Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Glou. These haires which thou dost rauish from my chin
Glou. Will quicken and accuse thee. I am your Host,
Glou. With Robbers hands, my hospitable fauours
Glou. You
Glou. The Tragedie of King Lear.
Glou. You should not ruffle thus. What will you do?
Corn. Corn.
Corn. Come Sir.
Corn. What Letters had you late from France?
Reg. Reg.
Reg. Be simple answer'd, for we know the truth.
Corn. And what confederacie haue you with the Traitors,
Corn. late footed in the Kingdome?
Reg. To whose hands
Reg. You haue sent the Lunaticke King: Speake.
Glou. Glou.
Glou. I haue a Letter guessingly set downe
Glou. Which came from one that's of a newtrall heart,