And towards London do they bend their power,
If by the way they be not fought withal,

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy Lord: Ikifs his hand. My letter will refolve him of

Farewel,

my

mind.

400

[Exeunt.

Enter the Sheriff, and Buckingham, with halberds, led to F

W

Execution.

BUCKINGHAM.

ILL not King Richard let me speak with him? Sher. No, good my Lord, therefore be patient. Buck. Haftings, and Edward's childrer, Gray and Rivers, Holy King Henry, and thy fair fon Edward, og set Vaughan, and all that have mifcarried

By under-hand, corrupted, foul injuftice od

If that your moody, difcontented fouls,

aw TLOY

Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Ev'n for revenge mock my deftru&tion.

This is All-fouls 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 wifht might fall on me, when I was found gen
Falfe to his children, or his wife's allies.'
This is the day, wherein I wifht to fall

By the falfe faith of him whom moft I trusted
This, this All-fouls day to my fearful foul!
Is the determin'd refpite of my wrongs, wizi sqed
That high All-feer, which I dallied with,
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head,
And giv'n in earnest, what I begg'd in jeft.
Thus doth he force the fwords of wicked men

Το

To turn their own points on their masters' bofoms.
Thus Margret's curfe falls heavy on my head;

When he, quoth fhe, fhall fplit thy heart with forrow,
Remember, Margret was a Prophetess.

Come, Sirs, convey me to the block of fhame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. [Exeunt Buckingham, Sheriff and Officers.

SCENE, on the borders of Leicester-Shire.
A Camp.

Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, with Drum and Colours.

Richm. Ellows in arms, and my moft loving friends, RichmBruis'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 ufurping boar,
(That fpoil'd your fummer-felds, and fruitful vines,)
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowell'd bofoms; this foul fwine.
Lies now e'en in the centre of this isle,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn:
From Tamworth thither is but one days march.
In God's name cheerly on, couragious friends,
To reap the harveft of perpetual peace,
By this one bloody trial of fharp war.

Oxf. Ev'ry 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 deareft need will fly from him.

Rich. All for our vantage; then, in God's name, march True hope is fwift, and flies with fwallow's wings; Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings..

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE changes to Bofworth Field.

Enter King Richard in arms, with Norfolk, Surrey, Ratcliff, Catesby, and others.

K. Rich.

ERE pitch our tents, even here in Bofworth field.

HER

My Lord of Surrey, why look you fo fad ?

Surr. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
K. Rich. My Lord of Norfolk,

Nor. Here, moft gracious Liege.

K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks: ha, muft we not? Nor. We muft 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 ftrength, Which they upon the adverse 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 bufy day.

[Exeunt

SCENE changes to another Part of Bofworth field.

Enter Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Oxford, and

Dorfet.

Richm. And, by the bright tract of his fiery car, HE weary fun hath made a golden fet,

Gives fignal of a goodly day to-morrow.

Sir William Brandon, you fhall bear my ftandard:
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

Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou goeft;
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, doft thou know?
Blunt. Unless I have mifta'en his colours much,
(Which, well I am affur'd, I have not done)
His regiment lies half a mile at leaft

South from the mighty power of the King.
Richm. If without peril it be poffible,

Sweet Blunt, make fome good means to fpeak with him,
And give him from me this most needful note.

Blunt. Upon my life, my Lord, I'll undertake it.
Richm. Give me fome 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 confult upon to-morrow's business;
In to our tent, the air is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the Tent..

SCENE changes back to King Richard's Tent.

Enter King Richard, Ratcliff, Norfolk, and Catefby. Hat is't o'clock?

K. Rich. W Calef. It's fupper time, my Lord;

It's nine a clock.

K. Rich. I will not fap to-night. Give me some ink and paper.

What, is my beaver easier than it was?

And all my armour laid into my tent?

Catef. 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. I go, my Lord.

K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.

Nor. I warrant you, my Lord.

K. Rich. Catesby,

Catef. My Lord.

K. Rich. Send out a purfuivant at arms

[Exite

To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
Before fun-rifing, left his fon George fall

Into the blind cave of eternal night.

VOL. V.

N

Fill

Fill me a bowl of wine- -give me a watch

[To Ratcliff.

Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow:
Look, that my faves be found, and not too heavy.
Ratcliff

Rat. My Lord ?

fland?

K. Rich Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord NorthumberRat. Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, Much about cock-fhut time, from troop to troop: Went through the army, cheering up the foldiers.

K. Rich. I am fatisfy'd; give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of fpirit,

Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have-
There, fet it down. Is ink and paper ready?
Rat. It is, my Lord.

K. Rich. Bid my guard watch, and leave me.
About the mid of night come to my tent,
And help to arm me. Leave me now, I say.

[Exit Ratcliff, SCENE changes back to Richmond's Tent.

Stan

Enter Stanley to Richmond; Lords, &c.

Ortune and victory fit on thy helm !·

F. Rich. All comfort, that the dark night can afford,

Be to thy perfon, noble father-in-law !

Tell me, how fares our loving mother?

Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother; Who prays continually for Richmond's good: So much for that-The filent hours fteal on, And Raky darkness breaks within the east. In brief, for fo the feafon bids us be, Prepare thy battle early in the morning; And put thy fortune to th' arbitrement Of bloody ftrokes, and mortal staring war. I, as I may, (that which I would, I cannot) With best advantage will deceive the time, And aid thee in this doubtful fhock of arms. But on thy fide I may not be too forward, Left (being feen) thy brother tender George

Be