Reading The third Part of Henry the Sixt, with the death of the Duke of Yorke

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Section 196

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Hold Clifford, doe not honor him so much,

To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart.

What valour were it, when a Curre doth grinne,

For one to thrust his Hand betweene his Teeth,

When he might spurne him with his Foot away?

It is Warres prize, to take all Vantages,

And tenne to one, is no impeach of Valour.

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