_Glos._ That can I. Those lords are each one my approv'd good friends, Of special trust and nearness to my bosom; And, howsoever busy they may seem, And diligent to bustle in the state, Their zeal goes on no further than we lead, And at our bidding stays. _Cates._ Yet there is one, And he amongst the foremost in his power, Of whom I wish your highness were assur'd. For me, perhaps it is my nature's fault, I own I doubt of his inclining much. _Glos._ I guess the man at whom your words would point: Hastings-- _Cates._ The same. _Glos._ He bears me great good will. _Cates._ 'Tis true, to you, as to the lord protector, And Gloster's duke, he bows with lowly service: But were he bid to cry, God save king Richard, Then tell me in what terms he would reply. Believe me, I have prov'd the man, and found him: I know he bears a most religious reverence To his dead master Edward's royal memory, And whither that may lead him, is most plain. Yet more--One of that stubborn sort he is, Who, if they once grow fond of an opinion, They call it honour, honesty, and faith, And sooner part with life than let it go. _Glos._ And yet this tough, impracticable, heart, Is govern'd by a dainty-finger'd girl; Such flaws are found in the most worthy natures; A laughing, toying, wheedling, whimpering, she, Shall make him amble on a gossip's message, And take the distaff with a hand as patient As e'er did Hercules. _Sir R._ The fair Alicia, Of noble birth and exquisite of feature, Has held him long a vassal to her beauty. _Cates._ I fear, he fails in his allegiance there; Or my intelligence is false, or else The dame has been too lavish of her feast, And fed him till he loathes. _Glos._ No more, he comes. _Enter Lord Hastings._ _Lord H._ Health, and the happiness of many days, Attend upon your grace. _Glos._ My good lord chamberlain, We're much beholden to your gentle friendship. _Lord H._ My lord, I come an humble suitor to you. _Glos._ In right good time. Speak out your pleasure freely. _Lord H._ I am to move your highness in behalf Of Shore's unhappy wife. _Glos._ Say you, of Shore? _Lord H._ Once a bright star, that held her place on high: The first and fairest of our English dames, While royal Edward held the sov'reign rule. Now, sunk in grief and pining with despair, Her waning form no longer shall incite Envy in woman, or desire in man. She never sees the sun, but through her tears, And wakes to sigh the live-long night away. _Glos._ Marry! the times are badly chang'd with her, From Edward's days to these. Then all was jollity, Feasting and mirth, light wantonness and laughter, Piping and playing, minstrelsy and masking; 'Till life fled from us like an idle dream, A show of mummery without a meaning. My brother, rest and pardon to his soul, Is gone to his account; for this his minion, The revel-rout is done--But you were speaking Concerning her--I have been told, that you Are frequent in your visitation to her.