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Glost. Go to! I know your pow'r; and tho' I trust
To ev'ry breath of fame, I'm not to learn
7. Sh. Alas! for pity.
7. Sh. Does he ? Does Hastings?
7. Sh. Reward him for the noble deed, just Heav'ns: For this one action, guard him and distinguish him With signal mercies, and with great deliverance, Save him from wrong, adversity, and shame. Let never fading honours Aourish round him, And consecrate his name, ev'n to time's end : “ Let him know nothing else but good on earth, “ And everlasting blessedness hereafter." Glost. How now!
7. Sh. The poor, forsaken, royal little ones! Shall they be left a prey to savage power 2 Can they lift up their harmless hands in vain, Or cry to Heaven for help, and not be heard ? Impossible! Oh, gallant, generous Hastings, Go on, pursue l assert the sacred cause : Stand forth, thou proxy of all-ruling Providence, And save the friendless infants from appression. Saints shall assist thee with prevailing prayers, And warring angels combat on thy side. Glost. You're passing rich in this same heav'nly
speech, · And spend it at your pleasure. Nay, but mark me! My favour is not bought with words like these. Go 10-you'll teach your tongue another tale.
7. Sh. No, tho' the royal Edward has undone me, He was my king, my gracious master still; “ He lov'd me too, tho’ 'twas a guilty flame, “ And fatal to my peace, yet still he lov'd me; “ With fondness, and with tenderness he doated, " Dwelt in my eyes, and liv'd but in my smiles :"
And can I-O my heart abhors the thought!
7. Sh. Oh, that my tongue had ev'ry grace of speech, Great and commanding as the breath of kings, “ Sweet as the poet's numbers, and prevailing “ As soft persuasion to a love-sick maid;" That I had art and eloquence divine, To pay my duty to my master's ashes, And plead, till death, the cause of injur'd innocence. Glost. Ha! Dost thou brave me, minion! Dost
thou know How vile, how very a wretch, my pow'r can make
thee? “ That I can let loose fear, distress, and famine, “ To hunt thy heels, like hell-hounds, thro’ the
world;"' That I can place thee in such abject state, As help shall never find thee; where, repining, Thou shalt sit down and gnaw the earth for anguish; Groan to the pitiless winds without return;
Howl like the midnight wolf amidst the desart,
7. Sh. Let me be branded for the public scorn,
Glost. 'Tis well-we'll try the temper of your heart, What hoa! who waits without?
Enter RATCLIFFE, Catesby, and Attendants.
7. Sh. Oh, thou most righteous judge-
[Exit J. Shore, guarded by Catesby and others. Glost, So much for this. Your project's at an end.
[To Rat. This idle toy, this hilding scorns my power, And sets us all at naught. See that a guard Be ready at my call.
Rat. The council waits Upon your highness' leisure.
Glost. Bid them enter.
Enter the Duke of BUCKINGHAM, Earl of Derby,
Bishop of Ely, Lord HASTINGS, and others as to the council. The Duke of GLOSTER takes his place at the upper end, then the rest sit.
Derð. In happy times we are assembled here,
Hast. Some busy meddling knaves, 'tis said, there are,