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Think how thou stabbidst me in the prime of Youth
At Tewksbury; despair therefore, and die.
Be cheerful, Richmond,
For the wronged Souls
Of butcher'd Princes fight in thy behalf:
King Henry's ifle, Richmond, comforts thee.
Enter the Ghost of Henry the Sixth. Ghost. When I was morial, my anointed Body,
[To K. Rich. By thee was punched full of holes; Think on th Tower, and me: Despair and die. Henry the Sixth b.ds thee despair, and die. Virtuous and holy, be thou Conqueror.
[To Richm. Harry, that prophesied thou sh uld it be King, Doth comfort thee i Necpile, ana A ur (h.
Enter the Ghost of Ciarence.
Ghost. Let me fit heavy on thy Sjul to morrow;
[T. K. Rich.
I that was walh'd to death in Full m Wine,
Poor Clarence, by thy guite betray'd to death:
To morrow in the Battel think on me,
And fall thy edgless Sword, dispur and die.
Thuu Off-ipig of the Huse of Lancaster, [To Richm.
The wronged Heirs of York do pray for thee,
Good Angels guard thy Battel, live and A urish.
Enter the Ghosts of Rivers, Gray, and Vaughan. Riv. Let me fit heavy on thy Soul to morrow,
[To K. Rich. Rivers, that dy'd at Pomfret: Despair, and die. Gray. Think upon Gray, and let thy Soul despair.
[T, K. Rich. Vaugh. Think upon Vaughan, and with guilly fear
LTO K. Rich, Let fall thy Launce, despair and die. All. Awake,
[To Richm. And think our wrongs in Richard's Balom Will conquer. Awake, and win the Day.
Enter the Ghojt of Lord Hastings. Ghost. Bloody and guilty; guilty awake, [To K. Rich. And in a bloody Bartel end thy Days, Think on Lord Hastings; despair and die.
Quiet untroubled Sou),
[T. Richm. Il Awak, awake: Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair Englad's sake.
Enter the Ghofts of the two young Princes.
Gnofts. Dream on thy Coufins
[To K. Rich. Smother'd in the Tower : -, Let us be laid within thy Bosom, Richard, [ And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death.
Thy Nephews Souls bid thee despair and die.
[To Richm. Sep in Peace, and wake in Joy, El Good Angels guard thee from the Bcar's annoy,
Live, and beget a happy race of Kings.
Edward's unhappy Sons do bid thee fourish.
Enter the Ghost of Anne his Wife.
Ghost. Richard, thy Wife,
[To K. Rich. 1
That wretchd Anne, thy Wife,
That never slepe a quiet Hour with thee,
Now fills thy seep with perturbations,
To morrow in the Battel thipk on me,
And fall thy edgless Sword, despair and die.
[To Richm. Sleep thou a quiet Sleep:
Dream of Success, and happy Vi&ory, bs Thy Adversaries Wife doth pray for thee.
Enter the Ghost of Buckingham. 1 Ghoft. The first was I,
[To K. Rich. That help'd thee to the Crown:
The last was I, that felt thy Tyranny. .
o, in the Battel think on Buckingham,
And die in terror of thy guiltiness,
Dream on, dream on, of bloody Deeds and Death,
Fainting d spair; despairing yield thy breath.
I dy'd for bope,
E' r I could lend thee aid;
But cher chy Heart, and be thou not dismay'd:
God, and good Angels fight on Richmond's fide,
And Richard falls in height of all his Pride. [The Ghosts vanish.
[K. Richard starts out of his Dream. K. Rich. Give me another Horfe, bind up my Wounds: Have mercy, Jeju-Soft, I did but dream.
O coward Conscience! how dost-thou afi& me?
The Lights buro blue — It is not dead Mid-night
Cold fearful Drops stand on my trembling Flesh :
What? do I fear my self? There's none else by,
Richard loves Richard, that is, I am I.
Is there a Murtherer here? No; Yes, I am:
Then fly? what from my felf? Grcat reason; why?
Lest I revenge. What? my self upon my self?
Alack, I love my self. Wherefore? For any good
That I my self have done upon my self?
Alas, I rather hate my felf,
For hateful Deeds committed by felf.
I am a Villain; yet I lie, I am not.
Fool, of thy felf 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, in the high'st degree,
Murther, stern Murther, in the dir's degree,
All several Sins, all us'd in each degree,
Throng all to th' Bar, crying a l, Guilty, guilty.
I shall despair, there is no Creature loves me;
And if I die, no Soul shall pity me.
Nay, wherefore should they? since that I my felf
Find in my self no pity to my self.
Methought, the Souls of all that I had murther'd
Came to my Tent, and every one did threat
To morrows Vengeance on the head of Richard.
Rat. My Lord.
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 Ratclif, 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 terrour to the Soul of Richard,
Than can the substance of ten thousand Soldiers
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
'Tis not yet near Day. Come, go with me,
Under our Tents; I'll play the Eaves-dropper,
To hear if any Man shrink from me.
[Exeunt K. Richard and Ratcliff,
Enter the Lords to Richmond fitting in his Tento
Lords. Good morrow, Richmond.
Richm. Cry you mercy, Lords, and watchful Gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy Sluggard here.
Lords. How have you Nept, my Lord ?
Richm. The sweetest Sleep,
And fairest boading Dreams,
That ever entred in a drowfie Head.
Have I since your departure had, my Lords.
Methought their Souls, whole Bodies Richard murther’d,
Came to my Tent, and cried on Vi&ory.
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 che stroak of four.
Richm. Why then 'tis time to Arm, and give direction.
More than I have said, loving Countrymer,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell upon; yet remember this,
God, and our good Cause, fight upon our fide,
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 establishd;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And Naughter'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 fét.
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.
do swear to put a Tyrant down,
You feep in Peace, the Tyrart being fain:
do fight against your Countries Foes,
Your Countries 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 Childrens Children quits 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 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, and chearfully,
God, and Saint George, Richmond, and Vi&ory.
Enter King Richard, Ratcliff, and Catesby.
K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching Riche
Rat. That he was never trained up in Arms.
K. Rich. He said the truth; and what said Surrey then.
Rat. He smild and said, the better for our purpose.
K. Rich. He was in the right, and so indeed it is.
Tell the Clock there.
strikes. Give me a Kılender who saw the Sun to day?
Rat. Nor I, my Lord.
K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for, by the Book,
He should have brav'd the East an hour ago —
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 lowre 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 Richmonds for the self-fame Heav'n
That frowns on me, looks fadly upon him.
Norf. Arm, arm, my Lord, the Foes vaunt in the Field.
K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle-Caparison my Horse.
Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his Power,