Come on, come on; where is your boar-spear, man?
Fear you the boar, and go so unprovided?
STANLEY. My lord, good morrow; good morrow, Catesby.
You may jest on, but, by the holy rood,
I do not like these several councils, I.
HASTINGS. My lord, I hold my life as dear as yours,
And never in my days, I do protest,
Was it so precious to me as 'tis now.
Think you, but that I know our state secure,
I would be so triumphant as I am?
STANLEY. The lords at Pomfret, when they rode from
London,
Were jocund and suppos'd their states were sure,
And they indeed had no cause to mistrust;
But yet you see how soon the day o'ercast.
This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt;
Pray God, I say, I prove a needless coward.
What, shall we toward the Tower? The day is spent.
HASTINGS. Come, come, have with you. Wot you what, my
Lord?
To-day the lords you talk'd of are beheaded.
STANLEY. They, for their truth, might better wear their
heads
Than some that have accus'd them wear their hats.
But come, my lord, let's away.
Enter HASTINGS, a pursuivant
HASTINGS. Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow.
Exeunt STANLEY and CATESBY
How now, Hastings! How goes the world with thee?
PURSUIVANT. The better that your lordship please to ask.
HASTINGS. I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now
Than when thou met'st me last where now we meet:
Then was I going prisoner to the Tower
By the suggestion of the Queen's allies;
But now, I tell thee-keep it to thyself-
This day those enernies are put to death,
And I in better state than e'er I was.
PURSUIVANT. God hold it, to your honour's good content!
HASTINGS. Gramercy, Hastings; there, drink that for me.
[Throws him his purse]
PURSUIVANT. I thank your honour. Exit
Enter a PRIEST
PRIEST. Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour.
HASTINGS. I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart.
I am in your debt for your last exercise;
Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.
[He whispers in his ear]
PRIEST. I'll wait upon your lordship.
Enter BUCKINGHAM
BUCKINGHAM. What, talking with a priest, Lord
Chamberlain!
Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest:
Your honour hath no shriving work in hand.
HASTINGS. Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
The men you talk of came into my mind.
What, go you toward the Tower?
BUCKINGHAM. I do, my lord, but long I cannot stay there;
I shall return before your lordship thence.
HASTINGS. Nay, like enough, for I stay dinner there.
BUCKINGHAM. [Aside] And supper too, although thou
knowest it not.-
Come, will you go?
HASTINGS. I'll wait upon your lordship. Exeunt
SCENE 3.
Pomfret Castle
Enter SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF, with halberds, carrying the Nobles,
RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN, to death