Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Queen. Nor set no footing on this vnkinde Shore.
Queen. What did I then? But curst the gentle gusts,
Queen. And he that loos'd them forth their Brazen Caues,
Queen. And bid them blow towards Englands blessed shore,
Queen. Or turne our sterne vpon a dreadfull Rocke:
Queen. Yet Æolus would not be a murtherer,
Queen. But left that hatefull office vnto thee.
Queen. The pretty vaulting Sea refus'd to drowne me,
Queen. Knowing that thou wouldst haue me drown'd on shore
Queen. With teares as salt as Sea, through thy vnkindnesse.
Queen. The splitting Rockes cowr'd in the sinking sands,
Queen. And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
Queen. Because thy flinty heart more hard then they,
Queen. Might in thy Pallace, perish Elianor.
Queen. As farre as I could ken thy Chalky Cliffes,
Queen. When from thy Shore, the Tempest beate vs backe,
Queen. I stood vpon the Hatches in the storme:
Queen. And when the duskie sky, began to rob
Queen. My earnest‑gaping‑sight of thy Lands view,
Queen. I tooke a costly Iewell from my necke,