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SCENE I.

ACT V.

Salisbury. An open Place.

Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led

to execution.

W

Buckingham.

|ILL not king Richard let me speak with him?

Sher. No, my good lord: therefore be patient.

Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and Rivers,

Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, 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, fellow, 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 wish'd might fall on me, when I was found
False to his children, and 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 determined respite of my 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.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

To turn their own points 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, lead me, officers, 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,

Bruised 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 trough

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,
To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

Oxf. Every man's conscience is a thousand men, To fight against this guilty homicide.

Herb. I doubt not but his friends will turn to

us.

Blunt. He hath no friends but what 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 NOR-
FOLK, EARL OF SURREY, and others.

K. Rich. Here pitch our tent, even here in
Bosworth field.

My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?

Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my

looks.

K. Rich. My lord of Norfolk !

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 iny 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 lack no discipline, make no delay;
For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day.

[Exeunt.

Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND, Sir WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, and other Lords. 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 shall bear my standard.
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 the 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

much,

(Which well I am assured 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;

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

Let us consult upon to-morrow's business ;
In to my tent, the dew is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the tent.

Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD, NORfolk, RatCLIFF, and CATESBY.

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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
readiness.

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

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To Stanley's regiment: bid him bring his power

Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall

Into the blind cave of eternal night.—

[To CATESBY.] Fill me a bowl of wine.-Give me a watch!—

Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.

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