Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Warw. Warw.
Warw. I, therein Clarence shall not want his part.
King. King.
King. But with the first, of all your chiefe affaires,
King. Let me entreat (for I command no more)
King. That Margaret your Queene, and my Sonne Edward,
King. Be sent for, to returne from France with speed:
King. For till I see them here, by doubtfull feare,
King. My ioy of libertie is halfe eclips'd.
Clar. Clar.
Clar. It shall bee done, my Soueraigne, with all
Clar. speede.
King. My Lord of Somerset, what Youth is that,
King. Of whom you seeme to haue so tender care?
Somers. Somers.
Somers. My Liege, it is young Henry, Earle of Rich
Somers. mond.
King. Come hither, Englands Hope: