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SCENE I. SALISBURY. An open Place. Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM,

led to Execution.
Buck. Will not king Richard let me speak with him?
Sheriff. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers,

Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vanghan, and all that have miscarried
By underhand corrupted foul injustice;
If that your moody discontented souls
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction !
This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?

Sheriff. It is, my lord.
Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's

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

I wish'd might 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 iny wrongs.
That high All-seer which I dallied with,
Hath turn’d my feigned prayer on my head,
And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
Thas doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turn their own poinis on their masters' bosoms:
Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck,-
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 11. Plain near TAMWORTH. Enter, with Drum and Colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD,

Sir JAMES BLUNT, SIR WALTER HERBERT, 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

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,

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 name,

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

[Exeunt. SCENE III. Bosworth Field. Enter King RICHARD and Forces; the DUKE of

NORFOLK, EARL of SURRY, and others. K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth

My lord of Surry, why look you so sad?

Surry. My heart is ten times lighter than
K. Rich. My lord of Norfolk,-

Here, most gracious liege. K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks; Ha! inust Nor. We must both give and take, my loving lord. K. Rich. Up with my tent: Here will I lie to-night;

[Soldiers begin to set up the King's Tent. But where, to-morrow ?-Well, all's one for that. Who hath descried the number of the traitors?

Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.

K. Rich. Wby, our battalia trebles that accouut: Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse faction want, Up with the tent.—Come, noble gentleinen, 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.

my looks.

we not?

Enter, on the other side of the Field, RICHMOND, SIR

Some of the Soldiers pitch Richmond's Tent.

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

sball bear


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 Oxford, -you, sir William Brandon,
And you, sir Walter Herbert, stay with me:
The earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment;---
Good captain Blunt, bear my good night to him,
And by ihe 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 inuch
(Which, well I am assurd, 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 some good means to speak with him,
And give him from me this most needful note.
Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it;

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

gentlemen, Let us consult upon to-morrow's business; Into 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?

It's supper-time, my lord ; It's nine o'clock.

And so,


K. Rich. I will not sup to-night.-
Give me some ink and paper.-
What, is


beaver easier than it was ?And all my armour laid into my tent?

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

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge;
Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.

Nor. I go, my lord.
K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Nor-

Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

[Erit. K. Rich. Ratcliff, Rat. My lord?

K. Rich: Send out a pursuivant at arms
'To Stanley's regiment; bid hiin bring his power
Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall
Into the blind cave of eternal night.-
Fill me a bowl of wine.-Give me a watch:-

[To Catesby.
Saddle white Surry for the field to-morrow.-
Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.

Rat. My lord?
K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northum-

Rat. Thoinas the earl of Surry, and himself,
Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop,
Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.

K. Rich. I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of winc:
I have not that alacrity of spirit,
Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.-
So, set it down. Is ink and paper ready?

Rat. It is, my lord.
K. Rich.

Bid my guard watch; leavo me.
About the mid of night, come to my tent
And help to arm me.-Leave me, I say.
[King Richard retires into his Tent. Excunt

Ratcliff and Catesby.

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