Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. The lustfull Edwards Title buryed,
Rich. Is Clarence, Henry, and his Sonne young Edward,
Rich. And all the vnlook'd‑for Issue of their Bodies,
Rich. To take their Roomes, ere I can place my selfe:
Rich. A cold premeditation for my purpose.
Rich. Why then I doe but dreame on Soueraigntie,
Rich. Like one that stands vpon a Promontorie,
Rich. And spyes a farre‑off shore, where hee would tread,
Rich. Wishing his foot were equall with his eye,
Rich. And chides the Sea, that sunders him from thence,
Rich. Saying, hee'le lade it dry, to haue his way:
Rich. So doe I wish the Crowne, being so farre off,
Rich. And so I chide the meanes that keepes me from it,
Rich. And so (I say) Ile cut the Causes off,
Rich. Flattering me with impossibilities:
Rich. My Eyes too quicke, my Heart o're‑weenes too much,
Rich. Vnlesse my Hand and Strength could equall them.
Rich. Well, say there is no Kingdome then for Richard:
Rich. What other Pleasure can the World affoord?
Rich. Ile make my Heauen in a Ladies Lappe,