University of Virginia Library

SCEN. VI.

The Scene is changed to Bosworth-Field.
Enter King, Lovel, Ratclife, and Souldiers.
Richmond's Standard taken by the King is carried in Triumph before him.
King.
Behold the Traitor's Standard! here we see,
Heaven gives an earnest of full Victorie.

Lovel.
You the great Brandon slew; you this have gain'd:
We owe the day, Sir, to your single hand.
No Monarch's story boasts so high a deed;
As Kings all men surpass, you Kings exceed.

Ratclife.
You all the glorious marks of Conquest wear,
And greater, then your self, this day appear.
I saw stout Cheyny fall by your strong hand;
That sturdy Oak could not your Thunder stand.

King.
Richmond was next; I had him in my Eye;
But he was shelter'd by my Victory.
Such heaps of Bodies did obstruct my way,
That my own Conquests did my Conquest stay,
And Richmond for the safety of his Head
Ow'd less unto the Living, then the Dead.

[A Charge is sounded.
Lovel.
Hark! a fresh Charge they sound! these desp'rate men
Rally their broken Force, to break again.

Enter Souldier.
Treason, Sir, Treason! Stanly's false Brigade
Have left your Colours, and our Men invade:
Richmond in person leads them on; and all,
That have oppos'd them, either flye, or fall.

King.
Perfidious Slaves! Ratclife, without delay
These Fatal Rings to Catesby's hands convey.
I'le blast the Fruit of all their Victory:
Strange, and the Princess shall together dye.
Come; shew me Richmond: for I'le break through all
[To the Sould.
His Guards, and crush the Traytor with my fall.

[Exit King, &c.
Enter King, and Sir W. Stan. habited like Richmond at several doors.
King.
Ha! is it he? now Fortune, thou art kind!

Sir W. Stanly.
Enjoy your wish; For Richmond here you find.
Come, Sir, dispatch this work the shortest way:
Our single hands will best decide the day.

King.
Agree'd: of all my Stars I ask no more!
Thou art the only Saint, whom I implore.

[kissing his Sword. They fight.
Enter Rich. [with Souldiers.
What Vision's this, which does abuse my eye?
Richmond interposeth.
Have I a Ghost, that walks before I dye?
Who ere thou art (bold Champion) shew thy Face:
Thou dost usurp my Person, and my place.

King.
The Dragon's Teeth are sown in Bosworth Field,
Which does a Harvest of arm'd Richmonds yield!

[Sir William Stanly pulls up the Vizour of his Helmet.
Rich.
Sir William Stanly!

King.
Traytor! thy false heart
Shall taste my vengeance.

Richmond.
Hold, Sir; let my part
Be acted first: you needs must know this Face:
The Shadow to the substance must give place.

Sir W. Stan.
Great Sir, the Law of Arms proclaims my right;
My Sword began it, and must end the Fight.

Richmond.
Not a word more; or I shall look on you,
As on the worst Usurper of the two.

King.
End your contention: both employ'd shall be.

Rich.
This Sword, and Justice otherwise decree.
[They fight.
How great thy Fame had bin, hadst thou been good!
[the King fals.
Pursue the flying; but spare English Blood.

[Ex. Sould. in pursuit.
King.
Fate! art thou just? what Crime is laid on me,
But the resemblance of thy Tyranny?
Since I must lose my Throne, I only crave,
That nothing may be found beyond the Grave.

[dyes.
Rich.
Remove the Corps. Heaven, thou art just, and good!
So Tyrants rise, and so they fall in Blood.
My gallant likeness, you must now reveal
The cause of this extravagance of Zeal.

Sir W. Stan.
Great Sir, I took your shape, because I knew,
The Tyrant's Rage did chiefly aim at you.
My Loyal care made me ambitious grow
To rob you of your danger, and your Foe.

Richmond.
My Person you in Fight so well became,
That, what was like, I wish, had been the same.

Enter Oxford.
Sir, all the bus'ness of the War is done:
The Living and the Dead your Conquest own:
The yielding Foe makes useless all our Swords,
And for your Mercy only work affords.

Richmond.
My Lord, when we are Dust, our Race will know,
How much this Day I to your Conduct owe:
The Name of Vere to me, and mine shall be
As high in Honour, as in Loyaltie.
[Enter Lord Stanly.
O, my dear Friend! must I rejoyce, or grieve
In this great Triumph? does the Princess live?

Ld Stanly.
Sir, she does live; and her past dangers prove
The glorious Marks, and Trophies of her Love:
Her faithful Page has all our Zeal out-done,
And to redeem her Life, expos'd his own:
My George his high Intentions did express;
But only Charlot's Courage had Success.

Richmond.
Heaven can my Joys no farther now improve,
Since I am blest in Conquest, and in Love.
My faithful Stanly, I shall need your care
To prosecute the Bus'ness of the War:
For I, my Lords, no longer can forbear
To see her free, whose glorious Chains I wear.

[Exeunt omnes.
The Scene is changed to the Cloister, where the Princess was retired.