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Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me
More than to Richinond? for the selfsame heaven
That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.
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, 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 ? Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign. This found I on my tent this morning.
[He sheweth 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.
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 ;
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,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd them-
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
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; 340
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves !
314. inferr'd, declared.
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.
K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within
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.
SCENE IV. Another part of the field.
Alarum : excursions. Enter NORFOLK and
forces fighting; to him CATESBY.
Cate. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue,
The king enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring an opposite to every danger :
His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death.
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!
Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD. K. Rich. A 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, 2. enacts, performs.
And I will stand the hazard of the die :
I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
Five have I slain to-day instead of him.
A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse! Cheinaf
SCENE V. Another part of the field.
Alarum. Enter RICHARD and RICHMOND; they
fight. RICHARD is slain. Retreat and
flourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY bear-
ing the crown, with divers other Lords.
Richm. God and your arms be praised, vic-
The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.
Der. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou
Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal :
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.
Richm. Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!
But, tell me, is young George Stanley living ?
Der. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester
Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.
Richm. What men of name are slain on either
Der. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their
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, compellid, been butcher to the sire:
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division,
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
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 : 140x That she may long live here, God say amen!