Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,
Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we march'd on without impediment;
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,
Lies now even in the center 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. [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 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
Desire the earl to see me in my tent:

Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me;
Where is lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?
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
And so, heaven give you quiet rest to-night!
Richm. Good night, good captain Blunt. Come,
gentlemen,

Let us consult upon to-morrow's business;
In to my tent, the air is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the Tent.

Enter, to his Tent, King RICHARd, Norfolk, RATCLIFF, and CATESBY.

K. Rich. What is't o'clock?

paper..

What, is my beaver easier than it was?

And all my armour laid into my tent?

Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are in readi

ness.

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

Norfolk.

Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

K. Rich. Ratcliff,

Rat. My lord?

K. Rich.

[Exit.

Send out a pursuivant at arms

To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall

Into the blind cave of eternal night.

Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch 6:

• A watch-light.

[TO CATESBY.

Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.

Look that my staves' be sound, and not too heavy. Ratcliff,

Rat. My lord?

K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northumberland?

8

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 satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit,

Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.-
So, set it down. Is ink and paper ready?
Rat. It is, my

K. Rich.

lord.

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 RATCLIFF and CATESBY.

RICHMOND'S Tent opens, and discovers him, and his Officers, &c.

Enter STANLEY.

Stan. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! Richm. All comfort that the dark night can afford, Be to thy person, noble father-in-law !

Tell me, how fares our loving mother?

Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, Who prays continually for Richmond's good: So much for that. — The silent hours steal on, And flaky darkness breaks within the east. In brief, for so the season bids us be, Prepare thy battle early in the morning; And put thy fortune to the arbitrement Of bloody strokes, and mortal-staring war.

" Wood of the lances.

• Twilight.

I, as I may, (that which I would, I cannot,)
With best advantage will deceive the time,
And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms:
But on thy side I may not be too forward,
Lest, being seen, thy brother tender George
Be executed in his father's sight:

Farewell: The leisure and the fearful time
Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,

And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon;
Heaven give us leisure for these friendly rites
Once more, adieu: :- Be valiant, and speed well!
Richm. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment:
I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap;
Lest leaden slumber peise' me down to-morrow,
When I should mount with wings of victory:
Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
[Exeunt Lords, &c. with STANLEY.
O Thou! whose captain I account myself,
Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,
That they may crush down with a heavy fall
The usurping helmets of our adversaries!
Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise thee in thy victory!
To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes;
Sleeping, and waking, O, defend me still! [Sleeps.

The Ghost of Prince EDWARD, son to Henry the Sixth, rises between the two Tents.

Ghost. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! [To King RICHARD. Think, how thou stab'dst me in my prime of youth At Tewksbury; Despair therefore, and die!Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls

9 Weigh.