Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men 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 II-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, Have we march'd on without impediment; In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine 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, reap the harvest of perpetual peace By this one bloody trial of sharp war. To 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 Surrey, and others. K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad? Nor. Here, most gracious liege. K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks; Ha! must we not? Nor. We must both give and take, my loving lord. K. Rich. Up with my tent: Here will I lie tonight; [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. Why, our battalia trebles that account: Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse faction want. Up with the tent.-Come, noble gentlemen, 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. Enter, on the other side of the field, Richmond, Limit' each leader to his several charge, And part in just proportion our small power. Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me; Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him, And give him from me this most needful note. Let us consult upon to-morrow's business; [They withdraw into the tent. Enter, to his tent, King Richard, Norfolk, Ratcliff, and Catesby. K. Rich. What is't o'clock? Cate. It's nine o'clock. K. Rich. It's supper time, my lord; I will not sup to-night. Give me some ink and paper. What, is my beaver easier than it was?— And all my armour laid into my tent? Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are in readi ness. K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; (1) Appoint. (2) Remains with. Nor. I go, my lord. Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. Nor. I warrant you, my lord. K. Rich. Ratcliff, Rat. My lord? K. Rich. [Exit. Send out a pursuivant at arms To Stanley's regiment; bid him 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 :1- Rat. My lord? K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northumberland? Rat. Thomas the earl of Surrey, and himself, Much about cock-shut3 time, from troop to troop, Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. K. Rich. I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine: I have not that alacrity of spirit, Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.- Rat. It is, my lord. K. Rich. Bid my guard watch; leave 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. Ratcliff and Catesby. Exeunt Richmond's tent opens, and discovers him and his officers, &c. Enter Stanley. Stan. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! Richm. All comfort that the dark night can afford, (1) A watch-light. (2) Wood of the lances. (3) Twilight. Be to thy person, noble father-in-law! Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, Farewell: The leisure and the fearful time (1) Deputation. |