Other stuff of this sort may be read throughout the whole Tragedie, wherein the Poet us'd not much licence in departing from the truth of History, which delivers him a deep dissembler, not of his affections only, but of Religion. EIKONOKAAZTEZ. The Author I. M., Lond. 4to. 1649, p. 11.

(2) SCENE IV.-Come, I'll conduct you to the sanctuary.] "These tidynges came hastely to the quene before mydnighte, by a very sore reporte that the kynge her sonne was taken and that her brother and her other sonne and other her frendes were arested and sent, no man wyste whether. With this heavy tidynges the quene bewayled her chyldes ruyne, her frendes mischaunce, and her owne infortune, curssyng the tyme that ever she was persuaded to leave the gatherynge of people to brynge up the kynge with a great powre, but that was passed, and therfore now she toke her younger sonne the duke of Yorke and her doughters, and went out of the palays of Westminster into the sanctuary, and there lodged in the abbotes place, and she and all her chyldren and compaignie were regestred for sanctuarye-persons. The same night there came to doctor Rotheram Archebyshop of Yorke and lorde Chauncelour, a messenger from the lorde Chambrelayne to Yorke place besyde Westminster: the messenger was broughte to the bisshoppes bedsyde and declared to him that the dukes were gone backe with the young kyng to Northampton, and declared further, that the lorde Hastynges his maister sent hym worde that he shoulde feare nothyng, for all should be well. (Wel quod the Arche

bishop) be it as wel as it wyl, it wyll never be so wel as we have sene it, and then the messenger departed. Wherupon the bishop called up all his servauntes and toke with hym the great scale and came before day to the quene, about whom he found much hevynesse, rumble, haste, busynesse, conveighaunce, and cariage of her stuffe into sanctuarye, every man was busy to carye, beare and conveigh stuffe, chestes and fardelles, no man was unoccupied, and some caried more then they were commaunded to another place.

The quene sat alone belowe on the rushes all desolate and dismayde, whom the Archebishoppe comforted in the best maner that he coulde, shewyng her that the matter was nothyng so sore as she tooke it for, and that he was putte in good hope and out of feare by the message sent to hym from the lord Hastynges. A wo worth hym' quod the quene, for it is he that goeth about to destroy me and my blodde.' 'Madame,' quod he, 'be of good comforte and I assure you, yf they croune any other kynge then your sonne whom they now have, we shal on the morow croune his brother whom you have here with you. And here is the greate seale, which in likewyse as your noble husband delivered it to me, so I deliver it to you to the use of your sonne,' and therwith delivered her the greate seale and departed home in the dawning of the day. And when he opened his wyndowes and loked on the Temys, he might see the river full of boates, of the duke of Gloucester his servauntes watchyng, that no person should go to sanctuary, nor none should passe unserched." -HALL

(1) SCENE I.-Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber.] London was anciently called Camera Regis;-a name of which Buckingham took advantage in his speech to the citizens upon the death of Hastings :-"The prince by this noble citye as his special chamber, and the well renowned citye of this realme, much honorable fame receiveth among all other nacions.' The best explanation of the term is given in Ben Jonson's "Part of King James's Entertainment in passing to his coronation, through the City of London, on Thursday the 15th of March 1603:

At Fen-Church.

The scene presented it self in a square and flat upright, like to the side of a city: the top thereof, above the vent and crest, adorned with houses, towers and steeples, set off in prospective. Upon the battlements in a great capital letter was inscribed,

LONDINIUM:

According to Tacitus, Annal. lib. 14. * * *Beneath that in a less and different character, was written

CAMERA REGIA,

which title immediately after the Norman conquest it began to have; and by the indulgence of successive princes, hath been hitherto continued. In the frieze over the gate it seemeth to speak this verse:

PAR DOMUS HÆC CELO, SED MINOR EST DOMINO.

Taken out of Martial (lib. 8. epig. 36) and implying that though this city (for the state and magnificence) might by hyperbole be said to touch the stars, and reach up to heaven, yet was it far inferior to the master thereof, who

* Sir Thomas More's Life of King Richard III. fo. 63.

was his Majesty; and in that respect unworthy to receive him. The highest person advanced therein, was

MONARCHIA BRITANNICA;

and fitly; applying to the abovementioned title of the city, THE KING'S CHAMBER, and therefore here placed as in the proper seat of the empire."

(2) SCENE I.

You are too senseless-obstinate, my lord,
Too ceremonious, and traditional,

Weigh it but with the grossness of this age.]

Buckingham's reasons against the young duke of York's right to enjoy the privilege of sanctuary, were first set forth by Sir Thomas More, and were copied by Hall and Holinshed, from one or other of whom the poet took them :

"Womanish feare, naie womanish frowardnes' (quod the duke of Buckingham) *** I ensure you faithfully for my mynde, I will rather (maugre her stomacke) fetche hym away then leave him there till her frowardnesse or fond feare conveie him awaye. And yet will I break no sanctuary, for verely sithe the privilege of that place and other of that sorte have so long continued, I would not goe about to breake it, but if they were now to begynne I would not be he that should make them. Yet wyll not I say nay but it is a deede of pitie that such men as the chaunce of the sea or their evill debters have brought into povertie, should have some place of refuge to kepe in their bodies out of the daunger of their cruel creditours. And if it fortune the croune to come in question, as it hath done before this tyme, while eche parte taketh other for traytours, I thinke it necessarye to have a place of refuge for bothe: But as for theves and murtherers whereof these places be full, and whiche never falle from their crafte after they once falle therunto, it is pytee that ever Sanctuary

should serve them, and in especiall wylful murtherers whom God commaundeth to be taken from the aulter and to be put to death. *** Nowe loke how fewe sanctuary menne there be whome necessitie or misfortune compelled to go thether. And then see on the other syde what a sort there be commonly therein of suche whome wylful unthriftynes hath brought to naught? What a rable of theves, murtherers, and malicious heinous traitours be, and that in twoo places specially; the one at the elbow of the cytee and the other in the very bowels. I dare well a vowe it, if you waye the good that they do, with the hurt that commoth of them, ye shall finde it muche better to lose bothe then to have bothe. And this I saye, although they were not abused (as they now be and so long have bene) that I feare me ever they will be, while men be afeard to set to their hands to the amendmente, as though God and saincte Peter were the patrons of ungracious livynge. Nowe unthriftes riot and ronne in debte upon boldnes of these places; yea, and riche men ronne thyther with poore mens goodes: there they buylde, there they spend and bid their creditours goo whystle. Mens wyves ronne thither with their husbandes plate and saye they dare not abyde with their husbandes for betynge; theves brynge thither stollen goodes and lyve thereon. There devise they new robberies nightely, and steale out and rob, reave and kylle menne, and come againe into those places as though those places gave them not onely a savegard for the harme that they have dooen but a licence also to do more mischief.

Where a manne is by lawfull meanes in peril there nedeth he the tuition of some speciall privilege which is the onely grounde of all sanctuaries; from which necessitee this noble prince is farre, whose love to his kynge, nature and kinred proveth: whose innocencie to all the worlde, his tender youth affirmeth, and so sanctuarye, as for hym is not necessary, ner none he can have. Men come not to sanctuary as they come to baptisme, to require it by his godfathers; he must aske it himselfe that must have it; and reason, sithe no maune hath cause to have it but whose conscience of his owne faute maketh him have nede to

require it. What will then hath yonder babe, which yf he had discretion to require it, if nede were, I dare say would be now right angry with them that kepe him there. ** And if nobody may be taken out of sanctuary because he saieth he will abide there, then yf a child will take sanctuary because he feareth to go to schoole, his master must lette him alone. And as simple as that example is, yet is there lesse reason in our case then in it, for there, though it be a childish feare, yet is there at the least some feare, and herein is no feare at all. And verily I have hearde of sanctuary menne, but I never hearde before of sanctuary children: and therefore as for the conclusion of my minde, whosoever may deserve to have nede of it, if thei thynke it for their suretee, let them kepe it. * And he that taketh one out of sanctuarye to doe him goode, I saie plainly, he breaketh no sanctuary.'"-HALL.

(3) SCENE I.-For we to-morrow hold divided councils.] This is correspondent with historical fact:

"And when they were thus at a point betweene themselves [Richard and Buckingham] they went about to prepare for the coronation of the young king, as they would have it seeme. And that they might turne both the eies and minds of men from perceiving of their drifts otherwhere, the lords being sent for from all parts of the realme, came thicke to that solemnitie. But the protector and the duke, after that they had sent the lord cardinall, the archbishope of Yorke then lord chancellor, the bishop of Elie, the lord Stanleie, and the lord Hastings then lord chamberlaine, with manie other noble men to common and devise about the coronation in one place, as fast were they in an other place, contriving the contrarie, and to make the protector king.

To which councell albeit there were adhibited verie few, and they were secret: yet began there here and there abouts, some maner of muttering among the people, as though all should not long be well, though they neither wist what they feared, nor wherefore; were it, that before such great things, mens hearts of a secret instinct of na

579

ture misgive them; as the sea without winde swelleth of himselfe sometime before a tempest; or were it that some one man, happilie somewhat perceiving, filled manie men with suspicion, though he shewed few men what he knew. Howbeit somewhat the dealing it selfe made men to muse on the matter, though the councell were close. For by little and little all folke withdrew from the Tower, and drew unto Crosbies in Bishops gates street, where the protector kept his houshold. The protector had the resort, the king in maner desolate.

While some for their businesse made sute to them that had the dooing, some were by their freends secretlie warned, that it might happilie turne them to no good to be too much attendant about the king without the protectors appointment, which remooved also diverse of the princes old servants from him, and set new about him. Thus manie things comming togither, partlie by chance, partlie of purpose, caused at length not common people onelie, that woond with the wind, but wise men also, and some lords eke to marke the matter and muse thereon; so farre foorth that the lord Stanleie that was after earle of Derbie, wiselie mistrusted it, and said unto the lord Hastings, that he much misliked these two severall councels. 'For while we' (quoth he) talke of one matter in the tone place, little wot we wherof they talke in the tother place." -HOLINSHED.

"

(4) SCENE IV.

Come, lead me to the block; bear him my head:
They smile at me who shortly shall be dead.]

The leading incidents connected with the sudden impeachment and execution of Hastings, are borrowed, probably through Holinshed, from the following relation of them by Sir Thomas More :

Many Lordes assembled in the tower, and there sat in counsaile, devising the honourable solempnite of the kinges coronacion, of which the time appointed then so nere approched; that the pageauntes and suttelties were in making day and night at Westminster, and much vitaile killed therfore, that afterward was cast away. These lordes so sytting togyther comoning of thys matter, the protectour came in among them, fyrst aboute ix. of the clock, saluting them curtesly, and excusing hymself tha: he had bene so long, saieng merely that he had bene a slepe that day. And after a little talking with them, he sayd unto the Bishop of Elye: my lord you have very good strawberies at your gardayne in Holberne, I require you let us have a messe of them. Gladly my lord, quod he, woulde God I had some better thing as redy to your pleasure as that. And therewith in al the hast he sent hys servant for a messe of strauberies. The protectour sette the lordes fast in comoning, and thereupon prayeng them to spare hym for a little while, departed thence. And sone after one hower betwene x. and xi. he returned into the chamber among them, al changed with a wonderful soure angrye countenaunce, knitting the browes, frowning and froting and knawing on hys lippes, and so sat hym downe in hys place: al the lords much dismaied and sore merveiling of this manner of sodaine chaunge, and what thing should him aile. Then when he had sitten still a while, thus he began: what were they worthy to have, that compasse and ymagine the distruccion of me, being so nere of blood unto the kyng and protectour of his riall persone and his realme. At this question, al the lordes sat sore astonied, musyng much by whome thys question should be ment, of which every man wyst himselfe clere. Then the lord chamberlen, as he for the love betwene them thoughte he might be boldest with him, aunswered and sayd, that thei wer worthye to bee punished as heighnous traitors whatsoever they were. And al the other affirmed the same. That is (quod he) yonder sorceres my brothers wife and other with her, meaning the quene. At these wordes many of the other Lordes were gretly abashed that favoured her. But the lord Hastings was in his minde better content, that it was moved by her, then by any other whom he loved better. Albeit hys harte somewhat grudged, that he was not afore, PP 2

made of counsell in this mater as he was of the takyng of her kynred, and of their putting to death, which were by his assent before, devised to bee byhedded at Pountfreit this selfe same day, in which he was not ware that it was by other devised, that himself should the same day be behedded at London. Then said the protectour: ye shal al se in what wyse that sorceres and that other witch of her counsel, Shoris wife wyth their affynite, have by their sorcery and witchcraft wasted my body. And therwyth he plucked up hys doublet sleve to his elbow upon his left arme, where he shewed a werish withered arme and small, as it was never other. And therupon every mannes mind sore misgave them, well perceiving that this mater was but a quarel. For wel thei wist, that the quene was to wise to go about any such folye. And also if she woold, yet wolde she of all folke leste make Shoris wyfe of counsaile, whom of al women she most hated, as that concubine whom the king her husband had most loved. And also no man was ther present but wel knew that his arme was ever such since his birth. Natheles the lorde Chamberlen (which from the death of king Edward kept Shoris wife, on whom he somewhat doted in the kinges life, saving as it is said he that while forbare her of reverence towarde hys king, or els of a certaine kinde of fidelite to hys frend) aunswered and sayd: certainly my lorde if they have so heinously done, thei be worthy heinouse punishmente. What, quod the protectour, thou servest me I wene with iffes and with andes, I tel the thei have so done, and that I will make good on thy body, traitour. And therwith as in a great anger, he clapped his fiste upon the borde a great rappe. At which token given, one cried treason without the chambre. Therwith a dore clapped, and in come ther rushing men in harneys as many as the chambre might hold. And anon the protectour sayd to the lorde Hastinges: I arest the, traitour. What me, my Lorde, quod he. Yea the, traitour, quod the protectour. And a nother let flee at the Lorde Standley which shronke at the stroke and fel under the table, or els his hed had bene clefte to the tethe; for as shortely as he shranke, yet ranne the blood about hys eares. Then were they al quickly bestowed in diverse chambres, except the lorde Chamberlen, whom the protectour bade spede and shryve hym a pace, for by saynt Poule (quod he) I wil not to dinner til I se thy hed of. It boted him not to aske why, but hevely he toke a priest at adventure, and made a short shrift, for a longer would not be suffere 1, the protectour made so much hast to dyner: which he might not go to til this wer done for saving of his othe. So was he brought forthe into the grone beside the chappel within the tower,

and his head laid down upon a long log of tymbre, and there striken of, and afterward his body with the hed entred at Windsore beside the body of kinge Edward, whose both soules our lord pardon."-MORE.

(5) SCENE V.-Enter GLOUCESTER and BUCKINGHAM, in rusty armour, marvellous ill-favoured.] An historical fact. "Nowe flewe the fame of thys lordes death through the cytie and farther about, lyke a wynde in every mans eare, but the Protectour immediately after dyner (entendyng to set some colour upon the matter) sent in all the haste for many substancial men out of the cytie into the Towre, and at their comming him selfe with the Duke of Buckyngham stode, harnessed in olde evill favoured briganders, such as no man would wene that they would have vouchesafed to have put on their backes, excepte some sodeyne necessitie had constraigned them. Then the lord protector shewed them, that the lord Hastynges and other of his conspiracy had contrived to have sodeynly destroyed hym and the Duke of Buckyngham there the same daie in counsail, and what they entended farther, was yet not well knowen, of whiche their treason he had never knowlege before .x. of the clocke the same forenone, which sodeyn feare drave them to put on suche harnesse as came next to their handes for their defence, and so God holpe them, that the mischiefe turned upon them that woulde have done it, and thus he required them to report. Every man answered fayre, as though no man mistrusted the matter, which of trueth no man beleved." -HALL.

(6) SCENE VI.-And yet within these five hours Hastings liv'd.] So Hall, who follows Sir Thomas More:-" Nowe was thys proclamacion made within twoo houres after he was beheaded, and it was so curiously endyted and so fayre writen in Parchment in a fayre sette hande, and therewith of it selfe so long a processe, that every chyld might perceyve that it was prepared and studyed before (and as some men thought, by Catesby) for all the tyme betwene hys death and the proclamacion proclaimyng, coulde skant have suffyced unto the bare wrytyng alone, albeit that it had bene on paper and scribeled furthe in haste at adventure. So that upon the proclaimyng thereof, one that was scolemayster at Paules standyng by and comparyng the shortenesse of the tyme with the length of the matter sayed to theim that stoode aboute hym, here is a gaye goodly cast, foule cast awaye for hast. And a marchaunte that stoode by hym sayed that it was wrytten by inspiracyon and prophesye."-HALL.

(1) SCENE I.-Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain !] The ancient mode of punishing a regicide, or one who attempted to deprive a lawful monarch of his realm, was to crown him with a coronet of iron made red-hot. In Goulart's "Admirable and Memorable Histories," 1607, it is related that John, the son of Vaivode Stephen, after defeating the army of Hungarian peasants, called Croisadoes, in 1514, caused their general to be stript naked, and the executioner to set a crown of "hot burning iron" upon his head. Other instances of this horrible torture, which was, probably, first derived from the Northern nations, are referred to in the notes to the Variorum Shakespeare, Edit. 1821, p. 153, Vol. XIX.

(2) SCENE II.-The boy is foolish, and I fear not him.] Edward, Earl of Warwick, the unhappy son of Clarence, was imprisoned by Gloucester at Sherif-hutton Castle; whence, the day after the battle of Bosworth, he was removed, by the order of Richmond, to the Tower. There he remained in captivity until the year 1499, when he was barbarously executed on Tower Hill. Owing to his long

confinement, and the consequent neglect of his education, he is said by the historians to have become idiotic at the time of his death:-"Edouardus Varvici comes in carcere ab incunabulis extra hominum ferarumque conspectum nutritus, qui gallinam ab ansere non facile internoscerit, cum nullo suo delicto supplicium quærere posset, alieno ad id tractus est."-POLYDORE VIRGIL.

(3) SCENE II.—

The earldom of Hereford, and the moveables, The which you promised 1 should possess.] "At Northhampton the duke met with the protector himselfe with three hundred horses, and from thence still continued with him partner of all his devises, till that after his coronation, they departed (as it seemed) verie great freends at Glocester. From whense as soone as the duke came home, he so lightlie turned from him, and so highlie conspired against him, that a man would marvell whereof the change grew. And surelie the occasion of their variance is of diverse men diverselie reported.

Some have I heard say, that the duke a little before his coronation, among other things, required of the protector the duke of Hereford's lands, to the whiche he pretended himselfe just inheritor. And forsomuch as the title which he claimed by inheritance, was somewhat interlaced with the title to the crowne by the line of King Henrie before deprived, the protector conceived such indignation, that he rejected the dukes request with many spitefull and minatorie words. Which so wounded his heart with hatred and mistrust, that he never after coulde endure to looke aright on king Richard, but ever feared his owne life."-HOLINSHED.

"When these sweet children thus were lain in bed, And to the Lord their hearty prayers had said, Sweet slumbring sleep then closing up their eyes, Each folded in the other's arms then lies."

(5) SCENE IV.-Humphrey Hour.] This expression has been controverted; Steevens conjectured the poet designed to mark the hour at which the good Duchess was as hungry as the followers of Duke Humphrey, and he quotes a passage from Decker's pamphlet, "The Guls Hornbooke," 1609, in explanation of the phrase, "dining with Duke Humphrey," the meaning of which it now familiar to everybody. Malone supposes Humphrey Hour "is merely used in ludicrous language for hour, like Tom Troth, for truth, and twenty more such terms." We apprehend Steevens's surmise is nearer the true solution, and that Humphrey hour was nothing more than a cant phrase for eating hour.

(1) SCENE III.—

Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, Be executed in his father's sight.]

"The lorde Stanleie was afraid, least if he should seeme openlie to be a fautor, or aider to the earle his sonne in law, before the day of the battell, that king Richard, which yet utterly did not put him in diffidence and mistrust, would put to some cruell death his sonne and heir apparant, George lord Strange, whome king Richard (as you have heard before) kept with him as a pledge or hostage, to the intent that the lord Stanleie his father should attempt nothing prejudiciall to him."-HOLINSHED.

(2) SCENE III.—

Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife, That never slept a quiet hour with thee.] Malone observes that Shakespeare was probably thinking of Sir Thomas More's animated description of Richard :"I have heard by credible report of such as were secrete with his chamberers, that after this abhominable deede done, he never hadde quiet in his minde, hee never thought himself sure. Where he went abrode, his eyen whirled about, his body privily fenced, his hand ever on his dager, his countenance and maner like one alway ready to strike againe, he tooke ill rest a nightes, lay long wakyng and musing, sore weried with care and watch, rather slumbred then slept, troubled wyth fearful dreames, sodainly sommetyme sterte up, leape out of his bed and runne about the chamber, so was his restles herte continually tossed and tumbled with the tedious impression and stormy remembrance of his abhominable dede.' MORE.

(3) SCENE III.-God, and Saint George !] "Saint George was the common cry of the English soldiers when they charged the enemy. The author of the old Arte of Warre, printed in the latter end of Queen Elizabeth's reign, formally enjoins the use of this cry among his military laws, p. 84:-

'Item, that all souldiers entring into battaile, assault, skirmish, or other faction of armes, shall have for their common cry and word, Saint George, forward, or upon them, Saint George, whereby the souldiour is much comforted, and the enemy dismaied by calling to minde the ancient valour of England, which with that name has so often been victorious; and therefore he, who upon any sinister reale, shall maliciously omit so fortunate a name, shall be

severely punished for his obstinate erroneous heart, and perverse mind."

(4) SCENE V.-The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead!] The old chroniclers furnish a very long but spirited account of the decisive battle which terminated Richard's career. We append some extracts :

"In the meane ceason kyng Richard (whicho was appoynted nowe to finyshe his last laboure by the very devine justice and providence of God, whiche called hym to condigne punyshement for his scelerate merites and myscheveous desertes) marched to a place mete for twoo battayles to encountre by a village called Bosworth, not farre from Leycester, and there he pitched his felde, refreshed his souldioures and toke his rest. The fame went that he had the same night a dreadfull and a terrible dreame, for yt semed to hym beynge a slepe, that he sawe diverse ymages like terrible develles whiche pulled and haled hym, not sufferynge hym to take any quyet or rest. The whiche straunge vision not so sodenily strake his heart with a sodeyn feare, but it stuffed his hed, and troubled his mynde with many dreadfull and busy Imaginacions. For incontynent after, his heart beynge almost damped, he pronosticated before the doubtfull chaunce of the battaile to come, not usynge the alacrite and myrth of mynde and of countenaunce as he was accustomed to do before he came toward the battaile. And leaste that it might be suspected that he was abasshed for feare of his enemyes, and for that cause looked so piteously, he recyted and declared to his famylyer frendes in the morenynge hys wonderfull visyon and terrible dreame. But I thynke this was no dreame, but a punction and pricke of his synfull conscyence."

After detailing the speeches first of king Richard, and then of Richmond, Hall proceeds :

"He had scantly finyshed his saienge, but the one armye espyed the other, lord how hastely the souldioures buckled their healmes, how quikly the archers bent ther bowes and frushed their feathers, how redely the byllmen shoke their bylles and proved their staves, redy to approche and joyne when the terrible trompet should sound the bluddy blast to victorie. or deathe. Betwene both armies ther was a great marrysse which therle of Richemond left on his right hand, for this entent that it should be on that syde a defence for his parte, and in so doyng he had the sonne at his backe and in the faces of his enemics. When kynge Richard saw the carles compaignie was passed the marresse, he commaunded with al hast to sett upon them, then the trompettes blew and the

souldiours showted, and the kyngs archers couragiously let fly there arrowes; the erles bowmen stode not still but paied them home againe. The terrible shot ons passed, the armies joyned, and came to hand strokes, where nother swerde nor byll was spared, at whiche encounter the lord Stanley joyned with therle. The earl of Oxforde in the meane season feryng lest while his compaignie was fightyng, thei should be compassed and circumvented with the multitude of his enemies, gave commaundement in every ranke that no man should be so hardy as go above .x. fote from the standard, whiche commaundement ons knowen thei knyte themselves together, and ceased a littel from fightyng. While the two forwardes thus mortallye fought, eche entendyng to vanquishe and convince the other, kyng Richard was admonished by his explorators and espialles, that therle of Richmond accompaignied with a small nomber of men of armes was not farre of, and as he approched and marched toward him, he perfitely knew his personage by certaine demonstracions and tokens whiche he had learned and knowen of other. And being inflamed with ire and vexed with outrageous malice, he put his spurres to his horse, and rode out of the syde of the range of his battaile, levyng the avant gardes fightyng, and lyke a hungery lion ran with spere in rest toward hym.

Therle of Richmonde perceyved wel the king furiusly commyng towarde hym, and by cause the whole hope of his welth and purpose was to be determined by battaill, he gladlye proferred to encountre with him body to body and man to man. Kyng Richard sett on so sharpoly at the first brount that he overthrew therles standarde, and slew Sir William Brandon his standarde bearer (whiche was father to Sir Charles Brandon by kynge Hery the .VIII. created duke of Suffolke) and matched hand to hand with Sir Jhon Cheinye, a man of great force and strength which would have resisted hym, and the saied Jhon was by hym manfully overthrowen, and so he makyng open passage by dent of swerde as he went forwarde, therle of Richmond withstode his violence and kept hym at the swerdes poincte without avantage longer than his compaignions other thought or judged, which beyng almost in dispaire of victorie, were sodainly recomforted by Sir William Stanley, whiche came to succours with .iii. thousande tall men, at whiche very instant kynge Richardes men were dryven backe and fledde, and he him selfe manfully fyghtyngo in the mydell of his enemies was slaine and brought to his death as he worthely had deserved.”— HALL.