Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Ghost That help'd thee to the Crowne:
Ghost The last was I that felt thy Tyranny.
Ghost O, in the Battaile think on Buckingham,
Ghost And dye in terror of thy guiltinesse.
Ghost Dreame on, dreame on, of bloody deeds and death,
Ghost Fainting dispaire; dispairing yeeld thy breath.
Ghost Ghost
Ghost to Richm.
Ghost I dyed for hope
Ghost Ere I could lend thee Ayde;
Ghost But cheere thy heart, and be thou not dismayde:
Ghost God, and good Angels fight on Richmonds side,
Ghost And Richard fall in height of all his pride.
Ghost Richard starts out of his dreame.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Giue me another Horse, bind vp my Wounds:
Rich. Haue mercy Iesu. Soft, I did but dreame.
Rich. O coward Conscience! how dost thou afflict me?
Rich. The Lights burne blew. It is not dead midnight.
Rich. Cold fearefull drops stand on my trembling flesh.