See how my sword weeps for the poor king’s death!
O, may such purple tears be alway shed
65 From those that wish the downfall of our house!
If any spark of life be yet remaining,
Down, down to hell; and say I sent thee thither: [Stabs him again.
I, that have neither pity, love, nor fear.
Indeed, ’tis true that Henry told me of;
70 For I have often heard my mother say
I came into the world with my legs forward:
Had I not reason, think ye, to make haste,