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

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Section 333

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Fa.

Thou that so stoutly hath resisted me,

Giue me thy Gold, if thou hast any Gold:

For I haue bought it with an hundred blowes.

But let me see: Is this our Foe‑mans face?

Ah, no, no, no, it is mine onely Sonne.,

Ah Boy, if any life be left in thee,

Throw vp thine eye: see, see, what showres arise,

Blowne with the windie Tempest of my heart,

Vpon thy wounds, that killes mine Eye, and Heart.

O pitty God, this miserable Age!

What Stragems? how fell? how Butcherly?

Erreoneous, mutinous, and vnnaturall,

This deadly quarrell daily doth beget?

O Boy! thy Father gaue thee life too soone,

And hath bereft thee of thy life too late.

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