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NORFOLK:
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I go, my lord.
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KING RICHARD III:
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Stir with the lark to-morrow, gentle Norfolk.
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NORFOLK:
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I warrant you, my lord.
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KING RICHARD III:
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Catesby!
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CATESBY:
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My lord?
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KING RICHARD III:
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Send out a pursuivant at arms
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To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power
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Before sunrising, lest his son George fall
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Into the blind cave of eternal night.
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Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch.
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Saddle white Surrey for the field to-morrow.
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Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy.
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Ratcliff!
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RATCLIFF:
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My lord?
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KING RICHARD III:
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Saw'st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland?
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RATCLIFF:
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Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself,
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Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop
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Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.
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KING RICHARD III:
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So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine:
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I have not that alacrity of spirit,
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Nor cheer of mind, that I was wont to have.
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Set it down. Is ink and paper ready?
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RATCLIFF:
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It is, my lord.
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KING RICHARD III:
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Bid my guard watch; leave me.
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Ratcliff, about the mid of night come to my tent
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And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.
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DERBY:
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Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!
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RICHMOND:
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All comfort that the dark night can afford
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Be to thy person, noble father-in-law!
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Tell me, how fares our loving mother?
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DERBY:
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I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother
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Who prays continually for Richmond's good:
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So much for that. The silent hours steal on,
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And flaky darkness breaks within the east.
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In brief,--for so the season bids us be,--
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Prepare thy battle early in the morning,
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And put thy fortune to the arbitrement
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Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war.
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I, as I may--that which I would I cannot,--
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With best advantage will deceive the time,
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And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms:
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But on thy side I may not be too forward
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Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George,
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Be executed in his father's sight.
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Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time
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Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love
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And ample interchange of sweet discourse,
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Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon:
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God give us leisure for these rites of love!
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Once more, adieu: be valiant, and speed well!
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RICHMOND:
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Good lords, conduct him to his regiment:
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I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap,
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Lest leaden slumber peise me down to-morrow,
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When I should mount with wings of victory:
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Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.
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O Thou, whose captain I account myself,
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Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
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Put in their hands thy bruising irons of wrath,
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That they may crush down with a heavy fall
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The usurping helmets of our adversaries!
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Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
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That we may praise thee in the victory!
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To thee I do commend my watchful soul,
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Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes:
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Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still!
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Ghost of Prince Edward:
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