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Rat. My lord, -
dream! What thinkest thou? will our friends prove all true ?
Rat. No doubt, my lord.
Ratcliff, I fear, I fear, Rat. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
K. Rich. By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
[Exeunt King Richard and Ratclif. RICHMOND wakes. Enter OXFORD and Others. Lords. Good morrow, Richmond.
Richm. 'Cry mercy, lords, and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.
Lords. How have you slept, my lord ?
Lords. Upon the stroke of four
[He advances to the troops.
A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
thereof. Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully; God, and saint Georges!! Richmond, and victory!
[Exeunt. Re-enter King RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants, and
Forces. K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching
Richmond ? Rat. That he was never trained up in arms. K. Rich. He said the truth : And what said Surrey
then ? Rat. He smild and said, the better for our purpose. K. Rich. He was i'the right; and so, indeed, it is.
Clock strikes. Tell the clock there.-Give me a calendar. Who saw the sun to-day?
Not I, my lord.
Rat. My lord ?
K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day ; 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 self-same heaven, That frowns on me, looks sadly upon him.
Enter NORFOLK. Nar. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the
field. K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle ;-Caparison my
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 ourself 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,
[Giving a scrowl. K. Rich. Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold, (reads.
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold. A thing devised by the enemy.Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge : Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls; Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devis'd 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; If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.
What shall I say more than I have infer'd ? Remember whom you are to cope withal ;A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and run-aways, A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate ventures and assur'd destruction. You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest; You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives, They would restrain the one, distain the other. And who doth lead them, but a paltry fellow, Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost ? A milk-sop, 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 over-weening rags of France,