CATESBY.
He wonders to what end you have assembled
Such troops of citizens to come to him,
His Grace not being warned thereof before.
He fears, my lord, you mean no good to him.
BUCKINGHAM.
Sorry I am my noble cousin should
Suspect me that I mean no good to him.
By heaven, we come to him in perfect love,
And so once more return and tell his Grace.
[Exit Catesby.]
When holy and devout religious men
Are at their beads, ’tis much to draw them thence,
So sweet is zealous contemplation.
Enter Richard aloft, between two Bishops. Catesby reenters.
MAYOR.
See where his Grace stands ’tween two clergymen!
BUCKINGHAM.
Two props of virtue for a Christian prince,
To stay him from the fall of vanity;
And, see, a book of prayer in his hand,
True ornaments to know a holy man.
Famous Plantagenet, most gracious Prince,
Lend favourable ear to our requests,
And pardon us the interruption
Of thy devotion and right Christian zeal.
RICHARD.
My lord, there needs no such apology.
I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
Who, earnest in the service of my God,
Deferred the visitation of my friends.
But, leaving this, what is your Grace’s pleasure?
BUCKINGHAM.
Even that, I hope, which pleaseth God above,
And all good men of this ungoverned isle.
RICHARD.
I do suspect I have done some offence
That seems disgracious in the city’s eye,
And that you come to reprehend my ignorance.