_Glos._ Ay, marry, but there is---- And that of much concern. Have you not heard How, on a late occasion, doctor Shaw Has mov'd the people much about the lawfulness Of Edward's issue? By right grave authority Of learning and religion, plainly proving, A bastard scion never should be grafted Upon a royal stock; from thence at full Discoursing on my brother's former contract To lady Elizabeth Lucy, long before His jolly match with that same buxom widow, The queen he left behind him---- _Lord H._ Ill befall Such meddling priests, who kindle up confusion, And vex the quiet world with their vain scruples! By heav'n, 'tis done in perfect spite to peace. Did not the king Our royal master, Edward, in concurrence With his estates assembled, well determine What course the sov'reign rule should take henceforward? When shall the deadly hate of faction cease, When shall our long-divided land have rest, If every peevish, moody, malecontent, Shall set the senseless rabble in an uproar, Fright them with dangers, and perplex their brains Each day with some fantastic giddy change? _Glos._ What if some patriot, for the public good, Should vary from your scheme, new-mould the state? _Lord H._ Curse on the innovating hand attempts it! Remember him, the villain, righteous heaven, In thy great day of vengeance! Blast the traitor And his pernicious counsels; who, for wealth, For pow'r, the pride of greatness, or revenge, Would plunge his native land in civil wars! _Glos._ You go too far, my lord. _Lord H._ Your highness' pardon---- Have we so soon forgot those days of ruin, When York and Lancaster drew forth their battles; When, like a matron butcher'd by her sons, Our groaning country bled at every vein; When murders, rapes, and massacres, prevail'd; When churches, palaces, and cities, blaz'd; When insolence and barbarism triumph'd, And swept away distinction: peasants trod Upon the necks of nobles: low were laid The reverend crosier and the holy mitre, And desolation cover'd all the land? Who can remember this, and not, like me, Here vow to sheath a dagger in his heart, Whose damn'd ambition would renew those horrors, And set once more that scene of blood before us? _Glos._ How now! so hot! _Lord H._ So brave, and so resolv'd. _Glos._ Is then our friendship of so little moment, That you could arm your hand against my life? _Lord H._ I hope your highness does not think I mean it; No, heav'n forfend that e'er your princely person Should come within the scope of my resentment. _Glos._ O noble Hastings! nay, I must embrace you; By holy Paul, you're a right honest man! [_embraces him._ The time is full of danger and distrust, And warns us to be wary. Hold me not Too apt for jealousy and light surmise, If, when I meant to lodge you next my heart, I put your truth to trial. Keep your loyalty, And live your king and country's best support: For me, I ask no more than honour gives, To think me yours, and rank me with your friends. [_exit._