Who faw the fun to-day?
Rat. Not I, my Lord.
K. Rich. Then he disdains to fhine; for by the book,
He fhould have brav'd the east an hour ago
A black day it will be to fome body. Ratcliff!
Rat. My Lord?
K. Rich. The fun will not be seen to-day;
The sky doth frown and lowre upon our army-
I would these dewy tears were from the ground
Not fhine to-day? why, what is that to me
More than to Richmond? for the self-fame heav'n
That frowns on me, looks fadly upon him.
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 battel fhall be ordered.
My 'foreward battel fhall be drawn in length,
Confifting equally of horse 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 our felf will follow
In the main battel, which on either fide
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse:
This and Saint George to boot. What think'ft thou, Norfolk?
Nor. A good direction, warlike Sovereign.
This paper found I on my tent this morning.
Jocky of Norfolk, be not fo bold,
For Dickfon thy mafter is bought and fold.
K. Rich. A thing devised 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 use,
Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe.
Our strong arms be our confcience, fwords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to't pell mell,
If not to heav'n, then hand in hand to hell.
What fhall I fay more than I have inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal,
A fort of vagabonds, rafcals, run-aways,
A fcum of Britons, and bafe lackey-peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth
To defperate adventures and destruction.
You fleeping fafe, they bring you to unrest:
You having lands, and bleft with beauteous wives,
They would 'diftrain the one, diftain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in "Bretagne at his mother's cost?
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,
Lafh hence thefe over-weening rags of France,
Thefe 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 thofe baftard-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? lye with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?hark, I hear their drum:
Fight, gentlemen of England; fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head:
Spur you proud horfes hard, and ride in blood:
Amaze the welkin with your broken ftaves!
Enter a Meffenger.
What fays Lord Stanley, will he bring his power?
Mef. My Lord, he doth deny to come.
K. Rich. "'Off inftantly with his fon George's head.
Nor. My Lord, the enemy is past the marsh;
After the battel let George Stanley die.
K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom, Advance our standards, fet upon our foes;
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
Infpire us with the fpleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory fits on our helms.
Alarum. Excurfions. Enter Catesby.
Catef.R Efcue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue :
The King enacts more wonders than a man,
Daring, an oppofite to every danger:
His horfe is flain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death,
Rescue, fair Lord, or else the day is loft.
Alarum. Enter King Richard.
K. Rich. A horfe! a horfe! my kingdom for a horse! Catef. Withdraw, my Lord, I'll help you to a horfe. K. Rich. Slave, I have fet my life upon a caft, And I will stand the hazard of the dye: I think there be fix Richmonds in the field, Five have I flain to-day inftead of him. A horfe! a horfe! my kingdom for a horfe!
Alarums. Enter King Richard and Richmond; they fight, Richard is flain.
Retreat, and Flourish. Enter Richmond, Stanley bearing the Crown, with divers other Lords.
Richm. God and your arms be prais'd, victorious
The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.
Stan. Couragious Richmond, well haft thou acquit Lo, here thefe long ufurped royalties,
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluckt off, to grace thy brows withal.
Wear it, enjoy it, and make use of it.
Richm. Great God of heaven, fay Amen to all!
But tell me firft, is young George Stanley living?
Stan. He is, my Lord, and fafe in Leicester town;
Whither, if you so please, we may withdraw us.
Richm. What men of note are flain on either fide? Stan. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter the Lord Ferris, Sir Robert Brakenbury, Sir William Brandon.
Richm. Interr their bodies as becomes their births.
Proclaim a pardon to the foldiers fled,
That in fubmiffion will return to us.
And then, as we have ta'en the facrament,
We will unite the White Rofe and the Red.
Smile heav'n upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and fays not Amen?
England hath long been mad, and fcarr'd her felf;
The brother blindly fhed the brother's blood,
The father rafhly flaughter'd his own fon,
The fons, compell'd, been butchers to the fire: a
O now let Richmond and Elizabeth
(a) butchers to the fire:
All this divided York and Lancaßer,
Divided in their dire divifion.
O now let, &c.
The true fucceeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs (God, if thy will be fo)
Enrich the time to come with fmooth-fac'd peace,
With fmiling plenty, and fair profp'rous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in ftreams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's encrease,
That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives agen:
That she may long live here, God fay, Amen! [Exeunt.
|