To thee I do commend my watchful soul, [Sleeps. The ghost of Prince EDWARD, son to HENRY the Sixth, rises between the two tents. Ghost. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! [To King RICHARD. Think, how thou stab'dst me in my prime of youth At Tewksbury; Despair therefore, and die!Be cheerful, Richmond; for the wronged souls Of butcher'd princes fight in thy behalf: King Henry's issue, Richmond, comforts thee. The ghost of King HENRY the Sixth rises. Ghost. When I was mortal, my anointed body [To King RICHARD. By thee was punched full of deadly holes : [To RICHMOND. Harry, that prophecy'd thou should'st be king, The Ghost of CLARENCE rises. Ghost. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow! [To King RICHARD. I, that was wash'd to death with fulsome wine, Poor Clarence, by thy guile betray'd to death! To-morrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword; Despair, and die !— Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster, [TO RICHMOND. The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee; The ghosts of RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN, rise. Riv. Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow, [To King RICHARD. Rivers, that died at Pomfret! Despair, and die! Grey. Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair! [To King RICHARD. Vaugh. Think upon Vaughan; and, with guilty fear, Let fall thy lance! Despair, and die!— [To King RICHARD. All. Awake! and think, our wrongs in Richard's bosom [To RICHMOND. Will conquer him;-awake, and win the day! The ghost of HASTINGS rises. Ghost. Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake; [To King RICHARD. And in a bloody battle end thy days! Think on lord Hastings; and despair, and die !— [TO RICHMOND. Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! The ghosts of the two young Princes rise. Ghosts. Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower; Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard, And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death! Thy nephews' souls bid thee despair, and die.— Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake in joy; Good angels guard thee from the boar's annoy! Live, and beget a happy race of kings! Edward's unhappy sons do bid thee flourish. The ghost of Queen ANNE rises. Ghost. Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife, That never slept a quiet hour with thee, And fall thy edgeless sword; Despair, and die!- Dream of success and happy victory; [To RICHMOND. Thy adversary's wife doth pray for thee. The ghost of BUCKINGHAM rises. Ghost. The first was I, that help'd thee to the crown; [To King RICHARD. The last was I, that felt thy tyranny: O, in the battle think on Buckingham, Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death; [To RICHMOND. But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd: God, and good angels fight on Richmond's side; And Richard falls in height of all his pride. [The ghosts vanish. King RICHARD starts out of his dream. K. Rich. Give me another horse,-bind up my wounds, Have mercy, Jesu!-Soft; I did but dream.- Is there a murderer here? No;-Yes; I am : I love myself. Wherefore? for any good, Fool, of thyself speak well:-Fool, do not flatter. Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself Methought, the souls of all that I had murder'd Came to my tent: and every one did threat To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard. Enter RATCLIFF. Rat. My lord,——— K. Rich. Who's there? Rat. Ratcliff, my lord; 'tis I. The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn; Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour. K. Rich. O, Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream! What thinkest thou? will our friends prove all true? Rat. No doubt, my lord. K. Rich. Ratcliff, I fear, I fear, Rat. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows. K. Rich. By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard, Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers, Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond. It is not yet near day. Come, go with me; Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper, To hear, if any mean to shrink from me. [Exeunt King RICHARD and RATCLIFF. 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? Richm. The sweetest sleep, and fairest-boding dreams, That ever enter'd in a drowsy head, Have I, since your departure, had, my 1 lords. |