Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Bul. By this time (had the King permitted vs)
Bul. One of our soules had wandred in the ayre,
Bul. Banish'd this fraile sepulchre of our flesh,
Bul. As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land.
Bul. Confesse thy Treasons, ere thou flye this Realme,
Bul. Since thou hast farre to go, beare not along
Bul. The clogging burthen of a guilty soule.
Mow. Mow.
Mow. No Bullingbroke: If euer I were Traitor,
Mow. My name be blotted from the booke of Life,
Mow. And I from heauen banish'd, as from hence:
Mow. But what thou art, heauen, thou, and I do know,
Mow. And all too soone (I feare) the King shall rue.
Mow. Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray,
Mow. Saue backe to England, all the worlds my way.
Mow. Exit.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Vncle, euen in the glasses of thine eyes
Rich. I see thy greeued heart: thy sad aspect,
Rich. Hath from the number of his banish'd yeares