FAU. By the rood, the Prince says true;
Here is a statute from the Confessor[485].
HEN. The Confessor was but a simple fool.
Away with books; my word shall be a law,
Gloster shall die.
LEI. Let Gloster die the death.
LAN. Leicester, he shall not;
He shall have law, despite of him and thee.
HEN. What law? will you be traitors? what's the law?
RICH. His right hand's loss; and that is such a loss,
As England may lament, all Christians weep.
That hand hath been advanc'd against the Moors,
Driven out the Saracens from Gad's[486] and Sicily,
Fought fifteen battles under Christ's red cross;
And is it not, think you, a grievous loss,
That for a slave (and for no other harm)
It should be sundred from his princely arm?
FAU. More for example, noble Lancaster;
But 'tis great pity too—too great a pity.
HEN. I'll have his hand and head.
RICH. Thou shalt have mine, then.
QUEEN. Well said, stubborn Dick, Jack would not
Serve me so, were the boy here.