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| | Queen Mary and Harold Story (Site not responding. Last check: 2007-10-17) |
 | | Wherefore now the Queen In this low pulse and palsy of the state, Bad me to tell you that she counts on you And on myself as her two hands; on you, In your own city, as her right, my Lord, For you are loyal. |
 | | The Queen had written her word to come to court: Methought I smelt out Renard in the letter, And fearing for her, sent a secret missive, Which told her to be sick. |
 | | A missive from the Queen: last time she wrote, I had like to have lost my life: it takes my breath: O God, sir, do you look upon your boots, Are you so small a man? Help me: what think you, Is it life or death. |
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