And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest. Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of [Exeunt Buckingham, &c. blame. 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, Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we march'd on without impediment; 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, 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 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 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 tonight; [Soldiers begin to set up the king's tent. But where, to-morrow?-Well, all's one for that.— Who hath descry'd 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, 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 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; Let us consult upon to-morrow's business; [They withdraw into the Tent. Enter, to his Tent, King Richard, Norfolk, Ratcliff, Give me some ink and paper. What, is my beaver easier than it was?— And all my armour laid into my tent? Cates. It is, my liege; and all things are in rea diness. 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 To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power Fill me a bowl of wine.-Give me a watch:- Rat. My lord? K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Nor thumberland? 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. I am satisfy'd. Give me a bowl of wine: 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. Exeunt |