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 most inward with the noble duke? Ely. Your grace, we think, should soonest know his mind. Buck. We know each other's faces: for our hearts, He knows no more of mine, than I of yours; I have not sounded him, nor he deliver'd Enter GLOSTER. Ely. In happy time, here comes the duke himself. Glo. My noble lords and cousins, all, good morrow: I have been long a sleeper; but, I trust, My absence doth neglect no great design, Glo. Than my lord Hastings, no man might be bolder; 6 Intimate. His lordship knows me well, and loves me well.— Catesby hath sounded Hastings in our business; That he will lose his head, ere give consent, As else I would be, were the day prolong'd. Re-enter Bishop of Ely. Ely. Where is my lord protector? I have sent For these strawberries. Hast. His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning; There's some conceit" or other likes him well, For by his face straight shall ye know his heart. Stan. What of his heart perceive you in his face, 7 Thoughts By any likelihood he show'd to-day? Hast. Marry, that with no man here he is of fended; For, were he, he had shown it in his looks. Re-enter GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM. Glo. I pray you all, tell me what they deserve, Hast. The tender love I bear your grace, my lord, Makes me most forward in this noble presence To doom the offenders: Whosoe'er they be, I say, my lord, they have deserved death. Glo. Then be your eyes the witness of their evil, Look how I am bewitch'd; behold mine arm Is, like a blasted sapling, wither'd up: And this is Edward's wife, that monstrous witch, Consorted with that harlot, strumpet Shore, That by their witchcraft thus have marked me. Hast. If they have done this deed, my noble lord, Glo. If! thou protector of this damned strumpet, Lovel, and Catesby, look, that it be done; [Exeunt Council, with GLOSTER and BUCK INGHAM. Hast. Woe, woe, for England! not a whit for me; For I, too fond,8 might have prevented this: Three times to-day my foot-cloth horse did stumble, Cate. Despatch, my lord, the duke would be at dinner; Make a short shrift, he longs to see your head. Hast. O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God! Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast; Ready, with every nod, to tumble down Into the fatal bowels of the deep. Lov. Come, come, despatch; 'tis bootless to exclaim. Hast. O, bloody Richard!-miserable England! I prophecy the fearful'st time to thee, That ever wretched age hath look'd upon.- 8 Weak, foolish [Exeunt. SCENE V. The same. The Tower-walls. Enter GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM, in rusty armour, marvellous ill-favour'd. Glo. Come, cousin, canst thou quake, and change thy colour? Murder thy breath in middle of a word, And then again begin, and stop again, As if thou wert distraught, and mad with terror? But what, is Catesby gone? Glo. He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along. Enter the Lord Mayor and CATESBY. Buck. Let me alone to entertain him. mayor, Glo. Look to the draw-bridge there. Buck. Lord Hark, hark! a drum. › Glo. Catesby, o'erlook the walls. Buck. Lord mayor, the reason we have sent for you, Glo. Look back, defend thee, here are enemies. • Pretending. |