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Result number
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Work
The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets
are treated as single work with 154 parts.
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Character
Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet,
the character name is "Poet."
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Line
Shows where the line falls within the work.
The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of
collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not
restart for each scene.
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Text
The line's full text, with keywords highlighted
within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.
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1 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Richard III (Duke of Gloucester) |
18 |
Speak thou for me and tell them what I did.
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2 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Earl of Westmoreland |
65 |
What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down:
My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.
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3 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Henry VI |
111 |
What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March:
I am the son of Henry the Fifth,
Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop
And seized upon their towns and provinces.
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4 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Henry VI |
141 |
[Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.—
Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?
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5 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
143 |
What then?
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6 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
171 |
Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown.
What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?
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7 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Lord Clifford |
185 |
What wrong is this unto the prince your son!
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8 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Earl of Warwick |
186 |
What good is this to England and himself!
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9 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1] |
Queen Margaret |
247 |
Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced?
I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch!
Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me;
And given unto the house of York such head
As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance.
To entail him and his heirs unto the crown,
What is it, but to make thy sepulchre
And creep into it far before thy time?
Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais;
Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas;
The duke is made protector of the realm;
And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds
The trembling lamb environed with wolves.
Had I been there, which am a silly woman,
The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes
Before I would have granted to that act.
But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour:
And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself
Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed,
Until that act of parliament be repeal'd
Whereby my son is disinherited.
The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours
Will follow mine, if once they see them spread;
And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace
And utter ruin of the house of York.
Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away;
Our army is ready; come, we'll after them.
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10 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
298 |
Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife?
What is your quarrel? how began it first?
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11 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
301 |
About what?
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12 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
329 |
Richard, enough; I will be king, or die.
Brother, thou shalt to London presently,
And whet on Warwick to this enterprise.
Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk,
And tell him privily of our intent.
You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham,
With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise:
In them I trust; for they are soldiers,
Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit.
While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more,
But that I seek occasion how to rise,
And yet the king not privy to my drift,
Nor any of the house of Lancaster?
[Enter a Messenger]
But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post?
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13 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
348 |
Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them?
Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me;
My brother Montague shall post to London:
Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest,
Whom we have left protectors of the king,
With powerful policy strengthen themselves,
And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths.
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14 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
363 |
What, with five thousand men?
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15 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2] |
Richard III (Duke of Gloucester) |
364 |
Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need:
A woman's general; what should we fear?
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16 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 4] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
436 |
The army of the queen hath got the field:
My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
And all my followers to the eager foe
Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind
Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves.
My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them:
But this I know, they have demean'd themselves
Like men born to renown by life or death.
Three times did Richard make a lane to me.
And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!'
And full as oft came Edward to my side,
With purple falchion, painted to the hilt
In blood of those that had encounter'd him:
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!'
And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'
With this, we charged again: but, out, alas!
We bodged again; as I have seen a swan
With bootless labour swim against the tide
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
[A short alarum within]
Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue;
And I am faint and cannot fly their fury:
And were I strong, I would not shun their fury:
The sands are number'd that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND,]
PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers]
Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:
I am your butt, and I abide your shot.
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17 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 4] |
Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester) |
473 |
My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth
A bird that will revenge upon you all:
And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven,
Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.
Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear?
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18 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 4] |
Earl of Northumberland |
492 |
Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much
To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart:
What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,
For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,
When he might spurn him with his foot away?
It is war's prize to take all vantages;
And ten to one is no impeach of valour.
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19 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 4] |
Earl of Northumberland |
504 |
What would your grace have done unto him now?
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20 |
Henry VI, Part III
[I, 4] |
Queen Margaret |
505 |
Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,
Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,
That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,
Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.
What! was it you that would be England's king?
Was't you that revell'd in our parliament,
And made a preachment of your high descent?
Where are your mess of sons to back you now?
The wanton Edward, and the lusty George?
And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,
Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice
Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?
Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?
Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood
That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point,
Made issue from the bosom of the boy;
And if thine eyes can water for his death,
I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.
Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly,
I should lament thy miserable state.
I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York.
What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails
That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?
Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad;
And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.
Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.
Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport:
York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown.
A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him:
Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on.
[Putting a paper crown on his head]
Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king!
Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair,
And this is he was his adopted heir.
But how is it that great Plantagenet
Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath?
As I bethink me, you should not be king
Till our King Henry had shook hands with death.
And will you pale your head in Henry's glory,
And rob his temples of the diadem,
Now in his life, against your holy oath?
O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable!
Off with the crown, and with the crown his head;
And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead.
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