Harry that prophesied thou shouldst be king

Comforts thee in thy sleep. Live and flourish! ⌈Exit⌉

Enter ⌈above⌉ the Ghost of George Duke of Clarence

GHOST OF CLARENCE (to Richard)

Let me sit heavy on thy soul tomorrow,

I that was washed to death with fulsome wine,

Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death.

Tomorrow in the battle think on me,

And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die.

(To Richmond) Thou offspring of the house of

Lancaster,

The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee.

Good angels guard thy battle. Live and flourish!

⌈Exit⌉

Enter ⌈above⌉ the Ghosts of Lord Rivers, Lord Gray, and Sir Thomas Vaughan

GHOST OF RIVERS (to Richard)

Let me sit heavy on thy soul tomorrow,

Rivers that died at Pomfret. Despair and die.

GHOST OF GRAY (to Richard)

Think upon Gray, and let thy soul despair.

GHOST OF VAUGHAN (to Richard)

Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear

Let fall thy pointless lance. Despair and die.

ALL THREE (to Richmond)

Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard’s bosom

Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day!

⌈Exeunt Ghosts⌉

Enter ⌈above⌉ the Ghosts of the two young Princes

⌈GHOSTS OF THE PRINCES⌉ (to Richard)

Dream on thy cousins, smothered 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.

(To Richmond) 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.

⌈Exeunt Ghosts⌉

Enter ⌈above⌉ the Ghost of Lord Hastings

GHOST OF HASTINGS (to Richard)

Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake,

And in a bloody battle end thy days.

Think on Lord Hastings, then despair and die.

(To Richmond) Quiet, untroubled soul, awake, awake!

Arm, fight, and conquer for fair England’s sake.

⌈Exit⌉

Enter ⌈above⌉ the Ghost of Lady Anne

GHOST OF LADY ANNE (to Richard)

Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife,

That never slept a quiet hour with thee,

Now fills thy sleep with perturbations.

Tomorrow in the battle think on me,

And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die.

(To Richmond) Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep.

Dream of success and happy victory.

Thy adversary’s wife doth pray for thee. ⌈Exit⌉

Enter ⌈above⌉ the Ghost of the Duke of Buckingham

GHOST OF BUCKINGHAM (to Richard)

The first was I that helped thee to the crown;

The last was I that felt thy tyranny.

O in the battle think on Buckingham,

And die in terror of thy guiltiness!

Dream on, dream on, of bloody deeds and death;

Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath.

(To Richmond) I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid.

But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismayed.

God and good angels fight on Richmond’s side,

And Richard falls in height of all his pride. ⌈Exit⌉

Richard starteth up out of a dream

KING RICHARD

Give me another horse! 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. Myself upon myself?

Alack, 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 used 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 murdered

Came to my tent, and every one did threat

Tomorrow’s vengeance on the head of Richard.

Enter Ratcliffe

RATCLIFFE My lord?

KING RICHARD ‘Swounds, who is there?

RATCLIFFE

My lord, ’tis I. The early village cock

Hath twice done salutation to the morn.

Your friends are up, and buckle on their armour.

KING RICHARD

O Ratcliffe, I have dreamed a fearful dream.

What thinkest thou, will all our friends prove true?

RATCLIFFE

No doubt, my lord.

KING RICHARD

Ratcliffe, I fear, I fear.

RATCLIFFE

Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.

KING RICHARD

By the Apostle Paul, shadows tonight