King Richard III · Chapter 17Scene 5
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LORD DERBY'S house
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 Ha'rford west in Wales. STANLEY. What men of name resort to him? CHRISTOPHER. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier; SIR Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley, 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. Exeunt
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Salisbury. An open place
Enter the SHERIFF and guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to execution
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, my lord. 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 and 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. Exeunt