Hast.
Now Noble Peers, the cause why we are met
Is to determine of the Coronation:
In God's Name speak, when is the Royal Day?

Buck.
Are all things ready for the Royal time?

Derby.
They are and want but Nomination.

Ely.
To Morrow then I judge a happy Day.

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 others Faces; for our Hearts,
He knows no more of mine than I of yours,
Or I of his, my Lord, than you of mine:
Lord Hastings, you and he are near in Love.

Hast.
I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well:
But for his purpose in the Coronation,
I have not sounded him, nor he deliver'd
His gracious pleasure any way therein:
But you, my Honourable Lord, may name the time,
And in the Duke's behalf I'll give my Voice,
Which I presume he'll take in gentle part. Enter Gloucester.

Ely.
In happy time here comes the Duke himself.

Glo.
My Noble Lords and Cousins all, good morrow;
I have been long a sleeper; but I trust
My absence doth neglect no great Design,

Which by my presence might have been concluded.

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.

Glo.
Than my Lord Hastings no Man might be bolder,
His Lordship knows me well, and loves me well.
My Lord of Ely, when I was last in Holbourn,
I saw good Strawberries in your Garden there,
I do beseech you send for some of them.

Ely.
Marry and will, my Lord, with all my heart. [Exit Ely.

Glo.
Cousin of Buckingham, a word with you.
Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our Business,
And finds the testy Gentleman so hot,
That he will lose his Head e'er give consent
His Master's Child, as worshipfully he terms it,
Shall lose the Royalty of England's Throne.

Buck.
Withdraw your self a while, I'll go with you. [Exeunt.

Derby.
We have not yet set down this Day of Triumph:
To Morrow, in my judgment, is too sudden,
For I my self am not so well provided,
As else I would be were the Day prolong'd. Enter Bishop of Ely.

Ely.
Where is my Lord, the Duke of Gloucester?
I have sent for these Strawberries.

Hast.
His Grace looks cheerfully and smooth this Morning,
There's some Conceit or other likes him well
When that he bids good Morrow with such Spirit.
I think there's never a Man in Christendom
Can lesser hide his Love or Hate than he,
For by his Face straight shall you know his Heart.

Derby.
What of his Heart perceive you in his Face,
By any livelihood he shew'd to Day?

Hast.
Marry that with no Man here he is offended:
For were he, he had shewn it in his Looks. Enter Gloucester and Buckingham.

Glo.
I pray you all, tell me what they deserve,
That do conspire my Death with devilish Plots
Of damned Witchcraft, and that have prevail'd
Upon my Body, with their hellish Charms.

Hast.
The tender love I bear your Grace, my Lord,
Makes me most forward in this Princely presence,
To doom th' Offenders, whosoe'er they be:
I say, my Lord, they have deserved Death.

Glo.
Then be your Eyes the witness of their Evil,
Look how I am bewitch'd; behold mine Arm
Is like a blasted Sapling wither'd up:
And this is Edward's Wife, that monstrous Witch,
Consorted with that Harlot, Strumpet Shore,
That by their Witchcraft thus have marked me.

Hast.
If they have done this Deed, my Noble Lord—

Glo.
If? thou Protector of this damned Strumpet,
Talk'st thou to me of Iffs? thou art a Traitor—
Off with his Head—now by Saint Paul I swear,
I will not dine until I see the same.
Lovel and Ratcliff, look that it be done:
The rest that love me, rise and follow me. [Exeunt. Manent Lovel and Ratcliff, with the Lord Hastings.

Hast.
Wo, wo for England, not a whit for me,
For I, too fond, might have prevented this:
Stanly did dream the Boar did rase our Helms,
And I did scorn it, and disdain to fly:
Three times to day my Foot-cloth Horse did stumble,
And started when he look'd upon the Tower,
As loath to bear me to the Slaughter-house.
O now I need the Priest that spake to me:
I now repent I told the Pursuivant,
As too triumphing, how mine Enemies
To day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd,
And I my self secure in Grace and Favour.
Oh Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy Curse
Is lighted on poor Hastings wretched Head.

Rat.
Come, come, dispatch, the Duke would be at dinner.
Make a short Shrift, he longs to see your Head.

Hast.
O momentary Grace of mortal Men,
Which we more hunt for, than the Grace of God!
Who builds his hope in Air of your good Looks,
Lives like a drunken Sailor on a Mast,
Ready with every nod to tumble down
Into the fatal Bowels of the Deep.

Lov.
Come, come, dispatch, 'tis bootless to exclaim.

Hast.
O bloody Richard, miserable England,
I prophesie the fearfull'st time to thee,
That ever wretched Age hath look'd upon.
Come, lead me to the Block, bear him my Head:
They smile at me who shortly shall be dead. [Exeunt. Enter Gloucester and Buckingham in rusty Armor, marvellous ill-favour'd.

Glo.
Come Cousin,
Can'st thou quake and change thy colour,
Murther thy breath in the middle of a Word,
And then again begin, and stop again,
As if thou were distraught and mad with Terror?

Buck.
Tut, I can counterfeit the deep Tragedian,
Speak, and look back, and pry on every side,
Tremble and start at wagging of a Straw:
Intending deep Suspicion, gastly Looks
Are at my Service, like enforced Smiles;
And both are ready in their Offices,
At any time, to grace my Stratagems.
But what, is Catesby gone?

Glo.
He is, and see he brings the Mayor along. Enter the Lord Mayor and Catesby.

Buck.
Lord Mayor—

Glo.
Look to the Draw-bridge there.

Buck.
Hark, a Drum.

Glo.
Catesby, o'erlook the Walls.

Buck.
Lord Mayor, the reason we have sent—

Glo.
Look back, defend there, here are Enemies.

Buck.
God and our Innocency defend and guard us. Enter Lovel and Ratcliff with Hastings's Head.

Glo.
Be patient, they are Friends; Ratcliff and Lovel.

Lov.
Here is the Head of that ignoble Traitor,
The dangerous and unsuspected Hastings.

Glo.
So dear I lov'd the Man that I must weep:
I took him for the plainest harmless Creature
That breath'd upon the Earth, a Christian:
Made him my Book, wherein my Soul recorded
The History of all her secret Thoughts;
So smooth he daub'd his Vice with shew of Virtue,
That his apparent open Guilt omitted,

I mean his Conversation with Shore's Wife,
He liv'd from all attainder of suspects.

Buck.
Well, well, he was the covert'st shelter'd Traitor
That ever lived.
Would you imagine, or almost believe,
Wer't not, that by great preservation
We live to tell it, that the subtle Traitor
This Day had plotted, in the Council-House,
To murther me and my good Lord of Glo'ster.

Mayor.
Had he done so?

Glo.
What! think you we are Turks or Infidels?
Or that we would, against the form of Law
Proceed thus rashly in the Villain's Death,
But that the extream peril of the Case,
The Peace of England, and our Persons safety
Enforc'd us to this Execution.

Mayor.
Now fair befall you, he deserv'd his death,
And your good Graces both have well proceeded,
To warn false Traitors from the like Attempts.

Buck.
I never look'd for better at his Hands,
After he once fell in with Mistress Shore:
Yet had we not determin'd he should die
Until your Lordship came to see his end,
Which now the loving haste of these our Friends,
Something against our meanings hath prevented;
Because, my Lord, I would have had you heard
The Traitor speak, and timerously confess
The manner and the purpose of his Treasons:
That you might well have signify'd the same
Unto the Citizens, who haply may
Misconstrue us in him, and wail his Death.

Mayor.
But, my good Lord, your Grace's Words shall serve,
As well as I had seen and heard him speak:
And do not doubt, right Noble Princes both,
But I'll acquaint our duteous Citizens,
With all your just Proceedings in this case.

Glo.
And to that end we wish'd your Lordship here,
T'avoid the Censures of the carping World.

Buck.
Which since you come too late of our intent,
Yet witness what you hear we did intend;
And so, my good Lord Mayor, we bid farewel. [Ex. Mayor.

Glo.
Go after, after, Cousin Buckingham.
The Mayor towards Guild-Hall hies him in all post:
There, at your meetest vantage of the time,
Infer the Bastardy of Edward's Children,
Tell them, how Edward put to death a Citizen,
Only for saying he would make his Son
Heir to the Crown, meaning indeed his House,
Which by the Sign thereof was termed so.
Moreover, urge his hateful Luxury,
And bestial appetite in change of Lust,
Which stretch'd unto their Servants, Daughters, Wives,
Even where his raging Eye, or savage Heart,
Without controll, lusted to make a prey.
Nay, for a need, thus far come near my Person:
Tell them, when that my Mother went with Child
Of that insatiate Edward, Noble York,
My Princely Father then had Wars in France,
And by true Computation of the Time,
Found that the Issue was not his begot:
Which well appeared in his Lineaments,
Being nothing like the Noble Duke, my Father:
Yet touch this sparingly as 'twere far off,
Because, 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 self; and so, my Lord, adieu.

Glo.
If you thrive well, bring them to Baynard's Castle,
Where you shall find me, well accompanied
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 Beuker, bid them both [To Ratcliff.
Meet me within this hour at Baynard's Castle. [Exeunt.
Now will I go to take some privy Order
To draw the Brats of Clarence out of sight,
And to give order, that no manner of Person
Have any time recourse unto the Princes. [Exit.

Enter a Scrivener.

Scriv.
Here is the Indictment of the good Lord Hasting,
Which in a set Hand fairly is engross'd,
That it may be to day read o'er in Paul's.
And mark how well the sequel hangs together:
Eleven hours I have spent to write it over,
For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me,
The Precedent was full as long a doing,
And yet within these five hours Hastings liv'd,
Untainted, unexamin'd, free, at liberty.
Here's a good World the while; who is so gross
That cannot see this palpable Device?
Yet who so bold, but says, he sees it not?
Bad is the World, and all will come to nought,
When such ill dealing must be seen in thought. [Exit. Enter Gloucester and Buckingham at several Doors.

Glo.
How now, how now, what say the Citizens?

Buck.
Now by the holy Mother of our Lord,
The Citizens are mum, say 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' unsatiate greediness of his desire,
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 Discipline in War, Wisdom in Peace,
Your Bounty, Virtue, fair Humility:
Indeed left nothing fitting for your Purpose
Untoucht, or slightly handled in Discourse.
And when my Oratory grew toward end,
I bid them that did love their Country's good,
Cry, God save Richard, England's Royal King.

Glo.
And did they so?

Buck
No, so God help me, they spake not a Word,
But like dumb Statues or unbreathing Stones,

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 silence?
His answer was, the People were not used
To be spoke to, but by the Recorder.
Then he was urg'd to tell my Tale again:
Thus saith the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd,
But nothing spoke in warrant from himself.
When he had done, some Followers of mine own,
At lower end of the Hall, hurl'd up their Caps,
And some ten Voices cry'd, God save King Richard:
And thus I took the vantage of those few.
Thanks, gentle Citizens and Friends, quoth I,
This general Applause, and chearful Shout,
Argues your Wisdom, and your love to Richard;
And even here brake off and came away.

Glo.
What Tongue-less Blocks were they,
Would they not speak?
Will not the Mayor then and his Brethren come?

Buck.
The Mayor is here at hand; intend some fear,
Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit;
And look you get a Prayer-Book in your Hand,
And stand between two Churchmen, good my Lord,
For on that ground I'll make a holy Descant:
And be not easily won to our Requests,
Play the Maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.

Glo.
I go: And if you plead as well for them.
As I can say nay to thee for my self,
No doubt we bring it to a happy Issue. [Ex. 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.
Now Catesby, what says your Lord to my Request

Cates.
He doth intreat your Grace, my Noble Lord,
To visit him to Morrow, or next Day:
He is within, with two right Reverend Fathers,
Divinely bent to Meditation,
And in no worldly Suits would he be mov'd,
To draw him from his holy Exercise.

Buck.
Return, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke,
Tell him, my self, the Mayor and Aldermen,
In deep Designs, in matter of great Moment,
No less importing than our general Good,
Are come to have some conference with his Grace.

Cates.
I'll signifie so much unto him straight. [Exit.

Buck.
Ah ha, my Lord, this Prince is not an Edward,
He is not lulling on a lew'd Love-Bed,
But on his Knees at Meditation:
Not dallying with a Brace of Curtizans,
But meditating with two deep Divines:
Not sleeping, to engross his idle Body,
But praying, to enrich his watchful Soul.
Happy were England, would this virtuous Prince
Take on his Grace the Soveraignty thereof.
But sure I fear we shall not win him to it.

Mayor.
Marry, God defend, his Grace should say us nay.

Buck.
I fear he will; here Catesby comes again. Enter Catesby.
Now Catesby, what says his Grace?

Cates.
He wonders to what end you have assembled
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
Suspect me, that I mean no good to him:
By Heav'n, we come to him in perfect Love,
And so once more return, and tell his Grace. [Exit Catesby.
When holy and devout Religious Men
Are at their Beads, 'tis much to draw them thence,
So sweet is zealous Contemplation. Enter Gloucester above, between two Bishops.

Mayor.
See where his Grace stands 'tween two Clergymen.

Buck.
Two Props of Virtue, for a Christian Prince,
To stay him from the fall of Vanity:
And see a Book of Prayer in his Hand,
True Ornaments to know a holy Man.
Famous Plantagenet, most gracious Prince,
Lend favourable Ear to our requests,
And pardon us the interruption
Of thy Devotion and right Christian Zeal.

Glo.
My Lord, there needs no such Apology;
I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
Who earnest in the Service of th' high God,
Deferr'd the Visitation of my Friends.
But leaving this, what is your Grace's pleasure?

Buck.
Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
And all good Men, of this ungovern'd Isle.

Glo.
I do suspect I have done some offence,
That seems disgracious in the City's Eye,
And that you come to reprehend my Ignorance.

Buck.
You have, my Lord.
Would it might please your Grace,
On our entreaties to amend your Fault.

Glo.
Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian Land.

Buck.
Know then, it is your Fault that you resign
The Supream Seat, the Throne Majestical,
The Sceptred Office of your Ancestors,
Your State of Fortune, and your due of Birth,
The Lineal Glory of your Royal House,
To the corruption of a blemish'd Stock;
Whiles in the mildness of your sleepy Thoughts,
Which here we waken to our Country's good,
The noble Isle doth want his proper Limbs:
His Face defac'd with skars of Infamy,
His Royal Stock graft with ignoble Plants,
And almost shouldred in the swallowing Gulf
Of dark Forgetfulness, and deep Oblivion.
Which to re-cure, we heartily sollicit
Your gracious self to take on you the charge
And Kingly Government of this your Land:
Not as Protector, Steward, Substitute,
Or lowly Factor, for another's gain;
But as successively, from Blood to Blood,
Your right of Birth, your Empiry, your own.
For this, consorted with the Citizens,
Your very Worshipful and loving Friends,
And by their vehement Instigation,
In this just Cause come I to move your Grace.

Glo.
I cannot tell, if to depart in silence,
Or bitterly to speak in your reproof,

Best fitteth my Degree, or your Condition.
For not to answer, you might haply think
Tongue-ty'd Ambition, not replying, yielded
To bear the Golden Yoak of Soveraignty,
Which fondly you would here impose on me.
If to reprove you for this suit of yours,
So season'd with your faithful Love to me,
Then on the other side I check'd my Friends.
Therefore to speak, and to avoid the first,
And then in speaking, not to incur the last,
Definitively thus I answer you.
Your Love deserves my thanks, but my desert
Unmeritable, shuns your high request.
First, if all Obstacles were cut away,
And that my Path were even to the Crown,
As the ripe Revenue, and due of Birth;
Yet so much is my poverty of Spirit,
So mighty, and so many my Defects,
That I would rather hide me from my Greatness,
Being a Bark to brook no mighty Sea;
Than in my Greatness covet to be hid,
And in the vapour of my Glory smother'd.
But God be thank'd, there is no need of me,
And much I need to help you, were there need:
The Royal Tree hath left us Royal Fruit,
Which mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
Will well become the Seat of Majesty,
And make us, no doubt, happy by his Reign.
On him I lay that, you would lay on me,
The Right and Fortune of his happy Stars,
Which God defend that I should wring from him.

Buck.
My Lord, this argues Conscience in your Grace,
But the respects thereof are nice, and trivial,
All Circumstances well considered.
You say, that Edward is your Brother's Son,
So say we too, but not by Edward's Wife:
For first was he contract to Lady Lucy,
Your Mother lives a Witness to his Vow,
And afterward by Substitute betroth'd
To Bona, Sister to the King of France.
These both put off, a poor Petitioner,

A Care-craz'd Mother to a many Sons,
A Beauty-waining, and distressed Widow,
Even in the Afternoon of her best Day,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton Eye,
Seduc'd the pitch, and height of his Degree,
To base Declension, and loath'd Bigamy.
By her, in his unlawful Bed, he got
This Edward, whom our Manners call the Prince.
More bitterly could I expostulate,
Save that for reverence of some alive,
I give a sparing limit to my Tongue.
Then, good my Lord, take to your Royal Self
This proffer'd benefit of Dignity:
If not to bless us, and the Land withal,
Yet to draw forth your noble Ancestry
From the corruption of abusing times,
Unto a Lineal true derived course.

Mayor.
Do, good my Lord, your Citizens intreat you.

Buck.
Refuse not, mighty Lord, this proffer'd Love.

Cates.
O make them joyful, grant their lawful Suit.

Glo.
Alas, why would you heap this Care on me?
I am unfit for State, and Majesty:
I do beseech you take it not amiss,
I cannot, nor I will not yield to you.

Buck.
If you refuse it, as in love and zeal,
Loath to depose the Child your Brother's Son,
As well we know your tenderness of Heart,
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
Which we have noted in you to your Kindred,
And equally indeed to all Estates:
Yet know, where you accept our Suit, or no,
Your Brother's Son shall never reign our King,
But we will plant some other in the Throne,
To the disgrace and down-fall of your House:
And in this resolution here we leave you.
Come Citizens, we will intreat no more. [Exeunt.

Cates.
Call him again, sweet Prince, accept their Suit:
If you deny them, all the Land will rue it.

Glo.
Will you enforce me to a World of Cares?
Call them again, I am not made of Stones,

But penetrable to your kind Entreaties,
Albeit against my Conscience and my Soul. Enter Buckingham and the rest.
Cousin of Buckingham, and sage, grave Men,
Since you will buckle Fortune on my Back,
To bear her Burthen, whether, I will or no,
I must have patience to endure the Load:
But if black Scandal, or foul-fac'd Reproach,
Attend the sequel of your Imposition,
Your meer enforcement shall acquittance me
From all the impure blots and stains thereof,
For God doth know, and you may partly see,
How far I am from the desire of this.

Mayor.
God bless your Grace, we see it, and will say it.

Glo.
In saying so, you shall but say the truth.

Buck.
Then I salute you with this Royal Title,
Long live King Richard, England's worthy King.

All.
Amen.

Buck.
To morrow may it please you to be Crown'd.

Glo.
Even when you please, for you will have it so.

Buck.
To morrow then we will attend your Grace,
And so most joyfully we take our leave.

Glo.
Come, let us to our holy Work again.
Farewel my Cousins, farewel gentle Friends. [Exeunt.

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