* That, in the sty of this most bloody boar, Stan. What men of name resort to him? Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, sir James Blunt, Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord; commend me Tell him, the queen hath heartily consented [Gives Papers to Sir CHRISTOPHEr. ACT V. Exeunt. 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? history tells us, frequently went backwards and forwards, unsuspected, on messages betwixt the Countess of Richmond, and her husband, and the young Earl of Richmond, whilst he was preparing to make his descent on England. He was afterwards Almoner to King Henry VII. and retired to Hackney, where he died in 1521. Sher. No, my good lord; therefore be patient. Grey, 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, This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. [Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, &c. Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.] Hanmer has rightly explained it, the time to which the punishment of his wrongs was respited. Wrongs in this line means wrongs done, or injurious practices. 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, Thus far into the bowels of the land Have we march'd on without impediment; That spoil'd your summer fields, and fruitful vines, Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine 4 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, the harvest of perpetual peace To reap 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: + Lies now-] i. e. sojourns. 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. 5 sound direction;] True judgment; tried military skill. 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, 8 Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with him, And give him from me this most needful note. 6 Limit-] i. e. appoint. 7 8 measure. keeps his regiment;] i. e. remains with it. make some good means-] i. e. adopt some convenient |