CAMBRIDGE

Then thus Lord Scroop, sir Thomas Grey, & you Mounsieur de Cham tres, agent for the French, This Lionel Duke of Clarence, as I said, Third son of Edward (England's King) the third H worser issue Philip his sole daughter and heir, Which Philip afterwards was given in marriage, To Edmund Mortimer the Earl of March, And by him had a son called Roger Mortimer, Which Roger likewise had of his dissent, Edmund, Roger, Anne, and Elianor, Two daughters and two sons, but those three Died without issue, Anne that did survive, And now was left her father's only heir, My fortune was to marry, being too By my grandfather of King Edward's line, So of his surname, I am called you know, Richard Plantagenet, my father was, Edward the Duke of York, and son and heir To Edmund Langley, Edward the third's first son. True, for this Harry, and his father both Harry the first, as plainly does appear, Are false intruders, and usurp the Crown. For when young Richard was at Pomfret slain, In him the title of prince Edward died, That was the eldest of king Edwards sons: William of Hatfield, and their second brother, Death in his nonage had before bereft: So that my wife derived from Lionel, Third son unto king Edward, ought proceed, And take possession of the Diadem Before this Harry, or his father king, Who fetched their title but from Lancaster, Forth of that royal line. And being thus, What reason is't but she should have her right? Beside, you must persuade you there is endue, Vengeance for Richard's murder, which although It be defend, yet will it fallen at last, And now as likely as another time. Sin hath had many years to ripen in, And now the harvest cannot be far off, Wherein the weeds of usurpation, Are to be cropped, and cast into the fire. Doubt not of him, my lord, his life's pursued By incensed Clergy, and of late, rought in displeasure with the king, assures He may be quickly won unto our faction. Who hath the articles were drawn at large Of our whole purpose? We should not now be far off from his house, Our serious conference hath beguiled the way, See where his castle stands, give me the writing. When we are come unto the speech of him, Because we will not stand to make recount, Of that which hath been said, here he shall read enter Counterfeit . Our minds at large, and what we crave of him. Well met lord Cobham. We were intended to have been your guests: But now this lucky me king shall suffice To end our business, and defer that kindness. Nay but the stag which we desire to strike, Lives not in Cowling: if you will consent, And go with us, weel bring you to a forest, Where runs a lusty hierd: amongst the which There is a stag superior to the rest, A stately beast, that when his fellows run, He leads the raze, and beats the sullen earth, As though he sco and it with his trampling hoofes, Aloft he bears his head, and with his breast, Like a huge bulwark counter-checkes the wind: And when he stands still, he stretcheth forth His proud ambitious neck, as if he meant To wound the firmament with forked horns. Not so, sir John, for he is tyrannous, And gores the other deer, and will not keep Within the limits are appointed him. Of late he's broke into a several, Which does belong to me, and there he spoils Both corn and pasture, two of his wild raze Alike sor stealth, and covetous incroatching, Already are removed, if he were dead, I should not only be secure from hurt, But with his body make a royal feast. Peruse this writing, it will show you all, And what occasion we have for the sport. he reads Why so lord Cobham? see you not our claim? And how imperiously he holds the crown? Tut, we are strong enough, you are belou'de, And many will be glad to follow you, We are the light, and some will follow us: Beside, there is hope from France: heres and ambassador That promises both men and money too. The commons likewise (as we hear) pretend A sudden tumult, we will join with them. Then perish may my soul: wh to think you so? With all our hearts: who hath any pen and ink? Give it me lord Scroop: there is my name. Here if you please, the tenth of July next. Yes present y, for I have far to ride, About soliciting of other friends. Not now my lord, we thank you: so farewell. In mine opinion, Scroop hath well advised, Poison will be the only aptest mean, And fittest for our purpose to dispatch him. Herein consists no safety for your self, And you disclosed, what shall become of us? But this day (as you know) he will aboard, The wind so fair, and set away for France, If as he goes, or entering in the ship, It might be done, then it were excellent, Tush, yet I hear not any thing to purpose, I wonder that lord Cobham stays so long, His counsel in this case would much avail us.