All of Shakespeare’s plays.
Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king,
In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
I cannot stay to hear these articles.
Base, fearful and despairing Henry!
Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons,
Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives
Than drops of blood were in my father's veins.
He is both king and Duke of Lancaster;
And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.
What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down:
My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.
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