Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms. 24
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: 28
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
Scene Two
[A Plain near Tamworth]
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: 4
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, 8
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough
In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine
Is now even in the centry of this isle,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn: 12
From Tamworth thither is but one day’s march.
In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends,
24 bosoms; cf. n.
25 Cf. n.
3 bowels: center
6 Lines: letters
8 spoil'd: despoiled; cf. n.
10 embowell'd: disemboweled
11 centry: exact center
