Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Bish. Bish.
Bish. Goe, good Lord Hastings:
Bish. And ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by.
Bish. Exit.
Iohn. Iohn.
Iohn. I trust (Lords) wee shall lye to night together.
Iohn. Enter Westmerland.
Iohn. Now Cousin, wherefore stands our Army still?
West. West.
West. The Leaders hauing charge from you to stand,
West. Will not goe off, vntill they heare you speake.
Iohn. They know their duties.
Iohn. Enter Hastings.
Hast. Hast.
Hast. Our Army is dispers'd:
Hast. Like youthfull steeres, vnyoak'd, they tooke their course
Hast. East, West, North, South: or like a Schoole, broke vp,
Hast. Each hurryes towards his home, and sporting place.