Enter another Messenger. 3 Mess. My lord, the army of great Buckingham— K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of death? [He strikes him. There, take thou that, till thou bring better news. 3 Mess. The news I have to tell your majesty, Is,-that, by sudden floods and fall of waters, Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd ; And he himself wander'd away alone, No man knows whither. K. Rich. O, I cry you mercy : There is my purse, to cure that blow of thine. Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd Reward to him that brings the traitor in? 3 Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my liege. Enter another Messenger. 4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord marquis Dorset, "Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Bretagne. K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up in arms; If not to fight with foreign enemies, Yet to beat down these rebels here at home. Enter Catesby. Cate. My liege, the duke of Buckingham is taken, That is the best news; That the earl of Richmond Is, with a mighty power*, landed at Milford, * Force. Is colder news, but yet they must be told. A royal battle might be won and lost :- [Exeunt. SCENE V. A room in Lord Stanley's house. Enter Stanley and Sir Christopher Urswick*. Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me: That, in the sty of this most bloody boar, Stan. What men of name resort to him? Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; Sir Gilbert Talbot, sir William Stanley; Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, sir James Blunt, And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew; And many other of great fame and worth; And towards London do they bend their course, If by the way they be not fought withal. Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord; commend me to him; Tell him, the queen hath heartily consented my [Gives papers to Sir Christopher. * Chaplain to the countess of Richmond. ACT V. SCENE I. Salisbury. An open place. Enter the Sheriff, and Guard, with Buckingham, led to execution. Buck. Will not king Richard let me speak with him? Sher. No, my good lord; therefore be patient. Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward, Do through the clouds behold this present hour, Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday. ; This is the day, which, in king Edward's time, * Injurious practices. 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 : 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 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, 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 tract 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; |