Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Warw. But will suspect, 'twas he that made the slaughter?
Warw. Who finds the Partridge in the Puttocks Nest,
Warw. But may imagine how the Bird was dead,
Warw. Although the Kyte soare with vnbloudied Beake?
Warw. Euen so suspitious is this Tragedie.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. Are you the Butcher, Suffolk? where's your Knife?
Qu. Is Beauford tearm'd a Kyte? where are his Tallons?
Suff. Suff.
Suff. I weare no Knife, to slaughter sleeping men,
Suff. But here's a vengefull Sword, rusted with ease,
Suff. That shall be scowred in his rancorous heart,
Suff. That slanders me with Murthers Crimson Badge.
Suff. Say, if thou dar'st, prowd Lord of Warwickshire,
Suff. That I am faultie in Duke Humfreyes death.
Warw. Warw.
Warw. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolke dare
Warw. him?
Qu. He dares not calme his contumelious Spirit,