Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. Thou chid'st me well: proud Bullingbrooke I come
Rich. To change Blowes with thee, for our day of Doome:
Rich. This ague fit of feare is ouer‑blowne,
Rich. An easie taske it is to winne our owne.
Rich. Say Scroope, where lyes our Vnckle with his Power?
Rich. Speake sweetly man, although thy lookes be sowre.
Scroope. Scroope.
Scroope. Men iudge by the complexion of the Skie
Scroope. The state and inclination of the day;
Scroope. So may you by my dull and heauie Eye:
Scroope. My Tongue hath but a heauier Tale to say:
Scroope. I play the Torturer, by small and small
Scroope. To lengthen out the worst, that must be spoken.
Scroope. Your Vnckle Yorke is ioyn'd with Bullingbrooke,
Scroope. And all your Northerne Castles yeelded vp,
Scroope. And all your Southerne Gentlemen in Armes
Scroope. Vpon his Faction.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Thou hast said enough.
Rich. Beshrew thee Cousin, which didst lead me forth