Yorke, and Henrie the Sixt.
618512York. That face of his the hungrie Cannibals
620513Could not haue tucht, would not haue
staind with bloud
621514But you are more inhumaine, more inexorable,
622515O ten times more then Tygers of
Arcadia.
623516See ruthle
sse
Queene a haple
sse fathers teares.
624517This cloth thou dipts in bloud of my
sweet boy,
625518And loe with teares I wa
sh the bloud awaie.
626519Keepe thou the napkin and go boa
st of that,
627520And if thou tell the heauie
storie well,
628521Vpon my
soule the hearers will
sheed teares,
629522I, euen my foes will
sheed fa
st falling teares,
630523And
saie, alas, it was a pitteous deed.
631524Here, take the crowne, and with the crowne my cur
se,
632525And in thy need
such comfort come to thee,
633526As now
I reape at thy tvvo cruell hands.
634527Hard-harted
Clifford, take me from the world,
635528My
soule to heauen, my bloud vpon your heads.
636529North. Had he bin
slaughterman of all my kin,
637530I could not chu
se but weepe with him to
see,
638531How inlie anger gripes his hart.
639532Quee. What weeping ripe, my Lorde
Northumber- 640534Thinke but vpon the wrong he did vs all,
641535And that will quicklie drie your melting tears.
642536Clif. Thears for my oath thears for my fathers death.
644537Queene. And thears to right our gentle harted kind.
645538York. Open thy gates of mercie gratious God,
646539My
soule
flies foorth to meet with thee.
647540Queene. O
ff with his head and
set it on
Yorke Gates,
648541So
Yorke maie ouerlooke the towne of
Yorke.
B3 Enter