Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD, NORFOLK, RATCLIFF, CATESBY, and others.

K. Rich. What is't o'clock?

Cate.

It's nine o'clock.

Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time

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?

50

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.

Enter DERBY to RICHMOND in his tent, Lords and others attending.

Der. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! Richm. All comfort that the dark night can afford

Be to thy person, noble father-in-law!
Tell how fares our loving mother?

me,

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.

ment:

101

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, kind lords 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 theé I do commend my watchful soul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still!

[Sleeps.

Enter the Ghost of PRINCE EDWARD, son to HENRY the Sixth.

Ghost. [To Richard] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!

Think, how thou stab'dst me in my prime of youth At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die! 120 [To Richmond] Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls

Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf:
King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee.

Enter the Ghost of HENRY the Sixth. Ghost. [To Richard] When I was mortal, my anointed body

By thee was punched full of deadly holes: Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die! Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die! [To Richmond] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror!

Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king, Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish! 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!

141

Ghest of V. [To Richard] Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear,

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;

250

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, 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. 270

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?

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.
Ratcliff!

280

Rat. My lord? K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day; The sky doth frown and lour 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 selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.

Enter NORFOLK.

Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.

K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse.

Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, 291
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,
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 thou, Norfolk?

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:
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.

310

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, 320
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.

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! 341

Enter a Messenger.

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.

20

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 and the red:
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long have 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,

30

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.

I COME no more to make you laugh: things now,
That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
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

10

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

21

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.

30

ACT I.