[♦] Richm. 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. [Exeunt.
fec SCENE III. Bosworth Field.
Enter KING RICHARD in arms with NORFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY, and others.
[♦] K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field.
[♦] My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?
[♦] Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
K. Rich. My Lord of Norfolk,—
[♦] Nor. Here, most gracious liege.