Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Salisb. To day, to day, vnhappie day too late
Salisb. Orethrowes thy Ioyes, Friends, Fortune, and thy State;
Salisb. For all the Welchmen hearing thou wert dead,
Salisb. Are gone to Bullingbrooke, disperst, and fled.
Aum. Aum.
Aum. Comfort my Liege, why lookes your Grace so
Aum. pale?
Rich. Rich.
Rich. But now the blood of twentie thousand men
Rich. Did triumph in my face, and they are fled,
Rich. And till so much blood thither come againe,
Rich. Haue I not reason to looke pale, and dead?
Rich. All Soules that will be safe, flye from my side,
Rich. For Time hath set a blot vpon my pride.
Aum. Comfort my Liege, remember who you are.
Rich. I had forgot my selfe. Am I not King?
Rich. Awake thou sluggard Maiestie, thou sleepest:
Rich. Is not the Kings Name fortie thousand Names?