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I dy'd for holpe, ere I could lend thee aid; (25)

[To Richm

But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd:
God and good angels fight on Richmond's fide,
And Richard fall in height of all his pride.

The Ghofts vanifn.

[K. Richard Starts out of his dream. K. Rich. Give me another horfe-bind up my wounds. Have mercy, Jefu-soft, I did but dream.

O coward confcience! how doft thou afflict me?
The lights burn blue-is it not dead midnight?
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
What? do I fear myfelf? there's none else by ;
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.

Is there a murd'rer here? no; yes, I am.
Then fly-what, from myfelf? great reafon; why?
Left I revenge. What? myfelf on myself?
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 villian; yet I lye, I am not.

Fool, of thyfelf speak well-Fool, do not flatter.
My confcience hath a thousand fev'ral tongues,
And ev'ry tongue brings in a fev'ral tale,
And ev'ry tale condemns me for a villain.
Perjury, perjury in high'ft degree,
Murder, itern murder in the dir'ft degree,
All feveral fins, all us'd in each degree,
Throng to the bar, all crying, guilty, guilty!
I thall defpair: there is no creature loves me;
And if I die, no foul fhall pity me.

Nay, wherefore thould they? fince that I myself

Find in myself no pity to myself.

(25) I dy'd for hope, ere I could lend thee aid,] All the editions concur in this reading, to the abfolute detriment of the fense. I reftore, with the addition of a single letter;

I dy'd for holpe, ere I could lend thee aid;

i. e. I perifh'd for that help, which I had intended and was preparing to lend thee; tho' I could not effentially give thee any affiftance.

Methought,

Methought, the fouls 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.

Rat. My Lord,

K. Rich. Who's there?

Rat. Ratcliff, my Lord. The early village cock
Hath twice done falutation to the morn;

Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.
K. Rich. Ratcliff, I fear, I fear-

Rat. Nay, good my Lord, be not afraid of fhadows. K. Rich. By the apole Paul, fhadows to-night Have ftruck more terror to the foul of Richard, Than can the fubftance of ten thousand foldiers Armed in proof, and led by fhallow Richmond. It is not yet near day. Come, go with me; Under our tents, I'll play the eaves-dropper; To hear, if any mean to fhrink from me.

[Exeunt K. Richard and Ratcliff.

Enter the Lords to Richmond, fitting in his Tent. Lords. Good-morrow, Richmond.

Richm. 'Cry mercy, Lords and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy fluggard here.

Lords. How have you flept, my Lord?

Richm. The fweetest fleep and faire ft-boding dreams, That ever enter'd in a drowsy head,

Have I fince your departure had, my Lords.

Methought, their fouls, whose bodies Richard murder'd,
Came to my tent, and cried on victory.

I promife you, my heart is very jocund,
In the remembrance of fo fair a dream.
How far into the morning is it, Lords?
Lords. Upon the ftroak of four.

Richm. Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.
More than I have faid, loving countrymen,
The leifure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell on; yet remember this,
God and our good caufe fight upon our fide,

N 4

The

The pray'rs of holy faints, and wronged fouls,
Like high-rear'd bulwarks, ftand before our faces.
Richard except, thofe, whom we fight againft,
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 flaughter'd thofe that were the means to help him.
A bafe foul ftone, made precious by the foil
Of England's chair, where he is falfely fet:
One, that hath ever been God's enemy;
Then if you fight against God's enemy,
God will in juftice ward you as his foldiers.
If you do fweat to put a tyrant down,
You fleep in peace, the tyrant being flain:
If you do fight against your country's foes,
Your country's fat fhall pay your pains the hire.
If you do fight in fafeguard of your wives,
Your wives fhall welcome home the conquerors.
If you do free your children from the fword,
Yourchildren's children quit it in your age.
Then, in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards; draw your willing fwords.
For me, the ranfom of my bold attempt

Shall be this cold corps on the earth's cold face :
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The leaft of you fhall fhare his part thereof.
Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly, chearfully,
God, and Saint George! Richmond, and victory!

Enter King Richard, Ratcliff and Catesby.

K. Rich. What faid Northumberland, as touching RichRat. That he was never trained up in arms. [mond? K. Rich. He faid the truth; and what faid Surrey then Rat. He fmil'd and faid, the better for our purpose. K. Rich. He was i'th' right, and fo, indeed, it is. Tell the clock there-give me a kalendar. [Clock frikes. Who faw the fun to-day?

Rat. Not I, my Lord.

K. Rick.

K. Rich. Then he difdains to fhine; for, by the book,
He should have brav'd the east an hour ago-
A black day it will be to fomebody, Ratcliff.
Rat. My Lord?

K. Rich. The fun will not be feen to-day;
The fky doth frown and lowre upon our army-
I would thefe dewy tears were from the ground-
Not fhine to-day? why, what is that to me
More than to Richmond? for the felf-fame heav'n,
That frowns on me, looks fadly upon him.

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Nor. Arm, arm, my Lord, the foe vaunts in the field. K. Rich. Come, buftle, buftle-caparison my horse. Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power; I will lead forth my foldiers to the plain,

And thus my battle fhall be ordered.

My forward fhall be drawn out all in length,
Confifting equally of horfe and foot:
Our archers fhall be placed in the midft;
John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of the foot and horse.
They thus directed, we ourfelf will follow
In the main battle, which on either fide
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse:

This and St. George to boot!--What think'ft thou, Norfolk?
Nor. A good direction, warlike Sovereign.

This paper found I on my tent this morning.

[Giving a fcroul

[Read

Jocky of Norfolk, be not fo bold,
For Dickon thy mafter is bought and fold.
K. Rich. A thing devifed by the enemy.
Go, gentlemen; go, each man to his charge.
Let not our babling dreams affright our fouls;
Confcience is but a word that cowards ufe,
Devis'd at first to keep the ftrong in awe :
Our strong arms be our confcience, fwords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to pell-mell,

If not to heav'n, then hand in hand to hell.

NS

What

What shall I fay more than I have inferr'd ?
Remember, whom you are to cope withal;
A fort of vagabonds, of rafcals, run-aways,
A fcum of Britons, and bafe lackey-peafants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To defperate adventures and deftruction.
You fleeping fafe, they bring you to unreft:
You having lands, and bleft with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, (26)
Long kept in Bretagne at his mother's coft?
A milk-fop, one that never in his life
Felt fo much cold, as over fhoes in fnow.
Let's whip thefe ftragglers o'er the feas again,
I fh hence thefe over-weening rags of France,
Thefe famifh'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 those bastard-Britons, whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd and thump'd;
And on record left them the heirs of fhame.

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!

(26) And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, Long kept in Britaine at our mother's coft?] This is fpoken by Richard, of Henry Earl of Richmond: but they were far from having any common mother, but England: and the Earl of Richmond was not fubfifted abroad at the nation's publick charge. He fled with the Earl of Pembroke into Bretagne in King Edward IVth's reign: And many artifices were tried both by that King firft, and King Richard afterwards, to get him deliver'd up by the French King and Duke of Bretagne. But he happily efcap'd all the fnares laid for him. During the greatest part of his refidence abroad, he was watch'd and reftrain'd almost like a captive; and fubfifted by fupplies convey'd from the Countess of Richmond, his mother. It feems probable therefore, that we must read;

Long kept in Bretagne at his mother's coft.

I publish'd this conjecture in the appendix to my SHAKESPEARE reftored; and Mr. Pope has thought fit to adopt it in his last edition of our poet.

Draw,

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