Another Part of the Field. |
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Alarum: Excursions. Enter NORFOLK and Forces; to him CATESBY. |
| Cate. Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk! rescue, rescue! |
| The king enacts more wonders than a man, |
| Daring an opposite to every danger: |
| His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, |
| Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death. |
| Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost! |
| |
Alarum. Enter KING RICHARD. |
| K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! |
| Cate. Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse. |
| K. Rich. Slave! I have set my life upon a cast, |
| And I will stand the hazard of the die. |
| I think there be six Richmonds in the field; |
| Five have I slain to-day, instead of him.— |
| A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! [Exeunt. |
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Alarums. Enter from opposite sides KING RICHARD and RICHMOND, and exeunt fighting. Retreat and flourish. Then re-enter RICHMOND, STANLEY, bearing the crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces. |
| Richm. God and your arms be prais'd, victorious friends; |
| The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead. |
| Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee! |
| Lo! here, this long-usurped royalty |
| From the dead temples of this bloody wretch |
| Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal: |
| Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it. |
| Richm. Great God of heaven, say amen to all! |
| But, tell me, is young George Stanley living? |
| Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town; |
| Whither, if you please, we may withdraw us. |
| Richm. What men of name are slain on either side? |
| Stan. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers, |
| Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon. |
| Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births: |
| Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled |
| That in submission will return to us; |
| And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament, |
| We will unite the white rose and the red: |
| Smile, heaven, upon this fair conjunction, |
| That long hath frown'd upon their enmity! |
| What traitor hears me, and says not amen? |
| England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself; |
| The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, |
| The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, |
| The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire: |
| All this divided York and Lancaster, |
| Divided in their dire division, |
| O! now, let Richmond and Elizabeth, |
| The true succeeders of each royal house, |
| By God's fair ordinance conjoin together; |
| And let their heirs—God, if thy will be so,— |
| Enrich the time to come with smooth-fac'd peace, |
| With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days! |
| Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, |
| That would reduce these bloody days again, |
| And make poor England weep in streams of blood! |
| Let them not live to taste this land's increase, |
| That would with treason wound this fair land's peace! |
| Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again: |
| That she may long live here, God say amen! [Exeunt. |
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