Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
King. Faine would I go to chafe his palie lips,
King. With twenty thousand kisses, and to draine
King. Vpon his face an Ocean of salt teares,
King. To tell my loue vnto his dumbe deafe trunke,
King. And with my fingers feele his hand, vnfeeling:
King. But all in vaine are these meane Obsequies,
King. Bed put forth.
King. And to suruey his dead and earthy Image:
King. What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
Warw. Warw.
Warw. Come hither gracious Soueraigne, view this
Warw. body.
King. King.
King. That is to see how deepe my graue is made,
King. For with his soule fled all my worldly solace:
King. For seeing him, I see my life in death.
War. War.
War. As surely as my soule intends to liue
War. With that dread King that tooke our state vpon him,
War. To free vs from his Fathers wrathfull curse,