please it your Majesty to give me leave,
I'll muster up my friends, and meet your Grace,
Where, and what time your Majesty shall please.

K. Rich.
Ay, thou wouldst fain be gone, to join with Richmond,
But I'll not trust thee.

Stan.
Mighty Sovereign,
You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful.
I never was, nor never will be, false.

K. Rich.
Go then, and muster men; but leave behind
Your son George Stanley; look, your heart be firm,
Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

Stanl.
So deal with him, as I prove true to you! [Exit Stanley. Enter a Messenger.

Mes.
My gracious Sov'reign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advertised,
Sir Edmund Courtney, and the haughty Prelate,
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
With many more confed'rates, are in arms.

Enter another Messenger.

Mes.
In Kent, my Liege, the Guilfords are in arms,
And every hour ^{2 note}more competitors
Flock to the Rebels, and their Power grows strong. Enter another Messenger.

Mes.
My Lord, the army of the Duke of Buckingham—

K. Rich.
Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of death? [He strikes him.
There, take thou that, 'till thou bring better news.

Mes.
The news I have to tell your Majesty,
Is, that, by sudden floods and fall of waters,
Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd;
And he himself wander'd away alone,
No man knows whither.

K. Rich.
Oh! I cry thee mercy.
There is my purse, to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

Mes.
Such Proclamation hath been made, my Liege. Enter another Messenger.

Mes.
Sir Thomas Lovel, and Lord Marquis Dorset,
'Tis said, my Liege, in Yorkshire are in arms;
But this good comfort bring I to your Highness,
The Bretagne Navy is dispersed, by tempest.
Richmond in Dorsetshire sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks,
If they were his assistants, yea, or no;
Who answered him, they came from Buckingham
Upon his Party; he, mistrusting them,
Hois'd sail, and made his course for Bretagny.

K. Rich.
March on, march on, since we are up in arms,
If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Yet to beat down these Rebels here at home. Enter Catesby.

Cates.
My Liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken,
That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond
Is with a mighty Pow'r landed at Milford,
Is colder news, but yet it must be told.

K. Rich.
Away tow'rds Salisbury; while we reason here,
A royal battle might be won and lost.
Some one take order, Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. [Exeunt.

Previous section

Next section