And I regret having bragged to the messenger about how my enemies were being butchered at Pomfret while I, as I said, was in good standing with Richard. Oh Margaret, Margaret, your heavy curse has now landed on poor Hastings’s miserable head!
RATCLIFFE
Come, come, dispatch. The duke would be at dinner.
Make a short shrift. He longs to see your head.
RATCLIFFE
Hurry up—the duke wants to eat his dinner. Make your confession short. He’s eager to see your head.
100
HASTINGS
O momentary grace of mortal men,
Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
Who builds his hopes in air of your good looks
Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast,
Ready with every nod to tumble down
Into the fatal bowels of the deep.
HASTINGS
We spend more time seeking out the fleeting glories of this temporary world than looking to the permanent grace of God! Anyone who builds his hopes on air lives like a drunken sailor hanging on a mast, ready with every dizzy nod of his head to tumble to the bottom of the sea. The things we worry about, like good looks and possessions, aren’t lasting, and they don’t matter.
LOVELL
Come, come, dispatch. 'Tis bootless to exclaim.
LOVELL
Come, come, hurry up. It’s pointless to talk now.
105
HASTINGS
O bloody Richard! Miserable England,
I prophesy the fearfull’st time to thee
That ever wretched age hath looked upon.—
Come, lead me to the block. Bear him my head.
They smile at me that shortly shall be dead.
HASTINGS
Oh bloody Richard! Miserable England, I foresee for you the most frightening time you have ever experienced.—Come, lead me to the block. Bring him my head. Those who smile at it will soon be dead themselves.