Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. Do'st thou so hunger for my emptie Chayre,
King. That thou wilt needes inuest thee with mine Honors,
King. I Before thy howre be ripe? O foolish Youth!
King. Thou seek'st the Greatnesse, that will ouer‑whelme thee.
King. Stay but a little: for my Cloud of Dignitie
King. Is held from falling, with so weake a winde,
King. That it will quickly drop: my Day is dimme.
King. Thou hast stolne that, which after some few howres
King. Were thine, without offence: and at my death
King. Thou hast seal'd vp my expectation.
King. Thy Life did manifest, thou lou'dst me not,
King. And thou wilt haue me dye assur'd of it.
King. Thou hid'st a thousand Daggers in thy thoughts,
King. Which thou hast whetted on thy stonie heart,
King. To stab at halfe an howre of my Life.
King. What? canst thou not forbeare me halfe an howre?
King. Then
King. The second Part of King Henry the Fourth.
King. Then get thee gone, and digge my graue thy selfe,
King. And bid the merry Bels ring to thy eare