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Enter another Messenger.

Mef. In Kent, my Liege, the Guilfords are in arms, And every hour more competitors

2

Flock to the Rebels, and their Power grows ftrong.

Enter another Messenger.

Mef. My Lord, the army of the Duke of Buckingham

K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but fongs of death? [He firikes him. There, take thou that, 'till thou bring better news. Mef. The news I have to tell your Majefty, Is, that, by fudden floods and fall of waters, Buckingham's army is difpers'd and scatter'd; And he himself wander'd away alone,

No man knows whither.

K. Rich. Oh! I cry thee mercy.

There is my purfe, to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advifed friend proclaim'd
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

Mef. Such Proclamation hath been made, my Liege.

Enter another Meffenger.

Mef. Sir Thomas Lovel, and Lord Marquis Dorfet, 'Tis faid, my Liege, in Yorkshire are in arms; But this good comfort bring I to your Highness, The Bretagne Navy is difperfed, by tempest. Richmond in Dorfetfhire fent out a boat Unto the fhore, to ask thofe on the banks, If they were his affiftants, yea, or no; Who answered him, they came from Buckingham Upon his Party; he, mistrusting them, Ilois'd fail, and made his courfe for Bretagny.

2 More competitors.] That is, more opponents.

K. Rich

K. Rich, March on, march on, fince we are up in

arms,

If not to fight with foreign enemies,

Yet to beat down thefe Rebels here at home.

Enter Catesby.

Catef. My Liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken, That is the best news. That the Earl of Richmond Is with a mighty Pow'r landed at Milford,

Is colder news, but yet it must be told.

K. Rich. Away tow'rds Salisbury; while we reafon here,

A royal battle might be won and loft.
Some one take order, Buckingham be brought
To Salisbury; the reft march on with me.

SCENE

VII.

Changes to the Lord Stanley's House.

[Exeunt.

Enter Lord Stanley, and Sir Christopher Urfwick.

Stanl. 3

IR Chriftopher, tell Richmond this from

SIR

me;

That in the fty of this most bloody Boar,
My fon George Stanley is frankt up in hold;
If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
The fear of that holds off my present aid.

3 Sir Chriftopher, tell Richmond this from me;] The Perfon, who is call'd Sir Chrifto pher here, and who has been til'd fo in the Dramatis Perfone of all the Impreffions, I find by the Chronicles to have been Chriftopher Urfwick, a Bachelor in Divinity; and Chaplain to the Countess of Richmond, who had

intermarried with the Lord Stanley. This Prieft, the Hiftory tells us, frequently went backwards and forwards, unfufpected, on Meffages betwixt the Countess of Richmond, and her Hufband, and the young Earl of Richmond, whilst he was preparing to make his Defcent on England.

Z 3

THEOBALD

So,

So, get thee gone; commend me to thy Lord.
Say too, the Queen hath heartily confented
He should efpoufe Elizabeth her daughter.
But tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
Chri. At Pembroke, or at Harford-weft in Wales.
Stanl. What men of name refort to him?
Chri. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned foldier,
Sir Gilbert Talbot, and Sir William Stanley,
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew,
And many others of great name and worth;
And towards London do they bend their Power,
If by the way they be not fought withal.

Stanl. Well, hie thee to thy Lord, I kiss his hand,
My Letter will refolve him of my mind.
Farewel.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

SALISBURY..

Enter the Sheriff, and Buckingham, with balberds, led to Execution.

BUCKINGHAM.

ILL not King Richard let me fpeak with him?

W Sher. No, good my Lord, therefore be pa

tient.

Buck. Haftings, and Edward's children, Gray and
Rivers,

Holy King Henry, and thy fair fon Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have mifcarried

By under-hand, corrupted, foul injustice;
If that your moody, difcontented, fouls

Do through the clouds behold this prefent hour,

revenge mock my deftruction.

Ev'n for

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 wifh'd might fall on me, when I was found
Falfe to his children, or his wife's allies.
This is the day, wherein I wifh'd to fall
By the falfe faith of him whom moft I trusted:
This, this All-Souls day to my fearful Soul,
* Is the determin'd refpite of my wrongs.
That high All-feer, which I dallied with,
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head,
And giv'n in earneft, what I begg'd in jeft.
Thus doth he force the fwords of wicked men
To turn their own points on their masters' bofoms.
Thus Margret's Curfe falls heavy on my head.
When he, quoth fhe, shall split thy heart with forrow,
Remember, Margret was a Prophetefs.

Come, Sirs, convey me to the block of fhame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. [Exeunt Buckingham, Sheriff and Officers.

[blocks in formation]

SCENE II.

Tamworth, on the Borders of Leicester-Shire.
A Camp.

Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others, with Drum and Colours.

.

Richm.ELLOWS 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;
And here receive we from our father Stanley
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
The wretched, bloody, and ufurping Boar,
That fpoil'd your fummer-fields, and fruitful vines,
Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his
trough

In your embowell'd bofoms; this foul fwine
Lies now ev'n in the centre of this Ifle,

Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn;
From Tamworth thither is but one day's march.
In God's name, cheerly on, couragious friends,
To reap the harveft of perpetual peace,
By this one bloody trial of fharp war.

Oxf. Ev'ry man's confcience is a thousand swords,

To fight against that bloody homicide.

Herb. I doubt not, but his friends will fly to us. Blunt. He hath no friends, but who are friends for fear,

Which in his deareft Need will fly from him.

• Emborell'd bofoms.] Exenterated; ripped up; alluding, perhaps, to the Promethean vulpre; or, more probably, to the fetence pronounced in the Eng

life courts against traytors, by which they are condemned to be hanged, drawn, that is, embowell'd, and quartered.

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