On other occasions, I have seen him here.

P. R. Brother, last night, when you did send for me My mother told me, hearing we should lodge

Within the Tower, that it was a prison,

And therefore marvell'd that my uncle Gloster,
Of all the houses for a king's receipt

Within this city, had appointed none

Where you might keep your court but only here.

Glos. Vile brats! how they do descant on the Tower! My gentle nephew, they were ill advised

To tutor you with such unfitting terms

(Who'er they were) against this royal mansion.

What if some part of it hath been reserv'd

To be a prison for nobility?

Follows it, therefore, that it cannot serve

To any other use? Cæsar himself,

That built the same, within it kept his court,

And many kings since him: the rooms are large,
The building stately, and for strength beside,
It is the safest and the surest hold you have.
P. Ed. Uncle of Gloster! if you think it so,
"Tis not for me to contradict your will;
We must allow it, and are well content.
Glos. On then, a God's name!

Yet before we go,

P. Ed.
One question more with you, master Lieutenant:
We like you well; and, but we do perceive
More comfort in your looks than in these walls,
For all our uncle Gloster's friendly speech,
Our hearts would be as heavy still as lead.
I pray you tell me, at which door or gate
Was it my uncle Clarence did go in,

When he was sent a pris'ner to this place?

Bra. At this, my liege! Why sighs your majesty ?

P. Ed. He went in here that ne'er came back again! But as God hath decreed, so let it be !

Come, brother, shall we go?

P. R. Yes, brother; any where with you.

[Exeunt the Princes, Gloster, and Lovell, Brackenbury

Tyr. (pulls Catesby by the sleeve.)

the duke,

Or stay his leisure till his back return?

and Shore.

Sir, were it best I did attend

Cat. I pray you, master Tyrrel, stay without:
It is not good you should be seen by day
Within the Tower, especially at this time;
I'll tell his honour of your being here,

And you shall know his pleasure presently.

Tyr. Even so, sir. Men would be glad by any means To raise themselves, that have been overthrown

By fortune's scorn; and I am one of them.

Thy name, I hear, is Tyrrel, is it not?

Tyr. James Tyrrel is my name, my gracious lord!

Glos. Welcome! it should appear that thou hast been

In better state than now it seems thou art.

Tyr. I have been, by my fay, my lord! though now depress'd And clouded over with adversity.

Glos. Be rul'd by me, and thou shalt rise again,

And prove more happy than thou ever wast

There is but only two degrees by which

It shall be needful for thee to ascend,

And that is, faith and taciturnity.

Tyr. If ever I prove false unto your grace,
Convert your favour to afflictions.

Glos. But can'st thou too be secret?
Tyr. Try me, my lord.

This tongue was never known to be a blab.

Glos. Thy countenance hath, like a silver key,
Open'd the closet of my heart. Read there;
If, scholar-like, thou can'st expound those lines,
Thou art the man ordain'd to serve my turn.

Tyr. So far as my capacity will reach,

The sense, my lord, is this. This night, you say,

The two young princes both must suffer death.

Glos. Thou hast my meaning. Wilt thou do it? speak.
Tyr. It shall be done.

SCENE II-A Bed-room in the Tower.

Enter the two young Princes, Edward and Richard, in their

bedgowns and caps.

Ric. How does your lordship?

Well, good brother Richard.

Ed.
How does yourself? you told me your head ached.
Ric. Indeed it does, my lord! feel with your hands
How hot it is!

Ed.

Indeed you have caught cold,
With sitting yesternight to hear me read.

I pray thee go to bed, sweet Dick! poor little heart.
Ric. You'll give me leave to wait upon your lordship.
Ed. I had more need, brother, to wait on you,

For you are sick; and so am not I.

Ric. Oh, lord! methinks this going to our bed, How like it is to going to our grave.

Ed. I pray thee, do not speak of graves, sweet heart,
Indeed thou frightest me.

Ric. Why, my lord brother, did not our tutor teach us,
That when at night we went unto our bed,

We still should think we went unto our grave.

Ed. Yes, that's true,

If we should do as ev'ry Christian ought,

To be prepar'd to die at ev'ry hour.

But I am heavy.

Ed. Then let us say our prayers and go to bed.

[They kneel, and solemn music within. It ceases and they rise.

Ric. What, bleeds your grace?

Ed. Ay, two drops and no more.

Ric. God bless us both; and I desire no more.

Ed. Brother, see here what David says, and so say I:
Lord! in thee will I trust, although I die.

[Exeunt.

143.-BOSWORTH FIELD.

HALL.

"Tidings came that the Earl of Richmond was passed Severn, and come to Shrewsbury without any detriment or encumbrance. At which message he (Richard) was sore moved and broiled with melancholy and dolour; and cried out, asking vengeance of them that contrary to their oath and promise had fraudulently deceived him." But with his wonted energy "he determined himself out of hand the same day to occur and resist his adversaries." He was then "keeping his house in the castle of Nottingham." The Chronicler proceeds: "Then he, environed with his satellites and yeomen of the crown, with a frowning countenance and truculent aspect, mounted on a great white courser, followed with his footmen, the wings of horsemen coasting and ranging on every side. And keeping this array, he with great pomp entered the town of Leicester after the sunset." At Leicester Richard slept at a house which still remains. Hutton, in his 'Battle of Bosworth Field,' thus describes the old house and its appurtenances :-"In the Northgate Street yet stands a large handsome half-timber house, with one story projecting over the other, formerly an inn, the Blue Boar; hence an adjoining street derived its name, now corrupted into Blubber-lane. In one of the apartments Richard rested that night. The room seems to have been once elegant, though now in disuse. He brought his own bedstead, of wood, large, and in some places gilt. It continued there 200 years after he left the place, and its remains are now in the possession of Alderman Drake. It had a wooden bottom, and under that a false one, of the same materials, like a floor and its under ceiling. Between these two bottoms was concealed a quantity of gold coin, worth about 3007. of our present money, but then worth many times that sum. Thus he personally watched his treasure, and slept on his military chest."

"The Earl of Richmond," says the Chronicler, "raised his camp, and departed from Lichfield to the town of Tamworth." Shakspere carefully follows the localities of the historians :

"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."

We continue the narrative of Hall :

"In the mean season King Richard (which was appointed now to finish his last labour by the very divine justice and providence of God, which called him to condign punishment for his scelerate merits and mischievous deserts) marched to a place meet for two battles to encounter, by a village called Bosworth, not far from Leicester, and there he pitched his field, refreshed his soldiers, and took his rest. The fame went that he had the same night a dreadful and a terrible dream; for it seemed to him, being asleep, that he saw divers images like terrible devils, which pulled and hauled him, not suffering him to take any quiet or rest. The which strange vision not so suddenly strake his heart with a sudden fear, but it stuffed his head and troubled his mind with many dreadful and busy imaginations; for incontinent after, his heart being almost damped, he prognosticated before the doubtful chance of the battle to come, not using the alacrity and mirth of mind and of countenance as he was accustomed to do before he came toward the battle. And lest that it might be suspected that he was abashed for fear of his enemies, and for that cause looked so piteously, he recited and declared to his familiar friends in the morning his wonderful vision and terrible dream."

The plan of the battle is minutely detailed in the narratives. According to the usual practice of the Chroniclers they give us long orations, by the respective leaders, previous to the battle being joined. The legend of 'Jocky of Norfolk' is told thus by Hall :-" Of the nobility were slain John Duke of Norfolk, which was warned by divers to refrain from the field, insomuch that the night before he should set forward toward the king one wrote on his gate,

"Jack of Norfolk, be not too bold,

For Dykon thy master is bought and sold."

The battle and the victory are thus described by Hall with the accustomed spirit of these old masters of our language:—

"He had scantly finished his saying but the one army espied the other. Lord! how hastily the soldiers buckled their helms! how quickly the archers bent their bows and frushed their feathers! how readily the billmen shook their bills and proved their staves! ready to approach and join when the terrible trumpet should sound the bloody blast to victory or death. Between both armies there was a great morass, which the Earl of Richmond left on his right hand, for this intent, that it should be on that side a defence for his part: and in so doing he had the sun at his back and in the faces of his enemies. When King Richard saw the earl's company was passed the morass, he commanded with all haste to set upon them; then the trumpets blew and the soldiers shouted, and the king's archers courageously let fly their arrows: the earl's bowmen stood not still, but paid them home again. The terrible shot once passed, the armies joined and came to handstrokes, where neither sword nor bill was spared; at which encounter the Lord Stanley joined with the earl. The Earl of Oxford in the mean season, fearing lest while his company was fighting they should be compassed and circumvented with the multitude of his enemies, gave commandment in every rank that no man should be so hardy as go above ten foot from the standard; which commandment once known, they knit themselves together, and ceased a little from fighting. The adversaries, suddenly abashed at the matter, and mistrusting some fraud or deceit, began also to pause, and left striking, and not against the wills of many, which had liefer had the king destroyed than saved, and therefore they fought very faintly or stood still. The Earl of Oxford, bringing all his band together on the one part, set on his enemies freshly. Again, the adversaries perceiving that, placed their men slender and thin before, and thick and broad behind, beginning again hardily tae battle. While the two forwards thus mortally fought, each intending to vanquish

and convince the other, King Richard was admonished by his explorators and espials that the Earl of Richmond, accompanied with a small number of men of arms, was not far off; and as he approached and marched toward him, he perfectly knew his personage by certain demonstrations and tokens which he had learnt and known of other; and being inflamed with ire and vexed with outrageous malice, he put his spurs to his horse and rode out of the side of the range of his battle, leaving the avant-gardes fighting, and like a hungry lion ran with spear in rest toward him. The Earl of Richmond perceived well the king furiously coming toward him, ani, by cause the whole hope of his wealth and purpose was to be determined by battle he gladly proffered to encounter with him body to body and man to man. King Richard set on so sharply at the first brunt that he overthrew the earl's standard and slew Sir William Brandon, his standard-bearer, (which was father to Sir Charles Brandon, by King Henry the Eighth created Duke of Suffolk,) and matched hand to hand with Sir John Cheinye, a man of great force and strength, which would have resisted him, and the said John was by him manfully overthrown, and so he making open passage by dint of sword as he went forward, the Earl of Richmond withstood his violence and kept him at the sword's point without advantage longer than his companions other thought or judged; which, being almost in despair of victory, were suddenly recomforted by Sir William Stanley, which came to succours with iii thousand tall men, at which very instant King Richard's men were driven back and fled, and he himself, manfully fighting in the middle of his enemies, was slain and brought to his death as he worthily had deserved.

"When the earl had thus obtained victory, and slain his mortal enemy, he knelt down and rendered to Almighty God his hearty thanks, with devout and godly orisons, beseeching his goodness to send him grace to advance and defend the Catholic faith, and to maintain justice and concord amongst his subjects and people, by God now to his governance committed and assigned: which prayer finished, he replenished with incomparable gladness, ascended up to the top of a little mountain, where he not only praised and lauded his valiant soldiers, but also gave unto them his hearty thanks, with promise of condign recompense for their fidelity and valiant facts, willing and commanding all the hurt and wounded persons to be cured, and the dead carcases to be delivered to the sepulchre. Then the people rejoiced and clapped hands, crying up to heaven, king Henry, king Henry. When the Lord Stanley saw the good will and gratitude of the people, he took the crown of King Richard, which was found amongst the spoil in the field, and set it on the earl's head, as though he had been elected king by the voice of the people, as in antient times past in divers realms it hath been accustomed, and this was the first sign and token of his felicity.

144.-LAMBERT SIMNELL.

LORD BACON.

There followed this year, being the second of the king's reign, a strange accident of state, whereof the relations which we have are so naked, as they leave it scarce credible; not for the nature of it, for it hath fallen out often, but for the manner and circumstances of it, especially in the beginnings. Therefore we shall make our judgment upon the things themselves, as they give light one to another, and as we can dig truth out of the mine. The king was green in his estate; and contrary to his own opinion and desert both, was not without much hatred throughout the realm. The root of all was the discountenancing of the House of York; which the general body of the realm still affected. This did alienate the hearts of the subjects from him daily more and more, especially when they saw, that after his