Richm. All for our vantage, then in Gods name march,
True Hope is swift, and flyes with Swallowes wings,
Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings.
Exeunt. Omnes.
Enter King Richard in Armes with Norfolke, Ratcliffe, and the Earle of Surrey.
Rich. Here pitch our Tent, euen here in Bosworth field,
My Lord of Surrey, why looke you so sad?
Sur. My heart is ten times lighter then my lookes
Rich. My Lord of Norfolke
Nor. Heere most gracious Liege
Rich. Norfolke, we must haue knockes:
Ha, must we not?
Nor. We must both giue and take my louing Lord
Rich. Vp with my Tent, heere wil I lye to night,
But where to morrow? Well, all's one for that.
Who hath descried the number of the Traitors?
Nor. Six or seuen thousand is their vtmost power
Rich. Why our Battalia trebbles that account:
Besides, the Kings name is a Tower of strength,
Which they vpon the aduerse Faction want.
Vp with the Tent: Come Noble Gentlemen,
Let vs suruey the vantage of the ground.
Call for some men of sound direction:
Let's lacke no Discipline, make no delay,
For Lords, to morrow is a busie day.
Exeunt.
Enter Richmond, Sir William Branden, Oxford, and Dorset.
Richm. The weary Sunne, hath made a Golden set,
And by the bright Tract of his fiery Carre,
Giues token of a goodly day to morrow.
Sir William Brandon, you shall beare my Standard:
Giue me some Inke and Paper in my Tent:
Ile draw the Forme and Modell of our Battaile,
Limit each Leader to his seuerall Charge,
And part in iust proportion our small Power.
My Lord of Oxford, you Sir William Brandon,
And your Sir Walter Herbert stay with me:
The Earle of Pembroke keepes his Regiment;
Good Captaine Blunt, beare my goodnight to him,
And by the second houre in the Morning,
Desire the Earle to see me in my Tent:
Yet one thing more (good Captaine) do for me:
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?
Blunt. Vnlesse I haue mistane his Colours much,
(Which well I am assur'd I haue not done)
His Regiment lies halfe a Mile at least
South, from the mighty Power of the King
Richm. If without perill it be possible,
Sweet Blunt, make some good meanes to speak with him
And giue him from me, this most needfull Note
Blunt. Vpon my life, my Lord, Ile vndertake it,
And so God giue you quiet rest to night
Richm. Good night good Captaine Blunt:
Come Gentlemen,
Let vs consult vpon to morrowes Businesse;
Into my Tent, the Dew is rawe and cold.
They withdraw into the Tent.
Enter Richard, Ratcliffe, Norfolke, & Catesby.
Rich. What is't a Clocke?
Cat. It's Supper time my Lord, it's nine a clocke
King. I will not sup to night,
Giue me some Inke and Paper:
What, is my Beauer easier then it was?
And all my Armour laid into my Tent?
Cat. It is my Liege: and all things are in readinesse
Rich. Good Norfolke, hye thee to thy charge,
Vse carefull Watch, choose trusty Centinels,
Nor. I go my Lord
Rich. Stir with the Larke to morrow, gentle Norfolk
Nor. I warrant you my Lord.
Exit Rich. Ratcliffe
Rat. My Lord
Rich. Send out a Pursuiuant at Armes
To Stanleys Regiment: bid him bring his power
Before Sun-rising, least his Sonne George fall
Into the blinde Caue of eternall night.
Fill me a Bowle of Wine: Giue me a Watch,