KING RICHARD III	Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. 
Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft! I did but dream. 
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! 
The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. 
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
What do I fear? myself? there's none else by: 
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. 
Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am: 
Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why: 
Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself? 
Alack. I love myself. Wherefore? for any good 
That I myself have done unto myself? 
O, no! alas, I rather hate myself 
For hateful deeds committed by myself! 
I am a villain: yet I lie. I am not. 
Fool, of thyself speak well: fool, do not flatter. 
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 
And every tongue brings in a several tale, 
And every tale condemns me for a villain. 
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree 
Murder, stem murder, in the direst degree; 
All several sins, all used in each degree, 
Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! guilty! 
I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; 
And if I die, no soul shall pity me: 
Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself 
Find in myself no pity to myself? 
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. 	
Richard III, Scene III Bosworth Field.