style="font-size:15px;"> Withdraw yourself awhile; I’ll go with you.[Exeunt GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM.]
STANLEY
We have not yet set down this day of triumph.
Tomorrow, in my judgment, is too sudden;
For I myself am not so well provided
As else I would be, were the day prolong’d.
[Re-enter BISHOP OF ELY.]
ELY
Where is my lord the Duke of Gloster?
I have sent for these strawberries.
HASTINGS
His grace looks cheerfully and smooth this morning;
There’s some conceit or other likes him well
When that he bids good morrow with such spirit.
I think there’s ne’er a man in Christendom
Can lesser hide his love or hate than he;
For by his face straight shall you know his heart.
STANLEY
What of his heart perceive you in his face
By any livelihood he showed to-day?
HASTINGS
Marry, that with no man here he is offended;
For, were he, he had shown it in his looks.
[Re-enter GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM.]
GLOSTER
I pray you all, tell me what they deserve
That do conspire my death with devilish plots
Of damnèd witchcraft, and that have prevail’d
Upon my body with their hellish charms?
HASTINGS
The tender love I bear your grace, my lord,
Makes me most forward in this princely presence
To doom the offenders: whosoe’er they be.
I say, my lord, they have deservèd death.
GLOSTER
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 markèd me.
HASTINGS
If they have done this deed, my noble lord,—
GLOSTER
If!—thou protector of this damnèd strumpet,
Talk’st thou to me of “ifs”?—Thou art a traitor:—
Off with his head!—now, by Saint Paul I swear,
I will not dine until I see the same.—
Lovel and Ratcliff:—look that it be done:—
The rest, that love me, rise and follow me.
[Exeunt all except HASTINGS, LOVEL, and RATCLIFF.]
HASTINGS
Woe, woe, for England! not a whit for me;
For I, too fond, might have prevented this.
Stanley did dream the boar did raze his helm;
And I did scorn it, and disdain to fly.
Three times to-day my footcloth horse did stumble,
And started, when he look’d upon the Tower,
As loth to bear me to the slaughterhouse.
O, now I need the priest that spake to me:
I now repent I told the pursuivant,
As too triumphing, how mine enemies
To-day at Pomfret bloodily were butcher’d,
And I myself secure in grace and favour.
O Margaret, Margaret, now thy heavy curse
Is lighted on poor Hastings’ wretched head!
RATCLIFF
Come, come, despatch; the duke would be at dinner:
Make a short shrift; he longs to see your head.
HASTINGS
O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hope in air of your good looks
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
Ready, with every nod, to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.
LOVEL
Come, come, despatch; ‘tis bootless to exclaim.
HASTINGS
O bloody Richard!—miserable England!
I prophesy the fearfull’st time to thee
That ever wretched age hath look’d upon.—
Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head:
They smile at me who shortly shall be dead.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE V. London. The Tower Walls
[Enter GLOSTER and BUCKINGHAM in rusty armour, marvellous ill-favoured.]
GLOSTER
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 were distraught and mad with terror?
