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RICHMOND: |
All for our vantage. Then, in God's name, march: |
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings: |
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. |
KING RICHARD III: |
Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field. |
My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad? |
SURREY: |
My heart is ten times lighter than my looks. |
KING RICHARD III: |
My Lord of Norfolk,-- |
NORFOLK: |
Here, most gracious liege. |
KING RICHARD III: |
Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not? |
NORFOLK: |
We must both give and take, my gracious lord. |
KING RICHARD III: |
Up with my tent there! here will I lie tonight; |
But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that. |
Who hath descried the number of the foe? |
NORFOLK: |
Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. |
KING RICHARD III: |
Why, our battalion trebles that account: |
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, |
Which they upon the adverse party want. |
Up with my tent there! Valiant gentlemen, |
Let us survey the vantage of the field |
Call for some men of sound direction |
Let's want no discipline, make no delay, |
For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. |
RICHMOND: |
The weary sun hath made a golden set, |
And by the bright track of his fiery car, |
Gives signal, of a goodly day to-morrow. |
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard. |
Give me some ink and paper in my tent |
I'll draw the form and model of our battle, |
Limit each leader to his several charge, |
And part in just proportion our small strength. |
My Lord of Oxford, you, Sir William Brandon, |
And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me. |
The Earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment: |
Good Captain Blunt, bear my good night to him |
And by the second hour in the morning |
Desire the earl to see me in my tent: |
Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou go'st, |
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, dost thou know? |
BLUNT: |
Unless I have mista'en his colours much, |
Which well I am assured I have not done, |
His regiment lies half a mile at least |
South from the mighty power of the king. |
RICHMOND: |
If without peril it be possible, |
Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, |
And give him from me this most needful scroll. |
BLUNT: |
Upon my life, my lord, I'll under-take it; |
And so, God give you quiet rest to-night! |
RICHMOND: |
Good night, good Captain Blunt. Come gentlemen, |
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business |
In to our tent; the air is raw and cold. |
KING RICHARD III: |
What is't o'clock? |
CATESBY: |
It's supper-time, my lord; |
It's nine o'clock. |
KING RICHARD III: |
I will not sup to-night. |
Give me some ink and paper. |
What, is my beaver easier than it was? |
And all my armour laid into my tent? |
CATESBY: |
If is, my liege; and all things are in readiness. |
KING RICHARD III: |
Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; |
Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. |
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