Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
King. Layes his Hand on his Head.
King. If secret Powers suggest but truth
King. To my diuining thoughts,
King. This prettie Lad will proue our Countries blisse.
King. His Lookes are full of peacefull Maiestie,
King. His Head by nature fram'd to weare a Crowne,
King. His Hand to wield a Scepter, and himselfe
King. Likely in time to blesse a Regall Throne:
King. Make much of him, my Lords; for this is hee
King. Must helpe you more, then you are hurt by mee.
King. Enter a Poste.
Warw. Warw.
Warw. What newes, my friend?
Poste. Poste.
Poste. That Edward is escaped from your Brother,
Poste. And fled (as hee heares since) to Burgundie.
Warw. Vnsauorie newes: but how made he escape?
Poste. He was conuey'd by Richard, Duke of Gloster,