As I by friends am well advertised,

Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate,
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

With many moe confederates, are in arms.

Enter another Messenger.

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2 Messenger. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in

arms;

And every hour more competitors

Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

Enter a third Messenger.

3 Messenger. My lord, the army of great Buckingham— King Richard. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of

death?

[He strikes him.

There, take thou that, till thou bring better news.

3 Messenger. The news I have to tell your majesty Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters

Buckingham's army is dispers'd and scatter'd,
And he himself wander'd away alone,

No man knows whither.

King Richard.

I cry thee mercy;

There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd

Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

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3 Messenger. Such proclamation hath been made, my lord.

Enter a fourth Messenger.

4 Messenger. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset, 'T is said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms;

But this good comfort bring I to your highness,-
The Breton navy is dispers'd by tempest.
Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks
If they were his assistants, yea or no;

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Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham

Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,

Hois'd sail and made his course again for Bretagne.

King Richard. March on, march on, since we are up in

arms;

If not to fight with foreign enemies,

Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

Enter CATESBY.

Catesby. My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is taken; That is the best news: that the Earl of Richmond

Is with a mighty power landed at Milford

Is colder news, but yet they must be told.

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King Richard. Away towards Salisbury! while we reason here

A royal battle might be won and lost.—

Some one take order Buckingham be brought

To Salisbury; the rest march on with me.

SCENE V. Lord Stanley's House.

[Exeunt.

Enter STANLEY and SIR CHRISTOPHER URSWICK.

Stanley. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me,—

That in the sty of the most deadly boar

My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold:

If I revolt, off goes young George's head;
The fear of that holds off my present ‘aid.
So, get thee gone; commend me to thy lord.
Withal, say that the queen hath-heartily consented-
He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter.

But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?

Christopher. At Pembroke, or at Hertford West, in Wales. Stanley. What men of name resort to him?

Christopher. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier ;

Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;

II

Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew,
And many other of great name and worth:
And towards London do they bend their power,
If by the way they be not fought withal.

Stanley. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand:
My letter will resolve him of
my mind.

Farewell.

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[Exeunt.

SCENE I. Salisbury. An open Place.

Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to exe-. cution.

Buckingham. Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

Sheriff. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

Buckingham. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and Rivers,

Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
By underhand corrupted foul injustice,
If that your moody discontented souls

Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction !—

This is All-Souls' day, fellow, is it not?

Sheriff. It is.

10

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

This is the day which, in King Edward's time,

I wish'd might fall on me when I was found
False to his children or his wife's allies;
This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall

By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;
This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.
That high All-Seer which I dallied with
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head,
And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms;
Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck:

'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margaret was a prophetess.'-

Come, lead me, officers, to the block of shame;

Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

20

29

[Exeunt Buckingham and Officers.

SCENE II. A Plain near Tamworth.

Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, BLUNT, HERBERT, and others, with drum and colours.

Richmond. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,