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Richard III
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  • ACT V SCENE I

    
     Dramatis Personae 
     Act I   Scene I 
     Act I   Scene II
     Act I   Scene III
     Act I   Scene IV  
     Act II  Scene I 
     Act II  Scene II 
     Act II  Scene III 
     Act II  Scene IV 
     Act III Scene I
     Act III Scene II
     Act III Scene III
     Act III Scene IV
     Act III Scene V
     
    
     Act III Scene VI
     Act IV  Scene I 
     Act IV  Scene II
     Act IV  Scene III
     Act IV  Scene IV
     Act IV  Scene V
     Act V   Scene I 
     Act V   Scene II 
     Act V   Scene III 
     Act V   Scene IV 
     Act V   Scene V
     Complete play


     Act V 

    
    ACT V: SCENE I	Salisbury. An open place.

    
    	Enter the Sheriff, and BUCKINGHAM, with halberds,
    	led to execution
    
    BUCKINGHAM	Will not King Richard let me speak with him?
    
    Sheriff	No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
    
    BUCKINGHAM	Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey,
    	Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
    	Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
    	By underhand corrupted foul injustice,
    	If that your moody discontented souls
    	Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
    	Even for revenge mock my destruction!
    	This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?
    
    Sheriff	It is, my lord.
    
    BUCKINGHAM	Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday.
    	This is the day that, in King Edward's time,
    	I wish't might fall on me, when I was found
    	False to his children or his wife's allies
    	This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall
    	By the false faith of him I trusted most;
    	This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
    	Is the determined respite of my wrongs:
    	That high All-Seer that I dallied with
    	Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head
    	And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
    	Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men
    	To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms:
    	Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head;
    	'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow,
    	Remember Margaret was a prophetess.'
    	Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame;
    	Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
    
    	Exeunt
    
    
    

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