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 shoulders.
Buck. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons!
To mitigate the scorn he gives his uncle,
He prettily and aptly taunts himself:
So cunning, and so young, is wonderful.

Glo. My gracious lord, will't please you pass along?
Myself, and my good cousin, Buckingham,
Will to your mother; to entreat of her,
To meet you at the Tower, and welcome you.

York. What, will you go into the Tower, my lord?
Prince. My lord protector needs will have it so.
York. I shall not sleep in quiet at the Tower.
Glo. Why, sir, what should you fear?
York. Marry, my uncle Clarence' angry ghost;

My grandam told me, he was murder'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, HASTINGS, Cardinal,
and Attendants.

Buck. Think you, my lord, this little prating York Was not incensed by his subtle mother, To taunt and scorn you thus opprobriously?

Glo. No doubt, no doubt : O, 'tis a parlous boy;

Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable;

He's all the mother's, from the top to toe.
Buck. Well, let them rest.-
Come hither, gentle Catesby; thou art sworn
As deeply to effect what we intend,
As closely to conceal what we impart:

Thou know'st our reasons urg'd upon the way;-
What think'st thou? is it not an easy matter
To make William lord Hastings of our mind,
For the instalment of this noble duke

In the seat royal of this famous isle ?

Cate. He for his father's sake so loves the prince, That he will not be won to aught against him.

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

Cate. He will do all in all as Hastings doth.
Buck. Well then, no more but this: Go, gentle

Catesby,

And, as it were far off, sound thou lord Hastings,
How he doth stand affected to our purpose;
And summon him to-morrow to the Tower,
To sit about the coronation.

If thou dost find him tractable to us,

Encourage him, and tell him all our reasons:
If he be leaden, icy, cold, unwilling,
Be thou so too; and so break off the talk,
And give us notice of his inclination:
For we to-morrow hold divided councils,
Wherein thyself shalt 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 kiss the more.

Buck. Good Catesby, go, effect this business soundly.
Cate. My good lords both, with all the heed I can.
Glo. Shall we hear from you, Catesby, ere we sleep?
Cate. You shall, my lord.

Glo. At Crosby-place, there shall you find us both. [Exit CATESBY.

Buck. Now, my lord, what shall we do, if we perceive Lord Hastings will not yield to our complots ?

Glo. Chop off his head, man;-somewhat we will

do:

And, look, when I am king, claim thou of me
The earldom of Hereford, and all the moveables
Whereof the king my brother was possess'd.

Buck. I'll claim that promise at your grace's hand.
Glo. And look to have it yielded with all kindness.
Come, let us sup betimes; that afterwards
We may digest our complots in some form. [Excunt.

SCENE II.-Before Lord HASTINGS' House.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, my lord,

Hast. [Within.] Who knocks?

Mess. One from lord Stanley.

Hast. [Within.] What is't o'clock?

Mess. Upon the stroke of four.

Enter HASTINGS.

[Knocking.

Hast. Cannot thy master sleep the tedious nights ?

3

Mess. So it should seem by that I have to say. First, he commends him to your noble lordship. Hast. And then,

Mess. And then he sends you word, he dreamt To-night the boar had rased off his helm : Besides, he says, there are two councils held; And that may be determin'd at the one, Which may make you and him to rue the other. Therefore he sends to know your lordship's pleasure,If presently you will take horse with him,

And with all speed post with him toward the north, To shun the danger that his soul divines.

Hast. Go, fellow, go, return unto thy lord; Bid him not fear the separated councils : His honour, and myself, are at the one; 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 shallow, wanting instance: And for his dreams-I wonder, he's so fond To trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers : To fly the boar, before the boar pursues, Were to incense the boar to follow us, And make pursuit, where he did mean no chase. Go, bid thy master rise and come to me; And we will both together to the Tower, Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly. Mess. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say.

Enter CATESBY.

Cate. Many good morrows to my noble lord!

[Exit.

Hast. Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring: What news, what news, in this our tottering state ? Cate. It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord;

And, I believe, will never stand upright,

Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.

Hast. How! wear the garland? dost thou mean the

crown?

Cate. Ay, my good lord.

Hast. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my

shoulders,

Before I'll see the crown so foul misplac'd.

But canst thou guess, that he doth aim at it?

Cate. Ay, on my life; and hopes to find you forward, Upon his party, for the gain thereof: And, thereupon, he sends you this good news,That, this same very day, your enemies, The kindred of the queen, must die at Pomfret. Hast. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news, Because they have been still my adversaries : But, that I'll give my voice on Richard's side, 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! Hast. But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month

hence,

That they, who brought me in my master's hate,
I live to look upon their tragedy.
Well, Catesby, ere a fortnight make me older,
I'll send some 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.
Hast. O monstrous, monstrous! and so falls it out