| ACT V. | |
| SCENE III. Bosworth Field. | |
| [Enter KING RICHARD and Forces; the DUKE OF NORFOLK, the EARL of |
| SURREY, and others.] |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field.-- |
| My Lord of Surrey, why look you so sad? |
| SURREY. | |
| My heart is ten times lighter than my looks. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| My Lord of Norfolk,-- |
| NORFOLK. | |
| Here, most gracious liege. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not? |
| NORFOLK. | |
| We must both give and take, my loving lord. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Up With my tent! Here will I lie 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? |
| NORFOLK. | |
| Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| 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 lack 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, and other Lords. Some of the Soldiers pitch | |
| RICHMOND'S tent.] |
| RICHMOND. | |
| The weary sun hath made a golden set, |
| And by the bright tract 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. |
| RICHMOND. | |
| 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! |
| RICHMOND. | |
| Good night, good Captain Blunt.--Come, gentlemen, |
| Let us consult upon to-morrow's business: |
| 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.] |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| What is't o'clock? |
| CATESBY. | |
| It's supper-time, my lord; It's six o'clock. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| 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? |
| CATESBY. | |
| It is, my liege; and all things are in readiness. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; |
| Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. |
| NORFOLK. | |
| I go, my lord. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. |
| NORFOLK. | |
| I warrant you, my lord. |
| [Exit.] |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Ratcliff,-- |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| My lord? |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Send out a pursuivant-at-arms |
| To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power |
| Before sunrising, 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.-- |
| Ratcliff,-- |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| My lord? |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself, |
| Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop |
| Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| So, 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. |
| Set it down.--Is ink and paper ready? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| It is, my lord. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| 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. |
| [KING RICHARD retires into his tent. Exeunt RATCLIFF and |
| CATESBY.] |
| [RICHMOND's tent opens, and discovers him and his Officers, &c.] |
| STANLEY. | |
| Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! |
| RICHMOND. | |
| All comfort that the dark night can afford |
| Be to thy person, noble father-in-law! |
| Tell me, how fares our loving mother? |
| STANLEY. | |
| 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 stroke 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! |
| RICHMOND. | |
| 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, kind lords and gentlemen. |
| [Exeunt Lords, &c., with STANLEY.] |
| 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! |
| [Sleeps.] |
| [The Ghost of PRINCE EDWARD, son to HENRY THE SIXTH, rises |
| between the two tents.] |
| GHOST. | |
| [To KING RICHARD.] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! |
| Think how thou stabb'dst me in my 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 issue, Richmond, comforts thee. |
| [The Ghost of HENRY THE SIXTH rises.] |
| GHOST. | |
| [To KING 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! |
| [The Ghost of CLARENCE rises.] |
| GHOST. | |
| [To KING RICHARD.] Let me sit heavy in thy soul to-morrow! |
| I that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, |
| Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd 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! |
| [The Ghosts of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN rise.] |
| GHOST OF RIVERS. | |
| [To KING RICHARD.] Let me sit heavy in thy soul to-morrow, |
| Rivers that died at Pomfret! despair and die! |
| GHOST OF GREY. | |
| [To KING RICHARD.] Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair! |
| GHOST OF VAUGHAN. | |
| [To KING RICHARD.] Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear, |
| Let fall thy lance: despair and die!-- |
| ALL THREE. | |
| [To RICHMOND.] Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom |
| Will conquer him!--awake, and win the day! |
| [The GHOST of HASTINGS rises.] |
| GHOST. | |
| [To KING 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, awake! |
| Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! |
| [The Ghosts of the two young PRINCES rise.] |
| GHOSTS. | |
| Dream on thy cousins smothered 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 sleep; |
| Dream of success and happy victory: |
| Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee. |
| [The Ghost of BUCKINGHAM rises.] |
| GHOST. | |
| [To KING RICHARD.] The first was I that help'd 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. |
| [The GHOSTS vanish. KING RICHARD starts out of his dream.] |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| 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,-- |
| 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! |
| 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 us'd 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 will pity me: |
| And 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.] |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| My lord,-- |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Who's there? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| 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. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream!-- |
| What think'st thou,--will our friends prove all true? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| No doubt, my lord. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear,-- |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. |
| KING RICHARD | |
| By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night |
| Have stuck 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 see if any mean to shrink from me. |
| [Exeunt KING RICHARD and RATCLIFF.] |
| [RICHMOND wakes. Enter OXFORD and others.] |
| LORDS. | |
| Good morrow, Richmond! |
| RICHMOND. | |
| Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen, |
| That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here. |
| LORDS. | |
| How have you slept, my lord? |
| RICHMOND. | |
| 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. |
| RICHMOND. | |
| Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.-- |
| [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 rais'd 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 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 cheerfully; |
| God and Saint George! Richmond and victory! |
| [Exeunt.] |
| [Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants, and Forces.] |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| What said Northumberland as touching Richmond? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| That he was never trained up in arms. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| He said the truth; and what said Surrey then? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| He smil'd, and said, the better for our purpose. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| He was in the right; and so indeed it is. |
| [Clock strikes.] |
| Tell the clock there.--Give me a calendar.-- |
| Who saw the sun to-day? |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| Not I, my lord. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Then he disdains to shine; for by the book |
| He should have brav'd the east an hour ago: |
| A black day will it be to somebody.-- |
| Ratcliff,-- |
| RATCLIFF. | |
| My lord? |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| 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 selfsame heaven |
| That frowns on me looks sadly upon him. |
| [Enter NORFOLK.] |
| NORFOLK. | |
| Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse;-- |
| 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, |
| 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. |
| This, and Saint George to boot!--What think'st thou, |
| Norfolk? |
| NORFOLK. | |
| A good direction, warlike sovereign.-- |
| This found I on my tent this morning. |
| [Giving a scroll.] |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| [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, |
| Devis'd 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 Britagnes, and base lackey peasants, |
| Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth |
| To desperate adventures and assur'd destruction. |
| You sleeping safe, they bring to you 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 Britagne 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 conquered, let men conquer us, |
| And not these bastard Britagnes, 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.] |
| 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.] |
| What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power? |
| MESSENGER. | |
| My lord, he doth deny to come. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| Off with his son George's head! |
| NORFOLK. | |
| My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh: |
| After the battle let George Stanley die. |
| KING RICHARD. | |
| A thousand hearts are great within my bosom: |
| 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. |
| [Exeunt.] |