Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Hot. Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Mes.
Mes. My Lord, heere are Letters for you.
Hot. Hot.
Hot. I cannot reade them now.
Hot. O Gentlemen, the time of life is short;
Hot. To spend that shortnesse basely, were too long.
Hot. If life did ride vpon a Dials point,
Hot. still ending at the arriuall of an houre,
Hot. And if we liue, we liue to treade on Kings:
Hot. If dye; braue death, when Princes dye with vs.
Hot. Now for our Consciences, the Armes is faire,
Hot. When the intent for bearing them is iust.
Hot. Enter another Messenger.
Mes. My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot. I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale:
Hot. For I professe not talking: Onely this,
Hot. Let each man do his best. And heere I draw a Sword,