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 ruthlesse Queene a haplesse fathers teares.

624517This cloth thou dipts in bloud of my sweet boy,

625518And loe with teares I wash the bloud awaie.

626519Keepe thou the napkin and go boast of that,

627520And if thou tell the heauie storie well,

628521Vpon my soule the hearers will sheed teares,

629522I, euen my foes will sheed fast falling teares,

630523And saie, alas, it was a pitteous deed.

631524Here, take the crowne, and with the crowne my curse,

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 chuse but weepe with him to see,

638531How inlie anger gripes his hart.

639532Quee. What weeping ripe, my Lorde Northumber-

533land?

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. Off with his head and set it on Yorke Gates,

648541So Yorke maie ouerlooke the towne of Yorke.

B3 Enter