A base foul stone, made precious by the foil1
Of England's chair, where he is falsely set;
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,
Your children's children quit it in your age.2
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. 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 smil'd and said, the better for our purpose.

K. Rich. He was i' the right; and so, indeed, it is.

Tell the clock there.-Give me a calendar.—
Who saw the sun to-day?

Rat. Not I, my lord.

[Clock strikes.

K. Rich. 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,

Rat. My lord?

K. Kich.

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.

(1) Made precious by the foil. The foil is the leaf (feuille) or thin plate of metal in which the stone is set.

(2) Quit it in your age, i. e. requite it when you are old.

Enter NORFOLK.

Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.

K. Rich. 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 forward 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 the 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 boot1-What think'st thou, Norfolk?

Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign.

This found I on my tent this morning.

[Giving a scroll.

K. Rich. [Reads.] "Jocky of Norfolk, be not so bold,

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;
For conscience is 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 inferr'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;—
A sort of vagabonds,2 rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'ercloyed 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 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;

(1) This, and St. George to boot, i. e. This is the order of battle, and may St. George boot it (help it).

(2) A sort of vagabonds, i. e. a lot, an assortment of vagabond?

FF

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 Bretagnes, whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And, on record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? Hark, I hear their drum.
[Drum afur off.

Fight, gentlemen of England! fight boldly, yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! 1

Enter a Messenger.

1

What says lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come.

K. Rich. Off with his son George's head!
Nor. My lord, the enemy is past the marsh;2
After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within
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.

my

SCENE IV.-Another part of the Field.

bosom:

[Exeunt.

Alarum: Excursions. Enter NORFOLK, and Forces; to him

CATESBY.

Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue!

The king enacts more wonders than a man,

Daring an opposite to every danger;

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,

Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death:
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!
Cate. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse.

(1) Amaze the welkin with your broken staves! i. e. fright the sky with the shivers of your lances.

(2) Is past the marsh. There was a large morass in the midst of Bosworth field. Richmond passed it, and took such a position with respect to the sun, &c., that he was enabled by this means, in great measure, to get the victory.

K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard of the die :
I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
Five have I slain to-day, instead of him :

A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

[Exeunt.

Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD and RICHMOND; they fight; RICHARD is slain.

Retreat and flourish. Then enter RICHMOND, STANLEY bearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces.

Richm. God, and your arms, be prais'd, victorious friends; The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee! Lo, here, these long-usurped royalties,

From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal;
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Richm. Great God of heaven, say, amen, to all!
But tell me, is young George Stanley living?

Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town;
Whither, if you please, we may withdraw us.

Richm. What men of name are slain on either side?
Stan. John duke of Norfolk, Walter lord Ferrers,
Sir Robert Brakenbury, and sir William Brandon.
Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births.
Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled,
That in submission will return to us;
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose and the red;
Smile Heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and says not amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son;
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire:
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided, in their dire division.

O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs (God, if thy will be so)
Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace,
With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,

That would reduce1 these bloody days again,

And make poor England weep in streams of blood!
Let them not live to taste this land's increase,

That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!
Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again;
That she may long live here, God say-Amen!

[Exeunt.

(1) Reduce, i. e. bring back.

END OF RICHARD III.