Reading The Tragedy of Richard the Third — William Shakespeare

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Section 189

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Rich.

The Curse my □□□le Father layd on thee,

When thou didst Crown his Warlike Brows with Paper,

And with thy scornes drew'st Riuers from his eyes,

And then to dry the□, gau'st the Duke a Clowt,

Steep'd in the fault□□□e blood of prettie Rutland:

His Curses then, from bitternesse of Soule,

Denounc'd against thee, are all falne vpon thee:

And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.

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