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Rich. Come, there looks life in such a cheerful
haste, If dreams should animate a soul resolvid, I'm more than pleas'd with those I've had to-night: Methought that all the ghosts of them, whose bodies Richard murder'd, came mourning to my tent, And rous'd me to revenge them. Sir W. Brand. A good omen, sir.-[Trumpets sound
a distant March.] Hark! the trumpet of The enemy! it speaks them on the march. Rich. Why, ihen, let's on, my friends, to face
them; In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man, As mild behaviour and humility: But, when the blast of war blows in our ears, Let us be tigers in our fierce deportment: For me, the ransom of
bold attempt Shall be this body on the earth's cold face; But, if we thrive, the glory of the action The meanest here shall share his part of. Advance your standards, draw your willing swords; Sound drums, and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully. The word's St. George, Richmond, and victory.
Enter NORFOLK, with a Paper.
Glost. Come, bustle, bustle ! caparison my horse ; Call forth Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power; Myself will lead the soldiers to the plain.
[Erit CATESBY. Well, Norfolk, what think'st thou now?
Nor. That we shall conquer-but on my tent,
Glost. (Reads.] Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
Catesby. He does refuse, my lord-- he will not stir.
Nor. My lord, the foe's already past the marsh-
Glost. Why, after be it then.
Richard calls !
Richmond, I say, come forth, and singly face me!
Enter CATESBY and Norrolk, in disorder.
Enter GLOSTER and RATCLIFF.
Glost. Slave! I have set my life upon a cast,
Glost. Thy gallant bearing, Harry, I could 'plaud,
Glost. My soul and body on the action, both !
[They fight--RICHARD falls. Glost. Perdition catch thy arm !--the chance is
with KING RICHARD's Crown.
Offi. My lord, the queen, and fair Elizabeth, Her beauteous daughter, some few miles off, Are on their way, to 'gratulate your victory,
Rich. Ay, there indeed my toil's rewarded ! Let us prepare to meet them, lords—and then, As we're already bound by solemn vows, We'll twine the roses red and white together, And both from one kind stalk shall flourish: England has long been mad, and scar'd herself; The brother blindly shed the brother's blood; The father rashly slaughter'd his own son ; The bloody son, compelld has kill'd his sire. Oh, now, let Henry and Elizabeth, The true successors of each royal house, Conjoin'd together, heal these deadly wounds! And be that wretch' of all mankind abhorr'd, That would reduce those bloody days again; Ne'er let him live to taste our joys' increase, That would with treason wound fair England's peace!