Mess. I'll go, my lord, and tell him what you say.
Exit.
Enter Catesby.
Cate. Many good morrows to my noble lord!
Hast. Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring. 36
What news, what news, in this our tottering state?
Cate. It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord;
And I believe will never stand upright
Till Richard wear the garland of the realm. 40
Hast. How! wear the garland! dost thou mean the crown?
Cate. Ay, my good lord.
Hast. I'll have this crown of mine cut from my shoulders
Before I'll see the crown so foul misplac'd. 44
But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it?
Cate. Ay, on my life; and hopes to find you forward
Upon his party for the gain thereof:
And thereupon he sends you this good news, 48
That this same very day your enemies,
The kindred of the queen, must die at Pomfret.
Hast. Indeed, I am no mourner for that news,
Because they have been still my adversaries; 52
But that I'll give my voice on Richard's side,
To bar my master's heirs in true descent,
God knows I will not do it, to the death.
Cate. God keep your lordship in that gracious mind! 56
Hast. But I shall laugh at this a twelve-month hence,
That they which brought me in my master's hate,
43 crown: head
52 still: always
55 to the death: i.e. even if my refusal cost me my life
