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The Ghosts vanish. King Richard starts out of his Dream. K. R. Give me another howe

the lights burn blue..

Published by (Enten London Fete 13 1814

K. Rich. Give me another horse,3-bind up my wounds,

Have mercy, Jesu!-Soft; I did but dream.-
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!-
The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight.
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
What do I fear? myself? there's none else by:
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.

Is there a murderer here? No;-Yes; I am:
Then fly,-What, from myself? Great reason: Why?
Lest I revenge. What? Myself on myself?
I love myself. Wherefore? for any good,
That I myself have done unto myself?
O, no: alas, I rather hate myself,
For hateful deeds committed by myself.
I am a villain: Yet I lie, I am not.

Fool, of thyself speak well :-Fool, do not flatter.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree,
Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree;
All several sins, all us'd in each degree,
Throng to the bar, crying all,-Guilty! guilty!
I shall despair.-There is no creature loves me;
And, if I die, no soul will pity me :-

Nay, wherefore should they? since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to 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.

'Give me another horse,] There is in this, as in many of our author's speeches of passion, something very trifling, and something very striking. Richard's debate, whether he should quarrel with himself, is too long continued, but the subsequent exaggeration of his crimes is truly tragical. JOHNSON.

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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 lords. Methought, their souls, whose bodies Richard murder'd,

Came to my tent, and cried-On! victory!
I promise you, my heart is very jocund

In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
How far into the morning is it, lords?
Lords. Upon the stroke of four.

Richm. Why, then 'tis time to arm, and give di rection.- [He advances to the Troops..

More than I have said, loving countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell on: Yet remember this,-
God, and our good cause, fight upon our side;
The prayers of holy saints, and wronged souls,
Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces;
Richard except, those whom we fight against,
Had rather have us win, than him they follow.
For what is he they follow? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant, and a homicide;

One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
One that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the means to help

him;

A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
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.
Then, in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards, draw your willing swords :

*Of England's chair,] England's chair, means England's throne. S quit ] i, e, requite.

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