This fudden ftab of Rancor I misdoubt,

Pray God, I fay, I prove a needlefs Coward.

What, fhall we toward the Tower? the Day is spent.
Haft. Come, come, have with you:

Wot he what, my Lord,

To day, the Lords you talk of are beheaded.

Stan. They for theirTruth, might better wear their Heads, Than fome that have accus'd them wear their Hats.But come, my Lord, let's away.

Enter a Purfuivant..

Haft. Go on before, I'll talk with this good Fellow.
[Exeunt Lord Stanley and Catesby.
How now, Sirrah? how goes the World with thee?
Purf. The better, that your Lordship please to ask.
Haft. I tell thee Man, 'tis better with me now,
Than when thou met'it me laft where now we meet;
Then was I going Prifoner to the Tower,
By the Suggeftion of the Queen's Allies.
But now I tell thee, keep it to thy felf,
This Day those Enemies are put to Death,
And I in better State than e'er I was.

Puf. God hold it to your Honour's good Content.
Haft. Gramercy Fellow; there drink that for me,

[Throws him his Purse.

[Exit Purfuivant.

Enter a Prieft.

Prieft. Well met, my Lord, I am glad to fee your Honour. Haft. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my Heart, I am in your debt for your last Exercise:

Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.
Prieft. I'll wait upon your Lord fhip.

Enter Buckingham.

Buck. What, talking with a Priest, Lord Chamberlain? Your Friends at Pomfret, they do need the 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 toward the Tower?

Buk. I do, my Lord, but long I cannot stay there: I shall return before your Lordship thence.

C4

Haft

Haft. Nay, like enough, for I'll stay Dinner there. Buck. And Supper too, altho' thou know'ft it not. Come, will you go?

Haft. I'll wait upon your Lordship.

SCENE III.

[Afide.

[Exeunt.

Enter Sir Richard Ratcliff, with Halberds, carrying the Nobles to Death at Pomfret.

Riv, Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this, To day fhalt thou behold a Subject die

For Truth, for Duty, and for Loyalty.

Gray. God bless the Prince from all the pack of you, A Knot you are of damned Blood-fuckers.

Vaugh. You live that fhall cry wo for this hereafter.
Rat. Difpatch, the limit of your Lives is out.
Riv. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody Prison!
Fatal and ominous to Noble Peers.

Within the guilty closure of thy Walls

Richard the Second here was hackt to Death:
And for more flander to thy difmal Seat,
We give to thee our guiltlefs Blood to drink.

Gray. Now Margaret's Curfe is faln upon our Heads,
When the exclaim'd on Hastings, you and 1,
For ftanding by, when Richard ftab'd her Son.
Riv. Then curs'd fhe Richard,

Then curs'd the Buckingham,

Then curs'd fhe Haftings.

O remember God

To hear her Prayer for them, as now for us:
As for my Sifter and her Princely Sons,
Be fatisfy'd, dear God, with our true Blood,
Which, as thou know'ft, unjustly must be spilt.

Rat. Make hafte, the hour of Deach is now expir'd. Riv. Come Gray, come Vaughan, let us here embrace; Farewel, until we meet again in Heaven.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE IV.

Enter Buckingham, Derby, Haftings, Bishop of Ely, Nor-
folk, Ratcliff, Lovel, with others, at a Table.
Haft. Now Noble Peers, the cause why we are met
Is to determine of the Coronation:

In God's Name fpeak, 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. YourGrace, we think, fhould fooneft 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 Haftings, you and he are near in Love.

Haft. I thank his Grace, I know he loves me well: But for his purpose in the Coronation,

I have not founded him, nor he deliver'd
His gracious pleafure 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 prefume he'll take in gentle part.

Enter Gloucefter.

Ely. In happy time here comes the Duke himself. Glo. Ny Noble Lords and Coufins all, good morrow; I have been a long fleeper; but I trust

My abfence doth neglect no great defign,

Which by my prefence might have been concluded.
Buck. Had you not come upon your Cue, my Lord,
William Lord Haftings had pronounc'd your part,
I mean your Voice for crowning of the King.

Glo. Than my Lord Haflings no Man might be bolder,
His Lordship knows me well, and loves me well.
My Lord of Ely, when I was laft in Holbourn,
I faw good Strawberries in your Garden there,
I do befcech you fend for fome of them.

Ely.

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

Glo. Coufin of Buckingham, a word with you.
Catesby hath founded Haftings in our Business,
And finds the tefty Gentleman fo hot,
That he will lofe his Head ere give consent
His Mafter's Child, as worshipfully he terms it,
Shall lofe the Royalty of England's Throne.

Buck. Withdraw your felf a while, I'll go with you.

[Exeunt. Derby. We have not yet fet down this Day of Triumph: To-Morrow, in my Judgment, is too fudden,

For I my felf am not fo well provided,
As elfe I would be were the Day prolong'.
Enter Bishop of Ely.

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

Haft. His Grace looks chearfully and smooth this Morning, There's fome Conceit or other likes him well

When that he bids Good-morrow with fuch Spirit.
I think there's never a Man in Christendom

Can leffer hide his Love or Hate than he,

For by his Face ftraight fhall you know his Heart.
Derby. What of his Heart perceive you in his Face,
By any livelihood he fhew'd to Day?

Haft. Marry that with no Man here he is offended:
For were he, he had fhewn it in his Looks.

Enter Gloucester and Buckingham.

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

Haft. The tender love I bear your Grace, my Lord,
Makes me moft forward in this Princely prefence,
To doom th' Offenders, whofoe'er they be:
I fay, my Lord, they have deferved Death.

Glo. Then be your Eyes the witness of their Evil,
Look how I am bewitch'd; behold mine Arm
Is like a blafted Sapling wither'd up:

And this is Edward's Wife, that monftrous Witch

Con

Conforted with that Harlot, Strumpet Shore,

That by their Witchcraft thus have marked me.

Haft. 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 TraitorOff with his Head—now by Saint Paul I swear, I will not dine until I fee the fame. Lovel and Ratcliff look that it be done: The reft that love me, rife and follow me.

[Exeunt.

Manent Lovel and Ratcliff, with the Lord Haftings.
Haft. Wo, wo for England, not a whit for me,
For 1, too fond, might have prevented this:
Stanly did dream the Boar did rafe our Helms,
And I did fcorn 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 loth to bear me to the Slaughter-house.
O now I need the Prieft that fpake to me:
I now repent I told the Purfuivant,
As too triumphing, how mine Enemies
To day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher'd,
And I my felf fecure in Grace and Favour.
Oh Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy Curfe
Is lighted on poor Hastings wretched Head.

Rat. Come, come, difpatch, the Duke would be at dinner. Make a fhort Shrift, he longs to fee your Head.

Haft. 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 Maft,

Ready with every nod to tumble down

Into the fatal Bowels of the Deep.

Lov. Come, come, dispatch, 'tis bootless to exclaim. -
Haft. Oh bloody Richard, miferable England,

I prophefic the fearful'ft 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 fhall be dead.

[Exeunt.

Enter