KING RICHARD III. William Shakespeare
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RICHMOND
Why, then ‘tis time to arm and give direction.—
[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 wrongèd 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.
For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse on the earth’s cold face;
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully;
God and Saint George! Richmond and victory!
[Exeunt.]
[Re-enter KING RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants, and Forces.]
KING RICHARD
What said Northumberland as touching Richmond?
RATCLIFF
That he was never trainèd up in arms.
KING RICHARD
He said the truth; and what said Surrey then?
RATCLIFF
He smil’d, and said, “the better for our purpose.”
KING RICHARD
He was in the right; and so indeed it is.
[Clock strikes.]
Tell the clock there.—Give me a calendar.—
Who saw the sun to-day?
RATCLIFF
Not I, my lord.
KING RICHARD
Then he disdains to shine; for by the book
He should have brav’d the east an hour ago:
A black day will it be to somebody.—
Ratcliff,—
RATCLIFF
My lord?
KING RICHARD
The sun will not be seen to-day;
The sky doth frown and lower upon our army.
I would these dewy tears were from the ground.
Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me
More than to Richmond? for the selfsame heaven
That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.
[Enter NORFOLK.]
NORFOLK
Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.
KING RICHARD
Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse;—
Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
And thus my battle shall be ordered:—
My foreward shall be drawn out all in length,
Consisting equally of horse and foot;
Our archers shall be placèd in the midst:
John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
They thus directed, we will follow
In the main battle; whose puissance on either side
Shall be well wingèd with our chiefest horse.
This, and Saint George to boot!—What think’st thou,
Norfolk?
NORFOLK
A good direction, warlike sovereign.—
This found I on my tent this morning.
[Giving a scroll.]
KING RICHARD
[Reads.] “Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold,
For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.”
A thing devisèd by the enemy.—
Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge:
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devis’d at first to keep the strong in awe:
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to’t pellmell;
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.—
What shall I say more than I have inferr’d?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;—
A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways,
A scum of Britagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o’er-cloyed country vomits forth
To desperate adventures and assur’d destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest;
You having lands, and bless’d with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Britagne at our mother’s cost?
A milksop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let’s whip these stragglers o’er the seas again;
Lash hence these overweening rags of France,
These famish’d beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang’d themselves:
If we be conquered, let men conquer us,