K. Hen. May I with right and conscience make this claim?
Cant. (R.C.) The sin upon my head, dread sovereign!
For in the book of Numbers is it writ,—
When the son dies, let the inheritance
Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord,
Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag;
Look back unto your mighty ancestors:
Go, my dread lord, to your great grandsire’s tomb,
From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit,
And your great uncle’s, Edward the black prince,