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STAN. What men of name resort to him?

Chri. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier,
Sir Gilbert Talbot, and Sir William Stanley,
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, fir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew,
And

many others of great name and worth; And towards London do they bend their power, If by the way they be not fought withal.

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord, I kiss his hand,
My letter will resolve him of my mind.
Farewel.

(Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

S À LISBURY.

Enter the Sheriff, and Buckingham, with halberts, led to

Execution.
IL L not king Richard let me speak with him?

W .

BUCK. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey and Rivers,
Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscaried
By under-hand, corrupted, foul injustice;
If that your moody, discontented, souls
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Ev'n for revenge mock my destruction,
This is All-Souls day, fellows, is it not ?

Sher. It is, my lord.

BUCK. Why, then All-Souls day is my body's Doomsday.
This is the day, which in king Edward's time
I wilh'd mighe fall on me, when I was found

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Fale to his children, or his wife's allies,
This is the day, wherein I wilhid to fall
By the false faith of him whom most I trusted:
This this is All-Souls day to my fearful Soul,
Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.
That high All-feer, which I dallied with,
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head,
And giv'n in earnest, what I beg'a in jeft.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turn their own points on their masters' bofoms."
Thus Marg'ret's curse falls heavy on my head,
When he, quoth she, shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Marg’ret was a prophetess.
Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blane.

[Exeunt Buckingham, Sheriff and officers, SCENE II. Tamworth, on the borders of Leicester-lhire. Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, with

drum and colours.
Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,
Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,
Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we march'd on without impediment ;
And here receive we from our father Stanley
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement,
The wreched, bloody, and ufurping boar,
That spoild your summer-fields, and fruitful vines,
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowell'd bosoms; this foul swine
Lies now ev'n in the centre of this isle,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn ;

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From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
In goa's name, cheerly on, couragious friends,
To reap the harvest of perpetual peace,
By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

Oxf Every man's conscience is a thousand swords
To fight against that bloody homicide.

Hers. I doubt not but his friends will fly to us.

BLUNT. He hath no friends, but who are friends for fear, Which in his dearest need will Ay from him.

RICHM. All fór cür vantagem-then, in God's name, march. True hope is swift, and fies with swallow's wings, Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. Exeunt

SCENE. Ili. Changes to Bosworth Fieli. Enter king Richard in arms, with Norfolk, Surry, Ratcliff,

Catesby, and others.

Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth. My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

[field
SURR. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
K. Rich. My lord of Norfolk-
Nor. Here, most gracious liege.
K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have ķnocks : ha, must we not?
Nor. We must both give and take, my gracious lord.

K. Rich. Up with my tént, here will I lie to night ;
But where to-morrow well, all's one for that.
- Who hath descry'd the number of the traitors ?
Nor. Six, or fev!n thousand is their utmost power,

K. RICH: Why, our Battalion trebles that account ;
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want..
Up with the tent. Come, noble gentlemen,

K. RICH.

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Let us survey the vantage of the ground.
Call for some men of found direction ;
Let's want no discipline, make no delay,
For, lords, to morrow is a busy day.

[Exeunt

SCE N E changes to another part of Bofworth field. Enter Rich ond, Sir William Brandon, Oxford, and Dorset.

Rich. The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And, by the bright tract of his fiery car,
Gives signal of a goodly day to-morrow.

Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard ;
The earl of Pembroke keep his regiment ;
-Good captain Blunt, bear my good night to him ;
And by the fecond hour in the morning
Defire the earl to fee me in my tent.
-Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou goest;
Where is my lord Stanley quarter'd, dost thou know?

Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his quarters much,
Which well I am asfurd, I have not done,
His regiment lies half a mile at least
South from the mighty power of the king

Richm. If without peril it be poffible,
Sweet Blunt, make good fome means to speak with him
And give him from me this most needful note.

Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it.

RLCHM. Give me some ink and paper ; in my tent
I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
Limit each leader to his several charge,
And part in just proportion our small strength.
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business.

-Into our tent, the air is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the tent.

S Ç IN E changes back to King Richard's tent. Enter king Richard, Ratcliff, Norfolk, and Catesby.

KRICH. What is't o'clock?

Cates. It's supper time, my Lord;
It's nine o'clock.

K. Rich. I will not sup to-night.
Give me some ink and paper.
What,. is my beaver easier than it was,
And all my armour laid into my tent?

CATES. It is, my liege, and all things are in readiness,

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge,
Use careful watch, chuse trusty centinels.

Nor. I go, my lord.
K. Rich. Știr with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.
Nor, I warrant you, my lord.

[Exit
K. Rich. Catesby-
Cates. My lord.

K, Rich. Send opt a pursuivant at arms
To Stanley's regiment ; bid him bring his power
Before sun-rising, left his son George fall
Into the blind cave of eternal night.
Fill mę a bowl of wine -give me a watch

[To Ratclift.
Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.
Look, that my staves be found, and not too heavy.
Ratcliff-

RAT. My lord?

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