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Ghost of King Henry VI:
Ghost of CLARENCE:
Ghost of RIVERS:
Ghost of GREY:
Ghost of VAUGHAN:
All:
Ghost of HASTINGS:
Ghosts of young Princes:
Ghost of LADY ANNE:
Ghost of BUCKINGHAM:
KING RICHARD III:
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. What, 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, stem murder, in the direst 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 shall 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.
RATCLIFF:
My lord!
KING RICHARD III:
'Zounds! who is there?
RATCLIFF:
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.
KING RICHARD III:
O Ratcliff, I have dream'd a fearful dream!
What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true?
RATCLIFF:
No doubt, my lord.
KING RICHARD III:
O Ratcliff, I fear, I fear,--
RATCLIFF:
Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.
KING RICHARD III:
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 see if any mean to shrink from me.
LORDS:
Good morrow, Richmond!
RICHMOND:
Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen,
That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.
LORDS:
How have you slept, my lord?
RICHMOND:
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,