Mess monologue — King Henry VI, Part 3

Enuironed he was with many foes, And stood against them, as the hope of Troy Against the Greekes, that would haue entred Troy. But Hercules himselfe must yeeld to oddes: And many stroakes, though with a little Axe, Hewes downe and fells the hardest-tymber'd Oake. By many hands your Father was subdu'd, But onely slaught'red by the irefull Arme Of vn-relenting Clifford, and the Queene: Who crown'd the gracious Duke in high despight, Laugh'd in his face: and when with griefe he wept, The ruthlesse Queene gaue him, to dry his Cheekes, A Napkin, steeped in the harmelesse blood Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slaine: And after many scornes, many foule taunts, They tooke his Head, and on the Gates of Yorke They set the same, and there it doth remaine, The saddest spectacle that ere I view'd