me not.

K. Rich. Where is thy power then, to beat him back?

Where be thy tenants, and thy followers?
Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?
Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in
the north.

K. Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in the north, [west? When they should serve their sovereign in the Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king:

Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,
I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace,
Where, and what time, your majesty shall
please.

K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with Richmond:

I will not trust you, Sir.

Stan. Most mighty sovereign,

You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful;

I never was, nor never will be, false.

K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind

Your son, George Stanley; look your heart be Or else his head's assurance is but frail. [firm, Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you. [Exit STANLEY.

Enter a MESSENGER.

If they were his assistants, yea, or no;
Who answer'd him, they caine from Bucking-
Upon his party: he, mistrusting them, [ham
Hois'd sail, and made his course again for
Bretagne.

K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up in arms;

If not to fight with foreign enemies,
Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.
Enter CATESBY.

Cate. My liege, the duke of Buckingham is taken, [mond That is the best news; That the earl of RichIs with a mighty power landed at Milford, Is colder news, but yet they must be told.

K. Rich. Away towards Salisbury; while we reason here,

A royal battle might be won and lost:-
Some one take order, Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury;-the rest march on with me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A Room in Lord STANLEY'S

House.

vonshire,

As I by friends am well advertised,

Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate,
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
With many more confederates, are in arms.

Enter another MESSENGER.

2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms;

And every hour more competitors [strong. Flock to the rebels, and their power grows

Enter another MESSENGER.

3 Mess. My lord, the army of great Buckingham

K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of death? [He strikes him. There, take thou that, till thou bring better

news.

3 Mess. The news I have to tell your majesty,

Is,-that, by sudden floods and fall of waters,

But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west, in

Wales.

Stan. What men of name resort to him? Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned sol

dier;

Sir Gilbert Talbert, Sir William Stanley;
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
And many other of great fame and worth:
If by the way they be not fought withal.
And towards London do they bend their course,

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord; commend Tell him, the queen hath heartily consented me to him; He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter. These letters will resolve him of my mind. Farewell. [Gives papers to Sir CHRISTOPHER. [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Salisbury.—An open place.

And he himself wander'd away alone,

No man knows whither.

K. Rich. O, I cry you mercy:

There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd Reward to him that brings the traitor in? 3 Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.

Enter another MESSENGER.

4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord marquis Dorset,

"Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. But this good comfort bring I to your high

ness,

The Bretagne navy is dispers'd by tempest: Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat

* Associates

HAM, led to execution.

Sher. No, my good lord; therefore be patient. Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward, Rivers, Grey, Vaughan, and all that have miscarried By underhand corrupted foul injustice; Do through the clouds behold this present hour, If that your moody discontented souls Even 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.

* Force. +Chaplain to the countess of Richmond. ↑ A sty in which hogs are set apart for fattening.

his is the day, which, in king Edward's time, i wish'd night fall on me, when I was found False to his children, or his wife's allies: This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall By the false faith of him whom most I trusted; This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul, Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.* That high All-seer which I dallied with, Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head, And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms: [neck,Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my When he, quoth she, shall split thy heart with

sorrow,

Remember Margaret was a prophetess.-
Come, Sirs, convey me to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of

blame. [Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, &c.

SCENE II.-Plain near Tamworth.

Enter, with drum and colours, RICHMOND, OX-
FORD, Sir JAMES BLUNT, Sir WALTER HER-
BERT, and others, with forces, marching.
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 wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,
That spoil'd 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 even 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, courageous 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.

Herb. I doubt not, but his friends will turn

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 [wings, name, march: True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Bosworth Field. Enter King RICHARD, and forces; the Duke of NORFOLK, Earl of SURREY, and others.

K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field.

My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?
Sur. 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 knocks;
Ha! must we not?

Nor. We must both give and take, my lov-
ing lord,

* Injurious practices.

Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want.
Up with the tent.-Come, noble gentlemen,
Let us survey the vantage of the ground;—
Call for some men of sound direction:-
Let's want no discipline, make no delay;
For, lords, to morrow is a busy day. [Exeunt.
Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND,
Sir WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, and other
Lords. Some of the soldiers pitch RICHMOND'S
tent.

And, by the bright track of his fiery car, [set,
Richm. The weary sun hath made a golden
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow."
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my stan-
dard.-

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 power.
My lord of Ŏxford,—you, Sir William Bran-
don,-

And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me:
The earl of Pembroke keepst his regiment;-
Good captain Blunt, bear my good night to
him,

And by the second hour in the morning
Desire the earl to see me in my tent:-
Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me;
Where is lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?
Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colours

much,

(Which, well I am assur'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 possible, Sweet Blunt, make good some means to speak with him,

And give him from me this most needful note. Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake

it;

And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!
Richm. Good night, good captain Blunt.
Come, gentlemen,

Let us consult upon to-morrow's business;
In to my tent, the air is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the Tent, Enter, to his Tent, King RICHARD, NORFOLK, RATCLIFF, and CATESBY.

K. Rich. What is't o'clock?
Cate. 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?

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

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge;

Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.
Nor. I go, my lord.

If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; If you do fight against your country's foes, four country's fat shall pay your pains the hire;

If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;

If you do free your children from the sword,
Your children's children quit it in your age.
Then in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards, draw your willing
swords;

For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt [face;
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly and cheer-
fully;

God, and Saint George! Richmond, and vic-
tory!
[Exeunt.
Re-enter King Richard, Ratcliff, Allendunts,

and Forces.

K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching Richmond?

Rat. That he was never trained up in arms. K. Rich. He said the truth: And what said Surrey then?

Rat. He smil'd and said, the better for our purpose.

K. Rich. He was i'the right; and so, indeed, it is. [Clock strikes. Tell the clock there.-Give me a calendar.Who saw the sun to-day? Rat. Not I, my lord.

K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for, by the book,

He should have brav'dt the east an hour ago: A black day will it be to somebody.— Ratcliff,

the field.

K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle;—Caparison my horse;

Call up lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:-
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
And thus my battle shall be ordered.

My foreward shall be drawn out all in length,
Consisting equally of horse and foot;
Our archers shall be placed in the midst:
John duke of Norfolk, Thomas earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
They thus directed, we ourself will follow
In the main battle; whose puissance on either

side

Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. This, and Saint George to boot!-What think'st thou, Norfolk?

Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign. This found I on my tent this morning. [Giving a scroll. K. Rich. Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold, [reads. For Dickont thy master is bought and sold. * Requite. + Made it splendid. The ancient familiarization of Richard.

A thing devised by the enemy.—

Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge: Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe; Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.

March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell; If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.

What shall I say more than I have inferr'd
Remember whom you are to cope withal;—
A sort* of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways,
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assur'd destruction
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest;
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous
wives,

They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them, but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
Lash hence these over-weening rags of France,
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,,
For want of means, poor rats, had "hang'd

themselves:

If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us, And not these bastard Bretagnes; whom our fathers [thump'd, Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and And, on record, left them the heirs of shame. Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives? Ravish our daughters?-Hark, 1 hear their drum. [Drum afar of Fight, gentlemen of England! night, bold yeo

men!

Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!

Enter a MESSENGER.

What says lord Stanley? will he bring b power?

Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come. K. Rich. Off instantly with his son George's head.

Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within Advance our standards, set upon our foes; my bosom: Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,

Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Another part of the field. Alarum: Excursions. Enter NORFOLK, and Forces; to him CATESBY.

Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue. rescue!

The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger;

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
Alarum. Enter King RICHARD.
K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for
a horse!