Henry VI, Part iii: Act I, Scene iv First Folio


Henry VI, Part iii.        Act 1, Scene 4.      Queen Margaret

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529  Braue Warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, 
530  Come make him stand vpon this Mole-hill here,
531  That raught at Mountaines with out-stretched Armes,
532  Yet parted but the shadow with his Hand.
533  What, was it you that would be Englands King? 
534  Was't you that reuell'd in our Parliament,
535  And made a Preachment of your high Descent?
536  Where are your Messe of Sonnes, to back you now?
537  The wanton Edward, and the lustie George?
538  And where's that valiant Crook-back Prodigie.
539  Dickie, your Boy, that with his grumbling voyce
540  Was wont to cheare his Dad in Mutinies?
541  Or with the rest, where is your Darling, Rutland?
542  Looke Yorke, I stayn'd this Napkin with the blood
543  That valiant Clifford, with his Rapiers point,
544  Made issue from the Bosome of the Boy:
545  And if thine eyes can water for his death,
546  I giue thee this to drie thy Cheekes withall.
547  Alas poore Yorke, but that I hate thee deadly,
548  I should lament thy miserable state.
549  I prythee grieue, to make me merry, Yorke.
550  What, hath thy fierie heart so parcht thine entrayles,
551  That not a Teare can fall, for Rutlands death?
552  Why art thou patient, man? thou should'st be mad:
553  And I, to make thee mad, doe mock thee thus.
554  Stampe, raue, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
555  Thou would'st be fee'd, I see, to make me sport:
556  Yorke cannot speake, vnlesse he weare a Crowne.
557  A Crowne for Yorke; and Lords, bow lowe to him:
558  Hold you his hands, whilest I doe set it on.
559  I marry Sir, now lookes he like a King:
560  I, this is he that tooke King Henries Chaire,
561  And this is he was his adopted Heire.
562  But how is it, that great Plantagenet
563  Is crown'd so soone, and broke his solemne Oath?
564  As I bethinke me, you should not be King,
565  Till our King Henry had shooke hands with Death.
566  And will you pale your head in Henries Glory,
567  And rob his Temples of the Diademe,
568  Now in his Life, against your holy Oath?
569  Oh 'tis a fault too too vnpardonable.
570  Off with the Crowne; and with the Crowne, his Head,
571  And whilest we breathe, take time to doe him dead.

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