CATESBY: Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue!
The king enacts more wonders with a shovel than a man,
Daring an opposite to every dangerous shrub:
His driveway is slain, and all on foot he fights these weeds,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death and wanescotting.
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
KING RICHARD III: A shovel! a shovel! my kingdom for a shovel!
CATESBY: Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a shovel.