[230] Both. Ay, so we will.
Clar. Tell him, when that our princely father York
Bless’d his three sons with his victorious arm,
[♦] And charged us from his soul to love each other,
He little thought of this divided friendship:
[235] Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep.
[♦] First Murd. Ay, millstones; as he lesson’d us to weep.
Clar. O, do not slander him, for he is kind.
[♦] First Murd. Right,
[♦] As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself: