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Daw. 'Tis a strange conceit, sir.

K. Hen. Such voluntary favours as our people
In dụty aid us with we never scatter'd
On cobweb parasites, or lavish'd out
In riot or a needless hospitality;
No undeserving favourite doth boast
His issues from our treasury; our charge
Flows through all Europe, proving us but steward
Of every contribution which provides
Against the creeping canker of disturbance.
Is it not rare, then, in this toil of state
Wherein we are embark'd, with breach of sleep,
Cares, and the noise of trouble, that our mercy
Returns nor thanks nor comfort? Still the West
Murmur and threaten innovation,
Whisper our government tyrannical,
Deny us what is ours, nay, spurn their lives,
of which they are but owners by our gift;
It must not be.
Oxf. It must not, should not.

Enter a Messenger.
K. Hen. So then-
To whom?

Mess. This packet to your sacred majesty.
K. Hen. Sirrah, attend without. [Exit Messa
Oxf. News from the North, upon my life.

Daw. Wise Henry
Divines aforehand of events; with him
Attempts and execution are one act.

K. Hen. Urswick, thine ear; Frion is caught! the
Of cunning is outreach'd; we must be safe.
Should reverend Morton, our archbishop, move
To a translation higher yet,' I tell thee,
My Durham owns a brain deserves that see.


To a translation higher yet,) i. e. to heaven. Morton was at this time Archbishop of Canterbury. He died about three years after this















Is thriving safety, and a wise prevention
Of ills expected. We are resolv'd for Salisbury.



The Coast of Cornwall. A general shout within.Enter WARBECK, DALYELL,

War. After so many storms as wind and seas
Have threaten’d to our weatherbeaten ships,
At last, sweet fairest, we are safe arrived
On our dear mother earth, ungrateful only
To heaven and us in yielding sustenance
To sly usurpers of our throne and right.
These general acclamations are an omen
Of happy process to their welcome lord:
They flock in troops, and from all parts, with wings
Of duty fly, to lay their hearts before us.
.Unequall'd pattern of a matchless wife,
How fares my dearest yet?

Kath. Confirm'd in health;
By which I may the better undergo
The roughest face of change; but I shall learn
Patience to hope, since silence courts affliction,
For comforts to this truly noble gentleman,
(Rare unexampled pattern of a friend !)
And my beloved Jane, the willing follower
Of all misfortunes.

Dal. Lady, I return
But barren crops of early protestations,
Frostbitten in the spring of fruitless hopes.

Jane. I wait but as the shadow to the body;
For, madam, without you let me be nothing.

War. None talk of sadness, we are on the way Which leads to victory: keep cowards thoughts With desperate sullenness! The lion faints not Lock'd in a grate, but, loose, disdains all force

Which bars his prey (and we are lion-hearted),
Or else no king of beasts.-[Another general shout

within.]-Hark, how they shout! Triumphant in our cause! bold confidence Marches on bravely, cannot quake at danger.

Enter SKETON. Sket. Save king Richard the Fourth! save thee, king of hearts! The Cornish blades are men of mettle; have proclaimed through Bodnam and the whole country my sweet prince monarch of England. Four thousand tall yeomen, with bow and sword, already vow to live and die at the foot of king Richard.

Enter ASTLEY. Ast. The mayor, our fellow-counsellor, is servant for an emperor. Exeter is appointed for the rendezvous, and nothing wants to victory but courage and resolution.

War. To Exeter! to Exeter, march on: Commend us to our people; we in person Will lend them double spirits; tell them so. Sket. and Ast. King Richard, king Richard !

[Exeunt Sket. and Ast. War. A thousand blessings guard our lawful

A thousand horrors pierce our enemies' souls !
Pale fear unedge their weapons' sharpest points,
And when they draw their arrows to the head,
Numbness shall strike their sinews! such advan-

Hath majesty in its pursuit of justice,
That on the proppers up of Truth's old throne,
It both enlightens counsel, and gives heart
To execution; while the throats of traitors
Lie bare before our mercy. O divinity
Df royal birth! how it strikes dumb the tongues
Whose prodigality of breath is bribed

By trains to greatness! Princes are but men,
Distinguish'd in the fineness of their frailty;
Yet not so gross in beauty of the mind;
For there's a fire more sacred, purifies
The dross of mixture. Herein stand the odds,
Subjects are men on earth, kings men and gods.


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St. Michael's Mount, Cornwall. Enter KATHERINE and JANE, in riding-suits, with one

Servant. Kath. It is decreed; and we must yield to fate, Whose angry justice, though it threaten ruin, Contempt, and poverty, is all but trial Of a weak woman's constancy in suffering. Here in a stranger's, and an enemy's land, Forsaken and unfurnish'd of all hopes, But such as wait on misery, I range To meet affliction wheresoe'er I tread. My train, and pomp of servants, is reduced To one kind gentlewoman, and this groom. Sweet Jane, now whither must we?

Jane. To your ships, Dear lady, and turn home.

Kath. Home! I have none. Fly thou to Scotland; thou hast friends will weep For joy to bid thee welcome ; but, oh Jane, My Jane! my friends are desperate of comfort, As I must be of them: the common charity, Good people's alms, and prayers of the gentle, Is the revenue must support my state.

1 St. Michael's Mount.] It appears that when Perkin marched on his ill-fated expedition, Lady Katherine was left at this place, from which she was now preparing to withdraw, on some rumours of her husband's want of success.-GIFFORD.

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