Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Blunt. You coniure from the Brest of Ciuill Peace,
Blunt. Such bold Hostilitie, teaching his dutious Land
Blunt. Audacious Crueltie. If that the King
Blunt. Haue any way your good Deserts forgot,
Blunt. Which he confesseth to be manifold,
Blunt. He bids you name your Griefes, and with all speed
Blunt. You shall haue your desires, with interest;
Blunt. And Pardon absolute for your selfe, and these,
Blunt. Herein mis‑led, by your suggestion.
Hotsp. Hotsp.
Hotsp. The King is kinde:
Hotsp. And well wee know, the King
Hotsp. Knowes at what time to promise, when to pay.
Hotsp. My Father, my Vnckle, and my selfe,
Hotsp. Did giue him that same Royaltie he weares:
Hotsp. And when he was not sixe and twentie strong;
Hotsp. Sicke in the Worlds regard, wretched, and low,
Hotsp. A poore vnminded Out‑law, sneaking home,
Hotsp. My Father gaue him welcome to the shore:
Hotsp. And when he heard him sweare, and vow to God,