« PreviousContinue »
my conveyance next, of my life since, The means, and persons who were instruments, Great sir, 'tis fit I over-pass in silence; Reserving the relation to the secrecy Of
your own princely ear, since it concerns Some great ones living yet, and others dead, Whose issue might be question’d. For your
my protection. Cousin of York, thus once more we embrace thee; Welcome to James of Scotland! for thy safety, Know, such as love thee not shall never wrong
thee. Come, we will taste a while our court-delights, Dream hence afflictions past, and then proceed To high attempts of honour. On, lead on! Both thou and thine are ours, and we will guard you.
[Exeunt all but the ladies. Countess. I have not seen a gentleman Of a more brave aspect, or goodlier carriage;
His fortunes move not him—Madam, you are
passionate.* Kath. Beshrew me, but his words have touch'd
me home, As if his cause concern'd me; I should pity him, If he should prove another than he seems.
Enter CRAWFORD. Craw. Ladies, the king commands your pre
Kath. “ The duke"
Countess. We will all wait on him. [Exeunt.
London.-The Tower. A Flourish.--Enter King Henry, OXFORD, Dur
chamberlain? Dur. His treasons Condemn’d him, sir; which were as clear and
4 Madam, you are passionate.] i. e. distressed, deeply affected: the Countess had observed Katherine weeping.
K. Hen. Oh, lord bishop,
and the softness of our nature;
Dur. You may, you may ;
Oxf. By Vere's old honours,
Sur. 'Tis a quarrel To engage a soul in.
K. Hen. What a coil is here To keep my gratitude sincere and perfect! Stanley was once my friend,and came in time
Stanley was once my friend, &c.] Much of this is from the noble historian. The king certainly holds a very different language from that which we had in a former page ; but it is characteristic of his close, cold, and selfish nature. “ As a little leaven (Bacon
To save my life; yet, to say truth, my lords,
Dur. Sir, he is coming this way.
K. Hen. If he speak to me,
To his last peace, which, with him, I will
says) of new distaste doth commonly sour the whole lump of former merit, the king's wit began now to suggest unto his passion, that Stanley at Bosworth-field, though he came in time to save his life, yet he staid long enough to endanger it.” After all, the writer hints, as broadly as he dared, that Stanley's main guilt lay in his vast accumulations, which Henry viewed with too greedy an eye.
Sur. 'Tis a king
Dur. Rare and unheard of:
Enter STANLEY, Executioner, Confessor, URSWICK
and DAWBENEY. Stan. May I not speak with Clifford, ere I shake This piece of frailty off?
Daw. You shall; he's sent for.
Dur. From him, sir William,
Oxf. Without remembrance of your errors past, I come to take my leave, and wish you
heaven. Sur. And I; good angels guard you! Stan. Oh, the king, Next to my soul, shall be the nearest subject Of my last prayers. My grave lord of Durham, My lords of Oxford, Surrey, Dawbeney, all, Accept from a poor dying man a farewell. I was, as you are, once, great, and stood hopeful