The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: t1r - Histories, p. 201

Left Column


The Life and Death of Richard the Third. Let's lacke no Discipline, make no delay, For Lords, to morrow is a busie day. Exeunt Enter Richmond, Sir William Brandon, Ox­ ford, and Dorset. Richm.
[3275]
The weary Sunne, hath made a Golden set, And by the bright Tract of his fiery Carre, Giues token of a goodly day to morrow. Sir William Brandon, you shall beare my Standard: Giue me some Inke and Paper in my Tent:
[3280]
Ile draw the Forme and Modell of our Battaile, Limit each Leader to his seuerall Charge, And part in iust proportion our small Power. My Lord of Oxford, you Sir William Brandon, And your Sir Walter Herbert stay with me:
[3285]
The Earle of Pembroke keepes his Regiment; Good Captaine Blunt, beare my goodnight to him, And by the second houre in the Morning, Desire the Earle to see me in my Tent: Yet one thing more (good Captaine) do for me:
[3290]
Where is Lord Stanley quarter'd, do you know ?
Blunt. Vnlesse I haue mistane his Colours much, (Which well I am assur'd I haue not done) His Regiment lies halfe a Mile at least South, from the mighty Power of the King. Richm.
[3295]
If without perill it be possible, Sweet Blunt, make some good meanes to speak with him And giue him from me, this most needfull Note.
Blunt. Vpon my life, my Lord, Ile vndertake it, And so God giue you quiet rest to night. Richm.
[3300]
Good night good Captaine Blunt: Come Gentlemen, Let vs consult vpon to morrowes Businesse; Into my Tent, the Dew is rawe and cold.
They withdraw into the Tent. Enter Richard, Ratcliffe, Norfolke, & Catesby. Rich. What is't a Clocke? Cat.
[3305]
It's Supper time my Lord, it's nine a clocke.
King. I will not sup to night, Giue me some Inke and Paper: What, is my Beauer easier then it was ? And all my Armour laid into my Tent? Cat.
[3310]
It is my Liege: and all things are in readinesse.
Rich. Good Norfolke, hye thee to thy charge, Vse carefull Watch, choose trusty Centinels, Nor. I go my Lord. Rich. Stir with the Larke to morrow, gentle Norfolk. Nor.
[3315]
I warrant you my Lord.
Exit Rich. Ratcliffe. Rat. My Lord. Rich. Send out a Pursuiuiant at Armes To Stanleys Regiment: bid him bring his power
[3320]
Before Sun‑rising, least his Sonne George fall Into the blinde Caue of eternall night. Fill me a Bowle of Wine: Giue me a Watch, Saddle white Surrey for the Field to morrow: Look that my Staues be sound, & not too heauy. Ratcliff.
Rat.
[3325]
My Lord.
Rich. Saw'st the melancholly Lord Northumberland? Rat. Thomas the Earle of Surrey, and himselfe, Much about Cockshut time, from Troope to Troope Went through the Army, chearing vp the Souldiers. King.
[3330]
So, I am satisfied: Giue me a Bowle of Wine, I haue not that Alacrity of Spirit,

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Right Column


Nor cheere of Minde that I was wont to haue. Set it downe. Is Inke and Paper ready? Rat. It is my Lord. Rich.
[3335]
Bid my Guard watch. Leaue me. Ratcliffe, about the mid of night come to my Tent And helpe to arme me. Leaue me I say.
Exit Ratclif. Enter Derby to Richmond in his Tent. Der. Fortune, and Victory sit on thy Helme. Rich. All comfort that the darke night can affoord,
[3340]
Be to thy Person, Noble Father in Law. Tell me, how fares our Noble Mother?
Der. I by Attourney, blesse thee from thy Mother, Who prayes continually for Richmonds good: So much for that. The silent houres steale on,
[3345]
And flakie darkenesse breakes within the East. In breefe, for so the season bids vs be, Prepare thy Battell early in the Morning, And put thy Fortune to th'Arbitrement Of bloody stroakes, and mortall staring Warre:
[3350]
I, as I may, that which I would, I cannot, With best aduantage will deceiue the time, And ayde thee in this doubtfull shocke of Armes. But on thy side I may not be too forward, Least being seene, thy Brother, tender George
[3355]
Be executed in his Fathers sight. Farewell: the leysure, and the fearfull time Cuts off the ceremonious Vowes of Loue, And ample enterchange of sweet Discourse, Which so long sundred Friends should dwell vpon:
[3360]
God giue vs leysure for these rites of Loue. Once more Adieu, be valiant, and speed well.
Richm. Good Lords conduct him to his Regiment: Ile striue with troubled noise, to take a Nap, Lest leaden slumber peize me downe to morrow,
[3365]
When I should mount with wings of Victory: Once more, good night kinde Lords and Gentlemen. Exeunt. Manet Richmond. O thou, whose Captaine I account my selfe, Looke on my Forces with a gracious eye: Put in their hands thy bruising Irons of wrath,
[3370]
That they may crush downe with a heauy fall, Th'vsurping Helmets of our Aduersaries: Make vs thy ministers of Chasticement, That we may praise thee in thy victory: To thee I do commend my watchfull soule,
[3375]
Ere I let fall the windowes of mine eyes: Sleeping, and waking, oh defend me still.
Sleeps. Enter the Ghost of Prince Edward, Sonne to Henry the sixt. Gh. to Ri. Let me sit heauy on thy soule to morrow: Thinke how thou stab'st me in my prime of youth At Teukesbury: Dispaire therefore, and dye. Ghost to Richm.
[3380]
Be chearefull Richmond, For the wronged Soules Of butcher'd Princes, fight in thy behalfe: King Henries issue Richmond comforts thee.
Enter the Ghost of Henry the sixt. Ghost. When I was mortall, my Annointed body
[3385]
By thee was punched full of holes; Thinke on the Tower, and me: Dispaire, and dye, Harry the sixt, bids thee dispaire, and dye. To Richm. Vertuous and holy be thou Conqueror: Harry that prophesied thou should'st be King,
[3390]
Doth comfort thee in sleepe: Liue, and flourish.
t Enter

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Scena Secunda. [Act 5, Scene 2] Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and others with drum and colours. Richm Fellowes in Armes, and my most louing Frends Bruis'd vnderneath the yoake of Tyranny, An ink mark follows the end of this line. Thus farre into the bowels of the Land,
[3235]
Haue we marcht on without impediment; And heere receiue we from our Father Stanley Lines of faire comfort and encouragement: The wretched, bloody and vsurping Boare, (That spoyl'd your Summer Fields, and fruitfull Vines)
[3240]
Swilles your warm blood like wash, & makes his trough In your embowel'd bosomes: This foule Swine Is now euen in the Centry of this Isle, Ne're to the Towne of Leicester, as we learne: From Tamworth thither, is but one dayes march.
[3245]
In Gods name cheerely on, couragious Friends, To reape the Haruest of perpetuall peace, By this one bloody tryall off sharpe Warre.
Oxf. Euery mans Conscience is a thousand men, To fight against this guilty Homicide. Her.
[3250]
I doubt not but his Friends will turne to vs.
Blunt. He hath no friends, but what are friends for fear, Which in his deerest neede will flye from him. Richm. All for our vantage, then in Gods name march, True Hope is swift, and flyes with Swallowes wings,
[3255]
Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings.
Exeunt Omnes.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="2">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Secunda.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 2]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Richmond, Oxford, Blunt, Herbert, and
      <lb/>others with drum and colours.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ric">
      <speaker rend="italic">Richm</speaker>
      <l n="3232">Fellowes in Armes, and my most louing Frends</l>
      <l n="3233">Bruis'd vnderneath the yoake of Tyranny,</l>
      <note resp="#ES">An ink mark follows the end of this line.</note>
      <l n="3234">Thus farre into the bowels of the Land,</l>
      <l n="3235">Haue we marcht on without impediment;</l>
      <l n="3236">And heere receiue we from our Father<hi rend="italic">Stanley</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3237">Lines of faire comfort and encouragement:</l>
      <l n="3238">The wretched, bloody and vsurping Boare,</l>
      <l n="3239">(That spoyl'd your Summer Fields, and fruitfull Vines)</l>
      <l n="3240">Swilles your warm blood like wash, &amp; makes his trough</l>
      <l n="3241">In your embowel'd bosomes: This foule Swine</l>
      <l n="3242">Is now euen in the Centry of this Isle,</l>
      <l n="3243">Ne're to the Towne of Leicester, as we learne:</l>
      <l n="3244">From Tamworth thither, is but one dayes march.</l>
      <l n="3245">In Gods name cheerely on, couragious Friends,</l>
      <l n="3246">To reape the Haruest of perpetuall peace,</l>
      <l n="3247">By this one bloody tryall off sharpe Warre.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-oxf">
      <speaker rend="italic">Oxf.</speaker>
      <l n="3248">Euery mans Conscience is a thousand men,</l>
      <l n="3249">To fight against this guilty Homicide.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-her">
      <speaker rend="italic">Her.</speaker>
      <l n="3250">I doubt not but his Friends will turne to vs.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-blu">
      <speaker rend="italic">Blunt.</speaker>
      <l n="3251">He hath no friends, but what are friends for fear,</l>
      <l n="3252">Which in his deerest neede will flye from him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r3-ric">
      <speaker rend="italic">Richm.</speaker>
      <l n="3253">All for our vantage, then in Gods name march,</l>
      <l n="3254">True Hope is swift, and flyes with Swallowes wings,</l>
      <l n="3255">Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt Omnes.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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