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 my wrongs.
That high All-Seer, which I dallied with,
Hath turn'd my feign'd 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 in their masters' bosoms.
Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck1 :—
"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 and Officers.

SCENE II-A 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

[Showing a Paper."

Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.

3

The reckless, 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

Is 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,5 To fight against this guilty homicide.

Herb. I doubt not, but his friends will turn to us. 1 now-is fallen upon my head: in quartos. 2 Not in f. e. 3 wretched in f. e. 4 lies in quartos. 5 swords: in quartos.

Blunt. He hath no friends, but what are friends for Which in his dearest need will fly1 from him. [fear, 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.

SCENE III-Bosworth Field.

[Exeunt.

Enter King RICHARD, and Forces; the Duke of NORFOLK, 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 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. 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 Officers. 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.
1 greatest need will shrink: in quartos.

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 assur'd, 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.

gentlemen,

Let us consult upon to-morrow's business.
In to my tent, the dew3 is raw and cold.

Come,

[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 supper time, my lord; it's nine o'clock.
K. Rich. 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 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 Nor

folk.

Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

K. Rich. Ratcliff!

Rat. My lord?

K. Rich.

Send out a pursuivant at arms To Stanley's regiment: bid him bring his power Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall

[Exit.

1 2 These lines are not in the quartos. 3 air: in quartos.

Into the blind cave of eternal night.

Fill me a bowl of wine.-Give me a watch:
Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.—
Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.
Ratcliff!-

Rat. My lord?

K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northumberland?

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

K. Rich. So: 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.

Set it down.-Is ink and paper ready?

Rat. It is, my lord.

[Wine brought.1

K. Rich. Bid my guard watch. Leave me. Ratcliff, about the mid of night, come to my tent And help to arm me.-Leave me, I say.

[King RICHARD retires into his Tent. Exeunt RATCLIFF and CATESBY.

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,
Be to thy person, noble father-in-law !

Tell me, I pray, how fares our loving mother?
Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother,
Who prays continually for Richmond's good:
So much for that.-The silent hours steal on,
And flaky darkness breaks within the east.
In brief, for so the season bids us be,
Prepare thy battle early in the morning;
And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
Of bloody strokes, and mortal-staring war.
I, as I may, (that which I would I cannot)
With best advantage will deceive the time,
And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms:
But on thy side I may not be too forward,
Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George,

1 Not in f. e.

Be executed in his father's sight.

Farewell. The leisure and the fearful time
Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,

And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon.
God give us leisure for these rites of love!
Once more, adieu.-Be valiant, and speed well!
Richm. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment.
I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap;
Lest leaden slumber peise1 me down to-morrow,
When I should mount with wings of victory,
Once more, good night, kind lords, and gentlemen.

[Exeunt Lords, &c., with STANLEY. O! Thou, whose captain I account myself, [Kneeling. Look on my forces with a gracious eye;

Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,
That they may crush down with a heavy fall
Th' usurping helmets of our adversaries!
Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise thee in thy victory!
To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
Sleeping, and waking, O, defend me still!

[Rising.

[Lies down and sleeps. The Ghost of Prince EDWARD, Son to HENRY the Sixth, rises between the two Tents.

Ghost. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow

[To King RICHARD.
Think how thou stabb'dst me, in my prime of youth,
At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die.—
Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls

Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf:
King Henry's issue. Richmond, comforts thee.

The Ghost of King HENRY the Sixth rises.
Ghost. When I was mortal, my anointed body
To King RICHARD.

By thee was punched full of deadly* holes.
Think on the Tower, and me: despair, and die;
Harry the sixth bids thee despair and die.-
Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror !

[TO RICHMOND. Harry, that prophesy'd thou should'st be king, 1 Weigh. 2 3 Not in f. e. 4 Not in folio.