Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Lou. So said her woman, and that her suffrance made
Lou. Almost each pang, a death.
King. King.
King. Alas good Lady.
Suf. Suf.
Suf. God safely quit her of her Burthen, and
Suf. With gentle Trauaile, to the gladding of
Suf. Your Highnesse with an Heire.
King. 'Tis midnight Charles,
King. Prythee to bed, and in thy Prayres remember
King. Th'estate of my poore Queene. Leaue me alone,
King. For I must thinke of that, which company
King. Would not be friendly too.
Suf. I wish your Highnesse
Suf. A quiet night, and my good Mistris will
Suf. Remember in my Prayers.
King. Charles good night.