Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/562

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The Life and Death of Richard the Third.

Is with a mighty power Landed at Milford,
Is colder Newes, but yet they must be told.

Rich.
Away towards Salsbury, while we reason here,
A Royall batteil might be wonne and lost:
Some one take order Buckingham be brought
To Salsbury, the rest march on with me.
Florish. Exeunt 


Scena Quarta.


Enter Derby, and Sir Christopher.

Der.
Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me,
That in the stye of the most deadly Bore,
My Sonne George Stanley is frankt vp in hold:
If I reuolt, off goes yong Georges head,
The feare of that, holds off my present ayde.
So get thee gone: commend me to thy Lord.
Withall say, that the Queene hath heartily consented
He should espouse Elizabeth hir daughter.
But tell me, where is Princely Richmond now?

Chri.
At Penbroke, or at Hertford West in Wales.

Der.
What men of Name resort to him.

Chri.
Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned Souldier,
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley,
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir Iames Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant Crew,
And many other of great name and worth:
And towards London do they bend their power,
If by the way they be not fought withall.

Der.
Well hye thee to thy Lord: I kisse his hand,
My Letter will resolue him of my minde.
ExeuntFarewell.


Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.


Enter Buckingham with Halberds, led
to Execution.

Buc.
Will not King Richard let me speake with him?

Sher.
No my good Lord, therefore be patient.

Buc.
Hastings, and Edwards children, Gray & Riuers,
Holy King Henry, and thy faire Sonne Edward,
Vaughan, and all that haue miscarried
By vnder-hand corrupted foule iniustice,
If that your moody disconcented soules,
Do through the clowds behold this present houre,
Euen for reuenge mocke my destruction.
This is All-soules day (Fellow) is it not?

Sher.
It is.

Buc.
Why then Al-soules day, is my bodies doomsday
This is the day, which in King Edwards time
I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found
False to his Children, and his Wiues Allies.
This is the day, wherein I wisht to fall
By the false Faith of him whom most I trusted.
This, this All-soules day to my fearfull Soule,
Is the determin'd respit of my wrongs:
That high All-seer, which I dallied with,
Hath turn'd my fained Prayer on my head,
And giuen in earnest, what I begg'd in iest.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turne their owne points in their Masters bosomes.
Thus Margarets curse falles heauy on my necke:
When he (quoth she) shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margaret was a Prophetesse:
Come leade me Officers to the blocke of shame,
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
Exeunt Buckingham with Officers. 


Scena Secunda.


Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and
others with drum and colours.

Richm
Fellowes in Armes, and my most louing Frends
Bruis'd vnderneath the yoake of Tyranny,
Thus farre into the bowels of the Land,
Haue we marcht on without impediment;
And heere receiue we from our Father Stanley
Lines of faire comfort and encouragement:
The wretched, bloody and vsurping Boare,
(That spoyl'd your Summer Fields, and fruitfull Vines)
Swilles your warm blood like wash, & makes his trough
In your embowel'd bosomes: This foule Swine
Is now euen in the Centry of this Isle,
Ne're to the Towne of Leicester, as we learne:
From Tamworth thither, is but one dayes march.
In Gods name cheerely on, couragious Friends,
To reape the Haruest of perpetuall peace,
By this one bloody tryall off sharpe Warre.

Oxf.
Euery mans Conscience is a thousand men,
To fight against this guilty Homicide.

Her.
I doubt not but his Friends will turne to vs.

Blunt.
He hath no friends, but what are friends for fear,
Which in his deerest neede will flye from him.

Richm.
All for our vantage, then in Gods name march,
True Hope is swift, and flyes with Swallowes wings,
Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings.
Exeunt Omnes. 

Enter King Richard in Armes with Norfolke, Ratcliffe,
and the Earle of Surrey.

Rich.
Here pitch our Tent, euen here in Bosworth field,
My Lord of Surrey, why looke you so sad?

Sur.
My heart is ten times lighter then my lookes.

Rich.
My Lord of Norfolke.

Nor.
Heere most gracious Liege.

Rich.
Norfolke, we must haue knockes:
Ha, must we not?

Nor.
We must both giue and take my louing Lord.

Rich.
Vp with my Tent, heere wil I lye to night,
But where to morrow? Well, all's one for that.
Who hath descried the number of the Traitors?

Nor.
Six or seuen thousand is their vtmost power.

Rich.
Why our Battalia trebbles that account:
Besides, the Kings name is a Tower of strength,
Which they vpon the aduerse Faction want.
Vp with the Tent: Come Noble Gentlemen,
Let vs suruey the vantage of the ground.
Call for some Men of sound direction:

Let's