O bloody Richard! miserable England!
I prophesy the fearful'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 that shortly shall be dead.

O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hopes 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.

Woe, woe for England! not a whit for me;
For I, too fond, might have prevented this.
Stanley did dream the boar did raze his helm;
But I disdain'd it, and did scorn to fly:
Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble,
And startled, when he look'd ...

If they have done this thing, my gracious lord--

The tender love I bear your grace, my lord,
Makes me most forward in this noble presence
To doom the offenders, whatsoever they be
I say, my lord, they have deserved death.

Marry, that with no man here he is offended;
For, were he, he had shown it in his looks.

His grace looks cheerfully and smooth to-day;
There's some conceit or other likes him well,
When he doth bid good morrow with such a spirit.
I think there's never a man in Christendom
That can less hide his love or hate than he;
For by his face straight ...

I thank your grace.

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 noble lords, may name the time;
And in the duke's behalf I'll give ...

My lords, at once: the cause why we are met
Is, to determine of the coronation.
In God's name, speak: when is the royal day?

I'll wait upon your lordship.

'Tis like enough, for I stay dinner there.

Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
Those men you talk of came into my mind.
What, go you toward the Tower?

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.

Gramercy, fellow: there, drink that for me.

I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now
Than when I met thee last where now we meet:
Then was I going prisoner to the Tower,
By the suggestion of the queen's allies;
But now, I tell thee--keep it to thyself--
This day those enemies are put to ...

Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow.
Exeunt STANLEY and CATESBY
How now, sirrah! how goes the world with thee?

Come, come, have with you. Wot you what, my lord?
To-day the lords you talk of are beheaded.

My lord,
I hold my life as dear as you do yours;
And never in my life, I do protest,
Was it more precious to me than 'tis now:
Think you, but that I know our state secure,
I would be so triumphant as I am?

I know they do; and I have well deserved it.
Enter STANLEY
Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man?
Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided?

O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it out
With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: and so 'twill do
With some men else, who think themselves as safe
As thou and I; who, as thou know'st, are dear
To princely Richard and to Buckingham.

Ere a fortnight make me elder,
I'll send some packing that yet think not on it.

But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,
That they who brought me in my master's hate
I live to look upon their tragedy.
I tell thee, Catesby--

Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
Because they have been still mine enemies:
But, that I'll give my voice on Richard's side,
To bar my master's heirs in true descent,
God knows I will not do it, to the death.

I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders
Ere I will see the crown so foul misplaced.
But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?

How! wear the garland! dost thou mean the crown?

Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring
What news, what news, in this our tottering state?

Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord;
Bid him not fear the separated councils
His honour and myself are at the one,
And at the other is my servant Catesby
Where nothing can proceed that toucheth us
Whereof I shall not have intelligence.
Tell him his fears are shallow, wanting ...

And then?

Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights?

What is't o'clock?

Within Who knocks at the door?

I go, my lord.

On what occasion, God he knows, not I,
The queen your mother, and your brother York,
Have taken sanctuary: the tender prince
Would fain have come with me to meet your grace,
But by his mother was perforce withheld.

And so say I.

And so swear I, my lord

So prosper I, as I swear perfect love!

So thrive I, as I truly swear the like!

My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses.

False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse,
Lest to thy harm thou move our patience.

O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,
And the most merciless that e'er was heard of!

He is.

No news so bad abroad as this at home;
The King is sickly, weak and melancholy,
And his physicians fear him mightily.

More pity that the eagle should be mew'd,
While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must:
But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks
That were the cause of my imprisonment.

Good time of day unto my gracious lord!