To bar my master's heirs in true descent,

God knows, I will not do it, to the death.

Cate. God keep your lordship in that gracious mind!
Haft. But I fhall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,-
That they, who brought me in my mafter's hate,
I live to look upon their tragedy.

Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older,
I'll fend fome packing, that yet think not on't.
Cate. 'Tis a vile thing to die, my gracious lord,
When men are unprepar'd, and look not for it.

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

Cate. The princes both make high account of you,-
[Afide.
Haft. I know, they do; and I have well deferv'd it.

For they account his head upon the bridge.

Enter STANLEY.

Come on, come on, where is your boar-spear, man? the boar, and go so unprovided?

Fear you

Stan. My lord, good morrow; and good morrow, Catefby:

You may jeft on, but by the holy rood,

I do not like these several councils, I.

Haft. My lord, I hold my life as dear as 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 fo triumphant as I am?

Stan. The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from Lon

don,

Were

Were jocund, and fuppos'd their states were sure,
And they, indeed, had no caufe to mistrust;
But yet, you fee, how foon the day o'er-cast.
This fudden ftab of rancour I mifdoubt;
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 you what,
my lord?

To-day the lords you talk of are beheaded.

Stan. They, for their truth, 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 STANLEY and CATESBY.

How now, firrah? 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'ft me laft where now we meet :
Then was I going prisoner to the Tower,
By the fuggeftion of the queen's allies;
But now, I tell thee, (keep it to thyself,)
This day those enemies are put to death,
And I in better state than ere I was.

Purf. God hold it, to your honour's good content!
Haft. Gramercy, fellow: There, drink that for me.
[Throwing him his purse.

Purf. I thank your honour.

[Exit Pursuivant.

Enter

Enter a Prieft.

Pr. Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour. Haft. I thank thee, good fir John, with all my heart. I am in your debt for your last exercise ;

Come the next fabbath, and I will content you.

Enter BUCKINGHAM.

Buck. What, talking with a priest, lord chamberlain?
Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest;
Your honour hath no thriving 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?

Buck. I do, my lord; but long I cannot stay there:
I shall return before your lordship thence.

Haft. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.
Buck. And fupper too, although thou know'ft it not.

Enter RATCLIFF, with a guard, conducting RIVERS, GREY,

and VAUGHAN, to execution.

Rat. Come, bring forth the prifoners.

Riv. Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this,

To-day

To-day fhalt thou behold a subject die,

For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.

Grey. God keep the prince from all the pack of you! A knot you are of damned blood-fuckers.

Vaugh. You live, that fhall cry woe for this hereafter. Rat. Defpatch; the limit of your lives is out.

Riv. O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, Fatal and ominous to noble peers!

Within the guilty clofure of thy walls,

Richard the fecond here was hack'd to death:
And, for more flander to thy dismal feat,

We give thee up our guiltless blood to drink.

Grey. Now Margaret's curfe is fallen upon our heads, When the exclaim'd on Haftings, you, and I,

For ftanding by when Richard stabb'd her fon.

Riv. Then curs'd fhe Haftings, then curs'd fhe Buck. ingham,

Then curs'd the Richard :-O, remember, God,
To hear her prayers for them, as now for us!
And for my fifter, and her princely fons,—
Be fatisfied, dear God, with our true bloods,
Which, as thou know'ft, unjustly must be spilt!
Rat. Make hafte, the hour of death is expiate.
Riv. Come, Grey,-come, Vaughan,-let us here em-

brace:

Farewell, until we meet again in heaven.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE IV.

London. A Room in the Tower.

BUCKINGHAM, STANLEY, HASTINGS, the Bishop of Ely, CATESBY, LOVEL, and Others, fitting at a table: Officers of the council attending.

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 that royal time?
Stan. They are; and wants but nomination.
Ely. To-morrow then I judge a happy day.

Buck. Who knows the lord protector's mind herein ? Who is moft inward with the noble duke?

Ely. Your grace, we think, fhould fooneft know his mind.

Buck. We know each other's faces: for our hearts,-He knows no more of mine, than I of yours;

Nor 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 pleasure any way therein :

But you, my noble 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 GLOSTER.

Ely. In happy time, here comes the duke himself.
Glo. My noble lords and coufins, all, good morrow :