Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Edward. much.
Richard. Richard.
Richard. Say how he dy'de, for I will heare it all.
Mess. Mess.
Mess. Enuironed he was with many foes,
Mess. And stood against them, as the hope of Troy
Mess. Against the Greekes, that would haue entred Troy.
Mess. But Hercules himselfe must yeeld to oddes:
Mess. And many stroakes, though with a little Axe,
Mess. Hewes downe and fells the hardest‑tymber'd Oake.
Mess. By many hands your Father was subdu'd,
Mess. But onely slaught'red by the irefull Arme
Mess. Of vn‑relenting Clifford, and the Queene:
Mess. Who crown'd the gracious Duke in high despight,
Mess. Laugh'd in his face: and when with griefe he wept,
Mess. The ruthlesse Queene gaue him, to dry his Cheekes,
Mess. A Napkin, steeped in the harmelesse blood
Mess. Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slaine:
Mess. And after many scornes, many foule taunts,
Mess. They tooke his Head, and on the Gates of Yorke