# Result number

Work The work is either a play, poem, or sonnet. The sonnets are treated as single work with 154 parts.

Character Indicates who said the line. If it's a play or sonnet, the character name is "Poet."

Line Shows where the line falls within the work.

The numbering is not keyed to any copyrighted numbering system found in a volume of collected works (Arden, Oxford, etc.) The numbering starts at the beginning of the work, and does not restart for each scene.

Text The line's full text, with keywords highlighted within it, unless highlighting has been disabled by the user.

1

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

King Edward IV (Plantagenet)

12

Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham,
Is either slain or wounded dangerously;
I cleft his beaver with a downright blow:
That this is true, father, behold his blood.

2

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Henry VI

56

My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits,
Even in the chair of state: belike he means,
Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer,
To aspire unto the crown and reign as king.
Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father.
And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge
On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends.

3

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Lord Clifford

68

Patience is for poltroons, such as he:
He durst not sit there, had your father lived.
My gracious lord, here in the parliament
Let us assail the family of York.

4

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Duke of Exeter

86

Thy father was a traitor to the crown.

5

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Henry VI

111

What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown?
Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York;
Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March:
I am the son of Henry the Fifth,
Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop
And seized upon their towns and provinces.

6

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester)

120

You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose.
Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head.

7

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

King Edward IV (Plantagenet)

122

Sweet father, do so; set it on your head.

8

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Henry VI

131

Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne,
Wherein my grandsire and my father sat?
No: first shall war unpeople this my realm;
Ay, and their colours, often borne in France,
And now in England to our heart's great sorrow,
Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords?
My title's good, and better far than his.

9

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Henry VI

144

An if he may, then am I lawful king;
For Richard, in the view of many lords,
Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth,
Whose heir my father was, and I am his.

10

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Lord Clifford

166

King Henry, be thy title right or wrong,
Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence:
May that ground gape and swallow me alive,
Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!

11

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Queen Margaret

232

Who can be patient in such extremes?
Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid
And never seen thee, never borne thee son,
Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father
Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus?
Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I,
Or felt that pain which I did for him once,
Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood,
Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there,
Rather than have that savage duke thine heir
And disinherited thine only son.

12

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 1]

Prince Edward

243

Father, you cannot disinherit me:
If you be king, why should not I succeed?

13

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2]

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester)

302

About that which concerns your grace and us;
The crown of England, father, which is yours.

14

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2]

King Edward IV (Plantagenet)

306

Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now:
By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe,
It will outrun you, father, in the end.

15

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2]

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester)

316

An oath is of no moment, being not took
Before a true and lawful magistrate,
That hath authority over him that swears:
Henry had none, but did usurp the place;
Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose,
Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous.
Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown;
Within whose circuit is Elysium
And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.
Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest
Until the white rose that I wear be dyed
Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart.

16

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 2]

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester)

364

Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need:
A woman's general; what should we fear?

17

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 3]

Lord Clifford

379

Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.
As for the brat of this accursed duke,
Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

18

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 3]

Lord Clifford

417

Thy father hath.

19

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 3]

Lord Clifford

425

No cause!
Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.

20

Henry VI, Part III
[I, 4]

Richard Plantagenet (Duke of Gloucester)

436

The army of the queen hath got the field:
My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;
And all my followers to the eager foe
Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind
Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves.
My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them:
But this I know, they have demean'd themselves
Like men born to renown by life or death.
Three times did Richard make a lane to me.
And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!'
And full as oft came Edward to my side,
With purple falchion, painted to the hilt
In blood of those that had encounter'd him:
And when the hardiest warriors did retire,
Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!'
And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!
A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'
With this, we charged again: but, out, alas!
We bodged again; as I have seen a swan
With bootless labour swim against the tide
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
[A short alarum within]
Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue;
And I am faint and cannot fly their fury:
And were I strong, I would not shun their fury:
The sands are number'd that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND,]
PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers]
Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,
I dare your quenchless fury to more rage:
I am your butt, and I abide your shot.