Mef. One from Lord Stanley.

Haft. What is't o'clock?

Mef. Upon the ftroke of four.

Enter Lord Haftings.

Haft. Cannot thy mafter fleep these tedious nights?
Mef. So it appears, by what I have to say:

Firft, he commends him to your noble self.
Haft. What then?

Mef. Then certifies your Lordship, that this night
He dreamt, the Boar had rafed off his helm:
Befides, he fays, there are two Councils held;
And That may be determin'd at the one,
Which may make you and him to rue at th' other.
Therefore he fends to know your Lordship's pleasure,
If you will presently take horse with him,
And with all speed post with him tow'rds the north;
To fhun the danger that his foul divines.

Haft. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy Lord,
Bid him not fear the feparated Councils:
His honour, and myself, are at the one;
And, at the other, is my good friend Catesby;
Where nothing can proceed, that toucheth us,
Whereof I fhall not have intelligence:

Tell him, his fears are fhallow, wanting inftance;
And for his dreams, I wonder, he's fo fond
To truft the mock'ry of unquiet flumbers.
To fly the boar, before the boar pursues,
Were to incenfe the boar to follow us;
And make purfuit, where he did mean no chase.
Go, bid thy master rise and come to me,
And we will both together to the Tower,

Where, he shall fee, the boar will ufe us kindly.
Mef. I'll go, my Lord, and tell him what you say.

Enter Catesby.

[Exit.

Catef. Many good-morrows to my noble Lord!

Haft.

Haft. Good-morrow, Catesby, you are early stirring: What news, what news, in this our tott'ring State? Catef. It is a reeling world, indeed, my Lord; And, I believe, will never ftand upright,

Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.

Haft. How! wear the garland? doft thou mean the crown?

Catef. Ay, my good Lord.

Haft. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my fhoulders,

Before I'll see the crown fo foul misplac'd.

But canft thou guess that he doth aim at it?
Catef. Ay, on my life, and hopes to find you for-

ward

Upon his party, for the gain thereof:

And thereupon he fends you this good news,
That this fame very day your enemies,
The kindred of the Queen, muft die at Pomfret.
Haft. Indeed I am no mourner for that news,
Because they have been ftill my adverfaries;
But that I'll give my voice on Richard's fide,
To bar my mafter's heirs in true defent,

God knows, I will not do it, to the death.

Catef. God keep your Lordship in that gracious

mind!

Haft. But I fhall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,

That they, who brought me in my master's hate,
I live to look upon their tragedy.

Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older,
I'll fend fome packing that yet think not on't.
Catef. 'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious Lord,
When men are unprepar'd and look not for it.

Haft. O monftrous, monftrous! and fo falls it out
With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey; and fo 'twill do
With fome men elfe, who think themfelves as safe
As thou and I; who, as thou know'ft, are dear
To Princely Richard and to Buckingham.

M 6

Catef.

Catef. The Princes both make high account of

you

For they account his head upon the bridge. [Afide. Haft. I know, they do; and I have well deferv'd it. Enter Lord Stanley.

Come on, come on, where is your boar-spear, man ? Fear you the boar, and go fo unprovided?

Stan. My Lord, good-morrow; and, good-morrow, Catesby;

You may jeft on, but, by the holy rood,

I do not like these several Councils, I.

Haft. My Lord, I hold my life as dear as you do yours.

And never in my days, I do protest,

Was it fo precious to me as 'tis now;
Think you, but that I know our ftate fecure,
I would be fo triumphant as I am?

Stan. The Lords at Pomfret, when they rode from
London,

Were jocund, and fuppos'd, their ftates were fure;
And they, indeed, had no caufe to mistrust;

But yet, you fee; how foon the day o'er-caft.
This fudden flab of rancor I mifdoubt;
Pray God, I fay, I prove a needlefs coward!
What, fhall we tow'rd the Tower? the day is spent.
Haft. Come, come, have with you: wot yet what,
my Lord?

To-day the Lords, you talk of, are beheaded.

Stan. They, for their truth, might better wear their heads,

Than fome, that have accus'd them, wear their hats. But come, my Lord, away.

Enter a Purfuivant.

Haft. Go on before, I'll talk with this good fellow. [Exeunt Lord Stanley and Catesby. Sirrah, how now? how goes the world with thee?

Purf.

Purf. The better, that your Lordship please to ask. Haft. I tell thee, man, 'tis better, with me now, Than when thou met'ft me last where now we meet; Then I was going prisoner to the Tower, By the fuggeftion of the Queen's allies. But now I tell thec, (keep it to thyfelf,) This day thofe enemies are put to death; And I in better ftate, than e'er I was.

Purf. God hold it to your Honour's good content! Haft. Gramercy, fellow; there, drink that for me.

Purf. I thank your Honour.

Enter a Prieft.

[Throws him his purfe. [Exit Purfuivant.

Prieft. Well met, my Lord, I'm glad to see your Honour.

Haft. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart;

I'm in

your debt for your laft exercife:

Come the next fabbath, and I will content you.

Enter Buckingham.

[He whispers.

Buck. What, talking with a Prieft, Lord Chamberlain?

Your friends at Pomfret they do need a Priest,
Your Honour hath no fhriving work in hand.

Haft. Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
The men, you talk of, came into
my mind.
What, go you tow'rd the Tower?

Buck. I do, my Lord, but long I shall not stay: I fhall return before your Lordship thence.

Haft. Nay, like enough, for I ftay dinner there. Buck. And fupper too, altho' thou know'ft it not.

Come, will you go?

Haft. I'll wait upon your Lordship.

[Afide.

[Exeunt. SCENE

Enter Sir Richard Ratcliff, with halberts, carrying Lord Rivers, Lord Richard Gray, and Sir Thomas Vaughan to Death.

Rat.

O ME, bring forth the prifoners.

C Riv. Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this,

To day fhalt thou behold a fubject die
For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.

Gray. God keep the Prince from all the pack of you, A knot you are of damned blood-fuckers.

Vaugh. You live, that fhall cry woe for this here

after.

Rat. Difpatch; the limit of your lives is out. Riv. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prifon, Fatal and ominous to noble peers!

Within the guilty closure of thy walls

Richard the Second, here, was hack'd to death:
And, for more flander to thy difmal feat,
We give to thee our guiltless blood to drink.
Gray. Now Margret's curfe is fall'n upon our heads,
When the exclaim'd on Haftings, you, and I,
For ftanding by when Richard stabb'd her fon.
Riv. Then curs'd fhe Richard, curs'd fhe Buckingham,
Then curs'd fhe Haftings. O remember, God!
To hear her prayer for them, as now for us:
As for my filter and her princely fons,
Be fatisfy'd, dear God, with our true blood:
Which, as thou know'ft, unjustly must be fpilt.

Rat. Make hafte, the hour of death is now expir'd.
Riv. Come, Gray; come, Vaughan; let us all em-

brace;

Farewel, until we meet again in heaven.

[Exeunt.

SCENE