Richard the Third (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter a Messenger to the Doore of Hastings.
¶Hast. Who knockes?
¶Mess. One from the Lord Stanley.
¶Hast. What is't a Clocke?
1800
Enter Lord Hastings.
¶Nights?
1805Hast. What then?
¶He dreamt, the Bore had rased off his Helme:
¶And that may be determin'd at the one,
1810Which may make you and him to rue at th'other.
¶To shun the danger that his Soule diuines.
1815Hast. 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,
1820Whereof I shall not haue intelligence:
¶To flye the Bore, before the Bore pursues,
1825Were to incense the Bore to follow vs,
¶And we will both together to the Tower,
¶
Exit.
¶
Enter Catesby.
¶Cates. Many good morrowes to my Noble Lord.
1835What 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?
1840Doest thou meane the Crowne?
¶Cates. I, my good Lord.
1845Cates. 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.
1850Hast. Indeed I am no mourner for that newes,
¶But, that Ile giue my voice on Richards side,
¶God knowes I will not doe it, to the death.
¶minde.
¶That they which brought me in my Masters hate,
¶I liue to looke vpon their Tragedie.
1860Well Catesby, ere a fort-night make me older,
¶Cates. 'Tis a vile thing to dye, my gracious Lord,
¶When men are vnprepar'd, and looke not for it.
1865With Riuers, Vaughan, Grey: and so 'twill doe
¶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,
1870For they account his Head vpon the Bridge.
¶
Enter Lord Stanley.
¶Come on, come on, where is your Bore-speare man?
¶Feare you the Bore, and goe so vnprouided?
1875Stan. My Lord good morrow, good morrow Catesby:
¶You may ieast on, but by the holy Rood,
¶Hast. My Lord, I hold my Life as deare as yours,
¶And neuer in my dayes, I doe protest,
1880Was it so precious to me, as 'tis now:
¶I would be so triumphant as I am?
¶Sta. The Lords at Pomfret, whẽ they rode from London,
1890Hast. 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.
1895But 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?
¶Then was I going Prisoner to the Tower,
1905But 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.
1910
Throwes him his Purse.
¶
Enter a Priest.
¶nor.
1915Hast. I thanke thee, good Sir Iohn, with all my heart.
¶Come the next Sabboth, and I will content you.
¶
Enter Buckingham.
¶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.
1925What, goe you toward the Tower?
1930Come, will you goe?
