[124]
Because a bard of Ireland told me once,
I should not live long after I saw Richmond.[1]
Again, while putting his army in array on the morning of the battle:—
K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day;
The sky doth frown and lour upon our army.—
I would, these dewy tears were from the ground.[2]
And again,—
Methought, the souls of all that I had murder'd
Came to my tent: and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.[3]
It will be said, perhaps,—and it will be granted,—that Richard pre-
