Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Yorke. While as the silly Owner of the goods
Yorke. Weepes ouer them, and wrings his haplesse hands,
Yorke. And shakes his head, and trembling stands aloofe,
Yorke. While all is shar'd, and all is borne away,
Yorke. Ready to sterue, and dare not touch his owne.
Yorke. So Yorke must sit, and fret, and bite his tongue,
Yorke. While his owne Lands are bargain'd for, and sold:
Yorke. Me thinkes the Realmes of England, France, & Ireland,
Yorke. Beare that proportion to my flesh and blood,
Yorke. As did the fatall brand Althæa burnt,
Yorke. Vnto the Princes heart of Calidon:
Yorke. Aniou and Maine both giuen vnto the French?
Yorke. Cold newes for me: for I had hope of France,
Yorke. Euen as I haue of fertile Englands soile.
Yorke. A day will come, when Yorke shall claime his owne,
Yorke. And therefore I will take the Neuils parts,
Yorke. And make a shew of loue to proud Duke Humfrey,
Yorke. And when I spy aduantage, claime the Crowne,
Yorke. For that's the Golden marke I seeke to hit:
Yorke. Nor shall proud Lancaster vsurpe my right,