Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Mont. If for thy Ransome thou wilt now compound,
Mont. Before thy most assured Ouerthrow:
Mont. For certainly, thou art so neere the Gulfe,
Mont. Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy
Mont. The Constable desires thee, thou wilt mind
Mont. Thy followers of Repentance; that their Soules
Mont. May make a peacefull and a sweet retyre
Mont. From off these fields: where (wretches) their poore bodies
Mont. Must lye and fester.
King. King.
King. Who hath sent thee now?
Mont. Mont.
Mont. The Constable of France.
King. I pray thee beare my former Answer back:
King. Bid them atchieue me, and then sell my bones.
King. Good God, why should they mock poore fellowes thus?
King. The man that once did sell the Lyons skin
King. While the beast liu'd, was kill'd with hunting him.
King. A many of our bodyes shall no doubt