3579Ghost. Let me sit heauy in thy soule to morrow.

3580I that was wash'd to death with Fulsome Wine:

3581Poore Clarence by thy guile betray'd to death:

3582To morrow in the battell thinke on me,

3583And fall thy edgelesse Sword, dispaire and dye.

3584 To Richm. Thou off-spring of the house of Lancaster

3585The wronged heyres of Yorke do pray for thee,

3586Good Angels guard thy battell, Liue and Flourish.

3588Riu Let me sit heauy in thy soule to morrow,

3589Riuers, that dy'de at Pomfret: dispaire, and dye.

3590Grey. Thinke vpon Grey, and let thy soule dispaire.

3591Vaugh. Thinke vpon Vaughan, and with guilty feare

3592Let fall thy Lance, dispaire and dye.

3593 All to Richm. Awake,

3594And thinke our wrongs in Richards Bosome,

3595Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day.

3597Gho. Bloody and guilty: guiltily awake,

3598And in a bloody Battell end thy dayes.

3599Thinke on Lord Hastings: dispaire, and dye.

3600 Hast. to Rich. Quiet vntroubled soule,

3601Awake, awake:

3602Arme, fight, and conquer, for faire Englands sake.

3604Ghosts. Dreame on thy Cousins

3605Smothered in the Tower:

3606Let vs be laid within thy bosome Richard,

3607And weigh thee downe to ruine, shame, and death,

3608Thy Nephewes soule bids thee dispaire and dye.

3609 Ghosts to Richm. Sleepe Richmond,

3610Sleepe in Peace, and wake in Ioy,

3611Good Angels guard thee from the Boares annoy,

3612Liue, and beget a happy race of Kings,

3613Edwards vnhappy Sonnes, do bid thee flourish.

3615 Ghost to Rich. Richard, thy Wife,

3616That wretched Anne thy Wife,

3617That neuer slept a quiet houre with thee,

3618Now filles thy sleepe with perturbations,

3619To morrow in the Battaile, thinke on me,

3620And fall thy edgelesse Sword, dispaire and dye:

3621 Ghost to Richm. Thou quiet soule,

3622Sleepe thou a quiet sleepe:

3623Dreame of Successe, and Happy Victory,

3624Thy Aduersaries Wife doth pray for thee.

3626Ghost to Rich. The first was I

3627That help'd thee to the Crowne:

3628That last was I that felt thy Tyranny.

3629O, in the Battaile think on Buckingham,

3630And dye in terror of thy guiltinesse.

3631Dreame on, dreame on, of bloody deeds and death,

3632Fainting dispaire; dispairing yeeld thy breath.

3633 Ghost to Richm. I dyed for hope

3634Ere I could lend thee Ayde;

3635But cheere thy heart, and be thou not dismayde:

3636God, and good Angels fight on Richmonds side,

3637And Richard fall in height of all his pride.

3639 Rich. Giue me another Horse, bind vp my Wounds:

3640Haue mercy Iesu. Soft, I did but dreame.

3641O coward Conscience! how dost thou afflict me?

3642The Lights burne blew. It is not dead midnight.

3643Cold fearefull drops stand on my trembling flesh.

3644What? do I feare my Selfe? There's none else by,

3645Richard loues Richard, that is, I am I.

3646Is there a Murtherer heere? No; Yes, I am:

3647Then flye; What from my Selfe? Great reason: why?

3648Lest I Reuenge. What? my Selfe vpon my Selfe?

3649Alacke, I loue my Selfe. Wherefore? For any good

3650That I my Selfe, haue done vnto my Selfe?

3651O no. Alas, I rather hate my Selfe,

3652For hatefull Deeds committed by my Selfe.

3653I am a Vlllaine: yet I Lye, I am not.

3654Foole, of thy Selfe speake well: Foole, do not flatter.

3655My Conscience hath a thousand seuerall Tongues,

3656And euery Tongue brings in a seuerall Tale,

3657And euerie Tale condemnes me for a Villaine;

3658Periurie, in the high'st Degree,

3659Murther, sterne murther, in the dyr'st degree,

3660All seuerall sinnes, all vs'd in each degree,

3661Throng all to'th'Barre, crying all, Guilty, Guilty.

3662I shall dispaire, there is no Creature loues me;

3663And if I die, no soule shall pittie me.

3664Nay, wherefore should they? Since that I my Selfe,

3665Finde in my Selfe, no pittie to my Selfe.

3666Me thought, the Soules of all that I had murther'd

3667Came to my Tent, and euery one did threat

3668To morrowes vengeance on the head of Richard.

3670Rat. My Lord.

3671King Who's there?

3672Rat. Ratcliffe my Lord, 'tis I: the early Village Cock

3673Hath twice done salutation to the Morne,

3674Your Friends are vp, and buckle on their Armour.

3675King. O Ratcliffe, I feare, I feare.

3676Rat. Nay good my Lord, be not affraid of Shadows.

3677King. By the Apostle Paul, shadowes to night

3678Haue stroke more terror to the soule of Richard,

3679Then can the substance of ten thousand Souldiers

3680Armed in proofe, and led by shallow Richmond.

3681'Tis not yet neere day. Come go with me,

3682Vnder our Tents Ile play the Ease-dropper,

3683To heare if any meane to shrinke from me.

3687Richm. Good morrow Richmond.

3688Rich. Cry mercy Lords, and watchfull Gentlemen,

3689That you haue tane a tardie sluggard heere?

3690Lords. How haue you slept my Lord?

3691Rich. The sweetest sleepe,

3692And fairest boading Dreames,

3693That euer entred in a drowsie head,

3694Haue I since your departure had my Lords.

3695Me thought their Soules, whose bodies Rich. murther'd,

3696Came to my Tent, and cried on Victory:

3697I promise you my Heart is very iocond,

3698In the remembrance of so faire a dreame,

3699How farre into the Morning is it Lords?

3700Lor. Vpon the stroke of foure.

3701Rich. Why then 'tis time to Arme, and giue direction.

3703More then I haue said, louing Countrymen,

3704The leysure and inforcement of the time

3705Forbids to dwell vpon: yet remember this,