Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Iden. Is't Cade that I haue slain, that monstrous traitor?
Iden. Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deede,
Iden. And hang thee o're my Tombe, when I am dead.
Iden. Ne're shall this blood be wiped from thy point,
Iden. But thou shalt weare it as a Heralds coate,
Iden. To emblaze the Honor that thy Master got.
Cade. Cade.
Cade. Iden farewell, and be proud of thy victory: Tell
Cade. Kent from me, she hath lost her best man, and exhort all
Cade. the World to be Cowards: For I that neuer feared any,
Cade. am vanquished by Famine, not by Valour.
Cade. Dyes.
Id. Id.
Id. How much thou wrong'st me, heauen be my iudge;
Id. Die damned Wretch, the curse of her that bare thee:
Id. And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
Id. So wish I, I might thrust thy soule to hell.
Id. Hence will I dragge thee headlong by the heeles
Id. Vnto a dunghill, which shall be thy graue,
Id. And there cut off thy most vngracious head,