And we will both together to the Tower,
Where, he shall see, the boar will use us kindly.
[♦] Mess. My gracious lord, I’ll tell him what you say. [Exit.
Enter CATESBY.
35 Cate. Many good morrows to my noble lord!
Hast. Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring:
What news, what news, in this our tottering state?
Cate. It is a reeling world indeed, my lord;
[♦] And I believe ’twill never stand upright
40 Till Richard wear the garland of the realm.