Speeches (Lines) for Girl
in "Richard III"
Total: 3

1

II,2,1275

Boy. Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast,
And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!'

Girl. Why do you look on us, and shake your head,
And call us wretches, orphans, castaways
If that our noble father be alive?

2

II,2,1286

Boy. Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead.
The king my uncle is to blame for this:
God will revenge it; whom I will importune
With daily prayers all to that effect.

Girl. And so will I.

3

II,2,1336

Boy. Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death;
How can we aid you with our kindred tears?

Girl. Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd;
Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept!