[♦] That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.
I am with child, ye bloody homicides:
Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent death.
65 York. Now heaven forfend! the holy maid with child!
[♦] War. The greatest miracle that e’er ye wrought:
Is all your strict preciseness come to this?
York. She and the Dauphin have been juggling:
I did imagine what would be her refuge.
[70] War. Well, go to; we’ll have no bastards live;