Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Capt. Therefore we will disperse our selues: farewell.
Sal. Sal.
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trustie Welchman,
Sal. The King reposeth all his confidence in thee.
Capt. Capt.
Capt. 'Tis thought the King is dead, we will not stay;
Capt. And Meteors fright the fixed Starres of Heauen;
Capt. The pale‑fac'd Moone lookes bloody on the Earth,
Capt. And leane‑look'd Prophets whisper fearefull change;
Capt. Rich men looke sad, and Ruffians dance and leape,
Capt. The one in feare, to loose what they enioy,
Capt. The other to enioy by Rage, and Warre:
Capt. These signes fore‑run the death of Kings.
Capt. Farewell, our Countreymen are gone and fled,
Capt. As well assur'd Richard their King is dead.
Capt. Exit.
Sal. Ah Richard, with eyes of heauie mind,
Sal. I see thy Glory, like a shooting Starre,
Sal. Fall to the base Earth, from the Firmament: