Why so : now haue I done a good daies work . You Peeres , continue this vnited League : I , euery day expect an Embassage From my Redeemer , to redeeme me hence . And more to peace my soule shall part to heauen , Since I haue made my Friends at peace on earth . Dorset and Riuers , take each others hand , Dissemble not your hatred , Sweare your loue Take heed you dally not before your King , Lest he that is the supreme King of Kings Confound your hidden falshood , and award Either of you to be the others end Dorset , imbrace him : Hastings , loue Lord Marquesse Now Princely Buckingham , seale y this league With thy embracements to my wiues Allies , And make me happy in your vnity A pleasing Cordiall , Princely Buckingham Is this thy Vow , vnto my sickely heart : There wanteth now our Brother Gloster heere , To make the blessed period of this peace Happy indeed , as we haue spent the day : Gloster , we haue done deeds of Charity , Made peace of enmity , faire loue of hate , Betweene these swelling wrong incensed Peeres Who knowes not he is dead ? Who knowes he is ? Qu . All-seeing heauen , what a world is this ? Buc . Looke I so pale Lord Dorset , as the rest ? Dor . I my good Lord , and no man in the presence , But his red colour hath forsooke his cheekes Is Clarence dead ? The Order was reuerst I prethee peace , my soule is full of sorrow Then say at once , what is it thou requests Haue I a tongue to doome my Brothers death ? And shall that tongue giue pardon to a slaue ? My Brother kill 'd no man , his fault was Thought , And yet his punishment was bitter death . Who sued to me for him ? Who Kneel 'd and my feet , and bid me be aduis 'd ? Who spoke of Brother-hood ? who spoke of loue ? Who told me how the poore soule did forsake The mighty Warwicke , and did fight for me ? Who told me in the field at Tewkesbury , When Oxford had me downe , he rescued me : And said deare Brother liue , and be a King ? Who told me , when we both lay in the Field , Frozen to death , how he did lap me Euen in his Garments , and did giue himselfe to the numbe cold night ? All this from my Remembrance , brutish wrath Sinfully pluckt , and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my minde . But when your Carters , or your wayting Vassalls Haue done a drunken Slaughter , and defac 'd The precious Image of our deere Redeemer , You straight are on your knees for Pardon , pardon , And I must grant it you . But for my Brother , not a man would speake , Nor I speake vnto my selfe For him poore Soule . The proudest of you all , Haue bin beholding to him in his life : Yet none of you , would once begge for his life . O God ! I feare thy iustice will take hold On me , and you ; and mine , and yours for this . Come Hastings helpe me to my Closset . Ah poore Clarence . I will not sup to night , Giue me some Inke and Paper : What , is my Beauer easier then it was ? And all my Armour laid into my Tent ? Cat . It is my Liege : and all things are in readinesse 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 Who 's there ? Rat . Ratcliffe , my Lord , ‘ tis I : the early Village Cock Hath twice done salutation to the Morne , Your Friends are vp , and buckle on their Armour O Ratcliffe , I feare , I feare By the Apostle Paul , shadowes to night Haue stroke more terror to the soule of Richard , Then can the substance of ten thousand Souldiers Armed in proofe , and led by shallow Richmond . ‘ Tis not yet neere day . Come go with me , Vnder our Tents Ile play the Ease-dropper , To heare if any meane to shrinke from me . He said the truth : and what said Surrey then ? Rat . He smil 'd and said , the better for our purpose He was in the right , and so indeed it is . Tell the clocke there . Clocke strikes . Giue me a Kalender : Who saw the Sunne to day ? Rat . Not I my Lord Then he disdaines to shine : for by the Booke He should haue brau 'd the East an houre ago , A blacke day will it be to somebody . Ratcliffe The Sun will not be seene to day , The sky doth frowne , and lowre vpon our Army . I would these dewy teares were from the ground . Not shine to day ? Why , what is that to me More then to Richmond ? For the selfe-same Heauen That frownes on me , lookes sadly vpon him . Enter Norfolke . Come , bustle , bustle . Caparison my horse . Call vp Lord Stanley , bid him bring his power , I will leade forth my Soldiers to the plaine , And thus my Battell shal be ordred . My Foreward shall be drawne in length , Consisting equally of Horse and Foot : Our Archers shall be placed in the mid'st ; Iohn Duke of Norfolke , Thomas Earle of Surrey , Shall haue the leading of the Foot and Horse . They thus directed , we will follow In the maine Battell , whose puissance on either side Shall be well-winged with our cheefest Horse : This , and Saint George to boote . What think'st thou Norfolke A thing deuised by the Enemy . Go Gentlemen , euery man to his Charge , Let not our babling Dreames affright our soules : For Conscience is a word that Cowards vse , Deuis 'd at first to keepe the strong in awe , Our strong armes be our Conscience , Swords our Law . March on , ioyne brauely , let vs too't pell mell , If not to heauen , then hand in hand to Hell . What shall I say more then I haue inferr 'd ? Remember whom you are to cope withall , A sort of Vagabonds , Rascals , and Run-awayes , A scum of Brittaines , and base Lackey Pezants , Whom their o'rehYpppHeNcloyed Country vomits forth To desperate Aduentures , and assur 'd Destruction . You sleeping safe , they bring you to vnrest : You hauing Lands , and blest with beauteous wiues , They would restraine the one , distaine the other , And who doth leade them , but a paltry Fellow ? Long kept in Britaine at our Mothers cost , A Milke-sop , one that neuer in his life Felt so much cold , as ouer shooes in Snow : Let 's whip these straglers o 're the Seas againe , Lash hence these ouer-weening Ragges of France , These famish 'd Beggers , weary of their liues , Who For want of meanes had hang 'd themselues . If we be conquered , let men conquer vs , And not these bastard Britaines , whom our Fathers Haue in their owne Land beaten , bobb 'd , and thump 'd , And on Record , left them the heires of shame . Shall these enioy our Lands ? lye with our Wiues ? Rauish our daughters ? Drum afarre off Hearke , I heare their Drumme , Right Gentlemen of England , fight boldly yeomen , Draw Archers draw your Arrowes to the head , Spurre your proud Horses hard , and ride in blood , Amaze the welkin with your broken staues . Enter a Messenger . What sayes Lord Stanley , will he bring his power ? Mes . My Lord , he doth deny to come Off with his sonne Georges head A thousand hearts are great within my bosom . Aduance our Standards , set vpon our Foes , Our Ancient word of Courage , faire S George Inspire vs with the spleene of fiery Dragons : Vpon them , Victorie sits on our helpes . Alarum , excursions . Enter Catesby .