Enter STANLEY.

K. Rich. My mind is changed.-Stanley, what news with you?

Stan. None, good my liege, to please you with the hearing; Nor none so bad, but well may be reported.

K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad!
What need'st thou run so many miles about,

When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way?
Once more, what news?

Stan.

Richmond is on the seas.
K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him!
White-livered runagate, what doth he there?

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess.
K. Rich. Well, as you guess?

Stan. Stirred up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, He makes for England, here to claim the crown.

K. Rich. Is the chair empty? Is the sword unswayed? Is the king dead, the empire unpossessed?

What heir of York is there alive, but we?

And who is England's king, but great York's heir?
Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas?

Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege,
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes.
Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.

Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not.
K. Rich. Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
Where be thy tenants, and thy followers?

Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe cónducting the rebels from their ships?

Stan. No, my good lord; my friends are in the north. K. Rich. Cold friends to me; what do they in the north, When they should serve their sovereign in the west? Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king. Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,

I'll muster up my friends; and meet your grace,
Where, and what time, your majesty shall please.
K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with
Richmond.

I will not trust you, sir.

Stan.

Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful; I never was, nor never will be false.

But, hear you, leave

K. Rich. Well, go, muster men. But, hear

behind

Your son, George Stanley; look your heart be firm,
Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you.
[Exit STANLEY.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advértised,

Sir Edward Courtenay, and the haughty prelate,
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

With many more confederates, are in arms.

Enter another Messenger.

2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors

Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

Enter another Messenger.

3 Mess. My lord, the army of great BuckinghamK. 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 dispersed and scattered; And he himself wandered away alone,

No man knows whither.

K. Rich.

0, I cry you mercy;

There is my purse, to cure that blow of thine.

Hath any well-advised friend proclaimed

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.

But this good comfort bring I to your highness,-
The Bretagne navy is dispersed by tempest.
Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks,
If they were his assistants, yea, or no;
Who answered him, they came from Buckingham
Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,

Hoised 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,

Is colder news, but yet they must be told.

K. Rich. Away, towards Salisbury; while we reason here, A royal battle might be won and lost.Some one take order, Buckingham be brought To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

[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, My son George Stanley is franked up in hold; If I revolt, off goes young George's head; The fear of that withholds my present aid. But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now? Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west, in Wales. 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

He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
These letters will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell.

[Gives papers to SIR CHRISTOPher.

[Exeunt.

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.

Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey,
Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried

By under hand, corrupted, foul injustice;
If that your moody, discontented souls

Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction!

This is All Souls' day, fellows, is it not?
Sher. It is, my lord.

Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday. This is the day, which, in king Edward's time,

I wished might fall on me, when I was found
False to his children, or his wife's allies.
This is the day, wherein I wished to fall
By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;
This, this, All-Souls' day to my fearful soul,
Is the determined respite of my wrongs.
That high All-seer which I dallied with,
Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head,
And given in earnest what I begged in jest.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms;
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, 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 colors, RICHMOND, OXFORD, SIR JAMES BLUNT, SIR WALTER HERBERT, and others, with Forces, marching.

Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Bruised underneath the yoke of tyranny,

Thus far into the bowels of the land

Have we marched on without impediment,

And here receive we from our father Stanley,
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.

The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,

That spoiled your summer fields, and fruitful vines, Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough In your embowelled bosoms, this foul swine

Lies 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 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

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 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,

VOL. III.-16