Part 24

Enter a Scriuener

Scr. Here is the Indictment of the good Lord Hastings, Which in a set Hand fairely is engross'd, That it may be to day read o're in Paules. And marke how well the sequell hangs together: Eleuen houres I haue spent to write it ouer, For yester-night by Catesby was it sent me, The Precedent was full as long a doing, And yet within these fiue houres Hastings liu'd, Vntainted, vnexamin'd, free, at libertie. Here's a good World the while. Who is so grosse, that cannot see this palpable deuice? Yet who so bold, but sayes he sees it not? Bad is the World, and all will come to nought, When such ill dealing must be seene in thought. Enter.

Enter Richard and Buckingham at seuerall Doores.

Rich. How now, how now, what say the Citizens? Buck. Now by the holy Mother of our Lord, The Citizens are mum, say not a word

Rich. Toucht you the Bastardie of Edwards Children? Buck. I did, with his Contract with Lady Lucy, And his Contract by Deputie in France, Th' vnsatiate greedinesse of his desire, And his enforcement of the Citie Wiues, His Tyrannie for Trifles, his owne Bastardie, As being got, your Father then in France, And his resemblance, being not like the Duke. Withall, I did inferre your Lineaments, Being the right Idea of your Father, Both in your forme, and Noblenesse of Minde: Layd open all your Victories in Scotland, Your Discipline in Warre, Wisdome in Peace, Your Bountie, Vertue, faire Humilitie: Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose, Vntoucht, or sleightly handled in discourse. And when my Oratorie drew toward end, I bid them that did loue their Countries good, Cry, God saue Richard, Englands Royall King

Rich. And did they so? Buck. No, so God helpe me, they spake not a word, But like dumbe Statues, or breathing Stones, Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale: Which when I saw, I reprehended them, And ask'd the Maior, what meant this wilfull silence? His answer was, the people were not vsed To be spoke to, but by the Recorder. Then he was vrg'd to tell my Tale againe: Thus sayth the Duke, thus hath the Duke inferr'd, But nothing spoke, in warrant from himselfe. When he had done, some followers of mine owne, At lower end of the Hall, hurld vp their Caps, And some tenne voyces cry'd, God saue King Richard: And thus I tooke the vantage of those few. Thankes gentle Citizens, and friends, quoth I, This generall applause, and chearefull showt, Argues your wisdome, and your loue to Richard: And euen here brake off, and came away

Rich. What tongue-lesse Blockes were they, Would they not speake? Will not the Maior then, and his Brethren, come? Buck. The Maior is here at hand: intend some feare, Be not you spoke with, but by mightie suit: And looke you get a Prayer-Booke in your hand, And stand betweene two Church-men, good my Lord, For on that ground Ile make a holy Descant: And be not easily wonne to our requests, Play the Maids part, still answer nay, and take it

Rich. I goe: and if you plead as well for them, As I can say nay to thee for my selfe, No doubt we bring it to a happie issue

Buck. Go, go vp to the Leads, the Lord Maior knocks. Enter the Maior, and Citizens.

Welcome, my Lord, I dance attendance here, I thinke the Duke will not be spoke withall. Enter Catesby.

Buck. Now Catesby, what sayes your Lord to my request? Catesby. He doth entreat your Grace, my Noble Lord, To visit him to morrow, or next day: He is within, with two right reuerend Fathers, Diuinely bent to Meditation, And in no Worldly suites would he be mou'd, To draw him from his holy Exercise

Buck. Returne, good Catesby, to the gracious Duke, Tell him, my selfe, the Maior and Aldermen, In deepe designes, in matter of great moment, No lesse importing then our generall good, Are come to haue some conference with his Grace

Catesby. Ile signifie so much vnto him straight. Enter.

Buck. Ah ha, my Lord, this Prince is not an Edward, He is not lulling on a lewd Loue-Bed, But on his Knees, at Meditation: Not dallying with a Brace of Curtizans, But meditating with two deepe Diuines: Not sleeping, to engrosse his idle Body, But praying, to enrich his watchfull Soule. Happie were England, would this vertuous Prince Take on his Grace the Soueraigntie thereof. But sure I feare we shall not winne him to it

Maior. Marry God defend his Grace should say vs nay

Buck. I feare he will: here Catesby comes againe. Enter Catesby.

Now Catesby, what sayes his Grace? Catesby. He wonders to what end you haue assembled Such troopes of Citizens, to come to him, His Grace not being warn'd thereof before: He feares, my Lord, you meane no good to him

Buck. Sorry I am, my Noble Cousin should Suspect me, that I meane no good to him: By Heauen, we come to him in perfit loue, And so once more returne, and tell his Grace. Enter.

When holy and deuout Religious men Are at their Beades, 'tis much to draw them thence, So sweet is zealous Contemplation. Enter Richard aloft, betweene two Bishops

Maior. See where his Grace stands, tweene two Clergie men

Buck. Two Props of Vertue, for a Christian Prince, To stay him from the fall of Vanitie: And see a Booke of Prayer in his hand, True Ornaments to know a holy man. Famous Plantagenet, most gracious Prince, Lend fauourable eare to our requests, And pardon vs the interruption Of thy Deuotion, and right Christian Zeale

Rich. My Lord, there needes no such Apologie: I doe beseech your Grace to pardon me, Who earnest in the seruice of my God, Deferr'd the visitation of my friends. But leauing this, what is your Graces pleasure? Buck. Euen that (I hope) which pleaseth God aboue, And all good men, of this vngouern'd Ile

Rich. I doe suspect I haue done some offence, That seemes disgracious in the Cities eye, And that you come to reprehend my ignorance

Buck. You haue, my Lord: Would it might please your Grace, On our entreaties, to amend your fault

Rich. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian Land

Buck. Know then, it is your fault, that you resigne The Supreme Seat, the Throne Maiesticall, The Sceptred Office of your Ancestors, Your State of Fortune, and your Deaw of Birth, The Lineall Glory of your Royall House, To the corruption of a blemisht Stock; Whiles in the mildnesse of your sleepie thoughts, Which here we waken to our Countries good, The Noble Ile doth want his proper Limmes: His Face defac'd with skarres of Infamie, His Royall Stock grafft with ignoble Plants, And almost shouldred in the swallowing Gulfe Of darke Forgetfulnesse, and deepe Obliuion. Which to recure, we heartily solicite Your gracious selfe to take on you the charge And Kingly Gouernment of this your Land: Not as Protector, Steward, Substitute, Or lowly Factor, for anothers gaine; But as successiuely, from Blood to Blood, Your Right of Birth, your Empyrie, your owne. For this, consorted with the Citizens, Your very Worshipfull and louing friends, And by their vehement instigation, In this iust Cause come I to moue your Grace

Rich. I cannot tell, if to depart in silence, Or bitterly to speake in your reproofe, Best fitteth my Degree, or your Condition. If not to answer, you might haply thinke, Tongue-ty'd Ambition, not replying, yeelded To beare the Golden Yoake of Soueraigntie, Which fondly you would here impose on me. If to reproue you for this suit of yours, So season'd with your faithfull loue to me, Then on the other side I check'd my friends. Therefore to speake, and to auoid the first, And then in speaking, not to incurre the last, Definitiuely thus I answer you. Your loue deserues my thankes, but my desert Vnmeritable, shunnes your high request. First, if all Obstacles were cut away, And that my Path were euen to the Crowne, As the ripe Reuenue, and due of Birth: Yet so much is my pouertie of spirit, So mightie, and so manie my defects, That I would rather hide me from my Greatnesse, Being a Barke to brooke no mightie Sea; Then in my Greatnesse couet to be hid, And in the vapour of my Glory smother'd. But God be thank'd, there is no need of me, And much I need to helpe you, were there need: The Royall Tree hath left vs Royall Fruit, Which mellow'd by the stealing howres of time, Will well become the Seat of Maiestie, And make (no doubt) vs happy by his Reigne. On him I lay that, you would lay on me, The Right and Fortune of his happie Starres, Which God defend that I should wring from him

Buck. My Lord, this argues Conscience in your Grace, But the respects thereof are nice, and triuiall, All circumstances well considered. You say, that Edward is your Brothers Sonne, So say we too, but not by Edwards Wife: For first was he contract to Lady Lucie, Your Mother liues a Witnesse to his Vow; And afterward by substitute betroth'd To Bona, Sister to the King of France. These both put off, a poore Petitioner, A Care-cras'd Mother to a many Sonnes, A Beautie-waining, and distressed Widow, Euen in the after-noone of her best dayes, Made prize and purchase of his wanton Eye, Seduc'd the pitch, and height of his degree, To base declension, and loath'd Bigamie. By her, in his vnlawfull Bed, he got This Edward, whom our Manners call the Prince. More bitterly could I expostulate, Saue that for reuerence to some aliue, I giue a sparing limit to my Tongue. Then good, my Lord, take to your Royall selfe This proffer'd benefit of Dignitie: If not to blesse vs and the Land withall, Yet to draw forth your Noble Ancestrie From the corruption of abusing times, Vnto a Lineall true deriued course