Buck.
Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

Sher. ^note
No, my good lord ^note; therefore be patient.

Buck.
Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey ^note,

Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
By underhand corrupted foul injustice,
If that your moody discontented souls
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction!
This is All-Souls' day, fellows ^note, is it not?

Sher. ^note
It is, my lord ^note.

Buck.
Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday ^note.
This is the day that ^note in King Edward's time
I wish'd might fall on ^note me when I was found
False to his children or ^note his wife's allies;
This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall
By the false faith of him I trusted most ^note;
This, this ^note All-Souls' day to my fearful soul
Is ^note the determined respite ^note of my wrongs:
That high ^note All-seer that I ^note dallied with
Hath turn'd my feigned prayer on my head,
And given in earnest what I begg'd in jest.
Thus doth he force the swords ^note of wicked men
To turn their own ^note points on ^note their masters' bosoms ^note:
Now ^note Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head ^note;
‘When he,’ quoth she, ‘shall split thy heart with sorrow,
Remember Margaret was a prophetess.’
Come, sirs, convey me ^note to the block of shame;
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. [Exeunt. ^note

^note

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