ACT V SCENE III | Bosworth Field. | |
Enter KING RICHARD III and Forces; the DUKE OF NORFOLK,
EARL OF SURREY, and others.
|
KING RICHARD III | 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 III | My Lord of Norfolk,-- |
NORFOLK | Here, most gracious liege. |
KING RICHARD III | Norfolk, we must have knocks; ha! must we not? |
NORFOLK | We must both give and take, my gracious lord. |
KING RICHARD III | Up with my tent there! here will I lie tonight; |
KING RICHARD III | [ 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 foe? |
NORFOLK | Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. | 10 |
KING RICHARD III | Why, our battalia trebles that account: |
| Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, |
| Which they upon the adverse party want. |
| Up with my tent there! Valiant gentlemen, |
| Let us survey the vantage of the field |
| Call for some men of sound direction |
| Let's want 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, | 20 |
| And by the bright track of his fiery car, |
| Gives signal, 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 strength.
|
| 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 | 30 |
| And by the second hour in the morning |
| Desire the earl to see me in my tent: |
| Yet one thing more, good Blunt, before thou go'st, |
| Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, dost thou know? |
BLUNT | Unless I have mista'en his colours much, |
| Which well I am assured 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, bear my good-night to him, | 40 |
| And give him from me this most needful scroll. |
BLUNT | Upon my life, my lord, I'll under-take 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 our tent; the air is raw and cold. |
[ They withdraw into the tent. |
Enter, to his tent, KING RICHARD III, NORFOLK,
RATCLIFF, CATESBY, and others. |
KING RICHARD III | What is't o'clock? |
CATESBY | It's supper-time, my lord; |
| It's nine o'clock. |
KING RICHARD III | I will not sup to-night. |
| Give me some ink and paper. |
| What, is my beaver easier than it was? | 50 |
| And all my armour laid into my tent? |
CATESBY | If is, my liege; and all things are in readiness. |
KING RICHARD III | Good Norfolk, hie thee to thy charge; |
| Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. |
NORFOLK | I go, my lord. |
KING RICHARD III | Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk. |
NORFOLK | I warrant you, my lord. |
[ Exit. |
KING RICHARD III | Catesby! |
CATESBY | My lord? |
KING RICHARD III | Send out a pursuivant-at-arms. | 60 |
| To Stanley's reg'ment; 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 III | Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland? |
RATCLIFF | Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, | 70 |
| Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop |
| Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. |
KING RICHARD III | 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 III | 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, etc. |
STANLEY | Fortune and victory sit on thy helm! | 80 |
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 | 90 |
| 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 shock 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, | 100 |
| 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 all but RICHMOND. |
| O Thou, whose captain I account myself, |
| Look on my forces with a gracious eye; | 110 |
| 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 the 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 of Prince Edward | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! |
| Think, how thou stabb'dst me in my prime of youth | 120 |
| At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die! |
[To RICHMOND] |
| 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 of King Henry VI | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| 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, | 130 |
| Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish! |
The Ghost of CLARENCE rises. |
Ghost of CLARENCE | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! |
| I, that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, |
| Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed 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, GRAY, and VAUGHAN rise. |
Ghost of RIVERS | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow, | 140 |
| Rivers. that died at Pomfret! despair, and die! |
Ghost of GREY | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair! |
Ghost of VAUGHAN | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear, |
| Let fall thy lance: despair, and die! |
All | [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 of HASTINGS | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| 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! | 150 |
| Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! |
The Ghosts of the two young Princes rise. |
Ghosts of young Princes | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower: |
| Let us be led within thy bosom, Richard, |
| And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death! |
| Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair and die! |
[To RICHMOND] |
| 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 of LADY ANNE | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| 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 of BUCKINGHAM | [To KING RICHARD III] |
| The last was I that helped thee to the crown; |
| The last was I that felt thy tyranny: |
| O, in the battle think on Buckingham, | 170 |
| 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 angel fight on Richmond's side; |
| And Richard falls in height of all his pride. |
[The Ghosts vanish] |
[KING RICHARD III starts out of his dream] |
KING RICHARD III | Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. |
| Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft! I did but dream. |
| O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! | 180 |
| 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! | 190 |
| 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, stem murder, in the direst degree; |
| All several sins, all used in each degree, |
| Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! guilty! |
| I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; | 200 |
| And if I die, no soul shall pity me: |
| Nay, 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 III | 'Zounds! who is 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. | 210 |
KING RICHARD III | O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream! |
| What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true? |
RATCLIFF | No doubt, my lord. |
KING RICHARD III | O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear,-- |
RATCLIFF | Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. |
KING RICHARD III | By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night |
| Have struck 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, | 220 |
| To see if any mean to shrink from me. |
[ Exeunt. |
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: | 230 |
| I promise you, my soul 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. |
[His oration to his soldiers] |
| More than I have said, loving countrymen, |
| The leisure and enforcement of the time |
| Forbids to dwell upon: yet remember this, |
| God and our good cause fight upon our side; |
| The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls, | 240 |
| 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 raised 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; |
| Abase foul stone, made precious by the foil |
| Of England's chair, where he is falsely set; | 250 |
| 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, | 260 |
| 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 III | What said Northumberland as touching Richmond? | 270 |
RATCLIFF | That he was never trained up in arms. |
KING RICHARD III | He said the truth: and what said Surrey then? |
RATCLIFF | He smil'd and said 'The better for our purpose.' |
KING RICHARD III | 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 III | 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 III | The sun will not be seen to-day; | 280 |
| The sky doth frown and lour 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 III | 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 him a scroll. |
KING RICHARD III | [Reads] |
| 'Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold, |
| For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.' |
| A thing devised by the enemy. |
| Go, gentleman, 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 | 310 |
| 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 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. | 320 |
| And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, |
| Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost? |
| A milksop, 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 themselves: |
| 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 thump'd, |
| 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 yoemen! |
| 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? | 340 |
Messenger | My lord, he doth deny to come. |
KING RICHARD III | Off with his son George's head! |
NORFOLK | My lord, the enemy is past the marsh |
| After the battle let George Stanley die. |
KING RICHARD III | 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. |