Imagens das páginas

Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'erpast; For I myself have many tears to wash

Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee.
The children live whose parents thou hast slaughter'd,
Ungovern'd youth, to wail it in their age:

The parents live whose children thou hast butcher'd,
Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast
Misused ere used, by times ill-used o'erpast.

K. Rich. As I intend to prosper and repent,
So thrive I in my dangerous attempt
Of hostile arins! 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 ray 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 your-
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 reconforture.

Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will?


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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 unresolved 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 Ratcliff, thyself,-or Catesby: where is he? [Norfolk !— Cate. Here, my good lord.

K. Rich. Catesby, fly to the duke.

Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither; post to Salisbury; When thou com'st thither,-[70 CATESBY.] Dull unmind

ful villain,

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K. Rich. My mind is changed.-Stanley, what news with you?

Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with the Nor none so bad but well may be reported. [hearing;

K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad! What need'st thou run so many miles about, When thou mayst 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 guess. K. Rich Well, as you guess?

Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, He takes for England, here to claim the crown.

K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'di 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, You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. Thou wilt revolt and fly to him, I fear.

Stan. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not. K. Rich. Where is thy power, then, to beat him back! Where be thy tenants and thy followers?

Are they not now upon the western shore,
Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships?

Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north K. Rich Cold friends to me: what do they in the north, When they should serve their sovereign in the west? Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king: Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave,

I'll muster up my friends, and meet your grace,
Where and what time your majesty shall please.
K. Rich. Ay, ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with
I will not trust you, Sir.

Stan. Most mighty sovereign,

You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful;
I never was, nor never will be false.


K. Rich. Well, go muster men. But, hear you, leave Your son, George Stanley; look your heart be firma, Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stan. So deal with him as I prove true to you.

Enter a Messenger.


Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, As I by friends ara well advertised, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate, Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,

With many more confederates, are in arms.

Enter another Messenger.

2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors

Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong.
Enter another Messenger.

3 Mess. My lord, the army of great BuckinghamK. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of death! [He strikes him. There, take thou that, till thou bring better news. 3 Mess. The news I have to tell your majesty Is, that by sudden floods and fall of waters, Buckingham's army is dispersed and scatter'd; And he himself wander'd away alone,

No man knows whither.

K. Rich. O, I cry you mercy:

There is my purse to cure that blow of thine.
Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd
Reward to him that brings the traitor in?

3 Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my liege. Enter another Messenger.

4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel and lord marquis Dorset, 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. But this good comfort bring I to your highness,The Bretagne navy is dispersed by tempest: Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks If they were his assistants, yea or no;

Who answer'd him they came from Buckingham
Upon his party: he, mistrusting them,

Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Bretagne.
K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up in
If not to fight with foreign enemies,

Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.



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SCENE V.-A Room in LORD STANLEY'S House. Enter STANLEY and Sir CHRISTOPHER CRSWICK. Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me;That, in the sty of this most bloody boar, My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold; If I revolt, off goes young George's head; The fear of that withholds my present aid But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?



Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha'rford-west, in Wales.
Stan. What men of name resort to him?
Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;
Sir Gilbert Talbot, Sir William Stanley;
Oxford, redoubted Pembroke, Sir James Blunt,
And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew;
And many other of great fame and worth:
And towards London do they bend their course,
If by the way they be not fought withal.

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord; commend me to him;
Tell him the queen hath heartily consented
He shall espouse Elizabeth her daughter.
These letters will resolve him of my mind.
Farewell. [Gives papers to Sir CHRISTOPHER



An open Place.


Enter the Sheriff and Guard, with BUCKINGHAM, led to

Buck. Will not king Richard let me speak with him?
Sher. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey,
Holy king Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried

By underhand corrupted foul injustice;
If that your moody discontented souls

Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction!--
This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?

Sher. It is, my lord.

Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsThis is the day which, in king Edward's time,

I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found

False to his children, or his wife's allies.

This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall

By the false faith of him whom most I trusted;
This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
Is the determined respite of my wrongs.
That high All-seer, which I dallied with,
Hath turn'd 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 their own points on their masters' bosoms:
Thus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck,-
"When he," quoth she, "shall split thy heart with sor-
Remember Margaret was a prophetess."-
Come, Sirs, convey me to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, &c.



Enter, with drum and colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD, Sir JAMES BLUNT, Sir WALTER HERBERT, and others, with forces, marching.

Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends, Bruised 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 isle,
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.

Ozf. 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. Blunt. He hath no friends but what are friends for Which in his dearest need will fly from him.


Richm. All for our vantage. Then, in God's name,

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings,
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.

SCENE III.-Bosworth Field.


Enter KING RICHARD and forces; the DUKE OF NORFOLK,
EARL OF SURREY, and others.

K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth
My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad?
Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.


K. Rich. My lord of Norfolk,
Nor. Here, most gracious liége.
K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha' must we
Nor. We must both give and take, my loving lord.
K. Rich. Up with my tent! here will I be to-night;
[Soldiers begin to set up the KING'S tent
But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that.--
Who hath descried the number of the traitors?
Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power
K. Rich. Why, our battalia trebles that account :
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength,
Which they upon the adverse faction want.--
Up with the tent!-Come, noble gentlemen,
Let us survey the vantage of the ground;-
Call for some men of sound direction :-
Let's want no discipline, make no delay;
For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day.


Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND, Sir WIL
LIAM 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 standard.--
Give me some ink and paper in my tent:
I'll draw the form and model of our battle,
Limit each leader to his several charge,
And part in just proportion our small power.—
My lord of Oxford,-you, Sir William Brandon,-
And you, Sir Walter Herbert,-stay with me..
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 some good 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,
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business: [gentlemen,
In to my tent, the air is raw and cold.

[They withdraw into the tent. Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK, 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.

K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.
Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

K. Rich. Ratcliff,

Rat. My lord?

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K. Rich. Send out a pursuivant at arms

To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
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.



Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.-
Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.


Rat. My lord?
K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northam-
Rat. Thomas the earl of Surrey, and himself,
Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop
Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.
K. Rich. I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine:
I have not that alacrity of spirit,

Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.-
So, set it down.-Is ink and paper ready?
Rat. It is, my lord.

K. Ruch. Bid my guard watch; leave me.
About the mid of night, come to my tent
And help to arm me.-Leave me, I say.
(KING RICHARD retires into his tent.


RICHMOND'S tent opens, and discovers him and his
officers, &c. Enter STANLEY.
Stan. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!
Kichm. All comfort that the dark night can afford
Be to thy person, noble father-in-law:
Tell me, how fares our loving mother?

Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother,
Who prays continually for Richmond's good;
So much for that.-The silent hours steal on,
And flaky darkness breaks within the east.
In brief, for so the season bids us be,
Prepare thy battle early in the morning,
And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
Of bloody strokes, and mortal-staring war.
1, as I may, (that which I would I cannot,)
With best advantage will deceive the time,
And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms:
But on thy side I may not be too forward,
Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George,
Be executed in his father's sight.
Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time
Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,
And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon:
God give us leisure for these rites of love!
Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well!

Richm. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment:
I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap,
Lest leaden slumber peize me down to-morrow,
When I should mount with wings of victory:
Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
[Exeunt Lords, dc., with STANI, BY.
O Thou, whose captain I account myself,
Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,
That they may crush down with a heavy fall
The usurping helmets of our adversaries!
Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise thee in thy victory!
To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still!


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The Ghosts of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN, rise. Gh. of Riv. (To KING R.] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow,

Rivers, that died at Pomfret! Despair, and die! Gh. of Grey. [TO KING R.] Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair!

Gh of Vaugh. [To KING R.] Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear

Let fall thy lance: despair, and die!—

All. [To RICHMOND.] Awake! and think our wrongs in Richard's bosoin

Will conquer him!-Awake, and win the day!

The Ghost of HASTINGS rises.

Ghost. [To KING R.] Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake, And in a bloody battle end thy days! Think on lord Hastings: despair, and die!

[To RICHMOND.] Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake! Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake.


The Ghosts of the two young PRINCES rise. Ghosts. Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower; Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard, And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death! Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair, and die!Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake in joy; Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy! Live, and beget a happy race of kings! Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish.

The Ghost of QUEEN ANNE rises.

Ghost. Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife, That never slept a quiet hour with thee, Now fills thy sleep with perturbations; To-morrow in the battle think on me,

And fall thy edgeless sword; despair, and die![TO RICHMOND.] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet Dream of success and happy victory: [sleep;

Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee.

The Ghost of BUCKINGHAM rises.

Ghost. [To KING R.] The first was I that help'd thee to the crown;

The last was I that felt thy tyranay:
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!-

[To RICHMOND.] I died for hope ere I could lend thee But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd: [aid: God and good angels fight on Richmond's side; And Richard falls in height of all his pride. [The Ghosts vanish. KING RICHARD starts i out of his dream.

K. Rich. Give me another horse-bind up my


Have mercy, Jesu!-Soft; I did but dream.—
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!-
The lights burn blue.-It is now dead midnight
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, do not flatter.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
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 used in each degree;
Trong 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:-
Nay, wherefore should they,-since that I mysel
Find in myself no pity to myself?

Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd
Came to my tent: and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.

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K. Rich. Who's there?

Rat. Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn;

Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.

K. Rich. O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful 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 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 KING RICHARD and RATCLIFF. Enter OXFORD and others.

Lords. Good morrow, Richmond. Richm. [Waking.] 'Cry mercy, lords, and watchful | That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. [gentlemen, 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?
Lords. Upon the stroke of four.

Richm. Why, then 'tis time to arm, and give direc-
[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,-
God and our good cause fight upon our 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 raised in blood, and one in blood establish'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 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 soldiers;

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;
If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors;
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 corse 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 cheerfully;
God and Saint George! Richmond and victory!

[Exeunt. Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants, and forces.

K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching

Rat. That he was never trained up in arms.
K. Rich. He said the truth: and what said Surrey
Rat. He smiled, and said, the better for our purpose.
K. Rich. He was i' the right; and so, indeed, it is.
[Clock strikes.

Tell the clock there.-Give me a calendar.-
Who saw the sun to-day?

Rat. Not I, my lord.

K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for, by the book,
He should have braved the east an hour ago:

A black day will it be to somebody.—

Rat. My lord?

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


Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge:
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devised 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 heaven, then hand in hand to hell.-
What shall I say more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assured destruction
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest;
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them, but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
Lash hence these over-weening rags of France,
These famish'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 conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretagnes; 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? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?-Hark, I hear their drum.
[Drum afar off

Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the fi ld.
K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle;-caparison my


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 foreward shall be drawn out all in length,
Consisting equally of horse and foot;
Our archers shall be placed in the midst:
John duke of Norfolk, Thomas earl of Surrey,
Ehall have the leading of this foot and horse.
They thus directed, we ourself will follow

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 Messenger.

In the main battle; whose puissance on either side
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. [Norfolk ?
This, and Saint George to boot!-What think'st thou,
Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign.
This found I on my tent this morning. [Giving a scrap.
K. Rich. [Reads] "Jocky of Norfolk, be not too boli,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold."
A thing devised by the enemy.—

What says lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come.

K. Rich. Off instantly with his son George's head!
Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh;
After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my
Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.



SCENE IV.-Another part of the Field.

Alarum: Excursions. Enter NORFOLK and forces; to

Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue!
The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger;
His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death;
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
Cate. Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse.
K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,

And I will stand the hazard of the die:

I think there be six Richmonds in the field;

Five have I slain to-day instead of him:

A borse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!: [Exeunt. Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD and RICHMOND; and exeunt fighting. Retreat and flourish. Then enter RICHMOND, STANLEY, bearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and forces.

Richm. God and your arms be praised, victorious The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.


Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty,


From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal;
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.
Richm. Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!-
But tell me first is young George Stanley living?
Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town
Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
Richm. What men of name are slain on either side!
Stan. John duke of Norfolk, Walter lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births.
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled,
That in submission will return to us;
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament
We will unite the white rose with the red:-

Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!-
What traitor hears me and says not, Amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself·
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire:
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division.-

O now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,

The true succeeders of each royal house,


By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs (God, if thy will be so)
Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord;
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's increase,
That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again;
That she may long live here, God say, Amen. [Exeunt

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I COME no more to make you laugh; things now
That bear a weighty and a serious row,
Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
We now present. Those that can pity, here
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear;
The subject will deserve it. Such as give
Their money out of hope they may believe,

May here find truth too. Those that come to see
Only a show or two, and so agree

The play may pass, if they be still and willing,
I'll undertake may see away their shilling

Richly in two short hours. Only they
That come to hear a merry bawdy play,
A noise of targets, or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat guarded with yellow,
Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know,
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting

Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring,
(To make that only true we now intend,)
Will leave us never an understanding friend.
Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known
The first and happiest hearers of the town,
Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see
The very persons of our noble story,

As they were living; think you see them great,
And follow'd with the general throng and sweat
Of thousand friends; then, in a moment, see
How soon this mightiness meets misery:
And, if you can be merry then, I'll say,
A man may weep upon his wedding day.

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Of what I saw there.

Buck. An untimely ague

Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber, when
Those suns of glory, those two lights of men,
Met in the vale of Arde.

Nor. 'Twixt Guynes and Arde:

I was then present, saw them salute on horseback;
Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung
In their embracement, as they grew together;
Which had they, what four throned ones could have
Such a compounded one?

Buck. All the whole time

I was my chamber's prisoner.

Nor. Then you lost


The view of earthly glory: men might say,
Till this time, pomp was single; but now married
To one above itself. Each following day
Became the next day's master, till the last
Made former wonders its: to-day the French,
All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods,
Shone down the English: and to-morrow they
Made Britain, India: every man that stood
Shew'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were
As cherubins, all gilt; the madams too,
Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear
The pride upon them, that their very labour
Was to them as a painting: now this mask
Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night
Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings,
Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst,
As presence did present them; him in eye,
Still him in praise: and, being present both.
'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner
Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns
(For so they phrase them) by their heralds challenged
The noble spirits to arms, they did perform

Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story.
Being now seen possible enough, got credit,
That Bevis was believed.

Buck. O, you go far.

All was royal:

Nor. As I belong to worship, and affect In honour honesty, the tract of everything Would by a good discourser lose some life, Which action's self was tongue to. To the disposing of it naught rebell'd, Order gave each thing view; the office did Distinctly his full function

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