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John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
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Scene SCENE, Bosworth-Field. Enter Glo'ster, Norfolk, Ratcliff, Surrey, &c.

Glo'st.
Here pitch our tent, even in Bosworth-field:
My good lord of Norfolk, the cheerful speed
Of your supply has merited my thanks.

Norfolk.
I am rewarded, sir, in having power
To serve your majesty.

Glo'st.
You have our thanks, my lord: up with my tent:
Here will I lie, to-night—but where, to-morrow?
Well, no matter where—has any careful friend
Discover'd yet the number of the rebels?

Norfolk.
My lord, as I from spies am well inform'd,
Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.

Glo'.st
Why, our battalions treble that account;
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want.

-- 59 --

Norfolk.
Their wants are greater yet, my lord—those e'en
Of motion, life and spirit—did you but know
How wretchedly their men disgrace the field;
Oh, such a tatter'd host of mounted scare-crows!
So poor, so famish'd; their executors,
The greedy crows, fly hovering o'er their heads,
Impatient for their lean inheritance.

Glo'st.
Now, by St. Paul, we'll send 'em dinners and apparel;
Nay, give their fasting horses provender* note,
And after fight 'em—How long must we stay,
My lords, before these desperate fools will give
Us time to lay them with their faces upwards?

Norfolk.
Unless their famine saves our swords that labour,
To-morrow's sun will light 'em to their ruin;
So soon, I hear, they mean to give us battle.

Glo'st.
The sooner still the better—Come, my lords,
Now let's survey the 'vantage of the ground.
Call me some men of sound direction.

Norfolk.
My gracious lord—

Glo'st.
What say'st thou, Norfolk?

Norfolk.
Might I advise your majesty, you yet
Shall save the blood that may be shed to-morrow.

Glo'st.
How so, my lord?

Norfolk.
The poor condition of the rebels tell me;
That, on a pardon offer'd to the lives
Of those who instantly shall quit their arms,
Young Richmond, ere to-morrow's dawn, were friendless.

Glo'st.
Why that indeed was our sixth Harry's way,
Which made his reign one scene of rude commotion.
I'll be in men's despite a monarch; no,
Let kings that fear, forgive—Blows and revenge for me.
[Exeunt.
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John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].
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