STAN. What men of name refort to him?
CHRI. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned foldier,
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 kifs his hand,
My letter will refolve him of my mind,

[Exeunt.

Farewel.

ACT V.

SCENE 1.

SALISBURY.

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

W

Execution.

ILL not king Richard let me speak with him?

SHER. No, good my Lord, therefore be patient.
BUCK. Haftings, and Edward's children, Grey and Rivers,
Holy king Henry, and thy fair fon Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have mifcaried

By under-hand, corrupted, foul injustice;
If that your moody, discontented, fouls

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'sDoomsday. This is the day, which in king Edward's time

I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found

Fale to his children, or his wife's allies,
This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall
By the falfe faith of him whom most I trusted:
This this is All-Souls day to my fearful Soul,
Is the determin'd refpite 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'd in jest,
Thus doth he force the fwords of wicked men
To turn their own points' on their masters' bofoms.
Thus Margret's curfe falls heavy on my head,

When he, quoth she, shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margret was a prophetess.

Come, firs, convey me to the block of fhame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

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

RICHM. Fellows in arms, and my moft 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 spoil'd your fummer-fields, and fruitful vines,
Swills
your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowell'd bofoms; this foul swine

Lies now ev'n in the centre of this isle,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn;

From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
In god's name, cheerly on, couragious friends,
Το the harvest of perpetual peace,

reap

By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

OXF Every man's confcience is a thousand fwords To fight against that bloody homicide.

HERB. 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 fly from him.

RICHM. All for our vantage-then, in God's name, march. True hope is,fwift, and flies with swallow's wings, Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. Exeunt

SCENE III. Changes to Bosworth Field.

Enter king Richard in arms, with Norfolk, Surry, Ratcliff, Catesby, and others.

K. RICH. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth.

My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

SURR. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
K. RICH. My lord of Norfolk-

NOR. Here, moft gracious liege.

[field

K. RICH. Norfolk, we must have knocks: ha, must we not? NOR. We must both give and take, my gracious lord. K. RICH. Up with my tent, here will I lie to night; But where to-morrow? -well, all's one for that. -Who hath defcry'd the number of the traitors?

་་

NOR. Six, or fev'n thousand is their utmost power.
K. RICH. Why, our Battalion trebles that account;
Befides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverfe faction want.
Up with the tent. Come, noble gentlemen,

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

[Exeunt

SCENE changes to another part of Bofworth field.

Enter Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Oxford, and Dorfet.
RICH. The weary fun hath made a golden fet,
And, by the bright tract of his fiery car,
Gives fignal of a goodly day to-morrow.

-Sir William Brandon, you fhall 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 goeft;
Where is my lord Stanley quarter'd, doft thou know?
BLUNT. Unless I have mista'en his quarters much,
Which well I am affur'd, 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.
RLCHм. Give me fome ink and paper; in my tent

I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
Limit each leader to his feveral charge,

And part in just proportion our small strength.
Let us confult upon to-morrow's business.

[They withdraw into the tent.

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

SCENE changes back to King Richard's tent. Enter king Richard, Ratcliff, Norfolk, and Catesby.

KRICH. What is't o'clock ?

CATES. It's fupper time, my Lord; It's nine o'clock.

K. RICH. I will not fup to-night. Give me fome 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, Ufe careful watch, chufe trufty centinels.

NOR. Igo, my lord.

K. RICH. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. NOR. I warrant you, my lord.

K. RICH. Cateby

CATES. My lord.

K. RICH. Send out a purfuivant at arms
To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
Before fun-rifing, left his fon George fall

Into the blind cave of eternal night.

[Exit.

Fill me a bowl of wine

-give me a watch

[To Ratcliff.

Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.

Look, that my ftaves be found, and not too heavy.
Ratcliff-

RAT. My lord ?