Part 36

Rat. 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. So, I am satisfied: Giue me a Bowle of Wine, I haue not that Alacrity of Spirit, Nor cheere of Minde that I was wont to haue. Set it downe. Is Inke and Paper ready? Rat. It is my Lord

Rich. 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, 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, 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: 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 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: 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, 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, 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, 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[chard]. 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.

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 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, Doth comfort thee in sleepe: Liue, and flourish. Enter the Ghost of Clarence.

Ghost. Let me sit heauy in thy soule to morrow. I that was wash'd to death with Fulsome Wine: Poore Clarence by thy guile betray'd to death: To morrow in the battell thinke on me, And fall thy edgelesse Sword, dispaire and dye.

To Richm.

Thou off-spring of the house of Lancaster The wronged heyres of Yorke do pray for thee, Good Angels guard thy battell, Liue and Flourish. Enter the Ghosts of Riuers, Gray, and Vaughan.

Riu. Let me sit heauy in thy soule to morrow, Riuers, that dy'de at Pomfret: dispaire, and dye

Grey. Thinke vpon Grey, and let thy soule dispaire

Vaugh. Thinke vpon Vaughan, and with guilty feare Let fall thy Lance, dispaire and dye.

All to Richm.

Awake, And thinke our wrongs in Richards Bosome, Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day. Enter the Ghost of Lord Hastings.

Gho. Bloody and guilty: guiltily awake, And in a bloody Battell end thy dayes. Thinke on Lord Hastings: dispaire, and dye.