King Richard III

GLOUCESTER. Good morrow to my sovereign king and Queen; And, princely peers, a happy time of day! KING EDWARD. Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. GLOUCESTER. A blessed labour, my most sovereign lord. Among this princely heap, if any here, By false intelligence or wrong surmise, Hold me a foe- If I unwittingly, or in my rage, Have aught committed that is hardly borne To any in this presence, I desire To reconcile me to his friendly peace: 'Tis death to me to be at enmity; I hate it, and desire all good men's love. First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, Which I will purchase with my duteous service; Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, If ever any grudge were lodg'd between us; Of you, and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset, That all without desert have frown'd on me; Of you, Lord Woodville, and, Lord Scales, of you; Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen-indeed, of all. I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds More than the infant that is born to-night. I thank my God for my humility. QUEEN ELIZABETH. A holy day shall this be kept hereafter. I would to God all strifes were well compounded. My sovereign lord, I do beseech your Highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace. GLOUCESTER. Why, madam, have I off'red love for this, To be so flouted in this royal presence? Who knows not that the gentle Duke is dead? [They all start] You do him injury to scorn his corse. KING EDWARD. Who knows not he is dead! Who knows he is? QUEEN ELIZABETH. All-seeing heaven, what a world is this! BUCKINGHAM. Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? DORSET. Ay, my good lord; and no man in the presence But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. KING EDWARD. Is Clarence dead? The order was revers'd. GLOUCESTER. But he, poor man, by your first order died, And that a winged Mercury did bear; Some tardy cripple bare the countermand That came too lag to see him buried. God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, Nearer in bloody thoughts, an not in blood, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, And yet go current from suspicion! Enter DERBY DERBY. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! KING EDWARD. I prithee, peace; my soul is full of sorrow. DERBY. I Will not rise unless your Highness hear me. KING EDWARD. Then say at once what is it thou requests. DERBY. The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; Who slew to-day a riotous gentleman Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. KING EDWARD. Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave? My brother killed no man-his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him? Who, in my wrath, Kneel'd at my feet, and bid me be advis'd? Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake The mighty Warwick and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field at Tewksbury When Oxford had me down, he rescued me And said 'Dear Brother, live, and be a king'? Who told me, when we both lay in the field Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his garments, and did give himself, All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you Had so much race to put it in my mind. But when your carters or your waiting-vassals Have done a drunken slaughter and defac'd The precious image of our dear Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. [DERBY rises] But for my brother not a man would speak; Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all Have been beholding to him in his life; Yet none of you would once beg for his life. O God, I fear thy justice will take hold On me, and you, and mine, and yours, for this! Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Ah, poor Clarence! Exeunt some with KING and QUEEN GLOUCESTER. This is the fruits of rashness. Mark'd you not How that the guilty kindred of the Queen Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? O, they did urge it still unto the King! God will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go To comfort Edward with our company? BUCKINGHAM. We wait upon your Grace. Exeunt SCENE 2. London. The palace Enter the old DUCHESS OF YORK, with the SON and DAUGHTER of CLARENCE SON. Good grandam, tell us, is our father dead? DUCHESS. No, boy. DAUGHTER. Why do you weep so oft, and beat your breast, And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'? SON. Why do you look on us, and shake your head, And call us orphans, wretches, castaways, If that our noble father were alive? DUCHESS. My pretty cousins, you mistake me both; I do lament the sickness of the King, As loath to lose him, not your father's death; It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. SON. Then you conclude, my grandam, he is dead. The King mine uncle is to blame for it. God will revenge it; whom I will importune With earnest prayers all to that effect. DAUGHTER. And so will I. DUCHESS. Peace, children, peace! The King doth love you well. Incapable and shallow innocents, You cannot guess who caus'd your father's death. SON. Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester Told me the King, provok'd to it by the Queen, Devis'd impeachments to imprison him. And when my uncle told me so, he wept, And pitied me, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; Bade me rely on him as on my father, And he would love me dearly as a child. DUCHESS. Ah, that deceit should steal such gentle shape, And with a virtuous vizor hide deep vice! He is my son; ay, and therein my shame; Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. SON. Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? DUCHESS. Ay, boy. SON. I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS and DORSET after her QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ah, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, To chide my fortune, and torment myself? I'll join with black despair against my soul And to myself become an enemy. DUCHESS. What means this scene of rude impatience? QUEEN ELIZABETH. To make an act of tragic violence. EDWARD, my lord, thy son, our king, is dead. Why grow the branches when the root is gone? Why wither not the leaves that want their sap? If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, That our swift-winged souls may catch the King's, Or like obedient subjects follow him To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night. DUCHESS. Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow As I had title in thy noble husband! I have bewept a worthy husband's death, And liv'd with looking on his images; But now two mirrors of his princely semblance Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, And I for comfort have but one false glass, That grieves me when I see my shame in him. Thou art a widow, yet thou art a mother And hast the comfort of thy children left; But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble hands- Clarence and Edward. O, what cause have I- Thine being but a moiety of my moan- To overgo thy woes and drown thy cries? SON. Ah, aunt, you wept not for our father's death! How can we aid you with our kindred tears? DAUGHTER. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! QUEEN ELIZABETH. Give me no help in lamentation; I am not barren to bring forth complaints. All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! Ah for my husband, for my dear Lord Edward! CHILDREN. Ah for our father, for our dear Lord Clarence! DUCHESS. Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! QUEEN ELIZABETH. What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. CHILDREN. What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. DUCHESS. What stays had I but they? and they are gone. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Was never widow had so dear a loss. CHILDREN. Were never orphans had so dear a loss. DUCHESS. Was never mother had so dear a loss. Alas, I am the mother of these griefs! Their woes are parcell'd, mine is general. She for an Edward weeps, and so do I: I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she. These babes for Clarence weep, and so do I: I for an Edward weep, so do not they. Alas, you three on me, threefold distress'd, Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, And I will pamper it with lamentation. DORSET. Comfort, dear mother. God is much displeas'd That you take with unthankfulness his doing. In common worldly things 'tis called ungrateful With dull unwillingness to repay a debt Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, For it requires the royal debt it lent you. RIVERS. Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, Of the young prince your son. Send straight for him; Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives. Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF GLOUCESTER. Sister, have comfort. All of us have cause To wail the dimming of our shining star; But none can help our harms by wailing them. Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; I did not see your Grace. Humbly on my knee I crave your blessing. DUCHESS. God bless thee; and put meekness in thy breast, Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! GLOUCESTER. Amen! [Aside] And make me die a good old man! That is the butt end of a mother's blessing; I marvel that her Grace did leave it out. BUCKINGHAM. You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers, That bear this heavy mutual load of moan, Now cheer each other in each other's love. Though we have spent our harvest of this king, We are to reap the harvest of his son. The broken rancour of your high-swol'n hearts, But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, Must gently be preserv'd, cherish'd, and kept. Me seemeth good that, with some little train, Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fet Hither to London, to be crown'd our King. RIVERS. Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham? BUCKINGHAM. Marry, my lord, lest by a multitude The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, Which would be so much the more dangerous By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd; Where every horse bears his commanding rein And may direct his course as please himself, As well the fear of harm as harm apparent, In my opinion, ought to be prevented. GLOUCESTER. I hope the King made peace with all of us; And the compact is firm and true in me. RIVERS. And so in me; and so, I think, in an. Yet, since it is but green, it should be put To no apparent likelihood of breach, Which haply by much company might be urg'd; Therefore I say with noble Buckingham That it is meet so few should fetch the Prince. HASTINGS. And so say I. GLOUCESTER. Then be it so; and go we to determine Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. Madam, and you, my sister, will you go To give your censures in this business? Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER BUCKINGHAM. My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, For God sake, let not us two stay at home; For by the way I'll sort occasion, As index to the story we late talk'd of, To part the Queen's proud kindred from the Prince. GLOUCESTER. My other self, my counsel's consistory, My oracle, my prophet, my dear cousin, I, as a child, will go by thy direction. Toward Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. Exeunt SCENE 3. London. A street Enter one CITIZEN at one door, and another at the other FIRST CITIZEN. Good morrow, neighbour. Whither away so fast? SECOND CITIZEN. I promise you, I scarcely know myself. Hear you the news abroad? FIRST CITIZEN. Yes, that the King is dead. SECOND CITIZEN. Ill news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better. I fear, I fear 'twill prove a giddy world. Enter another CITIZEN THIRD CITIZEN. Neighbours, God speed! FIRST CITIZEN. Give you good morrow, sir. THIRD CITIZEN. Doth the news hold of good King Edward's death? SECOND CITIZEN. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! THIRD CITIZEN. Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. FIRST CITIZEN. No, no; by God's good grace, his son shall reign. THIRD CITIZEN. Woe to that land that's govern'd by a child. SECOND CITIZEN. In him there is a hope of government, Which, in his nonage, council under him, And, in his full and ripened years, himself, No doubt, shall then, and till then, govern well. FIRST CITIZEN. So stood the state when Henry the Sixth Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. THIRD CITIZEN. Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot; For then this land was famously enrich'd With politic grave counsel; then the King Had virtuous uncles to protect his Grace. FIRST CITIZEN. Why, so hath this, both by his father and mother. THIRD CITIZEN. Better it were they all came by his father, Or by his father there were none at all; For emulation who shall now be nearest Will touch us all too near, if God prevent not. O, full of danger is the Duke of Gloucester! And the Queen's sons and brothers haught and proud; And were they to be rul'd, and not to rule, This sickly land might solace as before. FIRST CITIZEN. Come, come, we fear the worst; all will be well. THIRD CITIZEN. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth. All may be well; but, if God sort it so, 'Tis more than we deserve or I expect. SECOND CITIZEN. Truly, the hearts of men are fun of fear. You cannot reason almost with a man That looks not heavily and fun of dread. THIRD CITIZEN. Before the days of change, still is it so; By a divine instinct men's minds mistrust Ensuing danger; as by proof we see The water swell before a boist'rous storm. But leave it all to God. Whither away? SECOND CITIZEN. Marry, we were sent for to the justices. THIRD CITIZEN. And so was I; I'll bear you company. Exeunt SCENE 4. London. The palace Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the young DUKE OF YORK, QUEEN ELIZABETH, and the DUCHESS OF YORK ARCHBISHOP. Last night, I hear, they lay at Stony Stratford, And at Northampton they do rest to-night; To-morrow or next day they will be here. DUCHESS. I long with all my heart to see the Prince. I hope he is much grown since last I saw him. QUEEN ELIZABETH. But I hear no; they say my son of York Has almost overta'en him in his growth. YORK. Ay, mother; but I would not have it so. DUCHESS. Why, my good cousin, it is good to grow. YORK. Grandam, one night as we did sit at supper, My uncle Rivers talk'd how I did grow More than my brother. 'Ay,' quoth my uncle Gloucester 'Small herbs have grace: great weeds do grow apace.' And since, methinks, I would not grow so fast, Because sweet flow'rs are slow and weeds make haste. DUCHESS. Good faith, good faith, the saying did not hold In him that did object the same to thee. He was the wretched'st thing when he was young, So long a-growing and so leisurely That, if his rule were true, he should be gracious. ARCHBISHOP. And so no doubt he is, my gracious madam. DUCHESS. I hope he is; but yet let mothers doubt. YORK. Now, by my troth, if I had been rememb'red, I could have given my uncle's Grace a flout To touch his growth nearer than he touch'd mine. DUCHESS. How, my young York? I prithee let me hear it. YORK. Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old. 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. Grandam, this would have been a biting jest. DUCHESS. I prithee, pretty York, who told thee this? YORK. Grandam, his nurse. DUCHESS. His nurse! Why she was dead ere thou wast born. YORK. If 'twere not she, I cannot tell who told me. QUEEN ELIZABETH. A parlous boy! Go to, you are too shrewd. ARCHBISHOP. Good madam, be not angry with the child. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Pitchers have ears. Enter a MESSENGER ARCHBISHOP. Here comes a messenger. What news? MESSENGER. Such news, my lord, as grieves me to report. QUEEN ELIZABETH. How doth the Prince? MESSENGER. Well, madam, and in health. DUCHESS. What is thy news? MESSENGER. Lord Rivers and Lord Grey Are sent to Pomfret, and with them Sir Thomas Vaughan, prisoners. DUCHESS. Who hath committed them? MESSENGER. The mighty Dukes, Gloucester and Buckingham. ARCHBISHOP. For what offence? MESSENGER. The sum of all I can, I have disclos'd. Why or for what the nobles were committed Is all unknown to me, my gracious lord. QUEEN ELIZABETH. Ay me, I see the ruin of my house! The tiger now hath seiz'd the gentle hind; Insulting tyranny begins to jet Upon the innocent and aweless throne. Welcome, destruction, blood, and massacre! I see, as in a map, the end of all. DUCHESS. Accursed and unquiet wrangling days, How many of you have mine eyes beheld! My husband lost his life to get the crown; And often up and down my sons were toss'd For me to joy and weep their gain and loss; And being seated, and domestic broils Clean over-blown, themselves the conquerors Make war upon themselves-brother to brother, Blood to blood, self against self. O, preposterous And frantic outrage, end thy damned spleen, Or let me die, to look on death no more! QUEEN ELIZABETH. Come, come, my boy; we will to sanctuary. Madam, farewell. DUCHESS. Stay, I will go with you. QUEEN ELIZABETH. You have no cause. ARCHBISHOP. [To the QUEEN] My gracious lady, go. And thither bear your treasure and your goods. For my part, I'll resign unto your Grace The seal I keep; and so betide to me As well I tender you and all of yours! Go, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary. Exeunt <> ACT III. SCENE 1. London. A street The trumpets sound. Enter the PRINCE OF WALES, GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, CATESBY, CARDINAL BOURCHIER, and others BUCKINGHAM. Welcome, sweet Prince, to London, to your chamber. GLOUCESTER. Welcome, dear cousin, my thoughts' sovereign. The weary way hath made you melancholy. PRINCE. No, uncle; but our crosses on the way Have made it tedious, wearisome, and heavy. I want more uncles here to welcome me. GLOUCESTER. Sweet Prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit; Nor more can you distinguish of a man Than of his outward show; which, God He knows, Seldom or never jumpeth with the heart. Those uncles which you want were dangerous; Your Grace attended to their sug'red words But look'd not on the poison of their hearts. God keep you from them and from such false friends! PRINCE. God keep me from false friends! but they were none. GLOUCESTER. My lord, the Mayor of London comes to greet you. Enter the LORD MAYOR and his train MAYOR. God bless your Grace with health and happy days! PRINCE. I thank you, good my lord, and thank you all. I thought my mother and my brother York Would long ere this have met us on the way. Fie, what a slug is Hastings, that he comes not To tell us whether they will come or no! Enter LORD HASTINGS BUCKINGHAM. And, in good time, here comes the sweating Lord. PRINCE. Welcome, my lord. What, will our mother come? HASTINGS. 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. BUCKINGHAM. Fie, what an indirect and peevish course Is this of hers? Lord Cardinal, will your Grace Persuade the Queen to send the Duke of York Unto his princely brother presently? If she deny, Lord Hastings, go with him And from her jealous arms pluck him perforce. CARDINAL. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory Can from his mother win the Duke of York, Anon expect him here; but if she be obdurate To mild entreaties, God in heaven forbid We should infringe the holy privilege Of blessed sanctuary! Not for all this land Would I be guilty of so deep a sin. BUCKINGHAM. You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord, Too ceremonious and traditional. Weigh it but with the grossness of this age, You break not sanctuary in seizing him. The benefit thereof is always granted To those whose dealings have deserv'd the place And those who have the wit to claim the place. This Prince hath neither claim'd it nor deserv'd it, And therefore, in mine opinion, cannot have it. Then, taking him from thence that is not there, You break no privilege nor charter there. Oft have I heard of sanctuary men; But sanctuary children never till now. CARDINAL. My lord, you shall o'errule my mind for once. Come on, Lord Hastings, will you go with me? HASTINGS. I go, my lord. PRINCE. Good lords, make all the speedy haste you may. Exeunt CARDINAL and HASTINGS Say, uncle Gloucester, if our brother come, Where shall we sojourn till our coronation? GLOUCESTER. Where it seems best unto your royal self. If I may counsel you, some day or two Your Highness shall repose you at the Tower, Then where you please and shall be thought most fit For your best health and recreation. PRINCE. I do not like the Tower, of any place. Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord? BUCKINGHAM. He did, my gracious lord, begin that place, Which, since, succeeding ages have re-edified. PRINCE. Is it upon record, or else reported Successively from age to age, he built it? BUCKINGHAM. Upon record, my gracious lord. PRINCE. But say, my lord, it were not regist'red, Methinks the truth should Eve from age to age, As 'twere retail'd to all posterity, Even to the general all-ending day. GLOUCESTER. [Aside] So wise so young, they say, do never live long. PRINCE. What say you, uncle? GLOUCESTER. I say, without characters, fame lives long. [Aside] Thus, like the formal vice, Iniquity, I moralize two meanings in one word. PRINCE. That Julius Caesar was a famous man; With what his valour did enrich his wit, His wit set down to make his valour live. Death makes no conquest of this conqueror; For now he lives in fame, though not in life. I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham- BUCKINGHAM. What, my gracious lord? PRINCE. An if I live until I be a man, I'll win our ancient right in France again, Or die a soldier as I liv'd a king. GLOUCESTER. [Aside] Short summers lightly have a forward spring. Enter HASTINGS, young YORK, and the CARDINAL BUCKINGHAM. Now, in good time, here comes the Duke of York. PRINCE. Richard of York, how fares our loving brother? YORK. Well, my dread lord; so must I can you now. PRINCE. Ay brother, to our grief, as it is yours. Too late he died that might have kept that title, Which by his death hath lost much majesty. GLOUCESTER. How fares our cousin, noble Lord of York? YORK. I thank you, gentle uncle. O, my lord, You said that idle weeds are fast in growth. The Prince my brother hath outgrown me far. GLOUCESTER. He hath, my lord. YORK. And therefore is he idle? GLOUCESTER. O, my fair cousin, I must not say so. YORK. Then he is more beholding to you than I. GLOUCESTER. He may command me as my sovereign; But you have power in me as in a kinsman. YORK. I pray you, uncle, give me this dagger. GLOUCESTER. My dagger, little cousin? With all my heart! PRINCE. A beggar, brother? YORK. Of my kind uncle, that I know will give, And being but a toy, which is no grief to give. GLOUCESTER. A greater gift than that I'll give my cousin. YORK. A greater gift! O, that's the sword to it! GLOUCESTER. Ay, gentle cousin, were it light enough. YORK. O, then, I see you will part but with light gifts: In weightier things you'll say a beggar nay. GLOUCESTER. It is too heavy for your Grace to wear. YORK. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier. GLOUCESTER. What, would you have my weapon, little Lord? YORK. I would, that I might thank you as you call me. GLOUCESTER. How? YORK. Little. PRINCE. My Lord of York will still be cross in talk. Uncle, your Grace knows how to bear with him. YORK. You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me. Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me; Because that I am little, like an ape, He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. BUCKINGHAM. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons! To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle He prettily and aptly taunts himself. So cunning and so young is wonderful. GLOUCESTER. My lord, will't please you pass along? Myself and my good cousin Buckingham Will to your mother, to entreat of her To meet you at the Tower and welcome you. YORK. What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord? PRINCE. My Lord Protector needs will have it so. YORK. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower. GLOUCESTER. Why, what should you fear? YORK. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost. My grandam told me he was murder'd there. PRINCE. I fear no uncles dead. GLOUCESTER. Nor none that live, I hope. PRINCE. An if they live, I hope I need not fear. But come, my lord; and with a heavy heart, Thinking on them, go I unto the Tower. A sennet. Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, and CATESBY BUCKINGHAM. Think you, my lord, this little prating York Was not incensed by his subtle mother To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously? GLOUCESTER. No doubt, no doubt. O, 'tis a perilous boy; Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable. He is all the mother's, from the top to toe. BUCKINGHAM. Well, let them rest. Come hither, Catesby. Thou art sworn as deeply to effect what we intend As closely to conceal what we impart. Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way. What think'st thou? Is it not an easy matter To make William Lord Hastings of our mind, For the instalment of this noble Duke In the seat royal of this famous isle? CATESBY. He for his father's sake so loves the Prince That he will not be won to aught against him. BUCKINGHAM. What think'st thou then of Stanley? Will not he? CATESBY. He will do all in all as Hastings doth. BUCKINGHAM. Well then, no more but this: go, gentle Catesby, And, as it were far off, sound thou Lord Hastings How he doth stand affected to our purpose; And summon him to-morrow to the Tower, To sit about the coronation. If thou dost find him tractable to us, Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons; If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling, Be thou so too, and so break off the talk, And give us notice of his inclination; For we to-morrow hold divided councils, Wherein thyself shalt highly be employ'd. GLOUCESTER. Commend me to Lord William. Tell him, Catesby, His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret Castle; And bid my lord, for joy of this good news, Give Mistress Shore one gentle kiss the more. BUCKINGHAM. Good Catesby, go effect this business soundly. CATESBY. My good lords both, with all the heed I can. GLOUCESTER. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep? CATESBY. You shall, my lord. GLOUCESTER. At Crosby House, there shall you find us both. Exit CATESBY BUCKINGHAM. Now, my lord, what shall we do if we perceive Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots? GLOUCESTER. Chop off his head-something we will determine. And, look when I am King, claim thou of me The earldom of Hereford and all the movables Whereof the King my brother was possess'd. BUCKINGHAM. I'll claim that promise at your Grace's hand. GLOUCESTER. And look to have it yielded with all kindness. Come, let us sup betimes, that afterwards We may digest our complots in some form. Exeunt