Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. Haue I since your departure had my Lords.
Rich. Me thought their Soules, whose bodies Rich.Richard murther'd,
Rich. Came to my Tent, and cried on Victory:
Rich. I promise you my Heart is very iocond,
Rich. In the remembrance of so faire a dreame,
Rich. How farre into the Morning is it Lords?
Lor. Lor.
Lor. Vpon the stroke of foure.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Why then 'tis time to Arme, and giue direction.
Rich. His Oration to his Souldiers.
Rich. More then I haue said, louing Countrymen,
Rich. The leysure and inforcement of the time
Rich. Forbids to dwell vpon: yet remember this,
Rich. God
Rich. The Life and Death of Richard the Third.
Rich. God, and our good cause, fight vpon our side,
Rich. The Prayers of holy Saints and wronged soules,
Rich. Like high rear'd Bulwarkes, stand before our Faces,
Rich. (Richard except) those whom we fight against,