Datasets:
DioLiu
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Test3

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
 Community
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Pursuivant:
The better that your lordship please to ask.
HASTINGS:
I tell thee, man, 'tis better with me now
Than when I met thee last where now we meet:
Then was I going prisoner to the Tower,
By the suggestion of the queen's allies;
But now, I tell thee--keep it to thyself--
This day those enemies are put to death,
And I in better state than e'er I was.
Pursuivant:
God hold it, to your honour's good content!
HASTINGS:
Gramercy, fellow: there, drink that for me.
Pursuivant:
God save your lordship!
Priest:
Well met, my lord; I am glad to see your honour.
HASTINGS:
I thank thee, good Sir John, with all my heart.
I am in your debt for your last exercise;
Come the next Sabbath, and I will content you.
BUCKINGHAM:
What, talking with a priest, lord chamberlain?
Your friends at Pomfret, they do need the priest;
Your honour hath no shriving work in hand.
HASTINGS:
Good faith, and when I met this holy man,
Those men you talk of came into my mind.
What, go you toward the Tower?
BUCKINGHAM:
I do, my lord; but long I shall not stay
I shall return before your lordship thence.
HASTINGS:
'Tis like enough, for I stay dinner there.
BUCKINGHAM:
HASTINGS:
I'll wait upon your lordship.
RATCLIFF:
Come, bring forth the prisoners.
RIVERS:
Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this:
To-day shalt thou behold a subject die
For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.
GREY:
God keep the prince from all the pack of you!
A knot you are of damned blood-suckers!
VAUGHAN:
You live that shall cry woe for this after.
RATCLIFF:
Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out.
RIVERS:
O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison,
Fatal and ominous to noble peers!
Within the guilty closure of thy walls
Richard the second here was hack'd to death;
And, for more slander to thy dismal seat,
We give thee up our guiltless blood to drink.
GREY:
Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads,
For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son.
RIVERS:
Then cursed she Hastings, then cursed she Buckingham,
Then cursed she Richard. O, remember, God
To hear her prayers for them, as now for us
And for my sister and her princely sons,
Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,
Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt.
RATCLIFF:
Make haste; the hour of death is expiate.
RIVERS:
Come, Grey, come, Vaughan, let us all embrace:
And take our leave, until we meet in heaven.
HASTINGS:
My lords, at once: the cause why we are met
Is, to determine of the coronation.
In God's name, speak: when is the royal day?