to any thing. What is his name? His name, my lord, is Tyrrel. I partly know the man: go, call him hither. The deep-revolving witty Buckingham No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel: Hath he so long held out with me untired, And stops he now for breath? How now! what news with you? My lord, I hear the Marquis Dorset's fled To Richmond, in those parts beyond the sea Where he abides. Catesby! My lord? Rumour it abroad That Anne, my wife, is sick and like to die: I will take order for her keeping close. Inquire me out some mean-born gentleman, Whom I will marry straight to Clarence' daughter: The boy is foolish, and I fear not him. Look, how thou dream'st! I say again, give out That Anne my wife is sick and like to die: About it; for it stands me much upon, To stop all hopes whose growth may damage me. I must be married to my brother's daughter, Or else my kingdom stands on brittle glass. Murder her brothers, and then marry her! Uncertain way of gain! But I am in So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin: Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. Is thy name Tyrrel? James Tyrrel, and your most obedient subject. Art thou, indeed? Prove me, my gracious sovereign. Darest thou resolve to kill a friend of mine? Ay, my lord; But I had rather kill two enemies. Why, there thou hast it: two deep enemies, Foes to my rest and my sweet sleep's disturbers Are they that I would have thee deal upon: Tyrrel, I mean those bastards in the Tower. Let me have open means to come to them, And soon I'll rid you from the fear of them. Thou sing'st sweet music. Hark, come hither, Tyrrel Go, by this token: rise, and lend thine ear: There is no more but so: say it is done, And I will love thee, and prefer thee too. 'Tis done, my gracious lord. Shall we hear from thee, Tyrrel, ere we sleep? Ye shall, my Lord. My Lord, I have consider'd in my mind The late demand that you did sound me in. Well, let that pass. Dorset is fled to Richmond. I hear that news, my lord. Stanley, he is your wife's son well, look to it. My lord, I claim your gift, my due by promise, For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd; The earldom of Hereford and the moveables The which you