Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Marg. Must strike her sayle, and learne a while to serue,
Marg. Where Kings command. I was (I must confesse)
Marg. Great Albions Queene, in former Golden dayes:
Marg. But now mischance hath trod my Title downe,
Marg. And with dis‑honor layd me on the ground,
Marg. Where I must take like Seat vnto my fortune,
Marg. And to my humble Seat conforme my selfe.
Lewis. Lewis.
Lewis. Why say, faire Queene, whence springs this
Lewis. deepe despaire?
Marg. Marg.
Marg. From such a cause, as fills mine eyes with teares,
Marg. And stops my tongue, while heart is drown'd in cares.
Lewis. What ere it be, be thou still like thy selfe,
Lewis. And sit thee by our side.
Lewis. Seats her by him.
Lewis. Yeeld not thy necke to Fortunes yoake,
Lewis. But let thy dauntlesse minde still ride in triumph,
Lewis. Ouer all mischance.