The Tragedy of Richard the Third: ACT III
Introduction ACT I ACT II ACT III SCENE I. London. A street. SCENE II. Before Lord Hastings' house. SCENE III. Pomfret Castle. SCENE IV. The Tower of London. SCENE V. The Tower-walls. SCENE VI. The same. SCENE VII. Baynard's Castle. ACT IV ACT V About the Play Feedback			Search: All the plays Hamlet Coriolanus Julius Caesar King Lear Macbeth Othello Romeo and Juliet Richard II Richard III Titus Andronicus Antony and Cleopatra Timon of Athens Henry IV Part 1 Henry IV Part 2 Henry the Fifth Henry VI Part 1 Henry VI Part 2 Henry VI Part 3 Henry VIII King John Pericles Troilus and Cressida All's Well... As You Like It The Comedy of Errors Cymbeline A Midsummer... Love's Labour's Lost Measure for Measure The Merry Wives... Much Ado about Nothing The Merchant of Venice Twelfth Night The Taming of... The Tempest The Two Gentlemen... The Winter's Tale    for: SCENE III. Pomfret Castle. Enter RATCLIFF, with halberds, carrying RIVERS, GREY, and VAUGHAN to death RATCLIFF       Come, bring forth the prisoners. RIVERS       Sir Richard Ratcliff, let me tell thee this:       To-day shalt thou behold a subject die       For truth, for duty, and for loyalty. GREY 5     God keep the prince from all the pack of you!       A knot you are of damned blood-suckers! VAUGHAN       You live that shall cry woe for this after. RATCLIFF       Dispatch; the limit of your lives is out. RIVERS       O Pomfret, Pomfret! O thou bloody prison, 10    Fatal and ominous to noble peers!       Within the guilty closure of thy walls       Richard the second here was hack'd to death;       And, for more slander to thy dismal seat,       We give thee up our guiltless blood to drink. GREY 15    Now Margaret's curse is fall'n upon our heads,       For standing by when Richard stabb'd her son. RIVERS       Then cursed she Hastings, then cursed she Buckingham,       Then cursed she Richard. O, remember, God       To hear her prayers for them, as now for us 20    And for my sister and her princely sons,       Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,       Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt. RATCLIFF       Make haste; the hour of death is expiate. RIVERS       Come, Grey, come, Vaughan, let us all embrace: 25    And take our leave, until we meet in heaven. Exeunt Return to top of page ... or ... Go to next scene