Richard III

Rich. A Horse, a Horse, my Kingdome for a Horse   Cates. Withdraw my Lord, Ile helpe you to a Horse  Rich. Slaue, I haue set my life vpon a cast,And I will stand the hazard of the Dye:I thinke there be sixe Richmonds in the field,Fiue haue I slaine to day, in stead of him.A Horse, a Horse, my Kingdome for a Horse.

Alarum, Enter Richard and Richmond, they fight, Richard is slaine.

Retreat, and Flourish. Enter Richmond, Derby bearing the Crowne, with diuers other Lords.

  Richm. God, and your ArmesBe prais'd Victorious Friends;The day is ours, the bloudy Dogge is dead   Der. Couragious Richmond,Well hast thou acquit thee: Loe,Heere these long vsurped Royalties,From the dead Temples of this bloudy Wretch,Haue I pluck'd off, to grace thy Browes withall.Weare it, and make much of it   Richm. Great God of Heauen, say Amen to all.But tell me, is yong George Stanley liuing?  Der. He is my Lord, and safe in Leicester Towne,Whither (if you please) we may withdraw vs   Richm. What men of name are slaine on either side?  Der. Iohn Duke of Norfolke, Walter Lord Ferris,Sir Robert Brokenbury, and Sir William Brandon   Richm. Interre their Bodies, as become their Births,Proclaime a pardon to the Soldiers fled,That in submission will returne to vs,And then as we haue tane the Sacrament,We will vnite the White Rose, and the Red.Smile Heauen vpon this faire Coniunction,That long haue frown'd vpon their Enmity:What Traitor heares me, and sayes not Amen?England hath long beene mad, and scarr'd her selfe;The Brother blindely shed the Brothers blood;The Father, rashly slaughtered his owne Sonne;The Sonne compell'd, beene Butcher to the Sire;All this diuided Yorke and Lancaster,Diuided, in their dire Diuision.O now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,The true Succeeders of each Royall House,By Gods faire ordinance, conioyne together:And let thy Heires (God if thy will be so)Enrich the time to come, with Smooth-fac'd Peace,With smiling Plenty, and faire Prosperous dayes.Abate the edge of Traitors, Gracious Lord,That would reduce these bloudy dayes againe,And make poore England weepe in Streames of Blood;Let them not liue to taste this Lands increase,That would with Treason, wound this faire Lands peace.Now Ciuill wounds are stopp'd, Peace liues agen;That she may long liue heere, God say, Amen.

Exeunt.

FINIS. The Tragedy of Richard the Third: with the Landing of Earle Richmond, and the Battell at Bosworth Field.