come,

That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,

And in the breath of bitter words let's smother That reigns in galled eyes of weeping souls, My damned son, that thy two sweet sons smother'd. Thy womb let loose to chase us to our graves.

[Drum within. O upright, just, and true-disposing God,

I hear his drum,-be copious in exclaims. How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur

Enter KING RICHARD, and his Train, marching. Preys on the issue of his mother's body,, And makes her pew-fellows with others' moan! K. Rich. Who intercepts me in my expedition?

Duch. O, Harry's wife, triúmph not in my woes; Duch. O, she, that might have intercepted thee, God witness with me, I have wept for thine. By strangling thee in her accursed womb,

Q. Mar. Bear with me, I am hungry for revenge, From all the slaughters, wretch, that thou hast done. And now I cloy me with beholding it.

Q. Eliz. Hid'st thou that forehead with a golden Thy Edward he is dead, that kill'd my Edward;

crown, Tliy other Edward dead to quit my Edward; Where should be branded, if that right were right, Young Fork he is but boot, because both they The slaughter of the prince that ow'da that crown. Match not the high perfection of my loss.

And the dire death ot' my poor sons and brothers Thy Clarence he is dead that stabb'd my Edward; Tell me, thou villain-slave, where are my children? And the beholders of this tragic play,

Duch. Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy broThe adulterate Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, Grey,

ther Clarence ? Untimely smother'd in their dusky graves.

And little Ned Plantagenet, his son ? Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer;

Q. Eliz. Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan, Only reserv'd their factor to buy souls,

Grey ? And send them thither: But at hand, at hand,

Duch. Where is kind Hastings? Ensues his piteous and unpitied end:

K. Rich. A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray,

drums! To have him suddenly convey'd from hence : Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I pray,

Rail on the Lord's anointed: Strike, I say:That I may live to say, The dog is dead!

(Flourish. Alarums Q. Eliz. O, thou didst prophesy the time would Either be patient, and entreat me fair,

Or with the clamorous report of war That I should wish for thee to help me curse Thus will I drown your exclamations. That bottled spider, that foul bunch-back'd toad. Duch. Art thou my son ? Q. Mar. I call'd thee then, vain flourish of my K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourfortune;

self. I call'd thee then, poor shadow, painted queen; Duch. Then patiently hear my impatience. The presentation of but what I was,

K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your conThe flattering index of a direful pageant,

dition,3 One heav'd a high, to be huri'd down below: That cannot brook the accent of reproof. A mother only mock'd with two fair babes;

Duch. 0, let me speak. A dream of what thou wast, a garish' flag,

K. Rich.

Do, then; but I'll not hear. To be the aim of every dangerous shot;

Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my words. A sign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;

K. Rich. And brief, good mother; for I am in A queen in jest, only to fill the scene.

haste. Where is thy husband now? where be thy brothers? Duch. Art thou so hasty? I have staid for thee, Where be thy two sons? wherein dost thou joy? God knows, in torment and in agony. Who sues, and kneels, and says—God save the K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? qucen?

Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well, Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee? Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee? A grievous burden was thy birth to me; Decline all this, and see what now thou art. Tetchy, and wayward was thy infancy; For happy wife, a most distressed widow;

Thy school-day's, frightful, desperate, wild, and For joyful mother, one that wails the name;

furious ; For one being sued to, one that humbly sues; Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous; For qucen, a very caitiff crown'd with care; Thy age confirin'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, For one that scorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me; More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred : For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one; What comfo:table hour canst thou name, For one cominanding all, obey'd of none.

That ever graced me in thy company ? Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about, K. Rich. 'Faith none, but Humphrey Hour, that And left thee but a very prey to time;

call'd your grace Having no more but thought of what thou wert, To breakfast once, forth of my company. To torture thee the more, being what thou art. II be so disgracious in your sight, Thou didst usurp my place; and dost thou not Let me march on, and not offend you, madam."Usurp the just proportion of my sorrow?

Strike up the drum. Now thy proud neck bears half my burden'd yoke; Duch.

I prythee, hear me speak. From which even here I slip my wearied head, K. Rich. You speak too bitterly. And leave the burden of it all on thee.

Duch.

Hear me a word; Farewell, York's wife,-and queen of sad mis- For I shall never speak to thee again. chance,

K. Rich. So. These English woes shall make me smile in France. Duch. Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordi. Q. Eliz. O thou well skill'd in curses, stay awhile,

nance, And teach me how to curse mine enemies!

Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror: Q. Mar. Forbear to sleep the night, and fast the Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish, day;

And never look upon thy face again. Compare dead happiness with living woe;

Therefore, take with thee my most heavy curse; Think that thy babes were fairer than they were, Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more, And he that slew them, fouler than he is:

Than all the complete armor that thou wear'st! Bettering thy loss makes the bad-causer worse; My prayers on the adverse party fight: Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. And there the little souls of Edward's children Q. Eliz. My words are dull, o quicken them Whisper the spirits of thine enemies, with ihine!

And promise them success and victory; Q. Mar. Thy woes will make them sharp, and Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

pierce like mine. [Exit Q. MARGARET. Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend. Duch. Why should calamity be full of words?

[Exit.. Q. Eliz. Windy attornies to their client woes, Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less Airy succeeders of intestate joys,

spirit to curse Poor breathing orators of miseries!

Abides in me; I say amen to her. (Going. Let them have scope: though what they do impart K. Rich. Stay, madam, I must speak a word with Help nothing else, yet do they ease the heart.

you. Duch. If so, then be not tongue-tyed: go with me, Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood, • Companion. • Thrown into the bargain. Flaring. » Owned. • Disposition. • Cross. • Touchy, fretful.

For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard,-- Q. Eliz. Send to her, by the man that slew her They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;

brothers, And therefore level not to hit their lives.

A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave, K. Rich. You have a daughter call’d-Elizabeth, Edward, and York; then, haply,9 will she weep: Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

Therefore present to her,--as sometime Margaret Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O, let her live, Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty; A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain Slander myself, as false to Edward's bed

The purple sap from her sweet brother's body, Throw over her the veil of intamy:

And bid her wipe her werping eyes withal.
So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter, li this inducement move her not to love,
I will contess she was not Edward's daughter. Send her a leiter of thy noble deeds ;

k. Rich. Wrong not her birth, she is of royal blood. Tell her, thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say—she is not so. Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her sake,
Á. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt
Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers.

Anne. K. Rich. Lo, at their births, good stars were K. Rich. You mock me, madam; this is not the opposite.

way Q. Eliz. No, to their lives bad friends were con- To win your daughter. trary:

Q. Eliz.

There is no other way; K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny. Unless thou couldst put on some other shape,

Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny: And not be Richard that hath done all this. My babes were destined to a fairer death,

K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her? If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer lite.

Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed, she cannot choose K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my

but have thee, cousins.

Having bought love with such a bloody spoil. Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now cozen d

amended; Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes, Whose hands soever lanced their tender hearts,

Which ailer-hours give leisure to repent. Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction :

If I did take the kingdom from your sons, No doubt the murderous knute was dull and blunt, To make annends, I'll give it to your daughter. Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,

If I have kill'd the issue of your womb, To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

To quicken your increase, I will beget But that stilli use of grief makes wild grief tame,

Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter. My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys, A grandam's name is little less in love, Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;

Than is the doting title ot' a mother! And I, in such a desperate bay of death,

They are as children, but one step below, Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling rett,

Even of your mettle, of your very blood; Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

Of all one pain,-save for a night of groans K. Rich. Nadam, so thrive l'in my enterprise,

Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. And dangerous success of bloody wars,

Your children were vexation to your youth, As I intend more good to you and yours,

But mine shall be a comfort to your age. Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd! The loss you have, is but-a son being king, Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of And, by that loss, your daughter is made queen heaven,

I cannot make you what amends I would, To be discover'd, that can do me good ?

Therefore accept such kindness as I can. K. Rich. The advancement of your children, Dorset, your son, that with a fearful soul, gentle lady.

Leads discontented steps in foreign soil, Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their This air alliance quickly shall call home heads ?

To high promotions and great dignity : K. Rich. No, to the dignity and height of fortune, The king, that calls your beauteous daughter-wife, The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

Familiariy shall call thy Dorset-brother; Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrows with report of it;

Arain shall you be mother to a king, Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honor,

And all the ruins of distressful times Canst thou demises to any child of mine?

Repair'd with double riches of content. K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all,

What! we have many goodly days to see: Will I withal endow a child of thine ;

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, So in the Lethe of thy angry soul

Shall come again, transform'd io orient pearl; Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs,

Advantaging their loan, with interest Which thou supposest, I have done to thee.

Of' ten-times double gain of happiness. Q. Eliz. Be briet, lest that the process of thy Go, then, my mother, to thy daughter go; kindness

Make bold her bashiful years with your experience, Last longer telling than thy kindness' date. Prepare her cars to hear a wooer's tale : K. Rich. Then know, that from my soul I love Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame thy daughter.

Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her With the sweet sileni hours of marriage joys: soul.

And when this arm of mine hath chistised K. Rich. What do you think?

The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham, Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter from Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, thy soul.

And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed! So, from thy soul's love, didst thou love her brothers, To whom I will retail my conquest won, And, from my heart's love, I do thank thee for it. And she shall be sole vict'ress, Csesar's Cæsar. K. Rich. Bé not so hasty to confound my mean- Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's ing:

brother I mean, that with my soul I love thy daughter,

Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle ? And do intend to make her queen of England.

Or, he that slew her brothers and her uncles? Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall Under what title shall I woo for thee, be her king ?

That God, the law, my honor, and her love, K. Rich. Even he, that makes her queen: Who Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? else should be !

K. Rich. Inser fair England's peace by this alliance. Q. Eliz. What, thou?

Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lastK. Rich. Even so: What think you

ing war. of it, madam?

K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her?

entreats, K. Rich.

That I would learn of you, Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's King As one being best acquainted with her humor.

forbids. Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?

R. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart.

queen. . Unavoidable. Constant. • Bequeath.

Perhaps. 'In the Levitical Law, chap. xviii. 14.

Q. Eliz. To wail the title as her mother doth. Urge the necessity and state of times,
Ř. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly. And be not peevish3 found in great designs.
Q. Eliz. But how long shall that tiile, ever, last? Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil thus ?
K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end. K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good.
Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life Q: Eliz. Shall I forget myself to be myself?
last?

K. Rich. Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature, length

yourself. ens it.

Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children. Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, likes of it. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury K. Rich. Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject low.

them : Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loathes such sove- Where, in that nest of spiscry,' they shall breed reignty,

Selves of themselves, to your recomforture. K. Rich. Be eloquent, in my behalf, to her.

Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will? Q. Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being plain- K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. ly told.

Q: Eliz. I go.-Write to me very shortly, K. Rich. Then, in plain terms tell her my loving And you shall understand from me her mind. tale.

K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a

farewell. [Kissing her. Exit Q. ELIZ. style.

Relenting fool, and shallow, changing-woman! K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow, and too How now! what news ? quick.

Enter RatcliFF; CATESBY following. Q. Eliz. 0

no, my reasons are too deep and dead;

Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast Two deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves.

Rideth a puissant navy ; to the shore K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam, that is Throng many doubttul hollow-hearted friends, past.

Unarın'd, and unresolv'd to beat them back: Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings 'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral; break.

And there they hull, expecting hut the aid K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and

Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.

K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the duke my crown, Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonor'd, and the third

of Norfolk :usurp'd.

Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he?
K. Rich. I swear.

Cate. Here, my good lord.
Q. Eliz.
By nothing; for this is no oath.

K. Rich.

Catesby, fly to the duke. Thy George, profan'd, hath lost his holy honor;

Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. Thy garter, blemish'd. pawn'd his knightly virtue;

K. Rich. Ratclif, come hither: Post to Salisbury; Thy crown, usurp'd, disgraced his kingly glory:

When thou com'st thither,-Dull unmindful villain, If something thou wouldst swear to be believ'd,

[To CATESBY. Swearthen by something that thou hast not wrong'a. Why stay’st thou here, and go'st not io the duke? K. Rich. Now, by the world,

Cále. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness' Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.

pleasure, K. Rich. My father's death,

What from your grace I shall deliver to him. Q. Eliz.

Thy life hath that dishonor'd. K. Rich. O, true, good Catesby;--Bid him levy K. Rich. Then, by myself,

straight Q. Eliz. Thyself is self-misused.

The greatest strength and power he can make, K. Rich. Why then, by God,

And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

Cate. I go.
Q. Eliz.
God's wrong is most of all.

(Exit If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,

Rut. What, may it please you, shall I do at The unity, the king thy brother made,

Salisbury? Had not been broken, nor my brother slain ;

K. Rich. Why, what wouldst thou do there, beIf thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,

fore I go? The imperial metal, circling now thy head,

Rat. Your bighness told me, I should post before Had graced the tender temples of my child;

Enter STANLEY. And both the princes had been breathing here, K. Rich. My mind is changed.--Stanley, what Which now, two tender bed-tellows for dust,

news with you ! Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms. Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with What canst thou swear by now?

the hearing; K. Rich.

By the time to come. Nor none so bad, but well may be reported. Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad! o'erpast;

What need'st thou run so many miles about, For I myself have many tears to wash

When thou mayst tell thy tale the nearest way? Hereafter time, for time past, wrong'd by thee.

Once more, what news? The children live, whose parents thou hast slaugh- Stan.

Richmond is on the seas. ter'd,

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on l'ngovernd youth, to wail it in their age:

him! The parents live, whose childrenthou hast butcher'd, White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there? Old barren plants, to wail it in their age :

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. Swear not by time to come ; for that thou hast K. Rich. Well, as you guess ? Misasid, ere used, by times ill-used o'er-past. Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and K. Rich. As I intend to prosper and repent,

Morton, So thrive I in my dangerous attempt

He makes for England, here to claim the crown. Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!

K. Rich. Is the chair empty ? is the sword unHeaven, and fortune, bar me happy hours!

sway'd ? Day yield me not thy light; nor night, thy rest! Is the king dead ? the empire unpossess'd ? Be opposite all planets of good luck

What heir of York is there alive, but we? To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love, And who is England's king, but great York's heir? Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,

Then, tell me, what makes he upon the scas? I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter! Slan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess. In her consists my happiness, and thine;

K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, Without her, follows to myself, and thee,

You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Herself, the land, and many a christian soul, Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear. Death, desolation, ruin, and decay:

Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me It cannot be avoided, but by this; It will not be avoided, but by this.

K. Rich. Where is thy power then, to beat him Theretore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)

back? Be the attorney of my love to her.

Where be thy tenants, and thy followers ? Plead what I will be, not what I have been; Are they not now upon the western shore, Not my descrts, but what I will deserve:

Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships? a The ensigns of the Order of the Garter.

• The phenix's nest.

not.

Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the

Enter another Messenger. north.

4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord marquis K. Rich. Cold friends to me: what do they in

Dorset, the north, When they should serve their sovereign in the 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms.

But this good comfort bring I to your highness, west?

The Bretagne navy is dispers'd by tempests: Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat. king:

Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks, Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,

If they were his assistants, yea, or no; l'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace, Where, and what time, your majesty shall please: Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,

Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be one to join with Hvis'd sail, and made his course again for BreRichmond :

tagne. I will not trust you, sir.

K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up Stan. Most mighty sovereign,

in arms; You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; If not to tight with foreign enemies, I never was, nor never will be false.

Yet to beat down these rebels here at home. K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind

Enter CATESBY. Yourson, George Stanley; look your heart be firm, Cate. My liege, the duke of Buckingham is taken, Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

That is the best news; That the earl of Richmond Stan. So deal with hiin, as I prove true to you. Is with a mighty power landed at Miltord,

[Exit STANLEY. Is colder news, but yet they must be told.

K. Rich. Away towards Salisbury; while we reaEnter a Messenger.

son here, Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, A royal battle might be won and lost :As I by friends am well advertised,

Some one take order, Buckingham be brought Sir Edward Courteney, and the haughty prelate, To Salisbury;-the rest march on with me. Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

[Exeunt. With many more contederates, are in arms.

SCENE V.-A Room in Lord Stanley's House. Enter another Messenger.

Enter STANLEY, and Sir CHRISTOPHER URSWICK.7

Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from 2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in

me:
arms;

That, in the sty of this most bloody boar,
And every hour more competitors5
Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. I revolt, off goes young George's head;

My son George Stanley is frank'ds up in hold;
Enter another Messenger

The fear of that withholds my present aid.

But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now? 3 Mess. My lord, the army of great Bucking- Chris. At Pembroke,or at Ha'rford-west, in Wales. ham

Stan. What men of name resort to him? K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; death?

[He strikes him. Sir Gilbert Talbot, sir William Stanley ; There, take thou that, till thou bring better news. Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, sir James Blunt,

3 Mess. The news I have to tell your majesty, And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; Is,-that, by sudden floods and fall of waters, And many other of great fame and worth: Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd. And towards London do they bend their course, And he himself wander'd away alone,

It by the way they be not fought withal. No man knows whither.

Sian. Well, hie' thee to thy lord ; commend me K. Rich. 0, I cry you mercy:

to him; There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. Tell him, the queen hath heartily consented Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd

He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter. Reward to him that brings the traitor in ?

These letters will resolve him of my mind. Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my Farewell. [Gives Papers to Sin CHRISTOPHER. liege.

(Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE 1.-Salisbury. An open Place. Hath turned my feigncd prayer on my head, Enter the Sheriff, and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

| And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. led to Execution.

To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms: Buck. Will not king Richard let me speak with Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck, him !

When he, quoth she, shall split thy heart uith sorrow, Sher. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

Remember Margaret was a prophetess.Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame, Grey,

Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due or blame. Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward,

(Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, &C Vaughan, and all that have miscarried

SCENE II.--Plain near Tamworth.
By underhand corrupted foul injustice;
If that your moody discontented souls

Enter, with Drum and Colors, RICHMOND, OXFORD, Do through the clouds behold this present hour,

SIR JAMES BLUNT, SIR WALTER HERBERT, and Even for revenge mock my destruction !

others, with Forces, marching. This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?

Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving Sher. It is, my lord.

friends, Buck. Why, ihen All-Souls' day is my body's Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, doomsday.

Thus far into the bowels of the land This is the day, which, in King Edward's time, Have we march'd on without impediment; I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found And here receive we from our father Stanley False to his children, or his wife's allies :

Lines of fair comfort and encouragement. This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall

The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar, By the false faith of him whom most I trusted; That spoil'd your summer fields, and fruitful vines, This, this All-Souls' day to my tearful soul, Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.

trough That high All-seer which I dallied with,

* Chaplain to the countess of Richmond. * Associates, 6 Injurious practices.

• A frank is a sty in which bogs are fattened

ness.

In your embowell’d bosoms, this foul swine What, is my beaver easier than it was ?-
Lies now even in the centre of this isle,

And all my armor laid into my tent ?
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn :

Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are in readi From Tamworth thither, is but one day's march. In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends, K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; To reap the harvest of perpetual peace

Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

Nor. I go, my lord. Oxy Every man's conscience is a thousand K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle swords,

Norfolk. To fight against that bloody homicide.

Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

[E.cit. Herb. I doubt not, but his friends will turn to us. K. Rich. Ratcliff,Blunt. He hath no friends, but who are friends Rat. My lord ? for fear;

K. Rich.

Send out a pursuivant at arms
Which, in his dearest need, will fly from him. To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring hir power
Richm. All for our vantage. Then, in God's Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall
name, march:

Into the blind cave of eternal night.
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings, Fill me a bowl of wine.-Give ine a watch:
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

[To CATESBY. [Exeunt. Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.

Look that my staves' be sound, and not too heavy
SCENE III.-Bosworth Field.

Ratclitl,
Enter KING RICHARD, and Forces; the DUKE OF Rat. My lord ?
NORFOLK, EARL OF SURREY, and others.

K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord NorthK. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bos

umberland ? worth field.

Rat. Thomas the earl of Surrey, and himself, My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

Much about cock-shut- time, from troop to troop Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.

Went through the army,cheering up the soldiers. K. Rich. My lord of Nortolk,

K. Rich. I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine: Nor. Here, most gracious liege.

I have not that alacrity of spirit, K. Rich. Nortolk, we must have knocks; Ha! Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.must we not?

So, set it down.-Is ir:k and paper ready? Nor. We must both give and take, my loving lord.

Rat. It is, my lord. R. Rich. Up with my tent: Here will I lie to

K. Rich. Bid ny guard watch; leave me. night;

About the mid of night, come to my tent, ( Soldiers begin to set up the King's tent. And help to arm me.-Leave me, I say. But where, to-morrow ?-Well, all's one for that.

(KING RICHARD retires into his Tént. Exeunt Who hath descried the number of the traitors?

RATCLIFF and CATESBY. Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. Richmond's Tent opens, and discovers him, and K. Rich. Why, our battalia trebles that account:

his Officers, &c. Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse faction want.

Enter STANLEY. Up with the tent.-Come, noble gentlemen,

Stan. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! Let us survey the vantage of the ground;

Richm. All comfort that the dark night can afford, Call for some men of sound directions :

Be to thy person, noble father-in-law ! Let's want no discipline, make no delay;

Tell me, how fares our loving mother? For, lords, to-inorrow is a busy day. (Exeunt.

Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother,

Who prays continually for Richmond's good : Enter, on the other Side of the Field, RICHMOND,

So much for that.-The silent hours steal on, SIR WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, and other Lords. And tlaky darkness breaks within the east. Some of the Soldiers pitch RICHMOND's Tent. In brief, for so the season bids us be, Richm. The weary sun hath made a golden set,

Prepare thy battle early in the morning; And, by the bright track of his fiery car,

And put thy fortune to the arbitrement Gives token of a goodly day to morrow.

Ot bloody strokes, and mortal-staring war. Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.-1, as I may, (that which I would, I cannot.) Give me some ink and paper in my tent;

With best advantage will deceive the time,

And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms: I'll draw the form and model of our battle, Limit each leader to his several charge,

But on thy side I may not be too forward, And part in just proportion our small power.

Lest, being seen, thy brother tender George

Be executed in his father's sight.
My lord of Oxford,-you, sir William Brandon,-
And you, sir Walter Herbert, stay with me:

Farewell : The leisure and the fearful time

Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love, The earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment;

And ample interchange of sweet discourse, Good captain Blunt, bear my good night to him,

Which so long-sunder'd friends should dwell upon And by the second hour in ihe morning Desire the earl to see me in my tent:

God give us leisure for these rites of love!

Once more, adieu :-Be valiant, and speed well. Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me;

Richm. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment: Where is lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?

I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap; Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colors much, (Which, well I am assur'd, I have not done,)

Lest leaden slumber peise3 me down to-morrow,

When I should mount with wings of victory: His regiment Jies half a mile at least South from the mighty power of the king.

Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen. Richm. If without peril it be possible,

(Exeunt Lords, &c. with STANLEY Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak Look on my forces with a gracious eye;

0 Thou! whose captain I account myself, with him, And give him from me this most needful note.

Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,

That they may crush' down with a heavy tall Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it;

The usurping helmets of our adversaries !
And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!
Richm. Good night, good captain Blunt. Come, That we may praise thee in the victory!

Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
gentlemen,

To thee I do commend my watchful soul, Let us consult upon to-morrow's business ; Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes; In to my tent, the air is raw and cold.

Sleeping, and waking, 0, defend me still! [Sleeps. [They withdraw into the Tent.

The Ghost of PRINCE EDWARD, son to HENRY Enter, to his Tent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK, RAT- THE SIXTH, rises between the two Tents. CLIFF, and CATESBY.

Ghost. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow, K. Rich. What is't o'clock?

[TO KING RICHARD. Cate.

It's supper time, my lord : Think, how thou stab’dst me in my priine of youth It's nine o'clock.

At Tewksbury; Despair, therefore, and die ! K. Rich. I will not sup to-night.

• A watch-light.

"Wood of the lances. Give me some ink and paper.

» Twilight.

• Weigh.