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Not that I fear to stay, but love to go

Your father's head, which Clifford placed there : Whither the queen intends. Forward; away!

Instead whereof, let this supply the room; [Excunt. Measure for measure must be answered.

Edw. Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our SCENE VI. - The same.

house, A loud Alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded. That nothing sung but death to us and ours : Clif. Here burns my candle out, ay, here it dies, Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, Which, wbile it lasted, gave king Henry light.

And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. 0, Lancaster! I fear thy overthrow,

[ Allendants bring the Body forward. More than my body's parting with my soul.

War. I think his understanding is berett :My love, and fear, glu'd many friends to thee;

Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speakstothee?And now I fall, thy tough commixtures melt.

Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, Impairing Henry, strength’ning mis-proud York,

And he nor sees, nor hears us what we say. The common people swarm like summer flies :

Rich. O, 'would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth; And whither fly the gnats, but to the sun ?

'Tis but his policy to counterfeit,

Because he would avoid such bitter taunts,
And who shines now but Henry's enemies ?
O Phoebus ! hadst thou never given consent

Which in the time of death he gave our father. That Phaeton should check thy fiery steeds,

Gen. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager

words. 6 Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth : And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do,

Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace. Or as thy father, and his father did,

Edw. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. Giving no ground unto the house of York,

War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. They never then had sprung like summer flies;

Gen. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults, I, and ten thousand in this luckless realm,

Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. Had left no mourning widows for our death,

Edw. Thou pitied’st Rutland, I will pity thee. And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace.

Geo. Where's captain Margaret, to fence you now? For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air ?

War. They mock thee, Clifford! swear as thou

wast wont. And what makes robbers bold, but too much lenity? Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds;

Rich. What, not an oath? nay then the world No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight:

goes hard, The foe is merciless, and will not pity;

When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath: For, at their hands, I have deserv'd no pity.

I know by that, he's dead; And, by my soul, The air hath got into my deadly wounds,

If this right hand would buy two hours' life, And much effuse of blood doth make me faint :

That I in all despite might rail at him, Come, York, and Richard, Warwick, and the rest; This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing

blood 1 stabb’d your fathers' bosoms, split my breast.

[He faints.

Stifle the villain, whose unstaunched thirst

York and young Rutland could not satisfy. Alarum and Retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE,

War. Ay, but he's dead: Off with the traitor's head, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers.

And rear it in the place your father's stands. Edw. Now breathe we, lords ; good fortune bids And now to London with triumphant march, us pause,

There to be crowned England's royal king; And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France, Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen ; And ask the lady Bona for thy queen : That led calm Henry, though he were a king, So shalt thou sinew both these lands together ; As doth a sail, fillid with a fretting gust,

And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not drcad Command an argosy to stem the waves.

The scatter'd foe, that hopes to rise again; But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them ? For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt,

War. No, 'tis impossible he should escape: Yet look to have them buz, to offend thine ears. For, though before his face I speak the words, First, will I see the coronation ; Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave : And then to Britany I'll cross the sea, And, wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead.

To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. [CLIFFORD groans and dies. Edw. Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be: Edw. Whose soul is that which takes her heavy For on thy shoulder do I build my seat; leave?

And never will I undertake the thing, Rich. A deadly groan, like life and death's de- Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. parting.

Richard, I will create thee duke of Gloster ; Edw. See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, And George, of Clarence -- Warwick, as ourself, If friend, or foe, let him be gently us’d.

Shall do, and undo, as him pleaseth best.
Rich. Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; Rich. Let me be duke of Clarence; George, of
Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch

In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, For Gloster's dukedom is too ominous.
But set his murdering knife unto the root

War. Tut, that's a foolish observation ;
From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, Richard be duke of Gloster : Now to London,
I mean our princely father, duke of York.

To see these honours in possession. (Exeunt. War. From off the gates of York fetch down the head,

Sour words: words of asperity.

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fee :

SCENE I. - A Chase in the North of England. 2 Keep. Say, what art thou, that talk'st of kings

and queens? Enter two Keepers, wuh Cross-bows in their Hands.

K. Hen. More than I seem, and less than I was 1 keep. Under this thick-grown brake we'll

born to :
shroud ourselves;

A man at least, for less I should not be ;
For through this laund 7 anon the deer will come; And men may talk of kings, and why not I ?
And in this covert will we make our stand,

2 Keep. Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. Culling the principal of all the deer.

K. Hen. Why, so I am, in mind; and that's 2 keep. l'll stay above the hill, so both


1 Keep. That cannot be; the noise of thy cross- 2 Keep. But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?

K. Hen. My crown is in my heart, not on my head;
Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. Not deck'd with diamonds, and Indian stones,
Here stand we both, and aim we at the best : Nor to be seen : my crown is call’d, content :
And, for the time shall not seem tedious,

A crown it is, that seldom kings enjoy.
I'll tell thee what befell me on a day,

2 keep. Well, if you be a king crown'd with In this self-place where now we mean to stand.

2 keep. Here comes a man, let's stay till he be Your crown content, and you, must be contented

To go along with us: for, as we think,
Enter King Henry, disguised, wilh a Prayer-book. You are the king, king Edward hath depos'd;
K. Hen. From Scotland am I stol’n, even of pure will apprehend you as his enemy.

And we his subjects, sworn in all allegiance,
To greet mine own land with my wishful sight.

K. Hen. But did you never swear, and break an

oath? No Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; Thy place is fill'd, thy scepter wrung from thee,

2 Keep. No, never such an oath, nor will not now. Thy balm wash'd off, wherewith thou wast anointed :

K. Hen. Where did you dwell, when I was king No bending knee will call thee Cæsar now,

of England ? No humble suitors press to speak for right,

2 Keep. Here in this country, where we now

remain. No, not a man comes for redress of thee, For how can I help them, and not myself?

K. Hen. I was anointed king at nine months old; i Keep. Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's And you were sworn true subjects unto me:

My father and my grandfather, were kings; This is the quondam king ; let's seize upon him.

And, tell me then, have you not broke your oattis ? K. Hen. Let me embrace these sour adversities :

1 Keep. No; For wise men say, it is the wisest course.

For we were subjects but while you were king. 2 Keep. Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.

K. Hen. Why, am I dead ? do I not breathe a

1 Keep. Forbear a while: we'll hear a little more.
K. Hen. My queen and son, are gone to France Look, as I blow this feather from my face,

Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear

And as the air blows it to me again,
And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister

Obeying with my wind when I do blow,
To wife for Edward : If this news be true,

And yielding to another when it blows,
Poor queen, and son, your labour is but lost;

Commanded always by the greater gust;
For Warwick is a subtle orator,

Such is the lightness of you common men.
And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words.

But do not break your oaths; for, of that sin
By this account, then, Margaret may win him ;

My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty.
For she's a woman to be pitied much :

Go where you will, the king shall be commanded;
Her sighs will make a battery in his breast;

And be you kings ; command and I'll obey.
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart;

1 K’eep. We are true subjects to the king, king

The tiger will be mild, while she doth mourn;
And Nero will be tainted with remorse,

K. Hen. So would you be again to Henry,
To hear, and see, her plaints, her brinish tears.

If he were seated as king Edward is.
Ay, but she's come to beg; Warwick, to give :

1 keep. We charge you in God's name, and in

the king's,
She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry;
He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward.

To go with us unto the officers.
She weeps, and says her Henry is depos'd;

K. Hen. In God's name lead; your king's name
He smiles, and says - his Edward is installid;

be obey'd : That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more :

And what God will, then let your king perform ;
Whiles Warwick tells his titles, smoothis the wrong,

And what he will, I humbly yield unto. (Ereunt.
Inferreth arguments of mighty strength;
And, in conclusion, wins the king from her, SCENE II. — London. A Room in the Palace.
With pron ise of his sister, and what else,
To strengthen and support king Edward's place.

Enter King EDWARD, GLOSTER, CLARENCE, and ( Margaret, thus 'twill be ; and thou, poor soul,

Lady Grey.
Art then forsaken as thou went'st forlorn.

K. Edw. Brother of Gloster, at Saint Albans'field 7 A plain extended between wcods.

This lady's husband, sir John Grey, was slain,

LI 4

for aid ;


you did.

tell me.

and me.

His lands then seiz'd on by the conqueror :

I. Grıy. I take my leave with many thousand Her suit is now, to repossess those lands;

thanks. Which we in justice cannot well deny,

Glo. The match is made; she seals it with a curt'sy. Because in quarrel of the house of York

K. Edw. But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love ! The worthy gentleman did lose his life.

Glo. Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; L. Grey. The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. It were dishonour, to deny it her.

K. Edw. Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. K. Edw. It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. What love, think’st thou, I sue so much to get? Glo. Yea! is it so ?

L. Grey. My love till death, my humble thanks, I see, the lady hath a thing to grant,

my prayers; Before the king will grant her humble suit. That love, which virtue begs, and virtue grants. Cla. He knows the game; How true he keeps K. Edw. No, by my troth, I did not mean such the wind ?

[ Aside.

love. Glo. Silence !


L. Grey. Why then you mean not as I thought K. Edw. Widow, we will consider of your suit; And come some other time, to know our mind. K. Edw. But now you partly may perceive my L. Grey. Right gracious lord, I cannot brook

mind. delay :

L. Grey. My mind will never grant what I perceive May it please your highness to resolve me now; Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me.

K. Edw. Why, then thou shalt not have thy Glo. [Aside.] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant you

husband's lands. all your lands,

L. Grey. Why, then mine honesty shall be my An if what pleases him, shall pleasure you.

dower; K. Edw. How many children hast thou, widow ? For by that loss I will not purchase them.

K. Edw. Therein thou wrong'st thy children L. Grey. Three, my most gracious lord.

mightily. K. Edw. 'Twere pity they should lose their father's L. Grey. Herein your highness wrongs both them

land, L. Grey. Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. But, mighty lord, this merry inclination K. Edw. Lords, give us leave; I'll try this Accords not with the sadness of my suit; widow's wit.

Please you, dismiss me, either with ay, or no. Glo. Ay, good leave have you;

you will have

K. Edw. Ay; if thou wilt say ay, to niy request: leave,

No; if thou dost say no, to my demand. Till youth take leave, and leave you to the crutch. L. Grey. Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end.

[Gloster and Clarence relire to the Glo. The widow likes him not; she knits her other side.


(Aside. K. Edw. Now tell me, madam, do you love your Clar. He is the bluntest wooer in Christendom. children?

[ Aside. L. Grey. Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. K. Edw. [ Aside.) Her looks do argue her replete K. Edw. And would you not do much to do them

with modesty ; good ?

Her words do show her wit imcomparable ; L. Grey. To do them good, I would sustain some All her perfections challenge sovereignty: harm.

One way, or other, she is for a king; K. Edw. Then get your husband's lands, to do And she shall be my love, or else iny queen. them good.

Say, that king Edward take thee for his queen ? L. Grey. Therefore I came unto your majesty. L. Grey. 'Tis better said than done, my gracious K. Edw. I'll tell you how these lands are to be got.

lord: L. Grey. So shall you bind me to your highness' I am a subject fit to jest withal, service.

But far unfit to be a sovereign. K. Edw. What service wilt thou do

me, if I give K. Edw. Sweet widow, by my state I swear to them?

thee, L. Grey. What you command, that rests in me I speak no more than what my soul intends; to do.

And that is to enjoy thee for my love. K. Edw. But you will take exceptions to my boon. 1. Grey. And that is more than I will yield unto. L. Grey. No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. I know, I am too mean to be your queen ; K. Edw. Ay, but thou canst do what I mean And yet too good to be your concubine. to ask.

K. Edw. You cavil, widow; I did mean my queen. L. Grey. Why, then I will do what your grace L. Grey. 'Twill grieve your grace, my sons commands.

should call you — father. Glo. He plies her hard; and much rain wears K. Edw. No more, than when thy daughters call the marble.

[ Aside.

thee mother. Clar. As red as fire ! nay, then her wax must Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. melt.

(Asicle. Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. L. Grey. Why stops my lord ? shall I not hear Glo. The widow likes it not, for she looks sad.

K. Edw. You'd think it strange if I should marry K. Edw. An easy task : 'tis but to love a king.

her. L. Grey. That's soon perform’d, because I am a Clar. To whom, my lord ? subject.

K. Edw.

Why, Clarence, to myself. K. Edw. Why then, thy husband's lands I freely Glo. That would be ten days' wonder, at the least give thee.

Clar. That's a day longer than a wonder lasts.

my task ?


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Glo. By so much is the wonder in extremes. Torment myself to catch the English crown: K. Edw. Well, jest on, brothers, I can tell you And from that torment I will free myself, both,

Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile;

And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart Enter a Nobleman.

And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, Nob. My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, And frame my face to all occasions. And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; K. Edw. See that he be convey'd unto the I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; Tower.

I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, To question of his apprehension.

And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. Widow, go you along ; lords, use her honourable. I can add colours to the cameleon ;

(Ereunt King Edward, Lady Grey, Change shapes, with Proteus, for advantages, CLARENCE, and Lord.

And set the murd'rous Machiavel to school. Glo. Ay, Edward will use women honourably. Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? 'Would he were wasted, marrow, bones, and all, Tut! were it further off, I'd pluck it down. (Ext. That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, To cross me from the golden time I look for! SCENE III. France. A Room in the Palace. And yet, between my soul's desire and me, (The lustful Edward's title buried,)

Flourish. Enter Lewis the French King, and Lady Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward,

Bona, attended ; the King takes his state. Then And all the unlook'd-for issue of their bodies,

enter Queen MARGARET, Prince Edward her To take their rooms, ere I can place myself:

Son, and the Earl of Oxford. A cold premeditation for my purpose !

K. Lew. Fair queen of England, worthy MarWhy, then I do but dream on sovereignty ;


[Rising. Like one that stands upon a promontory,

Sit down with us; it ill befits thy state, And spies a far-offshore where he would tread, And birth, that thou shouldst stand, while Lewis Wishing his foot were equal with his eye ;

doth sit. And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, Q. Mar. No, mighty king of France; now MarSaying - he'll lade it dry to have his way:

garet So do I wish the crown, being so far off ;.

Must strike her sail, and learn a while to serve, And so I chide the means that keep me from it; Where kings command. I was, I must confess, And so I say — I'll cut the causes off,

Great Albion's queen in former golden days : Flattering me with impossibilities.

But now mischance hath trod my title down, My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, And with dishonour laid me on the ground, Unless my hand and strength could equal them. Where I must take like seat unto my fortune, Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard ; And to my humble seat conform myself. What other pleasure can the world afford ?

K. Lew. Why, say, fair queen, whence springs I'll deck my body in gay ornaments,

this deep despair ? And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. Q. Mar. From such a cause as fills mine eyes O miserable thought! and more unlikely, Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns ! And stops my tongue, wbile heart is drown'd in Why, love foreswore me in my mother's womb :

cares. And for I should not deal in her soft laws

K. Lew. Whate'er it be, be thou still like thyself, She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe And sit thee by our side : yield not thy neck To sbrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub;

(Seats her by him. To make an envious mountain on my back; To fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Where sits deformity to mock my body;

Still ride in triumph over all mischance. To shape my legs of an unequal size;

Be plain, queen Margaret, and tell thy grief; To disproportion me in every part,

It shall be eas'd, if France can yield relief. Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp,

Q. Mar. Those gracious words revive my droopThat carries no impression like the dam.

ing thoughts, And am I then a man to be belov'd ?

And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak. O, monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis, Then, since this earth affords no joy to me,

That Henry, sole possessor of my love, But to command, to check, to o'erbear such Is, of a king, become a banish'd man, As are of better person than myself,

And forc'd to live in Scotland a forlorn ; I'll make my heaven - to dream upon the crown; While proud ambitious Edward duke of York, And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell, Usurps the regal title, and the seat Until my mis-shap'd trunk, that bears this head, Of England's true-anointed lawful king. Be round impaled 8 with a glorious crown.

This is the cause, that I, poor Margaret, And yet I know not how to get the crown, With this my son, prince Edward, Henry's For many lives stand between me and home :

heir, And I, – like one lost in a thorny wood,

Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid ; That rents the thorns, and is rent with the thorns; And, if thou fail us, all our hope is done : Seeking a way, and straying from the way; Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help; Not knowing how to find the open air,

Our people and our peers are both misled But toiling desperately to find it out,

Our treasure seiz’d, our soldiers put to foight, 8 Encircled.

And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.

with tears,

our foe.

K. Lew. Renowned queen, with patience calm 0.rf. Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against they the storm,

liege, While we bethink a means to break it off.

Whom thou obeyedst thirty and six years, Q. Mar. The more we stay, the stronger grows And not bewray thy treason with a blushi?

War. Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right, K. Lew. The more I stay, the more I'll succour thee. Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree?

Q. Mur. O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow: For shame, leave Henry, and call Edward king. And see, where comes the breeder of my sorrow. 01f. Call him my king, by whose injurious doom

My elder brother, the lord Aubrey Vere,
Enter WARWICK, atlended.

Was done to death ? and more than so my father, K. Lew. What's he, approacheth boldly to our

Even in the downfall of his mellow'd years, presence ?

When nature brought him to the door of death? Q. Mar. Our earl of Warwick, Edward's greatest No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm, friend.

This arm upholds the house of Lancaster. K. Lew. Welcome, brave Warwick ! What brings War. And I the house of York. thee to France ?

K. Lew. Queen Margaret, prince Edward, and [Descending from his state. QUEEN MARGARET

Oxford, rises.

Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside, Q. Mar. Ay, now begins a second storm to rise ; While I use further conference with Warwick. For this is he, that moves both wind and tide.

Q. Mar. Heaven grant that Warwick's words War. From worthy Edward, king of Albion,

bewitch him not! My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend,

(Retiring with the Prince and OXFORD. I come, in kindness, and unfeigned love,

K. Lew. Now, Warwick, tell me, even upon thy First, to do greetings to thy royal person;

conscience, And, then, to crave a league of amity;

Is Edward your true king? for I were loath, And, lastly, to confirm that amity

To link with him that were not lawful chosen. With nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant

War. Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour. That virtuous lady Bona, thy fair sister,

K. Lew. But is he gracious in the people's eye? To England's king in lawful marriage.

War. The more, that Henry was unfortunate. Q. Mar. If that go forward, Henry's hope is done. K. Lew. Then further, -- all dissembling set aside, War. And, gracious madam, [ To Bona.] in our Tell me for truth the measure of his love king's behalf,

Unto our sister Bona, I am commanded, with your leave and favour,


Such it seems,
Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue As may beseem a monarch like himself.
To tell the passion of my sovereign's heart : Myself have often heard him say, and swear,
Where fame, late entering at his heedful ears,

That this his love was an eternal plant;
Hath plac'd thy beauty's image, and thy virtue. Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground,
Q. Mar. King Lewis, — and lady Bona, - hear The leaves and fruit maintain'd with beauty's sun
me speak,

Exempt from envy, but not from disdain, Before you answer Warwick. His demand Unless the lady Bona quit luis pain. Springs not from Edward's well-meant honest love, K. Lew. Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve. But from deceit, bred by necessity;

Bona. Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine • For how can tyrants safely govern bome,

Yet I confess, (To War.) that often ere this day, Unless abroad they purchase great alliance ? When I have heard your king's desert recounted, To prove hiin tyrant, this reason may suffice,- Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire. That Henry liveth still: but were he dead,

K. Lew. Then, Warwick, thus, Our sister shall Yet here prince Edward stands, king Henry's son.

be Edward's; Look therefore, Lewis, that by this league and mar- And now forthwith shall articles be drawn riage

Touching the jointure that your king must make, Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour : Which with her dowry shall be counterpois'd : For though usurpers sway the rule awhile,

Draw near, queen Margaret; and be a witness, Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.

That Bona shall be wife to the English king. War. Injurious Margaret.

Prince. To Edward, but not to the English king. Prince.

And why not queen ? Q. Mar. Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device War. Because thy father Henry did usurp; By this alliance to make void my suit; And thou no more art prince, than she is queen. Before thy coming, Lewis was Henry's friend.

Orf. Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt, K. Lew. And still is friend to him and Margaret.
Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain; But if your title to the crown be weak,
And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth, As may appear by Edward's good success,
Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest;

Then 'tis but reason, that I be releas'd
And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth, From giving aid, which late I promised.
Who by his prowess conquered all France: Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand,
From these our Henry lincally descends.

That your estate requires, and mine can yield.
War. Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse, War. Henry now lives in Scotland, at his ease;
You told not, how Henry the Sixth hath lost Where having nothing, nothing he can lose.
All that which Henry the Fifth had gotten ? And as for you yourself, our quondam queen,
Methinks, these peers of France should smile at that. You have a father able to maintain you;
But for the rest, You tell a pedigree

And better 'twere you troubled him than France. Of threescore and two years; a silly time

Q. Mar. Peace, impudent and shameless War To make prescription for a kingdom's worth.

wick, peace;

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