Obrázky stránek


Thus will I drown your exclamations.

Q. Eliz. True, when avoided grace makes destiny.
Duch. Art thou my son ?

My babes were destin'd to a fairer death,
K. Rich. Ay; I thank God, my father, and yourself. If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.
Duch. Then patiently bear my impatience.

K. Rich. You speak, as if that I had slain my

cousins. K. Rich. Madam, I have a touch of your condition, Q. Eliz. Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle cozen'd That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.
Duch. O! let me speak.

Whose hands soever lanc'd their tender hearts,
K. Rich.

Do, then; but I'll not hear. Thy head, all indirectly, gave direction :
Duch. I will be mild and gentle in my words. No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt,
K. Rich. And brief, good mother, for I am in haste. Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart,

Duch. Art thou so hasty? I once stay'd for thee, To revel in the entrails of my lambs.
God knows, in torment and in agony.

But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame,
K. Rich. And came I not at last to comfort you? My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys,

Duch. No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well; Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;
Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell. And I, in such a desperate bay of death,
A grievous burden was thy birth to me;

Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy:

Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.
Thy school-days, frightful, desperate, wild and furious; K. Rich. Madam, so thrive I in my enterprize,
Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and venturous : And dangerous success of bloody wars,
Thy age confirm’d, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody, As I intend more good to you and yours,
More mild, but yet more harmful, kind in hatred : Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd !
What comfortable hour canst thou name,

Q. Eliz. What good is cover'd with the face of heaven,
That ever grac'd me with thy company?

To be discover'd, that can do me good ? K. Rich. 'Faith, none, but Humphrey Hour, that K. Rich. Th’ advancement of your children, gentle callid your grace

lady. To break fast once forth of my company.

Q. Eliz. Up to some scaffold, there to lose their heads?
If I be so disgracious in your eye,

K. Rich. Unto the dignity and height of honour.
Let me march on, and not offend you, madam.- The high imperial type of this earth's glory.
Strike up the drum!

Q. Eliz. Flatter my sorrow with report of it:

I pr'ythee, hear me speak. Tell me, what state, what dignity, what honour,
K. Rich. You speak too bitterly.

Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

Hear me a word; K. Rich. Even all I have; ay, and myself and all,
For I shall never speak to thee again.

Will I withal endow a child of thine;
K. Rich. So.

So in the Lethe of thy angry soul
Duch. Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance, Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs,
Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;

Which, thou supposest, I have done to thee.
Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish,

Q. Eliz. Be brief, lest that the process of thy kindness
And never look upon thy face again.

Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.
Therefore, take with thee my most grievous curse; K. Rich. Then know, that from my soul I love thy
Which in the day of battle tire thee more,

Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st. Q. Eliz. My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.
My prayers on the adverse party fight;

K. Rich. What do


think? And there the little souls of Edward's children

Q. Eliz. That thou dost love my daughter from thy Whisper the spirits of thine enemies,

soul. And promise them success and victory.

So, from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers; Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end;

And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it. Shame serves thy life, and doth thy death attend. [Exit. K. Rich. Be not so hasty to confound my meaning. Q. Eliz. Though far more cause, yet much less spirit I mean, that with my soul 'I love thy daughter,

And do intend to make her queen of England. Abides in me: I say amen to her.

(Going. Q. Eliz. Well then, who dost thou mean shall be K. Rich. Stay, madam; I must talk a word with you.

her king ?
Q. Eliz. I have no more sons of the royal blood, K. Rich. Even he that makes her queen : who else
For thee to slaughter: for my daughters, Richard,

should be?
They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens; Q. Eliz. What! thou?
And therefore level not to hit their lives.

K. Rich. Even so: how think you of it?
K. Rich. You have a daughter callid Elizabeth, Q. Eliz. How canst thou woo her?
Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

K. Rich,

That I would learn of you,
Q. Eliz. And must she die for this? O! let her live, As one being best acquainted with her humour.
And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty;

Q. Eliz. And wilt thou learn of me?
Slander myself as false to Edward's bed;

K. Rich. Madam, with all my heart.
Throw over her the veil of infamy:

Q. Eliz. Send to her by the man that slew her
So she may live unscarr’d of bleeding slaughter,

I will confess she was not Edward's daughter. A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engraven

K. Rich. Wrong not her birth; she is a royal princess. Edward and York; then, haply, will she weep:
Q. Eliz. To save her life, I'll say she is not so. Therefore present to her,-as sometime Margaret
K. Rich. Her life is safest only in her birth. Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood,
Q. Eliz. And only in that safety died her brothers. A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain
K. Rich. Lo! at their birth good stars were opposite. The purple sap from her sweet brothers' body,
Q. Eliz. No, to their lives ill friends were contrary. And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.
K. Rich. All unavoided is the doom of destiny.

If this inducement move her not to love,

[ocr errors]

to curse

Send her a letter of thy noble deeds;

Q. Eliz. That at her hands, which the king's King Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,

forbids. Her uncle Rivers; ay, and, for her sake,

K. Rich. Say, she shall be a high and mighty queen. Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne. Q. Eliz. To wail the title, as her mother doth.

K. Rich. You mock me, madam : this is not the way K. Rich. Say, I will love her everlastingly.
To win your daughter.

Q. Eliz. But how long shall that title, ever, last?
Q. Eliz.
There is no other way,

K. Rich. Sweetly in force unto her fair life's end.
Unless thou couldst put on some other shape,

Q. Eliz. But how long fairly shall her sweet life last?
And not be Richard that hath done all this.

K. Rich. As long as heaven, and nature, lengthen it.
K. Rich. Say, that I did all this for love of her? Q. Eliz. As long as hell, and Richard, like of it.
Q. Eliz. Nay, then indeed, she cannot choose but K. Rich. Say, I, her sovereign, am her subject low.
hate thee,

Q. Eliz. But she, your subject, loaths such sovereignty.
Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

K. Rich. Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
K. Rich. Look, what is done cannot be now amended. Q.Eliz. An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told.
Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,

K. Rich. Then, plainly to her tell my loving tale.
Which after-hours give leisure to repent:

Q. Eliz. Plain, and not honest, is too harsh a

style. If I did take the kingdom from your sons,

K. Rich. Your reasons are too shallow and too quick. To make amends I'll give it to your daughter.

Q. Eliz. O! no, my reasons are too deep and dead;If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,

Too deep and dead, poor infants, in their graves. To quicken your increase, I will beget

K. Rich. Harp not on that string, madam; that is past. Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.

Q. Eliz. Harp on it still shall I, till heart-strings break. A grandam's name is little less in love,

K. Rich. Now, by my George, my garter, and my Than is the doting title of a mother:

crown, They are as children, but one step below,

Q. Eliz. Profan'd, dishonour'd, and the third usurp'd. Even of your mettle, of your very blood;

K. Rich. I swearOf all one pain, save for a night of groans

Q. Eliz.

By nothing; for this is no oath. Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow. Thy George, profan'd, hath lost its lordly honour; Your children were vexation to your youth;

Thy garter, blemish’d, pawn'd his knightly virtue; But mine shall be a comfort to your age.

Thy crown, usurp'd, disgrac'd his kingly glory.
The loss you have is but a son, being king,

If something thou would’st swear to be believ'd,
And by that loss your daughter is made queen: Swear then by something that thou hast not wrong'd.
I cannot make you what amends I would,

K. Rich. Now by the world,
Therefore, accept such kindness as I can.

Q. Eliz.

'Tis full of thy foul wrongs. Dorset, your son, that with a fearful soul

K. Rich. My father's death,Treads discontented steps in foreign soil,

Q. Eliz,

Thy life hath it dishonour'd. This fair alliance quickly shall call home

K. Rich. Then, by myself, To high promotions and great dignity:

Q. Eliz.

Thyself is self-mis-us'd.
The king, that calls your beauteous daughter wife, K. Rich. Why then, by God,-
Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;

Q. Eliz.

God's wrong is most of all. Again shall you be mother to a king,

If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath with him, And all the ruins of distressful times

The unity, the king my husband made, Repair'd with double riches of content.

Thou hadst not broken, nor my brothers died. What! we have many goodly days to see :

If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by him, The liquid drops of tears that you have shed, The imperial metal, circling now thy head, Shall come again transform'd to orient pearl,

Had grac'd the tender temples of my child; Advantaging their loan with interest

And both the princes had been breathing here, Of ten-times-double gain of happiness.

Which now, two tender bed-fellows for dust,
Go then, my mother; to thy daughter go:

Thy broken faith hath made the prey for worms.
Make bold her bashful years with your experience; What canst thou swear by now?
Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale;

K. Rich.

The time to come. | Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame

Q. Eliz. That thou hast wronged in the time o'erOf golden sov'reignty ; acquaint the princess

past; With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys:

For I myself have many tears to wash And when this arm of mine hath chastised

Hereafter time, for time past wrong'd by thee.
The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,

The children live whose fathers thou hast slaughter'd,
Bound with triumphant garlands will I come, Ungovern'd youth, to wail it with their age :
And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; The parents live, whose children thou hast butcher'd,
| To whom I will retail my conquest won,

Old barren plants, to wail it with their age.
And she shall be sole victress, Cæsar's Cæsar.

Swear not by time to come; for that thou hast Q. Eliz. What were I best to say? her father's brother Misus'd ere us'd, by times ill-us'd o'er-past. Would be her lord? Or shall I say, her uncle? K. Rich. As I intend to prosper, and repent, Or he that slew her brothers, and her uncles?

So thrive I in my dangerous attempt Under what title shall I woo for thee,

Of hostile arms! myself myself confound !
That God, the law, my honour, and her love,

Heaven and fortune bar me happy hours !
Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? Day, yield me not thy light, nor, night, thy rest!

K. Rich. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. Be opposite all planets of good luck
Q. Eliz. Which she shall purchase with still lasting To my proceeding, if, with pure heart's love,

Immaculate devotion, holy thoughts,
K. Rich. Tell her, the king, that may command, en- I tender not thy beauteous princely daughter !

In her consists my happiness and thine;


[ocr errors]


[ocr errors][ocr errors]

Without her, follows to myself, and thee,


Richmond is on the seas. Herself, the land, and many a Christian soul,

K. Rich. There let him sink, and be the seas on him, Death, desolation, ruin, and decay :

White-liver'd runagate! what doth he there? It cannot be avoided, but by this ;

Stan. I know not, mighty sovereign, but by guess. It will not be avoided, but by this.

K. Rich. Well, as you guess ? Therefore, dear mother, (I must call you so)

Stan. Stirr'd up by Dorset, Buckingham, and Morton, Be the attorney of my love to her.

He makes for England, here, to claim the crown. Plead what I will be, not what I have been ;

K. Rich. Is the chair empty? is the sword unsway'd ? Not my deserts, but what I will deserve :

Is the king dead ? the empire unpossess'd ? Urge the necessity of state and times,

What heir of York is there alive, but we,
And be not peevish fond in great designs.

And who is England's king, but great York's heir?
Q. Eliz, Shall I be tempted of the devil thus? Then, tell me, what makes he upon the seas?
K. Rich. Ay, if the devil tempt thee to do good. Stan. Unless for that, my liege, I cannot guess.
Q. Eliz. Shall I forget myself, to be myself?

K. Rich. Unless for that he comes to be your liege, K. Rich. Ay, if your self's remembrance wrong your- You cannot guess wherefore the Welshman comes. self.

Thou wilt revolt, and fly to him, I fear. Q. Eliz. Yet thou didst kill my children.

Stan. No, my good lord ; therefore, mistrust me not. K. Rich. But in your daughter's womb I'll bury K. Rich. Where is thy power, then, to beat him them :

Where, in that nest of spicery, they will breed Where be thy tenants, and thy followers ?
Selves of themselves, to your recomforture.

Are they not now upon the western shore,
Q. Eliz. Shall I go win my daughter to thy will ? Safe-conducting the rebels from their ships ?
K. Rich. And be a happy mother by the deed. Stan. No, my good lord, my friends are in the north.

Q. Eliz. I go.-Write to me, Richard, very shortly, K. Rich. Cold friends to me: What do they in the
And you shall understand from me her mind.

north, K. Rich. Bear her my true love's kiss, and so fare- When they should serve their sovereign in the west ?

well. [Kissing her. Exit Q. ELIZABETH. Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty king. Relenting fool, and

shallow, changing woman !- Pleaseth your majesty to give me leave, How now! what news?

I'll muster up my friends, and meet your grace,
Enter Ratcliff in haste ; Catesby following. Where, and what time, your majesty shall please.
Rat. Most mighty sovereign, on the western coast K. Rich. Ay, thou wouldst be gone to join with
Rideth a puissant navy: to our shores

Throng many doubtful hollow-hearted friends, But I'll not trust thee.
Unarm’d, and unresolv'd to beat them back,


Most mighty sovereign, 'Tis thought that Richmond is their admiral ; You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtful. And there they hull, expecting but the aid

I never was, nor never will be false. Of Buckingham to welcome them ashore.

K. Rich. Go, then, and muster men : but leave behind K. Rich. Some light-foot friend post to the duke of Your son, George Stanley. Look your heart be firm, Norfolk :

Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Ratcliff, thyself,—or Catesby; where is he?

Stan. So deal with him, as I prove true to you. Cate. Here, my good lord.

[Exit Stanley
K. Rich.
Catesby, fly to the duke.

Enter a Messenger.
Cate. I will, my lord, with all convenient haste. Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire,
K. Rich. Ratcliff, come hither. Post to Salisbury: As I by friends am well advertised,
When thou com’st thither,--Dull, unmindful villain, Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate,

[To Catesby. | Bishop of Exeter, his elder brother,
Why stay'st thou here, and go'st not to the duke? With many more confederates, are in arms.
Cate. First, mighty liege, tell me your highness'

Enter another Messenger. pleasure,

2 Mess. In Kent, my liege, the Guildfords are in What from your grace I shall deliver to him.

arms; K. Rich. O! true, good Catesby.--Bid him levy And every hour more competitors straight

Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong. The greatest strength and power he can make,

Enter a third Messenger. And meet me suddenly at Salisbury.

3 Mess. My lord, the army of great Buckingham-.

[Exit. K. Rich. Out on ye, owls! nothing but songs of Rat. What, may it please you, shall I do at Salis- death?

[He strikes him.

There, take thou that, till thou bring better news.
K. Rich. Why, what wouldst thou do there, before 3 Mess. The news I have to tell your majesty
I go?

Rat. Your highness told me, I should post before. Is that by sudden floods and fall of waters,

Buckingham's army is dispers’d and scatter'd ; K. Rich. My mind is chang'd.--Stanley, what news And he himself wander'd away alone, with you?

No man knows whither. Stan. None good, my liege, to please you with the K. Rich.

I cry thee mercy : hearing;

There is my purse, to cure that blow of thine. (Rising. Nor none so bad, but well may be reported.

Hath any well-advised friend proclaim'd K. Rich. Heyday, a riddle! neither good nor bad ? Reward to him that brings the traitor in ? What need'st thou run so many miles about,

3 Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my lord. When thou may'st tell thy tale the nearest way?

Enter a fourth Messenger. Once more, what news?

4 Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel, and lord

Marquess Dorset,

[ocr errors]

Cate. I go.



'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms;

SCENE V.-A Room in Lord Stanley's House.
But this good comfort bring I to your highness,-

Enter Stanley and Sir ChristOPHER URSWICK.
The Bretagne navy is dispers'd by tempest.
Richmond, in Dorsetshire, sent out a boat

Stan. Sir Christopher, tell Richmond this from me:-
Unto the shore, to ask those on the banks,

That, in the sty of the most bloody boar, If they were his assistants, yea, or no;

My son George Stanley is frank'd up in hold: Who answer'd him, they came from Buckingham If I revolt, off goes young George's head : Upon his party : he, mistrusting them,

The fear of that holds off my present aid. Hois'd sail, and made his course again for Bretagne. So, get thee gone: commend me to thy lord. K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up in Withal

, say that the queen hath heartily consented,

He should espouse Elizabeth her daughter. If not to fight with foreign enemies,

But, tell me, where is princely Richmond now?
Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.

Chris. At Pembroke, or at Ha’rford-west, in Wales.
Enter Catesby.

Stan. What men of name and mark resort to him?
Cate. My liege, the duke of Buckingham is Chris. Sir Walter Herbert, a renowned soldier;

Sir Gilbert Talbot, sir William Stanley;
That is the best news : that the earl of Richmond Oxford, redoubted Pembr sir James Blunt,
Is with a mighty power landed at Milford,

And Rice ap Thomas, with a valiant crew,
Is colder news, but yet they must be told.

And many other of great name and worth;
K. Rich. Away towards Salisbury! while we reason And towards London do they bend their power,

If by the way they be not fought withal.
A royal battle might be won and lost.-

Stan. Well, hie thee to thy lord; I kiss his hand :
Some one take order, Buckingham be brought My letter will resolve him of
To Salisbury; the rest march on with me. [Exeunt. Farewell. [Giving Papers to Sir Christopher. Exeunt.

my mind.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

SCENE I.-Salisbury. An open Place. Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny,
Enter the Sheriff, and Guard, with Buckingham, led

Thus far into the bowels of the land
to Execution.

Have we march'd on without impediment;
Buck. Will not king Richard let me speak with him? And here receive we from our father Stanley
Sher. No, my good lord; therefore, be patient.

(Showing a Paper.
Buck. Hastings, and Edward's children, Grey, and Lines of fair comfort and encouragement.

The reckless, bloody, and usurping boar,
Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,

That spoil'd your summer fields, and fruitful vines, Vaughan, and all that have miscarried

Swills your warm blood like wash, and makes his trough By underhand corrupted foul injustice,

In your embowellid bosoms, this foul swine If that your moody discontented souls

Is now even in the centre of this isle,

Near to the town of Leicester, as we learn :
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction !

From Tamworth thither, is but one day's march.
This is All-Souls' day, fellow, is it not?

In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends,
Sher. It is.

To reap the harvest of perpetual peace
Buck. Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's dooms- By this one bloody trial of sharp war.

Oxf. Every man's conscience is a thousand men, This is the day, which, in king Edward's time,

To fight against this guilty homicide. I wish'd might fall on me, when I was found

Herb. I doubt not, but his friends will turn to us. False to his children, or his wife's allies :

Blunt. He hath no friends, but what are friends for This is the day, wherein I wish'd to fall

fear, By the false faith of him whom most I trusted :

Which in his dearest need will fly from him. This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul

Richm. All for our vantage: then, in God's name, Is the determin'd respite of my wrongs.

march. That high All-Seer, which I dallied with,

True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings, Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head,

Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.

[Ereunt. Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men

SCENE III.-Bosworth Field. To turn their own points in their masters' bosoms.

Enter King RICHARD, and Forces; the Duke of NorThus Margaret's curse falls heavy on my neck :

FOLK, Earl of SURREY, and others. “When he," quoth she, “shall split thy heart with

K. Rich. Here pitch our tent, even here in Bosworth sorrow,

field. Remember Margaret was a prophetess.”Come, lead me, officers, to the block of shame;

My lord of Surrey, why look you so sad ? Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.

Sur. My heart is ten times lighter than my looks.
[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Officers.

K. Rich. My lord of Norfolk,-

Here, most gracious liege.
SCENE II.-A Plain pear Tamworth.

K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must
Enter, with Drum and Colours, RICHMOND, OXFORD,

we not?
Sir James Blunt, Sir Walter HERBERT, and others, Nor. We must both give and take, my loving lord.
with Forces, marching.

K. Rich. Up with my tent! here will I lie to-night;
Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most loving friends,

(Soldiers begin to set up the King's Tent.

[merged small][ocr errors]


[merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

Tell me,

But where to-morrow ?-Well, all's one for that.- Rat. My lord ?
Who hath descried the number of the traitors ?

K. Rich. Saw'st thou the melancholy lord Northum-
Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.

berland ?
K. Rich. Why, our battalia trebles that account: Rat. Thomas the earl of Surrey, and himself,
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop
Which they upon the adverse faction want.

Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.
Up with the tent!-Come, noble gentlemen,

K. Rich. So: I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of
Let us survey the vantage of the ground. -

wine :
Call for some men of sound direction.-

I have not that alacrity of spirit,
Let's lack no discipline, make no delay,

Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.-
For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. [Ereunt.

[Wine brought.
Enter, on the other side of the Field, Richmond, Sir Set it down.—Is ink and paper ready?

William BRANDON, OXFORD, and other Officers. Rat. It is, my lord.
Some of the Soldiers pitch Richmond's Tent.

K. Rich. Bid my guard watch. Leave me.
Richm. The weary sun hath made a golden set, Ratcliff, about the mid of night, come to my tent
And by the bright track of his fiery car,

And help to arm me.—Leave me, I say,
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. -

(King Richard retires into his Tent. Exeunt
Sir William Brandon, you shall bear my standard.—

RATCLIFF and CatesbY.
Give me some ink and paper in my tent:

Richmond's Tent opens, and discovers him and his
I'll draw the form and model of our battle,

Officers, 8c.
Limit each leader to his several charge,

And part in just proportion our small power.

Stan. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!
My lord of Oxford, -you, sir William Brandon,- Richm. All comfort that the dark night can afford,
And you, sir Walter Herbert, stay with me.

Be to thy person, noble father-in-law !
The earl of Pembroke keeps his regiment:


how fares our loving mother?
Good captain Blunt, bear my good night to him, Stan. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother,
And by the second hour in the morning

Who prays continually for Richmond's good :
Desire the earl to see me in my tent. —

So much for that.—The silent hours steal on,
Yet one thing more, good captain, do for me : And Aaky darkness breaks within the east.
Where is lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know? In brief, for so the season bids us be,

Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colours much, Prepare thy battle early in the morning;
(Which, well I am assur'd, I have not done)

And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
His regiment lies half a mile, at least,

Of bloody strokes, and mortal-staring war.
South from the mighty power of the king.

I, as I may, (that which I would I cannot)
Richm. If without peril it be possible,

With best advantage will deceive the time,
Sweet Blunt, make some good means to speak with And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms:

But on thy side I may not be too forward,
And give him from me this most needful note. Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George,

Blunt. Upon my life, my lord, I'll undertake it : Be executed in his father's sight.
And so, God give you quiet rest to-night.

Farewell. The leisure and the fearful time
Richm. Good night, good captain Blunt.—Come, Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,

And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business.

Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon.
In to my tent, the dew is raw and cold.

God give us leisure for these rites of love !
[They withdraw into the Tent. Once more, adieu.--Be valiant, and speed well !
Enter, to his Tent, King Richard, Norfolk, Ratcliff, Richm. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment.

I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap;
K. Rich. What is't o'clock ?

Lest leaden slumber peise ine down to-morrow,
Cate. It's supper time, my lord; it's nine o'clock. When I should mount with wings of victory.
K. Rich. I will not sup to-night.-

Once more, good night, kind lords, and gentlemen.
Give me some ink and paper.—.

(Exeunt Lords, Sc., with Stanley.
What, is my beaver easier than it was,

O! Thou, whose captain I account myself

, [Kneeling.

And all my armour laid into my tent?

Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are in readiness. Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,

K. Rich. Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge. That they may crush down with a heavy fall
Use careful watch ; choose trusty sentinels.

Th' usurping helmets of our adversaries !
Nor. I go, my lord.

Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
K. Rich. Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Nor- That we may praise thee in thy victory!


To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
Nor. I warrant you, my lord.

(Exit. Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
K. Rich. Ratcliff!

Sleeping, and waking, 0, defend me still!
Rat. My lord ?

[Lies down and sleeps.
K. Rich. Send out a pursuivant at arms The Ghost of Prince Edward, Son to Henry the Sixth,
To Stanley's regiment: bid him bring his power

rises between the two Tents.
Before sun-rising, lest his son George fall
Into the blind cave of eternal night.-

Ghost. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
Fill me a bowl of wine.—Give me a watch:

Think, how thou stab'dst me, in my prime of youth,
Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.-
Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.

At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die.
Ratcliff !-

Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls
Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf:



[To King Richard.

« PředchozíPokračovat »