SOURCE: Hassel, R. Chris, Jr. “Military Oratory in Richard III.” Shakespeare Quarterly 35, no. 1 (spring 1984): 53-61.

[In the following essay, Hassel compares the rhetorical power and effectiveness of Richard's and Richmond's addresses to their forces before the crucial battle at Bosworth Field in Richard III. Citing sixteenth-century military manuals, the critic evaluates the two leaders' abilities to establish the justice of their cause and inspire their troops.]

Though Richmond's victory over Richard Hunchback at Bosworth Field was memorialized in chronicle and verse throughout the sixteenth century, the question of the aesthetic victory in Shakespeare's Richard III remains alive. Are Richmond's orations to his troops as aesthetically unsatisfying as some of his most vocal critics claim? Are they “flat,” “stiff,” “pious,” and “platitudinous?” Or are they instead ringing assertions of what is right and just, powerful enough to circumscribe even Richard's dramatic and rhetorical power? Does the “artist in evil” continue to beguile us, even as he falls? Or does God's chosen Richmond drown Richard's book, even as he takes his crown?¹ Because the interpretive questions involve at least two non disputanda, questions of taste and questions of doctrine, the issue is unlikely ever to be resolved. That adds to its fascination.

I

The influential treatises of Niccolo Machiavelli, Thomas Sutcliffe, Barnabe Rich, and others on the art of war often address the topic of military oratory. They therefore become a useful Renaissance prism through which we can view and try to judge the relative attractiveness of Richmond and Richard during their controversial final scenes.

In The Art of War Machiavelli calls a good oratorical style essential to military leadership:

It was requisite that the excellente Capitaines were oratours: for that without knowyng how to speake to al the army, with difficultie maie be wrought any good thing. … This speakyng taketh awaie feare, incourageth the mindes, increaseth the obstinatenes to faight, discovereth the deceiptes, promiseth rewardes, sheweth the perilles, and the waie to avoide theim, reprehendeth, praieth, threateneth, filleth full of hope, praise, shame, and doeth all those thynges, by the whiche the humaine passions are extincte, or kendled.²

Machiavelli's contemporaries add such crucial particulars as the effective exploitation of God and good cause, and the favorable interpretation of signs. They say that a military leader should stress the weaknesses of the foe and the potency of the leader's own valiant past. Finally he should invoke love of captain and of country.

In A Distant Mirror, Barbara Tuchman discusses the importance of God and of just cause in Medieval and early Renaissance warfare.

While desirable in any epoch, a ‘just war’ in the 14th century was virtually a legal necessity as the basis for requisitioning feudal aids in men and money. It was equally essential for securing God on one's side, for war was considered fundamentally an appeal to the arbitrement of God.³

Matthew Sutcliffe's influential military manual begins with a lengthy argument for just cause: “first, I require religion,” he says, for “God he is Lord of Hostes, and giver of victories; and sure it is not probable, he will give it to those, that aske it not at his handes.” Elsewhere Sutcliffe writes that the “Generall [must] be religious, and a mainteiner of religion, … if hee expect the favour of God, and good successe in his affaires.” In other Renaissance military manuals the appeal to God and good cause can smack as much of opportunism as it does of piety. Onosander suggests that “the sugred talke of the Captaine maye move thym … unto great actes for the love of vertue.” Machiavelli writes, “Enterprises maie the safelier be brought to passe by meanes of religion.” Machiavelli even advises citing dreams as evidence of God's favor, whether or not they have occurred:

Many have tolde how God hath appered unto them in their slepe, who hath admonished them to faight. In our fathers time, Charles the seventh kyng of Fraunce, in the warre whiche he made againste the Englishemen, saied, he counsailed with a maide, sent from God, … the which was occasion of his victorie.⁴

Whether pious or practical, the invocation of God and just cause was an essential weapon in the arsenal of the military orator.

II

Though with none of this cynicism, Richmond can honestly and effectively report to his captains:

Me thought their Soules, whose bodies Richard murther'd
Came to my Tent, and cried on Victory:
I promise you my Heart is very jocond,
In the remembrance of so faire a dreame

(ll. 3695-98)⁵

We have seen these souls and heard their unanimous testimony that “God, and our good cause, fight upon our side” (l. 3706).

Think how often the motif occurs. “Vertuous and holy be thou Conqueror,” says the Ghost of Henry VI. “Good Angels guard thy battell, Live and Flourish,” says Clarence. The two young princes bless Richmond: “Good Angels guard thee from the Boares annoy.” Richard's Anne promises: “Thou quiet soule, / Sleep thou a quiet sleepe: / Dreame of Successe, and Happy Victory.” Buckingham completes this chorus affirming God and good cause: “God, and good Angels fight on Richmonds side” (ll. 3575-3636, passim). Richmond and his allies often claim God and good cause in their military oratory. They march “In Gods name, cheerely on.” Their good “Conscience is a thousand men” (ll. 3419-27, passim). Richmond is assured of God and good cause in his devout prayer and in his battle oration (ll. 3551-57, 3706-36). When Richmond reminds his men of these two potent allies, we know that he is telling the truth as well as exploiting an effective first strategy of military oratory. Richmond and his forces believe in God and just cause. They believe in their opponent's depravity. In the last battle they are strengthened in these beliefs.

Richard, in sharp contrast, can neither shake off the horrifying effects of his dream of despair and death nor dissemble otherwise before his allies:

O Ratcliffe, I have dreamd a fearefull dreame,
What thinkst thou, will our friendes prove all true?

(ll. 3674+ 1 & 2, Q 1)⁶

By the Apostle Paul, shadowes to night
Have stroke more terror to the soule of Richard,
Then can the substance of ten thousand Souldiers
Armed in proofe, and led by shallow Richmond.

(ll. 3677-80)

Again we have witnessed the unanimous testimony of the ghosts. As Richard knows, it is more substance than shadow. He has stabbed a king, butchered two princes, punched another king “full of holes,” washed a brother to death, killed Rivers, Grey, Vaughan, Hastings, “wretched Anne,” and Buckingham. His cause is overwhelmingly bad; all of these “wrongs” are in Richard's bosom, weighing him down like lead. “Bloody and guilty” becomes the countering epithet to Richmond's “Vertuous and holy”—that and “dispaire and dye.” Near the middle of this chorus, all chant to Richmond, “Awake, / And thinke our wrongs in Richards bosome, / Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day” (ll. 3564-95, passim).

Not only is Richard without supernatural sanction or good cause for the upcoming battle; he is also without the wit or the will to pretend to have them. This is true when he wakes; it is also true during his battle oration. Not incidentally, Hall's Richard is more than equal to this challenge. Shakespeare's is not. Apparently he knows that he is “One that hath ever beene Gods Enemy.” Richmond's corollary is inescapable: “Then if you fight against Gods Enemy, / God will in justice ward you as his Soldiers” (ll. 3718-20). Only Richmond can invoke such an ally in Shakespeare's version of the battle orations or during the final act. By any standards, then—whether Sutcliffe's idealism or Machiavelli's cynicism—Richard is Richmond's clear inferior in terms of God and good cause. He does not even invoke them as an oratorical technique.

III

On the other hand, Richard is probably better than Richmond at the time-honored strategy of putting down his enemy, even though Richmond has better material to work with. Machiavelli advises his military orator to “make thy men to esteme little the enemie, as Agesilao a Spartaine used, who shewed to his souldiou[r]s, certain Persians naked, to the intent that seyng their delicate members, thei should not have cause to feare them.”⁷ Sutcliffe suggests declaring “the enemies wantes, and weakenes, and disadvantages.” Harault cites the example of Lisander at the siege of Corinth, who said to his troops, “Are you not ashamed to be afraid to assaile those enemies, which are so slothfull and negligent, that hares sleep quietly within the precinct of their walles.”⁸

Richard's speech is composed almost exclusively of such deprecation of his enemies. He insults Richmond's troops:

Remember whom you are to cope withall,
A sort of Vagabonds, Rascals, and Run-awayes,
A scum of Brittaines, and base Lackey Pezants,
Whom their o're-cloyed Country vomits forth
To desperate Adventures, and assur'd Destruction.

(ll. 3785-89)

He calls them “straglers,” “over-weening Ragges of France,” “famish'd Beggars,” “poore Rats,” “bastard Britaines” (ll. 3785-3803, passim). He insults Richmond in the same key:

And who doth leade them, but a paltry Fellow?
Long kept in Britaine at our Mothers cost,
A Milke-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold, as over shooes in Snow.

(ll. 3793-96)

Without just cause or God's name, Richard's recourse to this tactic smacks of desperation and of pettiness. But he does play this Machiavellian card for all it is worth.

Richmond is not totally deficient, incidentally, in this strategy. Against Richard he says,

For, what is he they follow? Truly Gentlemen,
A bloudy Tyrant, and a Homicide:
One rais'd in blood, and one in blood establish'd;
One that made meanes to come by what he hath,
And slaughter'd those that were the meanes to help him:
A base foule Stone, made precious by the soyle
Of Englands Chaire, where he is falsely set:
One that hath ever beene Gods Enemy.

(ll. 3711-17)

Earlier, Richmond had also attacked Richard as

The wretched, bloody, and usurping Boare,
(That spoyl'd your Summer Fields, and fruitfull Vines)
Swilles your warm blood like wash, & makes his trough
In your embowel'd bosomes: This foule Swine.

(ll. 3412-15)

Both speakers, then, use this tactic freely. The differences in their usage deserve notice. A fourth of Richmond's military oratory is ad hominem, as against nearly three-fourths of Richard's. Further, Richmond's assaults against Richard are mostly true. That is to say, they are not so much ad hominem argument as articulations of just cause; witness the deserved final epithets as “Gods Enemy.” That Richard speaks ad hominem almost exclusively attests further to his loss of wit and vitality at this crucial moment. He himself admits “I have not that Alacrity of Spirit, / Nor cheere of Minde that I was wont to have” (ll. 3513-14). In Richmond's mouth, attacking the man asserts Richard's unjust cause. Paradoxically, it may also add some attractive dents of humanity to the surface of Richmond's shining armor. Shakespeare follows Hall more closely in this respect than in others. Perhaps he too wanted that healthy dose of anger, which sometimes “hath a privilege” even in God's minister.

Incidentally, Richard may also take his own oratory too literally here. Harault advises against overconfidence before battle, a fault Richard betrays in his oration. Of Darius' defeat by Alexander, he says: “The thing that undid him, was his overweening opinion that he should overcome Alexander with ease, which is the thing that overthroweth all such as upon disdain to their enemies, do set no good order in their affairs, and in the leading of their armies.”⁹ Richmond's oration acknowledges the military power as well as the moral impotence of his foe.

IV

As further advice, Sutcliffe urges the military orator “to confirme them with hope and report of their former valiant actions.” Garrard stresses “the example of magnanimitie in their forefathers.”¹⁰ Richard has the better of Richmond in this area. He can effectively remind his troops of the battles of Poitiers and Crecy and Agincourt, all major English victories over the French: “And not these bastard Britaines; whom our Fathers / Have in their owne Land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd, / And on Record, left them the heires of shame” (ll. 3803-5). Richard's troops should be encouraged that they are again engaging these French. In the light of recent history, Richmond's men must be more than a little unsure.

In fact, Richmond might be countering that fear by leaning so heavily on God's help and on the theme of hope: “In Gods name cheerely on, couragious Friends, / To reape the Harvest of perpetuall peace, / By this one bloody tryall of sharpe Warre.” Again he urges, “Then in Gods name march, / True Hope is swift, and flyes with Swallowes wings, / Kings it makes Gods, and meaner creatures Kings.” Even at the end of his oration, he encourages them similarly, “Sound Drummes and Trumpets boldly, and cheerefully, / God and Saint George, Richmond, and Victory.” Without the precedent of recent victory, Richmond must emphasize his good hope in God's cause and their own. He must encourage them as Englishmen, invoking St. George. His reassurances have a psychological validity, an insight into human nature and human need, an awareness of his own vulnerability and that of his troops, that further humanize Richmond. Like Hal inspiring the troops before Agincourt, Richmond is effective because he is one of them. They are truly “Fellowes in Armes,” and “most loving Frends” (ll. 3406-29, passim; 3735-36). Richmond may thus turn this apparent disadvantage to his favor; in the process he becomes a more attractive character as well.

V

With “Encourage them with promises, and hope of rewarde,” Sutcliffe sounds another common theme of military oratory. Garrard urges reciting “benefits to soule and bodie,” crisply combining the appeal to greed with that to just cause. Machiavelli says that any good orator “promiseth rewardes.”¹¹ Interestingly, Richmond is much more lavish than Richard in numbering the rewards of battle. However, Shakespeare has refined his appeal considerably from that recounted in Hall:

Therefore labour for your gayne and swet for your right: while we were in Brytaine we had small livynges and litle plentye of welth or welfare, now is the tyme come to get abundance of riches and copie of profit, which is the reward of your service and merite of your payne.

(fol.1vi^v)

Shakespeare's Richmond replaces material gain with these nobler spoils:

Then if you fight against Gods Enemy,
God will in justice ward you as his Soldiers.
If you do sweare to put a Tyrant downe,
You sleepe in peace, the Tyrant being slaine:
If you do fight against your Countries Foes,
Your Countries Fat shall pay your paines the hyre.
If you do fight in safegard of your wives,
Your wives shall welcome home the Conquerors.
If you do free your Children from the Sword,
Your Childrens Children quits it in your Age.

(ll. 3719-28)

God's reward, peaceful sleep, a welcome home, love, honor in old age—these are the rewards of noble combat in Richmond's good cause. “Countries Fat” is his one concession to the more materialistic interests of his men. Even Brutus would not be embarrassed by this Cassius.

Richard, being in power, leans instead on threats to the status quo, fear of shame and fear of loss:

You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest:
You having Lands, and blest with beauteous wives,
They would restraine the one, distaine the other.

(ll. 3790-92)

Lost lands, stained wives, unrest—these are the threats of the established but reeling King. “Shall these enjoy our Lands? lye with our Wives? / Ravish our daughters?” (ll. 3806-7). The repetition again suggests desperation. It also betrays a lack of cause and a loss of ingenuity, not to mention a dearth of abstract value in Richard's universe. On the other hand, all of these arguments are also established parts of the arsenal of military oratory. Sutcliffe says, “Feare them with shame.” Machiavelli and Garrard urge threatening “present peril.”¹² Richard uses what little stock he has. However, his inventory of invention is running almost as low as the number of causes he can claim.

VI

Of “love of Captain and country”¹³ we must infer the effectiveness of Richard and Richmond from their words and from the responses of their men. Both leaders invoke the patriotic hero and patron saint of England, St. George. Richmond connects him with God, Richard with “the spleene of fiery Dragons” (l. 3822). Hope and despair are fairly obviously the respective companions of Richmond and Richard in this little counterpoint. Both men harp on defending their land, their wives, and their children. Richard can have little moral leverage with the last two points. Richmond addresses “most loving Frends” and “loving Countrymen,” and seems surrounded by them in Oxford, Blount, Herbert, and Stanley. Richard has Surrey, Norfolk, Ratcliffe, and Catesby, loyal chiefs if not loving friends. But when Blount says “He hath no friends, but what are friends for fear” (l. 3425), we cannot believe him far wrong. Richard addresses no friends in his oration, only the “Gentlemen of England” (l. 3809). Their only true cause is country, not king. Even the diminished Richard is apparently aware of this liability in his words of address.

VII

Elaborate signs precede the battle, and the public reactions of Richard and Richmond to them are instructive. Proctor says, “some people doe stumble muche at sygnes or tokens which befall before battaill, … wherefore the wyse captayne will chearefullye expounde all suche chaunces for his advauntage … [as] a happy sygne of the victorye fallinge unto him.”¹⁴ Richmond has an easy time of this, because his signs are good and his heart is jocund. He has had “the sweetest sleepe, / And fairest boading Dreames, / That ever entred in a drowsie head.” The ghosts have promised “Successe, and Happy Victory.” Therefore Richmond does not have to feign when he cheerfully proclaims, “Me thought their Soules, whose bodies Richard murther'd, / Came to my Tent, and cried on Victory” (ll. 3623, 3691-96, passim).

Richard does have to feign good cheer, and he cannot. His vaunted ingenuity fails him yet again, as it has failed him consistently ever since he became king. To Ratcliffe he admits, “I have dreamd a fearefull dreame.” He adds, “shadowes to night / Have stroke more terror to the soule of Richard, / Then can the substance of ten thousand Souldiers / Armed in proofe, and led by shallow Richmond.” To the troops there is a similar admission, only barely masked by ineffective bravado: “Let not our babling Dreames affright our soules: / For Conscience is a word that Cowards use.” Unless all of his troops are as cynical, as skeptical, as Richard himself, this piece of oratory does not augur well for his cause, or speak well of his presence of mind. Richmond ignores the darkling sky. Richard is enveloped by it, as by guilt: “Who saw the Sunne today?” he asks; “Then he disdaines to shine. … A blacke day will it be to somebody.” All of this is spoken out loud, before Ratcliffe and Catesby. Then “The Sun will not be seene to day, / The sky doth frowne, and lowre upon our Army. / I would these dewy teares were from the ground.” Even when Richard rouses himself to shake off the omen, he still attests unconsciously to its power: “the selfe-same Heaven / That frownes on me, lookes sadly upon him” (ll. 3674 + 1-3779, passim).

Heaven frowns on Richard; on Richmond it looks sadly. They are not the same. Richard knows it, and he cannot feign otherwise. The good face that he puts on immediately afterward remains colored gray by these frowning skies. The desperation and emptiness of the oration which follows is darkened too by Richard's encounters with these signs and tokens. His despair must affright the souls of all but the most depraved of his men.

VIII

Finally, Richmond is simply a better orator than Richard. Richard is superb in one-on-one conversations. His soliloquies and his earliest dialogue are masterpieces of personal, colloquial rhetoric, full of energy, wit, and inspiration. But Richard is no public speaker. By nature chaotic, Richard is no good at the ordered, formal flourishes that characterize most good oratory. When he tries to use them, his crude images, downward comparisons, and base epithets are incongruent with the high style. As in so many other ways, Richard as military orator is finally a victim of himself. “What shall I say more then I have inferr'd?” (l. 3784) is an interesting admission of this victimization. Richard has denied God. He has forsaken all traditional values, all abstractions even. “Conscience is a word,” says this nominalist, “Air—a trim reckoning.” Like Falstaff's “catechism,”¹⁵ Richard's comment here dooms him to ultimate impotency. He is himself alone. So his language is limited to his condition of being. After the brief interlude of the Vice, he is base, inferential, uninspiring.

Richmond, in contrast, because he is allied with God and good cause, is eloquent precisely because he is not alone. He believes in God, in virtue, in family, friends, and country; he believes in order, in justice. Shakespeare's Richmond knows truth; he does not infer it. Thus he can assert truth and be believed in that assertion. Richmond exploits this advantage to the hilt, but because he also believes it, there is no dissimulation. Truth arms his oratory. Style and being are one. Richard is no longer clever enough or sufficiently in command of himself to use Richmond's rhetorical strategies, even cynically. Words, so often abused by Richard, continue to take their revenge.

Barnabe Rich says of the captain's oratory that “it encourageth the minds either of hope, either else of despair.”¹⁶ There could hardly be a clearer illustration of these opposites than during the battle orations in Richard III. Richmond unequivocally ends on the note of hope, as he should since his cause is just and his conscience clear: “Sound Drummes and Trumpets boldly, and cheerefully, / God and Saint George, Richmond, and Victory.” Richard's strains are much as the ghosts predicted, chaotic, sulphurous, full of valiant fury, signifying nothing. He prefaces his oration, “March on, joyne bravely, let us too't pell mell, / If not to heaven, then hand in hand to Hell.” He ends it with “Our Ancient word of Courage, faire S. George / Inspire us with the spleene of fiery Dragons: / Upon them, Victorie sits on our helmes” (ll. 3735-36, 3782-83, 3821-23). It does, like a vulture or a leering Beelzebub. St. George is not the Dragon, nor is he just a word. If Richard had the time or the composure, even he might appreciate this last revenge of language and truth upon himself.

In the final act of Richard III, and in the chronicle tradition too, military oratory consistently, though not simplistically, proves to be one of Richmond's strengths and one of Richard's weaknesses. After Richmond's oration, Hall reports, “These cherefull wordes he sett forthe with such gesture of his body and smylyng countenance, as though all redye he had vanquyshed hys enemies” (fol.1vi^v). The effect of Richard's oration was quite different:

This exhortacion encouraged all such as favoured hym, but suche as were present more for dreade then love, kyssed them openly, whom they inwardely hated other sware outwarde ly to take part with suche whose death thei secretely compassed and inwardely imagened, other promised to invade the kynge's enemies, whiche fled and fought with fyrce courage against the kyng. … So was his people to hym unsure and unfaithfull at his ende.

(fol.lv)

Shakespeare seems to have followed Hall very closely in these respects. Richard's battle oration simply did not work, in Hall or in Shakespeare. “So was his people to hym unsure and unfaithfull at his ende.” The murderous Machiavelli could have schooled Richard better on military oratory. But then, there was no “good thing” that Richard could have wrought by the final scene of his life, except his death.

According to the standards of the foremost military manuals of the time, Richmond overwhelms Richard before the Battle of Bosworth Field. Richard knows the oratorical rules, but his speeches remain vacuous and desperate. In contrast, Richmond is a savvy military orator who is also a good man. Further, he has good men to respond to his good words. If God and good cause fight on Richmond's side, so do considerable rhetorical skills. The power of his ordered rhetoric predicts his subsequent success at arms. Richmond's words have been weighed too lightly in the critical and the theatrical traditions. Perhaps filtering them through these military manuals will help to right the balance.

Notes

1. Many critics accept Richmond as a benevolent agent of divine providence but are unimpressed by his oratorical or personal styles at play's end: Robert G. Hunter, Shakespeare and the Mystery of God's Judgments (Athens: Univ. of Georgia Press, 1976), p. 73; John Palmer, Political Characters of Shakespeare (London: Macmillan, 1945), p. 116; M. M. Reese, The Cease of Majesty (London: Edward Arnold, 1961), p. 212; A. P. Rossiter, “Angel With Horns,” in Shakespeare: The Histories, ed. Eugene Waith (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1965), pp. 71-75, 80. Those who question the play's providential scheme are even more inclined to find his orations unattractive: David L. Frey, The First Tetralogy (The Hague: Mouton, 1976), pp. 130-32; Nicholas Brooke, Shakespeare's Early Tragedies (London: Methuen, 1968), p. 78; Wilbur Sanders, The Dramatist and the Received Idea (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1968), p. 109. A small third group finds Richmond's orations aesthetically and morally satisfying: E. M. W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's History Plays (New York: Macmillan, 1946), pp. 201-2; Emrys Jones, The Origins of Shakespeare (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977), pp. 231, 204. I join their diminishing ranks in this article.

2. Nicholas Machiavelli, The Arte of Warre, trans. Peter Whitchorne (London: 1560), sig. R1.

3. Barbara Tuchman, A Distant Mirror (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978), p. 73.

4. Matthew Sutcliffe, The Practice, Proceedings, and Lawes of Armes (London: Christopher Barker, 1593), pp. 37-38; Onosandro Platonico, Of the General Captaine, and of his Office, trans. P. Whytehorne (London: W. Seres, 1563), sig. B3; Machiavelli, sig. R1^v. William Garrard, The Arte of Warre, corrected by Captain Hitchcock (London: Roger Warde, 1591), p. 145, also prescribes exploiting “the love toward God.”

5. William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Richard the Third, in Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies (London: Isaac Jaggard and Ed. Blount, 1623). Throughout, quotations from Richard III will refer to the First Folio edition and the Through-Line-Numbering system (TLN) adopted by Charlton Hinman for the Norton Facsimile of the First Folio (New York: W. W. Norton, 1968). Kristian Smidt's parallel text edition of The Tragedy of King Richard the Third (New York: Humanities Press, 1969) is an accurate and useful edition of the Folio and Quarto texts.

6. This Q notation indicates lines from the First Quarto of 1597, and will subsequently occur in the text.

7. Machiavelli, sig. R1^v.

8. Sutcliffe, p. 157; Jacques Harault, Politicke, Moral, and Martial Discourses, trans. William Golding (London: Adam Islip, 1595), p. 424.

9. Harault, p. 398.

10. Sutcliffe, p. 157; Garrard, p. 145.

11. Sutcliffe, p. 157; Garrard, p. 145; Machiavelli, sig. R1.

12. Sutcliffe, p. 157; Machiavelli, sig. R1^v; Garrard, p. 145.

13. Garrard, p. 145.

14. Thomas Procter, Of the Knowledge and Conducte of Warres (London: Richardi Tottelli, 1578), sig. K1^v.

15. 1 Henry IV, V.i.134, in William Shakespeare: The Complete Works, ed. Alfred Harbage (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1969).

16. Barnabe Rich, A Path-way to Military Practice (London: John Charlewood, 1587), sig. H2.