Glost. [Reads.] Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon, thy master, is bought and sold.
A weak invention of the enemy!

Come, gentlemen, now each man to his chargé,
And ere we do bestride our foaming steeds,
Remember whom you have to cope withak;
A scum of Britons, rascals, runaways!
Whom their o'ercloy'd country vomits forth
To desperate adventures and destruction.
Enter CATESBY.

What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Catesby. He does refuse, my lord-he will not stir.
Glost. Off with his son George's head!

Nor. My lord, the foe's already past the marsh-
After the battle let young Stanley die.
Glost. Why, after be it then.

A thousand hearts are swelling in my bosom:
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood!
And thou, our warlike champion, thrice renown'd
St. George, inspire me with the rage of lions!
Upon them!-Charge!-Follow me!

calls!

[Exeunt, SOLDIERS driven across the Stage by GLOSTER, &c. Glost. What, ho! young Richmond, ho. ti Richard I hate thee, Harry, for thy blood of Lancaster! Now, if thou dost not hide thee from my sword, Now, while the angry trumpet sounds alarms, And dying groans transpierce the wounded air, Richmond, I say come forth, and singly face me! Richard is hoarse with daring thee to arms!

Enter CATESBY and NORFolk.

[Exit.

Catesby. Rescue! rescue! My Lord of Norfolk, haste! 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: Nay, haste, my lord!-the day's against us.

Enter GIOSTER and RATCLIFF.

[Exeunt.

Glost. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
Rat. This way, this way, my lord-below yon thicket
Stands a swift horse-away! ruin pursues us;
Withdraw, my lord, for only flight can save you.
Glost. Slave! I have set my life upon a cast,

And I will stand the hazard of the die.
I think there be six Richmonds in the field!
Five have I slain to-day instead of him.
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
Enter RICHMOND.

Of one or both of us the time is come!

Rich. Kind Heaven, I thank thee, for my cause is

If Richard's fit to live, let Richmond fall.

[thine!

Glost. Thy gallant bearing, Harry, I could 'plaud,

But that the spotted rebel stains the soldier.

Rich. Nor should thy prowess, Richard, want my praise,

Act V But that thy cruel deeds have stampt thee tyrint. So thrive my sword, as Heaven's high vengeance draws it! Glost. My soul and body on the action, both!

Rich. A dreadful lay, here's to decide it.[Fight-Gr..falls Glost. Perdition catch thy arm!-the chance is thine! But oh! the vast renown thou hast acquired, In conquering Richard, does afflict him more Than even his body's parting with its soul. Now, let the world no longer be a stage, To feed contention in a lingering act; But let one spirit of the first-born Cain Reign in all bosoms; that, each heart being set On bloody actions, the rude scene may end, And darkness be the burier of the dead!

[Dies

Enter OXFORD, LORD STANLEY, and SOLDIERS, with

KING RICHARD's Crown.

Rich. Oh, welcome, friends; my noble father, welcome Heaven and our arms be praised, the day is ours! See there, my lords, stern Richard is no more!

[thee
Stanley. Victorious Richmond, well thou hast acquitte
And see, the just reward that Heaven has sent thee:
Among the glorious spoils of Bosworth Field,
We've found the crown, which now in right is thine:
'Tis doubly tline, by conquest and by choice.
Long live Henry the Seventh, King of England! [Trumpets
Rich. Next to just Heaven, my noble countrymen,
I owe my thanks to you, whose love I'm proud of;
And ruling well shall speak my gratitude.

But now, my lords, what friends of us are missing?
Pray, tell me, is young George Stanley living?

Stanley. He is, my liege, and safe in Leicester town,
Whither, if you please, we may withdraw us.
Enter OFFICER.

Offi. My lord, the queen, and fair Elizabeth,
Her beauteous daughter, some few miles off,
Are on their way to 'gratulate your victory.

Rich. Ay, there indeed my toil's rewarded!
Let us prepare to meet them, lords-and then,
As we're already bound by solemn vows,
We'll twine the roses red and white together,
And both from one kind stalk shall flourish :
England has long been mad, and scared herself
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood;
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son;
The bloody son, compell'd, has kill'd his sire.
O, now, let Henry and Elizabeth,
The true successors of each royal house,
Conjoin'd together, heal those deadly wounds!
And be that wretch of all mankind abhorr'd,
That would reduce those bloody days again;
Ne'er let him live to taste our joy's increase,

That would with treason wound fair England's peace! [E

THE END.

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