Swear then by something that thou hast not

wrong'd.

K. Rich. Now by the world,

Q. Eliz. 'Tis full of thy foul wrongs.

K. Rich. My father's death,—

Q. Eliz. Thy life hath that dishonour'd.

K. Rich. Then, by myself,—

Q. Eliz. Thyself is self-misus'd.

K. Rich. Why then, by God,

Q. Eliz. God's wrong is most of all.

If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,
The unity the king thy brother made
Had not been broken, nor my brother slain :
If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him,
The imperial metal circling now thy head,
Had grac'd the tender temples of my child;
And both the princes had been breathing
here,

Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,
Thy broken faith hath made a prey for worms.
What caust thou swear by now?

K. Rich. By the time to come.

Q. Eliz. That thou hast wrong'd in the time
o'erpast;

For I myself have many years to wash
Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee.
The children live, whose parents thou hast
slaughter'd,

Ungoveru'd youth, to wail it in their age:
The parents live, whose children

butcher'd,

thou hast

Old barren plants, to wail it with their age. Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast

Misus'd ere used, by times ill-us'd o'erpast.

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and re-
pent!

So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hostile arms! myself myself confound!
Heaven and fortune, bar me happy hours!
Day, yield me not thy light; nor night, thy

rest!

Be opposite all planets of good luck

To my proceeding, if with pure heart's love,
Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,

I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter!
In her consists my happiness and thine;
Without her follows to myself and thee,
Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,
Death, desolation, ruin, and decay :
It cannot be avoided but by this;
It will not be avoided but by this.
Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so,)
Be the attorney of my love to her,
Plead what I will be, not what I have been ;
Not my deserts, but what I will deserve:
Urge the necessity and state of times.
And be not peevish found in great designs,
Q. Eliz. Shall I be tempted of the devil
thus ?

K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do
good.

Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?
K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance
wrong yourself.

Q. Eliz. But thou didst kill my children.
K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I bury
them:

Where in that nest of spicery, † they shall
breed

Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.
Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy
will?

K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed.
Q. Eliz. I go.-Write to me very shortly,
And you shall understand from me her mind.
K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and
so farewell.

[Kissing her. Exit Q. ELIZABETH. Relenting fool, and shallow. changing wo

man!

Enter RATCLIFF; CATESBY following.
Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western

coast

Rideth a puissant navy; to the shore
Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends,
Unarm'd and unresolv'd to beat them back:
'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral;
And there they hull, expecting but the aid
Of Buckingham, to welcome them ashore.
K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the
duke of Norfolk :-

Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby; where is he?
Cate. Here, my good lord.

K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the duke.
Cute. I will, my lord, with all convenient
haste.

K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither; Post to Salis-
bury;

When thou com'st thither,-Dull, unmindful villain,

[To CATESBY.

Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke ?

Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your high-
ness' pleasure.

What from your grace I shall deliver to him.
K. Rich. O true, good Catesby;-Bid him
levy straight

The greatest strength and power he can make,
And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.
[Exit.

Cate. I go.

Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at
Salisbury ?

K. Rich. Why, what would'st thou do there
before I go?

Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before.

Enter STANLEY.

K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.-Stanley, what news with you?

Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with the hearing;

Nor none so bad, but well may be reported, neither good K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle !

nor bad!

What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way?

Once more what news?

Stan. Richmond is on the seas.

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas
on him!

White-liver'd runagate, what doth he there?
Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by

crown.

K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword
unsway'd!

Is the king dead? The empire unpossess'd?
What heir of York is there alive, but we?
And who is England's king, but great York's
heir ?

Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas ?
Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your
liege,
[comes.
You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman
Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear.
Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore distrust ine

Flock to the rebels, and their power grows These letters will resolve him of my mind.

I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found
This is the day, wherein 1 wish'd to fall
False to his children, or his wife's allies:
This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul,
By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;
That high All-seer which I dallied with,
Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.
Hath turned my feigned prayer on my head,
And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
To turn theis own points on their masters'
bosoms:
Margaret's
neck,-

When he, quoth she, shall split thy heart with sorrow,

Remember Margaret was a prophetess.Come, Sirs, convey me to the block of shame;

Wrong bath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, &C.

SCENE II.-Plain near Tamworth. Enter, with drum and colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD, Sir JAMES BLUNT, Sir WALTER HERBERT, and others, with forces, marching.

Enter, on the other side of the field, RICH-
MOND, Sir WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD,
and other Lords. Some of the soldiers pitch
RICHMOND's tent.

Richm. The weary sun hath made a golden
set,

And, by the bright track of his fiery car,
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.-
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my stan-
dard.

Give me some ink and paper in my tent;
I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
Limit cach leader to his several charge,
And part in just proportion our small power.
My lord of Oxford,-you, Sir William Bran-
don,-

Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving And you, Sir Walter Herbert, stay with me:

friends,

Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,

Thus far into the bowels of the land
Have we march'd on without impediment;
And here receive we from our father Stanley
Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.
The wretched, bloody, and usurping boar,
That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful

vines,

Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes
his trough

In your embowell'd bosoms, this foul swine
Lies now even in the centre of this is !e,
Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn:
From Tamworth thither, is but one day's

march.

In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends,
To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

Oxf. Every man's conscience is a thousand
swords,

To fight against that bloody homicide.

Herb. I doubt not, but his friends will turn

to us.

The earl of Pembroke keeps + his regiment ;-
Good captain Blunt, bear my good night to

him,

And by the second hour in the morning
Desire the earl to see me in my tent:-
Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me;
Where is lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know?
Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colours

much,

(Which well I am assur'd I have not done,)
His regiment lies half a mile at least
South from the mighty power of the king.
Richm. If without peril it be possible,
Sweet Blunt, make good some means to speak
with him,

And give him from me this most needful note.
Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake
it;

And so, God give you quiet rest to-night!
Richm. Good night, good captain Blunt.
Come, gentlemen,

In to my tent, the air is raw and cold.
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business;

[They withdraw into the Tent.

Enter, to his Tent, King RICHARD, NOB
FOLK, RATCLIFF, and CATESBY.

K. Rich. What is't o'clock !
Cate. It's supper time, my lord:
It's nine o'clock.

K. Rich. I will not sup to-night.
Give me some ink and paper.
What, is my beaver easier than it was?
And all my armour laid into my tent?

Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are in
readiness.

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy
charge;

Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels.
Nor. I go, my lord.

To

K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle

Norfolk.

Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

K. Rich. Ratcliff,

Rat. My lord ?

power

[Exit.

Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his
K. Rich. Send out a pursuivant at arms
Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall
Into the blind cave of eternal night.-
Fill me a bowl of wine.-Give me a watch; ‡-
[To CATESBY.
Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.-
Look that my staves be sound, and not too
heavy.

Ratcliff,

Rat. My lord?

K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord
Northumberland?

Rat. Thomas the earl of Surrey, and himself,
Much about cock-shut time, from troop to

Appoint. + Remains with. [Exeunt. A watch-light. Wood of the lances. Twilight,

K. Rich. I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of By thee was punched full of deadly holes : wine : Think on the Tower and me; Despair, and die; Harry the sixth bids thee despair and die.Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror ! [To RICHMOND Harry, that prophesy'd thou should'st be king, Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: Live and flourish!

RICHMOND'S Tent opens, and discovers him, I, that was wash'd to death with fulsome

The lights burn blue.-It is now dead night.

mid

Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What do I fear? myself? there's none else by:

Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.

Is there a murderer here? No -Yes; I am :
Then fly,-What, from myself? Great reason:
Why ?

Lest 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,

fatter.

do

not

My conscience hath a thousand several tougues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree;
Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree;
All several sins, all us'd in each degree;
Throng to the bar, crying all,-Guilty guilty!
I shall despair.-There is no creature loves

me;

And, if I die, no soul will pity me :

Richm. 'Cry mercy, lords, and watchful gen.
tlemen,

That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.
Lords. How have you slept, my lord?
Richm. The sweetest 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
murder'd,

Came to my tent, and cried-On! victory!
I promise you, my heart is very jocund
In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
How far into the morning is it, lords f
Lords. Upon the stroke of four.
Richm. Why, then 'tis time to arm, and give
direction.-
[He advances to the troops.
More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell on. Yet remember this,-
our good cause, fight upon our
God, and
side;

The prayers of holy saints, and wronged souls,
Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our
faces;

Richard except, those whom we fight against
Had rather have us win, than him they follow.
For what is he they follow? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant, and a homicide;

One rais'd in blood, and one in blood esta-
blish'd;

One that made mcans 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 falsely set;
One that hath ever been God's enemy:
Then, if you fight against God's enemy,
God will, in justice, ward you as his sol-
diers ;

If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat shall pay your pains the
hire;

Nay, wherefore should they? since that I my- If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,

self

Find in myself no pity to myself.
Methought, the souls of all tuat I had mur-
der'd

Came to my tent and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.

dream!

What thinkest thou? will our friends prove all true?

Rat. No doubt, my lord.

K. Rich. Ratcliff, I fear, I fear,

Rat. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.

K. Rich. By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight

Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard,
Than can the substance of ten thousand sol-
diers,

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 caves-dropper,
To hear, if any mean to shrink from me.

[Exeunt King RICHARD, and RATCLIFF. RICHMOND wakes. Enter OXFORD and others.

Lords. Good morrow, Richmond.

Your wives shall welcome home the con

querors;

If you do free your children from the sword,
Your children's children quit it in your age.
Then in the name of God, and all these
rights,

Advance your standards, draw your willing
swords.

For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse 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 and cheer.
God and Saint George! Richmond and victory!
fully:
[Exeunt.

Re-enter King RICHARD, RATCLIFF, atten-
dants, and Forces.

K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touch-
ing Richmond?

Rat. That he was never trained up in arms.
K. Rich. He said the truth: And what said
Surrey then?

Rat. He smil'd, and said the
purpose.

K. Rich. He was i'the right;

it is.

better for our

and so, indeed, [Clock strikes.

* Requite.