Prince. That Julius Cæfar was a famous man ;
With what his valour did enrich his wit,
His wit fet down to make his valour live:
Death makes no conqueft of this conqueror;
For now he lives in fame, though not in life.
I'll tell you what, my coufin Buckingham.
Buck. 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 foldier, as I liv'd a King.

Glo. Short fummer lightly has a forward spring.

Enter York, Haftings, and Archbishop.

Buck. Now in good time here comes the Duke of York.
Prince. Richard of York, how fares our noble brother?
York. Well, my dread Lord, fo must I call you now.
Prince. Ay, brother, to our grief, as it is yours;
Too late he dy'd that might have kept that title,
Which by his death hath loft much Majefty.

Glo. How fares our Coufin, noble Lord of York?
York. I thank you, gentle Uncle. O my Lord,
You faid, that idle weeds are faft in growth:
The Prince my brother hath outgrown me far.
Glo. He hath, my Lord.

York. And therefore is he idle?

Glo. Oh, my fair Coufin, I must not say so. York. Then is he more beholden to you than I. Glo. He may command me as my Sovereign, But you have pow'r in me, as in a kinfman.

York. I pray you, Uncle, give me this your dagger. Glo. My dagger, little coufin? with all my heart. Prince. A beggar, brother?

York. Of my kind Uncle, that I know will give;
And being a toy, it is no grief to give.

Glo. A greater gift than that I'll give my coufin.
York. A greater gift? O, that's the fword to it.

And thus I cloath my naked Villany

With old odd Ends, ftoln forth of holy Writ;
And feem a Saint, when mot I play the Devil.

Gla

Glo. Ay, gentle Coufin, were it light enough.
York. O, then I fee, you'll part but with light gifts;
In weightier things you'll fay a beggar nay.

Glo. It is too weighty for your Grace to wear.
York. I weigh it lightly, were it heavier.

Glo. What, would you have my weapon, little Lord ?
York. I would, that I might thank you, as you call me.
Glo. 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 fhoulders.
Buck. With what a fharp-provided wit he reasons!
To mitigate the fcorn he gives his Uncle,
He prettily and aptly taunts himself;

So cunning, and fo young, is wonderful.
Glo. My Lord, will't please you pass along?
Myfelf, and my good coufin Buckingham
Will to your mother, to intreat 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 fhall not fleep in quiet at the Tower.
Glo. Why, what fhould you fear?
York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghoft:
My Grandam told me, he was murther'd there.
Prince. I fear no Uncles dead.

Glo. 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.

[Exeunt Prince, York, Haftings and Dorfet. Manent Gloucefter, Buckingham and Catesby. Buck. Think you, my Lord, this little prating York

Was not incenfed by his fubtle mother,

To taunt and fcorn you thus opprobriously?

Gle.

Glo. No doubt, no doubt: oh, 'tis a per❜lous boy, Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable;

He's all the mother's, from the top to toe.

Buck. Well, let them reft: come, Catesby, thou art fworn

As deeply to effect what we intend,

As clofely to conceal what we impart :

Thou know'ft our reasons urg'd upon the way;
What think'ft thou? is it not an eafie matter
To make Lord William Haftings of our mind,
For the inftalment of this noble Duke
In the feat royal of this famous Ifle?

Catef. He for his father's fake fo loves the Prince,
That he will not be won to aught against him.

Buck. What think'ft thou then of Stanley? will not he?

Catef. He will do all in all as Haftings doth.

Buck. Well then, no more than this: go, gentle
Catesby,

And, as it were far off, found thou Lord Haftings,
How he doth ftand affected to our purpose ;
And fummon him to morrow to the Tower,
To fit about the Coronation.

If thou doft find him tractable to us,
Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons :
If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling,
Be thou fo too; and fo break off the talk,
And give us notice of his inclination :
For we to morrow hold divided councils,
Wherein thyself fhalt highly be employ'd.

Glo. 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 friend, for joy of this good news,
Give mistress Shore one gentle kifs the more.

Buck. Good Catesby, go, effect this bufinefs foundly. Catef. My good Lords both, with all the heed I can. Glo. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep? Cates. You fhall, my Lord.

VOL. V.

L

Glo.

Gla. At Crosby-place, there you fhall find us both.

[Ex. Cat. Buck. My Lord, what fhall we do, if we perceive, Lord Haftings will not yield to our complots ?

Glo. Chop off his head, man; fomewhat we will do ; And look, when I am King, claim thou of me The Earldom of Hereford, and the moveables Whereof the King, my brother, ftood poffeft. Buck. I'll claim that promife at your Grace's hand. Glo. And look to have it yielded with all kindness. Come, let us fup betimes; that, afterwards, We may digeft our complots in fome form.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, before Lord Haftings's House.

Enter a Meffenger to the door of Haftings.

Y Lord, my Lord..

Mes MY

Haft. [within.] Who knocks?

Mef. One from Lord Stanley.

Haft. What is't o'clock ?

Mef. Upon the ftroak of four.

Enter Lord Haftings.

Haft. Cannot thy mafter fleep thefe tedious nights? Mef. So it appears by what I have to fay: First, he commends him to your noble self. Haft. What then?

Mef. Then certifies your Lordfhip, that this night He dreamt the Boar had rafed off his helm: Befides, he fays, there are two Councils held; And That may be determin'd at the one, Which may make you and him to rue at th' other. Therefore he fends to know your Lordship's pleasure, If you will presently take horfe with him, And with all speed poft with him tow'rds the north; To fhun the danger that his foul divines. Haft. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy Lord, Bid him not fear the feparated Councils: His honour, and myself, are at the one;

And,

And, at the other, is my good friend Catesby;
Where nothing can proceed, that toucheth us,
Whereof I shall not have intelligence:

Tell him, his fears are fhallow, wanting inftance;
And for his dreams, I wonder, he's fo fond
To truft the mock'ry of unquiet flumbers.
To fly the boar, before the boar purfues,
Were to incense the boar tó follow us;
And make purfuit, where he did mean no chase.
Go, bid thy mafter rife and come to me,
And we will both together to the Tower,
Where, he fhall fee, the boar will ufe us kindly.
Mef. I'll go, my Lord, and tell him what you say.

Catef. Many good morrows to my noble Lord! Haft. Good morrow, Catesby, you are early ftirring ; What news, what news, in this our tott'ring State? Cates. It is a reeling world, indeed, my Lord: And, I believe, will never ftand upright,

'Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.

Haft. How! wear the garland ? doft thou mean the

crown?

Catef. Ay, my good Lord.

Haft. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my fhoulders,

Before I'll fee the crown fo foul misplac'd.

But canft thou guess that he doth aim at it?

Catef Ay, on my life; and hopes to find you forward Upon his party, for the gain thereof:

And thereupon he fends you this good news,
That this fame very day your enemies,

The kindred of the Queen, muft die at Pomfret.
Haft. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
Because they have been ftill my adverfaries;
But that I'll give my voice on Richard's fide,
To bar my master's heirs in true defcent,
God knows, I will not do it, to the death.

Catef. God keep your Lordship in that gracious mind!

L 2

Haff.