Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Suff. And here commit you to my Lord Cardinall
Suff. To keepe, vntill your further time of Tryall.
King. King.
King. My Lord of Gloster, 'tis my speciall hope,
King. That you will cleare your selfe from all suspence,
King. My Conscience tells me you are innocent.
Glost. Glost.
Glost. Ah gracious Lord, these dayes are dangerous:
Glost. Vertue is choakt with foule Ambition,
Glost. And Charitie chas'd hence by Rancours hand;
Glost. Foule Subornation is predominant,
Glost. And Equitie exil'd your Highnesse Land.
Glost. I know, their Complot is to haue my Life:
Glost. And if my death might make this Iland happy,
Glost. And proue the Period of their Tyrannie,
Glost. I would expend it with all willingnesse.
Glost. But mine is made the Prologue to their Play:
Glost. For thousands more, that yet suspect no perill,
Glost. Will not conclude their plotted Tragedie.
Glost. Beaufords red sparkling eyes blab his hearts mallice,