Think on the Tower and me: despair, and die!
[♦] Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die!
[To Richmond] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror!
Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be king,
[130] Doth comfort thee in thy sleep: live, and flourish!
Enter the Ghost of CLARENCE.
[♦] Ghost. [To Richard] Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow!
[♦] I, that was wash’d to death with fulsome wine,
Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death.
To-morrow in the battle think on me,