Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fri. Fri.
Fri. There is some strange misprision in the Princes.
Ben. Ben.
Ben. Two of them haue the verie bent of honor,
Ben. And if their wisedomes be misled in this:
Ben. The practise of it liues in Iohn the bastard,
Ben. Whose spirits toile in frame of villanies.
Leo. Leo.
Leo. I know not: if they speake but truth of her,
Leo. These hands shall teare her: If they wrong her honour,
Leo. The proudest of them shall wel heare of it.
Leo. Time hath not yet so dried this bloud of mine,
Leo. Nor age so eate vp my inuention,
Leo. Nor Fortune made such hauocke of my meanes,
Leo. Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
Leo. But they shall finde, awak'd in such a kinde,
Leo. Both strength of limbe, and policie of minde,
Leo. Ability in meanes, and choise of friends,
Leo. To quit me of them thoroughly.