An. Why then he is aliue
Rich. Nay, he is dead, and slaine by Edwards hands
An. In thy foule throat thou Ly'st,
Queene Margaret saw
Thy murd'rous Faulchion smoaking in his blood:
The which, thou once didd'st bend against her brest,
But that thy Brothers beate aside the point
Rich. I was prouoked by her sland'rous tongue,
That laid their guilt, vpon my guiltlesse Shoulders
An. Thou was't prouoked by thy bloody minde,
That neuer dream'st on ought but Butcheries:
Did'st thou not kill this King?
Rich. I graunt ye
An. Do'st grant me Hedge-hogge,
Then God graunt me too
Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deede,
O he was gentle, milde, and vertuous
Rich. The better for the King of heauen that hath him
An. He is in heauen, where thou shalt neuer come
Rich. Let him thanke me, that holpe to send him thither:
For he was fitter for that place then earth
An. And thou vnfit for any place, but hell