Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Rich. 'Tis very true, my Griefe lyes all within,
Rich. And these externall manner of Laments,
Rich. Are meerely shadowes, to the vnseen Griefe,
Rich. That swells with silence in the tortur'd Soule.
Rich. There lyes the substance: and I thanke thee King
Rich. For thy great bountie, that not onely giu'st
Rich. Me cause to wayle, but teachest me the way
Rich. How to lament the cause. Ile begge one Boone,
Rich. And then be gone, and trouble you no more.
Rich. Shall I obtaine it?
Bull. Bull.
Bull. Name it, faire Cousin.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Faire Cousin? I am greater then a King:
Rich. For when I was a King, my flatterers
Rich. Were then but subiects; being now a subiect,
Rich. I haue a King here to my flatterer:
Rich. Being so great, I haue no neede to begge.
Bull. Yet aske.