K. Rich. Where is thy power, then, to beat him back? 480
Where are 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. [they in the north,
K. Rich. Cold friends to Richard: what do When they should serve their sovereign in the west? [sovereign: Stan. They have not been commanded, mighty Please it 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 Richmond: I will not trust you, sir. Stan. Most mighty sovereign, You have no cause to hold my friendship doubtI never was nor never will be false. [ful: K. Rich. Well,
Go muster men; but, hear you, leave behind Your son, George Stanley: look your faith be firm.
Or else his head's assurance is but frail. Stan. So deal with him as I prove true to you.
Mess. My gracious sovereign, now in Devonshire, 500
As I by friends am well advertised,
Sir Edward Courtney, and the haughty prelate Bishop of Exeter, his brother there, With many moe confederates, are in arms.
Enter another Messenger.
Sec. Mess. My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms;
And every hour more competitors Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth.
Enter another Messenger.
Third Mess. My lord, the army of the Duke of Buckingham
K. Rich. Out on you, owls! nothing but songs of death? [He striketh him. Take that, until thou bring me better news. 510 Third 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 I cry thee 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?
Third Mess. Such proclamation hath been made, my liege.
Fourth Mess. Sir Thomas Lovel and Lord Marquis Dorset, 520
'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. Yet this good comfort bring I to your grace, The Breton 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, Hoised sail, and made away for Brittany.
K. Rich. March on, march on, since we are up in arms;
If not to fight with foreign enemies, Yet to beat down these rebels here at home.
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 doomsday.
This is the day that, 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 I trusted most: This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul Is the determined respite of my wrongs: That high All-Seer that I dallied with Hath turn'd my feign'd 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: Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head; "When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart
Remember Margaret was a prophetess.' Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of
SCENE II. The camp near Tamworth.
Enter RICHMOND, OXFORD, BLUNT, HERBERT, and others, with drum and colors.
SCENE III. Bosworth Field. Enter KING RICHARD in arms, with NORFOLK, the EARL OF SURREY, and others.
K. Rich. Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field.
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 liege. K. Rich. Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not?
Nor. We must both give and take, my gracious lord.
K. Rich. Up with my tent there! here will I lie to-night;
But where to-morrow? Well, all's one for that. Who hath descried the number of the foe?
Nor. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power.
K. Rich. Why, our battalion trebles that ac
Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, Which they upon the adverse party want. Up with my tent there! Valiant gentlemen, Let us survey the vantage of the field; Call for some men of sound direction: Let's want no discipline, make no delay: For, lords, to-morrow is a busy day. [Exeunt.
Enter, on the other side of the field, RICHMOND, SIR WILLIAM BRANDON, OXFORD, aud others. Some of the Soldiers pitch Richmond's tent. Richm. The weary sun hath made a golden set,
Richm. Fellows in arms, and my most lov- And, by the bright track of his fiery car, ing 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 10 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.
Oxf. Every man's conscience is a thousand swords,
To fight against that bloody homicide.
Herb. I doubt not but his friends will fly to us. Blunt. He hath no friends but who are friends for fear,
Which in his greatest need will shrink from him. Richm. All for our vantage. Then, in God's name, march:
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings;
Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. [Exeunt.
Gives signal 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 strength. 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 Blunt, before thou go`st,
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, dost thou know? Blunt. Unless I have mista'en his colors much,
Which well I am assured 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, Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, And give him from me this most needful scroll. 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,
Let us consult upon to-morrow's business: In to our tent; the air is raw and cold.
[They withdraw into the tent
Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK, | Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time RATCLIFF, CATESBY, and others.
Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love And ample interchange of sweet discourse, Which so longsunder'd friends shoulddwell upon: It's supper-time, my lord: God give us leisure for these rites of love!
K. Rich. What is't o'clock ? Cate.
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 armor laid into my tent?
Cate. It is, my liege; and all things are in
K. Rich. Bid my guard watch; leave me. Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.
[Exeunt Ratcliff and the other Attendants.
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 peise me down to-morrow, When I should mount with wings of victory: Once more, good night, kindlords and gentlemen. [Exeunt all but Richmond.
O Thou, whose captain I account myself, Look on my forces with a gracious eye: Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath, 110 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 the 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!
Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king, Enter DERBY to RICHMOND in his tent, Lords Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish!
Be to thy person, noble father-in-law! Tell me, how fares our loving mother? Der. 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. I, 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.
Enter the Ghost of CLARENCE. Ghost. [To Richard] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! 131 I, that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death! To-morrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword: despair, and die!— [To Richmond Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster,
The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee: Good angels guard thy battle! live, and flourish!
Enter the Ghosts of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN.
Ghost of R. [To Richard] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow,
Rivers, that died at Pomfret! despair, and die! Ghost of G. [To Richard Think upon Grey,
and let thy soul despair!
Ghost of V. [To Richard] 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 bosom
Will conquer him! awake, and win the day! Enter the Ghost of HASTINGS.
To Richard] 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,
Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! Enter the Ghosts of the two young Princes. Ghosts. [To Richard] 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! [To Richmond] 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.
Enter the Ghost of LADY ANNE. Ghost. To Richard] 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 sleep;
Dream of success and happy victory! Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee.
Enter the Ghost of BUCKINGHAM. Ghost. [To Richard] The first was I that helped thee to the crown;
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! [To Richmond] I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid:
But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd; God and good angels fight on Richmond's side; And Richard falls in height of all his pride. King Richard starts [The Ghosts vanish. out of his dream. K. Rich. Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. 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:
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 direst degree; All several sins, all used 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 shall pity me: Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself 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. Enter RATCLIFF.
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 armor. 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.
O 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; 220 Under our tents I'll play the eavesdropper, To see if any mean to shrink from me. [Exeunt. Enter the Lords to RICHMOND, sitting in his tent. Lords. Good morrow, Richmond! 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 soul 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 direction.
His oration to his soldiers. More than I have said, loving countrymen, The leisure and enforcement of the time Forbids to dwell upon: yet remember this, God and our good cause fight upon our side: 240 The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls, 190 Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces
Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself? Alack, 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!
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; [lish'd; One raised in blood, and one in blood estab- 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 250 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, 261 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- fully:
God and Saint George! Richmond and victory! [Exeunt. Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants and Forces.
K. Rich. What said Northumberland as touching Richmond!
Rat. That he was never trained up in arms. K. Rich. He said the truth: and what said Surrey then?
Rat. He smiled and said, 'The better for our purpose.'
K. Rich. He was in the right; and so indeed it is. [Clock striketh. Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar. Who saw the sun to-day?
Not I, my lord. K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for by
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, Shall have the leading of this foot and horse. They thus directed, we will follow In the main battle, whose puissance on either side
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. 300 This, and Saint George to boot! What think'st
Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign. This found I on my tent this morning. [He showeth him a paper. K. Rich. [Reads] 'Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.' A thing devised by the enemy. 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: 310 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.
His oration to his army.
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 Bretons, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate ventures and assured destruction. You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest; 320 You having lands, and blest 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 overweening rags of France, These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives; Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, 330 For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd them- selves:
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us, And not these bastard Bretons; whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And in record, left them the heirs of shame. Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives? Ravish our daughters? [Drum afar off.
Hark! I hear their drum. [men! Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeo Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! 341
What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come. K. Rich. Off with his son George's head! Nor. My lord, the enemy is past the marsh: After the battle let George Stanley die.
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