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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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SCENE VI. Enter the Lords to Richmond, sitting in his Tent.

Lords.
Good morrow, Richmond.

Richm.
'Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen,
That you have ta'en a tardy sluggard here.

Lords.
How have you slept, my lord?

Richm.
The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams,
That ever enter'd in a drowsie head,
Have I since your departure had, my lords.
Methought, their souls, whose bodies Richard murther'd,
Came to my tent, and cried, On! Victory!
I promise you, my heart is very jocund,
In the remembrance of so fair a dream.
How far into the morning, is it, lords?

Lords.
Upon the stroak of four.

Richm.
Why, then 'tis time to arm and give direction.
More than I have said, loving Countrymen,
The leisure and enforcement of the time
Forbids to dwell on; yet remember this,
God and our good Cause fight upon our side:
The Pray'rs of holy Saints, and wronged souls,
Like high-rear'd bulwarks, stand before our faces.
Richard except, those, whom we fight against,
Had rather have us win, than him they follow.
For what is he, they follow? truly, gentlemen,
A bloody tyrant, and a homicide:
One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;

-- 332 --


One, that made means to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the means to help him.
A base foul stone, made precious by the foil
Of England's Chair, where he is falsely set;
One, that hath ever been God's enemy;
Then if you fight against God's enemy,
God will in justice ward you as his soldiers.
If you do sweat to put a Tyrant down,
You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain:
If you do fight against your Country's foes,
Your Country's Fat shall pay your pains the Hire.
If you do fight in safeguard of your wives,
Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors.
If you do free your children from the sword,
Your childrens' children quit it in your age.
Then, in the name of God, and all these rights,
Advance your standards; draw your willing swords.
For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corps on the earth's cold face:
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly, cheerfully;
God, and Saint George! Richmond, and victory!
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Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
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