Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Nor. If then we shall shake off our slauish yoake,
Nor. Impe out our drooping Countries broken wing,
Nor. Redeeme from broaking pawne the blemish'd Crowne,
Nor. Wipe off the dust that hides our Scepters gilt,
Nor. And make high Maiestie looke like it selfe,
Nor. Away with me in poste to Rauenspurgh,
Nor. But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Nor. Stay, and be secret, and my selfe will go.
Ros. Ros.
Ros. To horse, to horse, vrge doubts to them yt feare.
Wil. Wil.
Wil. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.
Wil. Exeunt.
Wil. Scena Secunda.
Wil. [Act 2, Scene 2]
Wil. Enter Queene, Bushy, and Bagot.
Bush. Bush.
Bush. Madam, your Maiesty is too much sad,
Bush. You promis'd when you parted with the King,
Bush. To lay aside selfe‑harming heauinesse,