BUCKINGHAM: Why, then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday. This is the day that, in King Edward's time, I wish't might fall on me, when I was found False to his children or his wife's allies This is the day wherein I wish'd to fall By the false faith of him I trusted most; This, this All-Souls' day to my fearful soul Is the determined respite of my wrongs: That high All-Seer that I 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 of wicked men To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms: Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head; 'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow, Remember Margaret was a prophetess.' Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.