Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. That thou might'st ioyne the more, thy Fathers loue;
King. Pleading so wisely, in excuse of it.
King. Come hither Harrie, sit thou by my bedde,
King. And heare (I thinke, the very latest Counsell
King. That euer I shall breath: Heauen knowes, my Sonne)
King. By what by‑pathes, and indirect crook'd‑wayes
King. I met this Crowne: and I my selfe know well
King. How troublesome it sate vpon my head.
King. T o thee, it shall descend with better Quiet,
King. Better Opinion, better Confirmation:
King. For all the soyle of the Atchieuement goes
King. With me, into the Earth. It seem'd in mee,
King. But as an Honour snatch'd with boyst'rous hand,
King. And I had many liuing, to vpbraide
King. My gaine of it, by their Assistances,
King. Which dayly grew to Quarrell, and to Blood‑shed,
King. Wounding supposed Peace.
King. All these bold Feares,
King. Thou seest (with perill) I haue answered:
King. For all my Reigne, hath beene but as a Scene