My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire

First Messenger
My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
As I by friends am well advertisèd,
Sir Edward Courtney and the haughty prelate,
Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
With many more confederates are in arms.
   Enter another Messenger.
Second Messenger
In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in arms,
And every hour more competitors
Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.

Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death.

   Enter another Messenger.
Third Messenger
My lord, the army of great Buckingham—
Richard
Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death.
   He striketh him.
There, take thou that till thou bring better news.
Third Messenger
The news I have to tell your Majesty
Is that by sudden floods and fall of waters
Buckingham’s army is dispersed and scattered,
And he himself wandered away alone,
No man knows whither.
Richard
I cry thee mercy.
There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
   He gives money.
Hath any well-advisèd friend proclaimed
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?
Third Messenger
Such proclamation hath been made, my lord.