Buck. The mayor is here at hand: Intend fome
Be not you spoke with, but by mighty fuit:
And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,
And ftand between two churchmen, good my lord,
For on that ground I'll build a holy defcant:
And be not easily won to our requests,
Play the maid's part, ftill anfwer, nay, and take it.
Glo. I go: and if you plead as well for them,
As I can fay, nay to thee, for myself;
No doubt, we'll bring it to a happy iffue,
[Exit Gloucefter. Buck. Go, go, up to the leads; the lord mayor
Enter Lord Mayor and Citizens.
-Welcome, my lord. I dance attendance here,
I think, the duke will not be spoke withal.
Now, Catefby, what says your lord to my request?
Catef. He doth intreat your grace, my noble lord,
To vifit him to-morrow, or next day:
He is within, with two right reverend fathers,
Divinely bent to meditation;
And in no worldly fuits would he be mov'd,
To draw him from his holy exercise.
intend fome fear ;] Perhaps, pretend; though intend will ftand in the fenfe of giving attention. JOHNSON. 1 As I can fay, nay to thee,] I think it must be read, if you plead as well for them
As I must fay, nay to them for myself.
Perhaps the change is not neceffary. Buckingham is to plead for the citizens; and if (fays Richard) you speak for them as plaufibly as I in my own perfon, or for my own purposes, fhall feem to deny your fuit, there is no doubt but we shall bring all to a happy issue.
Buck. Return, good Catesby, to the gracious duke; Tell him, myself, the mayor and aldermen, In deep defigns, in matter of great moment, No lefs importing than our general good, Are come to have fome conference with his grace. Cates. I'll fignify fo much unto him ftrait.
[Exit. Buck, Ah, ha! my lord, this prince is not an Edward!
He is not lolling on a lewd day-bed,
But on his knees at meditation;
Not dallying with a brace of courtezans,
But meditating with two deep divines;
Not fleeping, to engross his idle body,
But praying, to enrich his watchful foul.
Happy were England, would this virtuous prince
Take on his grace the fovereignty thereof;
But, fure, 1 fear, we shall ne'er win him to it.
Mayor, Marry, God defend, his grace should fay
us, nay!
Buck. I fear, he will: Here Catefby comes again:
Enter Catesby.
Catefby, what fays his grace ?
Catef. He wonders to what end you have affembled Such troops of citizens to come to him,
His grace not being warn'd thereof before:
He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him.
Buck. Sorry I am, my noble cousin should
Sufpect me, that I mean no good to him:
By heaven, we come to him in perfect love,
And fo once more return, and tell his grace.
[Exit Catesby,
When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence,
So fweet is zealous contemplation.
-to engros] To fatten; to pamper. JOHNSON.
Enter Gloucefter above, between two Bishops. Catesby
Mayor. See, where his grace ftands 'tween two clergymen !
Buck. Two props of virtue, for a christian prince,
To stay him from the fall of vanity:
And fee, a book of prayer in his hand;
True ornaments to know a holy man.-
-Famous Plantagenet! moft gracious prince,
Lend favourable ear to our requests;
And pardon us the interruption
Of thy devotion and right-chriftian zeal.
Glo. My lord, there needs no fuch apology;
I do beseech your grace to pardon me,
Who, earnest in the fervice of my God,
Deferr'd the visitation of my friends.
But, leaving this, what is your grace's pleasure?
Buck. Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
And all good men of this ungovern'd isle.
Glo. I do fufpect, I have done fome offence, That feems difgracious in the city's eye;
And that you come to reprehend my ignorance. Buck. You have, my lord; would it might please your grace,
On our entreaties, to amend your fault!
Glo. Elfe wherefore breathe I in a Chriftian land? Buck. Know, then, it is your fault, that you refign The fupream feat, the throne majestical,
The fcepter'd office of your ancestors,
Your state of fortune, and your due of birth,
The lineal glory of your royal house,
To the corruption of a blemish'd stock;
While, in the mildness of your fleepy thoughts,
(Which here we waken to our country's good)
The noble ifle doth want her proper limbs;
Her face defac'd with fcars of infamy,
Her royal stock graft with ignoble plants,
9 And almost shoulder'd in the swallowing gulph
Of dark forgetfulness, and deep oblivion,
Which to re-cure, we heartily follicit
Your gracious felf to take on you the charge
And kingly government of this your land:
Not as protector, steward, fubftitute,
Or lowly factor for another's gain;
But as fucceffively, from blood to blood,
Your right of birth, your empery, your own.
For this, conforted with the citizens,
Your very worshipful and loving friends,
And by their vehement instigation,
In this juft fuit come I to move your grace.
Glo. I cannot tell, if to depart in filence,
Or bitterly to speak in your reproof,
Beft fitteth my degree, or your condition :
For, not to answer, you might, haply, think,
Tongue-ty'd ambition, not replying, yielded
To bear the golden yoke of fovereignty,
Which fondly you would here impose on me :
If to reprove you for this fuit of yours,
So feafon'd with your faithful love to me,
Then, on the other fide, I check'd my friends.
Therefore, to speak, and to avoid the first,
And then, in speaking, not to incur the last,—
Definitively thus I answer you.
Your love deferves my thanks; but my defert
And almost shouldered in the Swallowing gulf
Of dark forgetfulness,]
What it is to be shoulder'd in a gulph, Hanmer is the only editor who feems not to have known for the reft let it pass without obfervation.
Almost holder'd into th' fwallowing gulph.
I believe we should read,
And almoft fmoulder'd in the swallowing gulph, That is, almoft mother'd, covered and loft. JOHNSON.
Unmeritable fhuns your high request.
First, if all obstacles were cut away,
And that my path were even to the crown,
As the ripe revenue and due of birth;
Yet fo much is my poverty of fpirit,
So mighty, and fo many my defects,
That I would rather hide me from my greatnefs,-
Being a bark to brook no mighty fea,-
Than in my greatness covet 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 help you, if need were)
The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,
Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
Will well become the feat of majesty;
And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.
On him I lay, what you would lay on me,
The right and fortune of his happy stars,-
Which, God defend, that I fhould wring from him b
Buck. My lord, this argues confcience in your grace: But the refpects thereof are nice and trivial,
All circumstances well confidered.
You fay, that Edward is your brother's fon;
So fay we too, but not by Edward's wife :-
For firft was he contract to lady Lucy,
Your mother lives a witness to that vow;
And afterward by fubftitute betroth'd
To Bona, fifter to the king of France.
These both put by, a poor petitioner,
A care-craz'd mother to a many fons,
A beauty-waining, and diftreffed widow,
Even in the afternoon of her best days,
Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye;
Seduc'd the pitch and height of all his thoughts
And much I need to help you,-] And I want much of the ability requifite to give you help, if help were needed. JoHNson.
|