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Stanl. So deal with him, as I prove true to you !
[Exit Stanley.

Enter a Meffengeris pidage

Mef. My gracious Sov'reign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends am well advertifed, who did be Sir Edmund Courtney, and the haughty Prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

With many more confed'rates, are in arms.


Enter another Messenger.

Mef. In Kent, My Liege the Guilfords are in arms, And every hour (2) more competitors.

Flock to the Rebels, and their Power grows ftrong. awon fed ada di Enter another Messenger.

Mef. My Lord the army of the Duke of Buckingham

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K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but fongs of
death id
[He ftrikes him.
There, take thou that, 'till thou bring better news. o
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.


Here 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 Mellenger.

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,

(2) More competitors] That is, more opponents.


The Bretagne Navy is difper'sd, by tempeft.
Richmond in Dorfetfhire fent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask thofe on the banks,
If they were his affiftants, yea, or no ;
Who anfwer'd him, they came from Buckingham
Upon his Party; he miftrufting them,

Hois'd fail, and made his courfe for Bretagny...
K. Rich. March on, march on, fince we are up in


If not to fight with foreign enemies,

Yet to beat down thefe Rebels here at home.

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Catef. My Liege, the Duke of Buckingham is


That is the best news.

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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.


Changes to the Lord Stanley's House.


Enter Lord Stanley, and Sir Chriftopher Urfwick. Stanl. (3) Sir Chriftopher, tell Richmond this from


(3) Sir Chriftopher, tell Richmond this from me ;] The Perfon, who is call'd Sir Chriftopher here, and who has been ftill'd fo in the Dramatis Perfonæ 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 Huf band, and the young Earl of Richmond, whilft he was preparing to make his Defcent on England. THEOBALD.


That in the fty of this moft 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 prefent aid.
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?
Chris 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 kifs his hand,
My Letter will refolve him of my mind.




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



ILL not King Richard let me fpeak with him?
Sher. No, good my Lord, therefore be pa-

Buck. Haftings, and Edward's children, Gray and wo 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 present hour,
Ev'n for revenge mock my deftruction.

This is All-Souls day, fellows, is it not?
Sher. It is, my Lord.

Buck. Why, then All-Souls day is my body's

This is the day, which in King Edward's time
I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found
Falfe to his children, or his wife's allies.
This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall
By the falfe faith of him whom moft I trufted
This, this All-Souls day to my fearful Soul, wolf Inf.
(4) Is the determin'd refpite of my wrongs, and bar.
That high All-feer, which I dallied with, chiawor bah
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head, sev
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, fhall fplit thy heart with forrow,
Remember, Margret was a Prophetefs.

Come, Sirs, convey me to the block of fhame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and (5) blame the due of


[Exeunt Buckingham, Sheriff and Officers.

(4) Is the determin'd RESPITE of my wrongs.] This is nonfenfe, we should read RESPECT of my wrongs, i, e. requital. WARBURTON.,

Hanmer had rightly explained it, the time to which the punishment of his wrongs was refpited.

Wrongs in this line means wrongs done, or injurious practices.

(5) Blame the due of blame.] This fcene fhould, in my opinion, be added to the foregoing act, fo the fourth act will have a more full and ftriking conclufion, and the fifth act will comprife the bufinefs of the important day, which put an end to the competition of York and Lancaster. Some of the quarto editions are not divided into acts, and it is probable that this and many other plays were left by the authour in one unbroken continuity, and afterwards difturbed by chance, or what feems to have been a guide very little better, by the judgment or caprice of the firft editors. SCENE


Tamworth, on the Borders of Leicester-Shire.

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

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

In your embowell'd bofoms (6); 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 harvest of perpetual peace,
By this one bloody trial of fharp war.

Oxf. Every man's confcience is a thoufand fwords,

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


Which in his deareft Need will fly from him.

Richm. All for our vantage-then, in God's name,


True hope is fwift, and flies with Swallow's wings, Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings. Adora [Exeunt.


(6) Embowell'd bofoms,] Exenterated; ripped up; alluding, perhaps, to the Promethean vulture; or, more probably, to the fentence pronounced in the English courts against traytors, by which they are condemned to be hanged, drawn, that is, embowell'd, and quartered.


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