« PreviousContinue »
Rat. Not I, my lord.
A'. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for, by the
He should have brav'd the east an hour ago:
Rat. My lord?
K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day;
The sky doth frown and lour upon our army.
Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.
K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle;—Caparison my
Call up lord Stanley, bid him bring his power :—
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.
[Giving a scrowl.
K. Rich. Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold, [reads.
for Dickon thy master is bought and sold. A thing devised by the enemy.— Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge i 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 infer'd? Remember whom you are to cope withal;— A sort of vagabonds, rascals. and run-aways, A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate ventures and assur'd destruction. You sleeping safe, they bring you to 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, lx>ng 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 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 conquer'd, let men conquer us,
And not these bastard Bretagnes; 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!
Enter a Messenger.
What says lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come.
K. Rich. Off instantly with his son George's head.
Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh; After the battle let George Stanley die.
K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my
Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
Another Part of the Field.
Alarum. Excursions. Enter Norfolk, and forces; to him Catesby.
Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The king enac1s more wonders than a man, Daring an opposite to every danger; His horse is slain, and all on foot he rights, Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death: Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
Alarum. Enter King Richard.
K. Rich.31A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
Cate. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse.
K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die: I think, there be six Richmonds in the field; Five have 1 slain to-day, instead of him:— A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! [Exeunt.
Alarums. Entir King Richard and Richmond; and exeunt jighting. Retreat, and fiourish. Then enter Richmond, Stanley, bearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces.
Richm. God, and your arms, be prais'd, victorious
friends; The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty,
Richm. Great God of heaven, say, amen, to all!— But, tell me first, is young George Stanley living?
Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town; Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
Rickm. What men of name are slain on either side?
Stan. John duke of Norfolk, Walter lord Ferrers, Sir Robert Brakenbury, and sir William Brandon.
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births. 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 hath 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 division33.— 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 they will be so,)