Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Warw. Oxford, how haps it in this smooth discourse,
Warw. You told not, how Henry the Sixt hath lost
Warw. All that, which Henry the Fift had gotten:
Warw. Me thinkes these Peeres of France should smile at that.
Warw. But for the rest: you tell a Pedigree
Warw. Of threescore and two yeeres, a silly time
Warw. To make prescription for a Kingdomes worth.
Oxf. Oxf.
Oxf. Why Warwicke, canst thou speak against thy Liege,
Oxf. Whom thou obeyd'st thirtie and six yeeres,
Oxf. And not bewray thy Treason with a Blush?
Warw. Warw.
Warw. Can Oxford, that did euer sence the right,
Warw. Now buckler Falsehood with a Pedigree?
Warw. For shame leaue Henry, and call Edward King.
Oxf. Call him my King, by whose iniurious doome
Oxf. My elder Brother, the Lord sAubrey Vere
Oxf. Was done to death? and more then so, my Father,
Oxf. Euen in the downe‑fall of his mellow'd yeeres,