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Richard the Third (Quarto 1, 1597)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Adrian Kiernander
Peer Reviewed
Enter King Richard, Norffolke, Ratcliffe,
Catesbie, with others.
King. Here pitch our tentes, euen here in Bosworth field,
Whie, how now Catesbie, whie lookst thou so bad.
3435Cat, My hart is ten times lighter then my lookes.
King. Norffolke, come hether.
Norffolke, we must haue knockes, ha, must we not?
3440Norff. We must both giue, and take, my gracious Lord.
King. Vp with my tent there, here will I lie to night,
But where to morrow, well, all is one for that:
Who hath discried the number of the foe.
Norff. Sixe or seuen thousand is their vtmost number.
3445King. Whie our battalion trebles that account,
Besides, the Kings name is a tower of strength,
Which they vpon the aduerse partie want,
Vp with my tent there, valiant gentlemen,
Let vs suruey the vantage of the field,
3450Call for some men of sound direction,
Lets want no discipline, make no delaie,
For Lordes, to morrow is a busie day.
Exeunt.
Enter Richmond with the Lordes, &c.
3455Rich. The wearie sonne hath made a golden sete,
And by the bright tracke of his fierie Carre,
Giues signall of a goodlie day to morrow,
Where is Sir William Brandon, he shall beare my standerd,
3465The Earle of Pembroke keepe his regiment,
Good captaine Blunt, beare my good night to him,
And by the second houre in the morning,
Desire the Earle to see me in my tent.
Yet one thing more, good Blunt before thou goest:
3470Where is Lord Stanlie quarterd, doest thou know.
Blunt. Vnlesse I haue mistane his coulers much,
Which well I am assur'd, I haue not done,
His regiment, lies halfe a mile at least,
South from the mightie power of the king.
3475Rich. If without perill it be possible,
Good captaine Blunt beare my good night to him,
And giue him from me, this most needefull scrowle.
Blunt. Vpon my life my Lord, Ile vndertake it.
3480Rich. Farewell, good Blunt.
Giue me some inke, and paper, in my tent,
3460Ile drawe the forme, and modle of our battel,
Limit each leader to his seuerall charge,
And part in iust proportion our small strength,
Come, let vs consult vpon tomorrowes busines,
In to our tent, the aire is rawe and cold.
3485
Enter king Richard, Norff. Ratcliffe
Catesbie, &c.
K ng. What is a clocke.
Cat. It is sixe of clocke, full supper time.
King. I will not sup to night, giue me some inke and paper,
3490What? is my beuer easier then it was?,
And all my armour laid into my tent?
Cat, It is my Liege, and all thinges are in readines.
King. Good Norffolke, hie thee to thy charge,
Vse carefull watch, chuse trustie centinell.
3495Norff. I goe my Lord.
King. Stur with the Larke to morrow gentle Norffolke.
Nor. I warrant you my Lord.
King. Catesby.
Rat. My lord.
3500King. Send out a Pursiuant at armes
To Stanleys regiment, bid him bring his power
Before sun rising, least his sonne George fall
Into the blind caue of eternal night.
Fill me a bowle of wine, giue me a watch,
3505Saddle white Surrey for the field to morrow,
Looke that my staues be sound and not too heauy Ratliffe.
Rat. My lord.
King. Sawst thou the melancholie Lo. Northumberland?
Rat. Thomas the Earle of Surrey and himselfe,
3510Much about cockshut time, from troupe to troupe
Went through the army cheering vp the soldiors.
King. So I am satisfied, giue me a boule of wine,
I haue not that alacrity of spirit
Nor cheere of mind that I was wont to haue:
3515Set it down. Is inke and paper ready?
Rat. It is my lord.
King Bid my guard watch, leaue me.
Ratliffe about the mid of night come to my tent
And helpe to arme me: leaue me I say.
Exit . Ratliffe
3520
Enter Darby to Richmond in his tent.
Darby. Fortune and victorie set on thy helme.
Rich. All comfort that the darke night can afford,
Be to thy person noble father in law,
Tel me how fares our louing mother?
3525Dar. I by atturney blesse thee from thy mother,
Who praies continuallie for Richmonds good,
So much for that the silent houres steale on,
And flakie darkenesse breakes within the east,
In briefe, for so the season bids vs be:
3530Prepare thy battell earelie in the morning,
And put thy fortune to the arbitrement,
Of bloudie strokes and mortal staring war,
I as I may, that which I would, I cannot,
With best aduantage will deceiue the time,
3535And aide thee in this doubful shocke of armes,
But on thy side I may not be too forward,
Least being seene thy brother tender George
Be executed in his fathers sight.
Farewel, the leasure and the fearefull time,
3540Cuts off the ceremonious vowes of loue,
And ample enterchange of sweet discourse,
Which so long sundried friends should dwel vpon,
God giue vs leisure for these rights of loue,
Once more adiew, be valiant and speed well.
3545Rich. Good lords conduct him to his regiment:
Ile striue with troubled thoughts to take a nap,
Least leaden slumber peise me downe to morrow,
When I should mount with wings of victorie,
Once more good night kind Lords and gentlemen,
Exunt.
O thou whose Captaine I account my selfe,
Looke on my forces with a gracious eie:
Put in their hands thy brusing Irons of wrath,
That they may crush downe with a heauie fall,
3555The vsurping helmets of our aduersaries,
Make vs thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praise thee in the victorie,
To thee I do commend my watchfull soule,
Eare I let fal the windowes of mine eies,
3560Sleeping and waking, oh defend me still!
Enter the ghost of young Prince Edward, sonne
Harry the sixt, to Ri.
Ghost to Ri. Let me sit heauie on thy soule to morrow.
Thinke how thou stabst me in my prime of youth,
3565At Teukesburie, dispaire therefore and die.
To Rich. Be cheerful Richmond for the wronged soules
Of Butchered princes fight in thy behalfe,
King Henries issue Richmond comforts thee.
3570
Enter the ghost of Henry the sixt.
Ghost to Ri. When I was mortall my annointed body,
By thee was punched full of deadlie holes,
Thinke on the tower and me dispaire and die,
Harrie the sixt bids thee dispaire and die.
3575 To Rich. Vertuous and holie be thou conqueror,
Harrie that prophisied thou shouldst be king,
Doth comfort thee in thy sleepe liue and florish.
Enter the Goast of Clarence.
Ghost. Let me set heauie in thy soule to morrow,
3580I that was washt to death with fulsome wine,
Poore Clarence by thy guile betraid to death:
Tomorrow in the battaile thinke on me,
And fall thy edgeles sword, dispaire and die.
To Rich. Thou ofspring of the house of Lancester,
3585The wronged heires of Yorke do pray for thee,
Good angels guard thy battaile liue and florish.
Enter the ghosts of Riuers, Gray, Vaughan.
King Let me sit heauie in thy soule tomorrow,
Riuers that died at Pomfret, dispaire and die,
3590Gray. Thinke vpon Graie, and let thy soule dispaire.
Vaugh. Thinke vpon Vaughan, and with guiltie feare,
Let fall thy launce, dispaire and die.
All to Ri. Awake and thinke our wrongs in Richards bosome,
3595Wel conquer him, awake and win the daie.
Enter the ghosts of the two yong Princes.
Ghost to Ri. Dreame on thy Coosens smothered in the tower,
Let vs be lead within thy bosome Richard,
And weigh thee down to ruine, shame, and death,
Thy Nephewes soules bid thee dispaire and die.
To Rich. Sleepe Richmond sleepe, in peace and wake in ioy,
Good angels guard thee from the bores annoy,
Liue and beget a happie race of kings,
Edwards vnhappie sonnes do bid thee florish.
Enter the ghost of Hastings.
Ghost Bloudie and guiltie, guiltilie awake,
And in a bloudie battaile end thy daies,
Thinke on lord Hastings, dispaire and die.
3600 To Rich. Quiet vntroubled soule, awake, awake,
Arme, fight and conquer for faire Engiands sake.
Enter the ghost of Lady Anne his wife.
3615Richard thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife,
That neuer slept a quiet houre with thee,
Now fils thy sleepe with preturbations,
To morrow in the battaile thinke on me,
3620And fall thy edgeles sword despaire and die.
To Rich. Thou quiet soule, sleepe thou a quiet sleepe,
Dreame of successe and happie victorie,
Thy aduersaries wife doth praie for thee.
3625
Enter the Goast of Buckingham.
The first was I that helpt thee to the crown,
The last was I that felt thy tyrrannie,
O in the battaile thinke on Buckingham,
3630And die in terror of thy giltinesse,
Dreame on, dreame on, of bloudie deeds and death,
Fainting, despaire, desparing yeeld thy breath,
To Rich. I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid,
3635But cheare thy heart, and be thou not dismaid,
God and good angels fight on Richmons side,
And Richard fals in height of all his pride.
Richard starteth vp out of a dreame.
King Ri. Giue me another horse, bind vp my wounds,
3640Haue mercie Iesu: soft, I did but dreame,
O Coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me?
The lights burne blew, it is now dead midnight,
Cold fearefull drops stand on my trembling flesh,
What do I feare? my selfe? theres none else by,
3645Richard loues Richard, that is I and I,
Is there a murtherer here? no. Yes I am,
Then flie, what from my selfe? great reason whie?
Least I reuenge. What my selfe vpon my selfe?
Alacke I loue my selfe, wherefore? for anie good
3650That I my selfe haue done vnto my selfe:
O no, alas I rather hate my selfe,
For hatefull deedes committed by my selfe,
I am a villaine, yet I lie I am not,
Foole of thy selfe speake well, foole do not flatter,
3655My conscience hath a thousand seuerall tongues,
And euerie tongue brings in a seueral tale,
And euerie tale condemns me for a villaine,
Periurie, periurie, in the highest degree,
Murther, sterne murther, in the dyrest degree,
3660All seuerall sinnes, all vsde in each degree,
Throng to the barre, crying all guiltie, guiltie.
I shall dispaire, there is no creature loues me,
And if I die, no soule will pitie me:
And wherefore should they, since that I my selfe,
3665Finde in my selfe, no pitie to my selfe.
Me thought the soules of all that I had murtherd,
Came to my tent, and euery one did threat,
To morrows vengeance on the head of Richard.
Enter Ratcliffe.
3670Rat. My Lord.
King. Zoundes, who is there?
Rat. Ratcliffe, my Lord, tis I, the earlie village cocke,
Hath twise done salutation to the morne,
Your friendes are vp, and buckle on their armor.
3674.1King. O Ratcliffe, I haue dreamd a fearefull dreame,
What thinkst thou, will our friendes proue all true?
Rat. No doubt my Lord.
3675King. O Ratcliffe, I feare, I feare.
Rat. Nay good my Lord, be not afraid of shadowes.
King By the Apostle Paul, shadowes to night,
Haue stroke more terror to the soule of Richard,
Then can the substance of ten thousand souldiers,
3680Armed in proofe, and led by shallow Richmond.
Tis not yet neere day, come, go with me,
Vnder our tents Ile plaie the ease dropper,
To see if any meane to shrinke from me.
Exeunt.
3685
Enter the Lordes to Richmond.
Lo. Good morrow Richmond.
Rich. Crie mercie Lordes, and watchfull gentlemen,
That you haue tane a tardie sluggard here.
3690Lo. How haue you slept my Lord?
Rich. The sweetest sleepe, and fairest boding dreames,
That euer entred in a drowsie head,
Haue I since your depature had my Lordes,
3695Me thought their soules, whose bodies Richard murtherd,
Came to my tent, and cried on victorie,
I promise you, my soule is verie Iocund,
In the remembrance of so faire a dreame.
How farre into the morning is it Lordes?
3700Lo. Vpon the stroke of foure.
Rich. Whie, then tis time to arme, and giue direction.
His oration to his souldiers.
More then I haue said, louing countriemen,
The leasure and inforcement of the time,
3705Forbids to dwell vpon, yet remember this,
God, and our good cause, fight vpon our side,
The praiers of holy Saints and wronged soules,
Like high reard bulwarkes, stand before our faces,
Richard, except those whome we fight against,
3710Had rather haue vs winne, then him they follow:
For, what is he they follow? truelie gentlemen,
A bloudie tirant, and a homicide.
One raisd in bloud, and one in bloud established,
One that made meanes to come by what he hath,
3715And slaughtered those, that were the meanes to helpe him.
A base foule stone, made precious by the foile,
Of Englands chaire, where he is falsely set,
One that hath euer bene Gods enemie.
Then if you fight against Gods enemie,
3720God will In iustice, ward you as his souldiers,
If you doe sweate to put a tyrant downe,
You sleepe in peace, the tyrant being slaine,
If you doe fight against your countries foes,
Your countries fat, shall paie your paines the hire.
3725If you doe fight in safegard of your wiues,
Your wiues shall welcome home the conquerors.
If you doe free your children from the sword,
Your childrens children quits it in your age:
Then in the name of God and all these rightes,
3730Aduaunce your standards, drawe your willing swordes,
For me, the raunsome of my bold attempt,
shall be this could corps on the earths cold face:
But if I thriue, the gaine of my attempt,
The least of you, shall share his part thereof.
3735Sound drummes and trumpets boldlie, and cheerefullie,
God, and Saint George, Richmond, and victorie.
Enter King Richard, Rat. &c.
King. What said Northumberland, as touching Richmond.
Rat. That he was neuer trained vp in armes.
3740King He said the trueth, and what said Surrey then.
Rat. He smiled and said, the better for our purpose,
King. He was in the right, and so in deede it is:
Tell the clocke there.
The clocke striketh.
Giue me a calender, who saw the Sunne to day?
3745Rat. Not I my Lord.
King. Then he disdaines to shine, for by the booke,
He should haue braud the East an hower agoe,
A blacke day will it be to some bodie Rat.
Rat. My Lord.
3750King. The Sunne will nor be seene to day,
The skie doeth frowne, and lowre vpon our armie,
I would these dewie teares were from the ground,
Not shine to day: whie, what is that to me?
More then to Richmond, for the selfe-same heauen,
3755That frownes on me, lookes sadlie vpon him.
Enter Norffolke
Norff. Arme, arme, my Lord, the foe vaunts in the field.
King. Come, bustle, bustle, caparison my horse,
Call vp Lord Standlie, bid him bring his power,
3760I will leade forth, my souldiers to the plaine,
And thus my battaile shall be ordered.
My foreward shall be drawen out all in length,
Consisting equallie of horse and foote,
Our Archers shall be placed in the midst,
3765Iohn, Duke of Norffolke, Thomas Earle of Surrey,
shall haue the leading of this foote and horse,
They thus directed, we will follow,
In the matne battle, whose puissance on either side,
shall be well winged with our chiefest horse:
3770This, and Saint George to bootes what thinkst thou Norffolke?
Nor. A good direction warlike soueraigne,
he sheweth him
This found I on my tent this morning.
Iocky of Norfolke be not so bould,
3775 For Dickon thy master is bought and sould.
King A thing deuised by the enemie.
Go gentlemen euery man vnto his charge,
Let not our babling dreames affright our soules:
Conscience is but a word that cowards vse,
3780Deuisd at first to keepe the strong in awe,
Our strong armes be our conscience swords, our law.
March on, ioine brauelie, let vs to it pell mell,
If not to heauen then hand in hand to hell.
3783.1
His Oration to his army.
What shal I saie more then I haue inferd?
3785Remember whom you are to cope withall,
A sort of vagabonds, rascols and runawaies,
A scum of Brittains and base lacky pesants,
Whom their orecloied country vomits forth,
To desperate aduentures and assurd destruction,
3790You sleeping safe they bring to you vnrest,
You hauing lands and blest with beauteous wifes,
They would restraine the one, distaine the other,
And who doth lead them but a paltrey fellow,?
Long kept in Brittaine at our mothers cost,
3795A milkesopt, one that neuer in his life
Felt so much colde as ouer shooes in snow:
Lets whip these stragglers ore the seas againe,
Lash hence these ouerweening rags of France,
These famisht beggers wearie of their liues,
3800Who but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means poore rats had hangd themselues,
If we be conquered, let men conquer vs,
And not these bastard Brittains whom our fathers
Haue in their own land beaten bobd and thumpt,
3805And in record left them the heires of shame.
Shall these enioy our lands, lie with our wiues?
Rauish our daughters, harke I heare their drum,
Fight gentlemen of England, fight bold yeomen,
3810Draw archers draw your arrowes to the head,
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in bloud,
Amaze the welkin with your broken staues,
What saies lord Stanley, wil he bring his power?
3815Mes. My lord, he doth deny to come,
King Off with his sonne Georges head.
Nor. My lord, the enemie is past the marsh,
After the battaile let George Stanley die.
King A thousand harts are great within my bosome,
3820Aduance our standards, set vpon our foes,
Our ancient word of courage, faire saint George
Inspire vs with the spleene of fierie Dragons,
Vpon them victorie sits on our helmes.
Exeunt.