DUCHESS OF YORK: Either thou wilt die, by God's just ordinance, Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror, Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish And never look upon thy face again. Therefore take with thee my most heavy curse; Which, in the day of battle, tire thee more Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st! My prayers on the adverse party fight; And there the little souls of Edward's children Whisper the spirits of thine enemies And promise them success and victory. Bloody thou art, bloody will be thy end; Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.