Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cla. Cla.
Cla. Wel, you must now speake Sir Iohn Falstaffe faire,
Cla. Which swimmes against your streame of Quality.
Ch. Iust. Ch. Iust.
Ch. Iust. Sweet Princes: what I did, I did in Honor,
Ch. Iust. Led by th'Imperiall Conduct of my Soule,
Ch. Iust. And neuer shall you see, that I will begge
Ch. Iust. A ragged, and fore‑stall'd Remission.
Ch. Iust. If Troth, and vpright Innocency fayle me,
Ch. Iust. Ile to the King (my Master) that is dead,
Ch. Iust. And tell him, who hath sent me after him.
War. War.
War. Heere comes the Prince.
War. Enter Prince Henrie.
Ch. Iust. Good morrow: and heauen saue your Maiesty
Prince. Prince.
Prince. This new, and gorgeous Garment, Maiesty,
Prince. Sits not so easie on me, as you thinke.
Prince. Brothers, you mixe your Sadnesse with some Feare: