KING RICHARD.
There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
White-livered runagate, what doth he there?
STANLEY.
I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
KING RICHARD.
Well, as you guess?
STANLEY.
Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton,
He makes for England, here to claim the crown.
KING RICHARD.
Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed?
Is the King dead? The empire unpossessed?
What heir of York is there alive but we?
And who is England’s King but great York’s heir?
Then tell me, what makes he upon the seas?
STANLEY.
Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
KING RICHARD.
Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear.
STANLEY.
No, my good lord; therefore mistrust me not.
KING RICHARD.
Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
Where be thy tenants and thy followers?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?
STANLEY.
No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.