ACT V. SCENE I. Enter the Sheriff, and Buckingham with Halberds led to Execution. Buck W ILL not King Richard let me fpeak with him? Sher. No, good my Lord, therefore be patient. Buck. Haftings, and Edward's Children, Gray and Rivers, Holy King Henry, and thy fair Son Edward, Vaughan, and all that have mifcarried By under-hand corrupted foul Injustice, Do through the Clouds behold this present hour, This is All-Souls Day, Fellow, is it not? Sher. It is. Buck. Why then All-Souls Day is my Body's Doomsday. Come lead me, Officers, to the Block of Shame, [Exeunt Buckingham with Officers. Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, with Drum and Colours. Richm. Fellows in Arms, and my most loving Friends, Brus'd underneath the Yoak of Tyranny. Thus far into the Bowels of the Land, Have we marcht on without Impediment; And here receive we from our Father Stanley Lines of fair Comfort and Encouragement: The wretched, bloody and ufurping Boar, That fpoil'd our Summer-Fields, and fruitful Vines, Swills your warm Blood like Wafh, and makes his Trough In your embowell'd Bofoms; This foul Swine Is now even in the Center of this Ifle, Near to the Town of Leicester, as we learn: Oxf. Every Man's Confcience is a thoufand Men, To fight against this guilty Homicide. Herb. I doubt not but his Friends will turn to us. Blunt. He hath no Friends, but what are Friends for fear, Which in his deareft need will fly from him. Richm. All for our vantage, then in God's Name march, True hope is fwift, and flies with Swallow's Wings, Kings it makes Gods, and meaner Creatures Kings. [Exeunt. Enter King Richrrd in Arms, with Norfolk, Ratcliff, and the Earl of Surrey, K. Rich. Here pitch our Tent, even here in Bosworth-field. My Lord of Surrey, why look you fo fad? Sur. My Heart is ten times lighter than my Looks. K. Rich. My Lord of Norfolk. Nor. Here, moft gracious Liege. K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks: Ha, muft we not? Nor. We must both give and take, my loving Lord. K. Rich. K. Rich. Up with my Tent, here will I lye to Night, Nor. Six or feven thoufand is their utmost Power. [Exeunt. Enter Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Oxford, and Dorfet. Richm. The weary Sun hath made a Golden fet, you Yet one thing more, good Captain, do for me: Sweet Blunt, make fome good means to fpeak with him, Blunt. Upon my felf, my Lord, I'll undertake it. Richm. Good Night, good Captain Blunt. Come, Gentlemen, Let Let us confult upon to Morrow's Bufinefs; [They withdraw into the Tent. Enter King Richard, Ratcliff, Norfolk and Catesby. K. Rich. What is't a Clock? Catesby. It's Supper time, my Lord, it's nine a Clock. K. Rich. I will not Sup to Night, Give me fome Ink and Paper: What, is my Beaver eafier than it was? And all my Armour laid into my Tent? Catef. It is, my Liege; and all things are in readiness. K. Rich. Good Norfolk hye thee to thy Charge, Ufe careful Watch, chufe trufty Centinels. 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. Send out a Purfuivant at Aims To Stanley's Regiment; bid him bring his Power Into the blind Cave of eternal Night. Fill me a Bowl of Wine; give me a Watch: [Exit. Look that my Staves be found, and not too heavy. Ratcliff. Rat. My Lord. K. Rich. Saw'ft the melancholy Lord Northumberland ? Much about Cock-fhut time, from Troop to Troop K. Rich. So, I am fatisfy'd; give me a Bowl of Wine, I have not that alacrity of Spirit, Nor cheer of Mind that I was wont to have. Set it down. Is Ink and Paper ready? Rat. It is, my Lord. K. Rich. Bid my Guard watch. Leave me. Derby. Fortune and Victory fit on thy Helm. Be Be to thy Perfon, noble Father-in-Law, Derby. I, by Attorney, blefs thee from thy Mother, So much for that. The filent Hours fteal on, Farewel; the leifure, and the fearful time O thou, whofe Captain I account my felf, [Sleeps. [To K. Rich. Think |