Rich. Is the Chayre emptie? is the Sword vnsway'd?
Is the King dead? the Empire vnpossest?
What Heire of Yorke is there aliue, but wee?
And who is Englands King, but great Yorkes Heire?
Then tell me, what makes he vpon the Seas?
Stan. Vnlesse for that, my Liege, I cannot guesse
Rich. Vnlesse for that he comes to be your Liege,
You cannot guesse wherefore the Welchman comes.
Thou wilt reuolt, and flye to him, I feare
Stan. No, my good Lord, therefore mistrust me not
Rich. Where is thy Power then, to beat him back?
Where be thy Tenants, and thy followers?
Are they not now vpon the Westerne Shore,
Safe-conducting the Rebels from their Shippes?
Stan. No, my good Lord, my friends are in the
North
Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in the North,
When they should serue their Soueraigne in the West?
Stan. They haue not been commanded, mighty King:
Pleaseth your Maiestie to giue me leaue,
Ile muster vp my friends, and meet your Grace,
Where, and what time your Maiestie shall please
Rich. I, thou would'st be gone, to ioyne with Richmond:
But Ile not trust thee
Stan. Most mightie Soueraigne,
You haue no cause to hold my friendship doubtfull,
I neuer was, nor neuer will be false
Rich. Goe then, and muster men: but leaue behind
Your Sonne George Stanley: looke your heart be firme,
Or else his Heads assurance is but fraile
Stan. So deale with him, as I proue true to you.
Exit Stanley.