RIVERS
Sir Richard Ratcliffe, let me tell this:
Today behold a subject die
For truth, for duty, and for loyalty.
GREY
God bless the Prince from all the pack of you!
A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.
VAUGHAN
You live that shall cry woe for this hereafter.
RATCLIFFE
Dispatch. The limit of your lives is out.
RIVERS
O Pomfret, Pomfret! O bloody prison,
Fatal and ominous to noble peers!
Within the guilty closure of walls
Richard the Second here was hacked to death;
And, for more slander to dismal seat,
We give to our guiltless blood to drink.
GREY
Now Margaret’s curse is fall’n upon our heads,
When she exclaimed on Hastings, you, and I,
For standing by when Richard stabbed her son.
RIVERS
Then cursed she Richard, then cursed she Buckingham,
Then cursed she Hastings. O, remember, God,
To hear her prayer for them, as now for us!
And for my sister and her princely sons,
Be satisfied, dear God, with our true blood,
Which, as know’st, unjustly must be spilt.
RATCLIFFE
Make haste. The hour of death is expiate.
RIVERS
Come, Grey, come, Vaughan, let us here embrace.
Farewell, until we meet again in heaven.