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The last was I that felt thy tyranny.
O in the battle think on Buckingham,
And die in terror of thy guiltiness.
Dream on, dream on of bloody deeds and death;
Fainting, despair; despairing yield thy breath.
-I dy'd for hope ere I could lend ihee aid;

[To Richm.
But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd:
God and good angels fight on Richmond's fide,
And Richard fall in height of all his pride.

[The Ghosts vanish. [K. Richard starts out of his dream. K. Rich. Give me another horse-bind up my

woundsHavề mercy Jefu.– Soft, I did but dream. O coward Conscience, how dost thou afflict me? The lights burn bluem-is it not dead midnight? Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling filem. What? do I fear myself? there's none elle by; Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. Is there a murd'rer here? no-yes, I am. Then fly-what, from myself? Great reason; why? Left I revenge. What? myself on myself? I love myself. Wherefore, for any good That I myself have done unto myself? O, no. Alas, I rather hate myself, For hateful deeds committed by myself. I am a villain ; yet I lie, I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well-Fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And ev'ry tongue brings in a several tale, And ev'ry tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury in high'st degree, Murder, stern murder in the dir's degree, All several sins, all usd in each degree, Throng to the bar, all crying, guilty! guilty ! I Mall despair—there is no creature loves me; And if I die, no soul shall pity me.. Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself. Methought the fouls of all that I had murder'd Game to my tent, and every one did threat To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.

Enter Ratcliff.
Rat. My Lord,
K. Rich. Who's there !

Rat. Ratcliff, my Lord. The early village-cock
Hath twice done falutation to the morn;
Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.

K. Rich Ratcliff, I fear, I fear
Rat. Nay, good my Lord, be not afraid of sha-

dows.
K. Rich. By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard,
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
It is not yet near day: come, go with me;
Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper,
To hear if any mean to shrink from me.

[Exeunt K. Richard and Ratcliff.

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S CE N E 'Enter the Lords to Richmond, sitting in his tent. Lords. Good morrow, Richmond.

Rich. 'Cry mercy, lords, and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.

Lords. How have you slept, my Lord ?

Rich. The sweeten sleep and fairest-boding dreams That ever enter'd in a drowsy head, Have I since your departure had, my Lords. Methought their souls, whose bodies Richard murCaine to my tent, and cry'd-On! Victory! [der'd, I promise you my heart is very jocund In the remembrance of so fair a dream. How far into the morning is it, Lords?

Lords. Upon the stroke of four.

Rich. Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direcMore than I have said, loving countrymen, [tion. The leisure and enforcement of the rime Forbids to dwell on; yet remember this, God and our good cause figlit upon our side, The pray’rs of holy fainis and wronged souls, Like high-rear'd bulwarks, ftand before our faces.

Richard except, those whom we fight against,
Had rather have us win than him they folloiv.
For what is he they follow ? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant, and a homicide,
One rais'd'in blood, and one in blood establilli'd;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him.
A base foul stone, made precious by the foil *
Of England's chair, where he is faliely fet;
One that hath ever been God's enemy;
Then if you fight against God's enemy,
God will in jultice 'ward you as his foldiers.
if

you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
You Neep in peace, the tyrant being slain :
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat lhall pay your pains the hire :
If you do fight in fafeguard of your wives,
Your wives Thall welcome home the conquerors :
If you do free your children from the sword,
Your childrens' children quit it in your age:
Then, in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards; draw your willing fwords.
For me, the ransom of

my

bold attempt,
Shall be this cold corps on the earth's cold face :
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly, chearfully;
God and St George! Richmond, and victory!

S CE N E VII.
Enter King Richard, Ratcliff, and Catesby.
X. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching

Richmond ? Rat. That he was né:er trained up in arins. K. Rich He said the truth ; and what said Surrey

then ? Rat. He imild and said, the better for our purpose. K. Rich. He was i'ch' righi, and so indeed it is.

The leaf (fereille) or thin plate of metal in which the stone is set. jur. njoilo

-Tell the clock there--[Clock strikes.]-Give me a

kalendar. Who saw the fun to-day? · Rat. Not I, my Lord.

K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for, by the He should have brav'd the east an hour ago. [book, A black day it will be to some body. Ratcliff.

Rat. My Lord ?

K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day; The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. I would these dewy tears were from the ground. -Not thine to-day? Why, what is that to me More than to Richmond ? for the self-fame, heaven That frowns on me, looks fadly upon himn.

Enter Norfolk. Nor. Arm, arm, my Lord, the foe vaunts in the field.

K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle, -caparison my horse.
-Call up Lord Stanley ; bid him bring his power ;
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
And thus my battle shall be ordered:
My forward shall be drawn out all in length,
Consisting equally of horle and foot ;
Our archers shall be placed in the midst;
John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of the foot and horse.
They thus directed, we ourself will follow
In the main battle, which on either side
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.
This, and St George to boot !-What think'st thou,

Norfolk ?
Nor. A good direction, warlike Sovereign.
-This
paper found I on my tent this morning.

[Giving a scroll. Focky of Norfolk, be not so bold,

[Reads. For Dickor thy master is bought and sold. K. Rich. A thing devised by the enemy. -Go, gentlemen ; go, each man to his charge.. Let not our babbling dreams afright our fouls. Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Vol. VI.

I i

Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe :
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law..
March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell,
If not to heav'n, then hand in hand to hell.
What shall I fay more than I have inferrd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;
A sort of vagabonds, of rascals, runaways ;
A scum of Britons, and base lackey-peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate adventures and destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest:
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives,.
They would distrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fello:v,
Long kept in-Bretagne at his mother's cost?
A milk-lop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow.
Let's whip thele stragglers o'er the seas again,
Lalh hence these over-weening rags of France,
Thele familli'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves.
If we be conquerd, let men conquer us,
And not those bastard Britons, whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb’d and thump'd;
And on record left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? ly with our wives?
Ravish our daughters? Hark, I hear their drum.

[Drum afar off. Fight, gentlemen of England; fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head; Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood, Amaze the welkin with your broken staves !..

Enter a Merenger. What fays Lord Stanley, will he bring his power?

Mell. My Lord, he doth deny to come. K. Řich. 'Off with his fon George's head. Nor. My Lord, the enemy hath past the marsh; After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my. Adrance our standards, set upon our foes ; [bosom.

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