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The Coast of Cornwall. A general shout within.— Enter WARBECK, Dal
YELL, KATHERINE, and JANE. War. After so many storms as wind and seas Have threaten’d to our weather-beaten ships, At last, sweet fairest, we are safe arrived On our dear mother earth, ungrateful only To heaven and us, in yielding sustenance To sly usurpers of our throne and right. These general acclamations are an omen Of happy process to their welcome lord : They flock in troops, and from all parts, with wings Of duty fly, to lay their hearts before us. Unequallid pattern of a matchless wife, How fares my dearest yet?
Kath. Confirm'd in health;
Dal. Lady, I return
Jane. I wait but as the shadow to the body, For, madam, without you let me be nothing.
War. None talk of sadness, we are on the way Which leads to victory; keep cowards thoughts With desperate sullenness! The lion faints not Lock'd in a grate, but, loose, disdains all force Which bars his prey, (and we are lion-hearted,) Or else no king of beasts.—[Another general shout
within.]–Hark, how they shout; Triumphant in our cause! bold confidence Marches on bravely, cannot quake at danger.
Enter SKETON. Sket. Save king Richard the Fourth! save thee King of hearts! The Cornish blades are men of mettle; have proclaimed through Bodnam, and the whole county, my sweet prince monarch of England: four thousand tall yeomen, with bow and sword, already vow to live and die at the foot of King Richard.
Enter ASTLEY. Ast. The mayor, our fellow-counsellor, is servant for an emperor. Exeter is appointed for the rendezvous, and nothing wants to victory but courage and resolution. Sigillatum et datum decimo Septembris, anno Regni Regis primo, et cætera; confirmatum est. All's cock-sure!
War. To Exeter! to Exeter, march on : Commend us to our people; we in person Will lend them double spirits; tell them so. Sket, and Ast. King Richard, king Richard !
[E.reunt Sket. and Asr. War. A thousand blessings guard our lawful
ACT V. SCENE I.
St. Michael's Mount, Cornwall.
with one Servant.
Kath. It is decreed; and we must yield to fate, Whose angry justice, though it threaten ruin, Contempt, and poverty, is all but trial Of a weak woman's constancy in suffering. Here in a stranger's, and an enemy's land, Forsaken and unfurnish'd of all hopes, But such as wait on misery, I range To meet affliction wheresoe'er 1 tread. My train, and pomp of servants, is reduced To one kind gentlewoman, and this groom. Sweet Jane, now whither must we?
Jane. To your ships, Dear lady, and turn home.
Kath. Home! I have none. Fly thou to Scotland; thou hast friends will weep For joy to bid thee welcome; but, oh Jane, My Jane! my friends are desperate of comfort, As I must be of them: the common charity, Good people's alms, and prayers of the gentle, Is the revenue must support my state. As for my native country, since it once
• St. Michaels Mount.] It appears that when Perkin marched on his ill-fated expedition, Lady Katherine was left at this place, from which she was now preparing to withdraw, on some rumours of her husband's want of success.
Saw me a princess in the height of greatness
fortunes. Never, Jane,
Serv. Pardon, lady;
Kath. Oh, dear souls,
Enter DALYELL. Dal. I bring, Fair princess, news of further sadness yet, Than your sweet youth hath been acquainted with.