Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
King. March all one way, and be no more oppos'd
King. Against Acquaintance, Kindred, and Allies.
King. The edge of Warre, like an ill‑sheathed knife,
King. No more shall cut his master. Therefore Friends,
King. As farre as to the Sepulcher of Christ,
King. Whose Souldier now vnder whose blessed Crosse
King. We are impressed and ingag'd to fight,
King. Forthwith a power of English shall we leuie,
King. Whose armes were moulded in their mothers wombe,
King. To chase these pagans in those holy Fields,
King. Ouer whose acres walk'd those blessed feete
King. Which fourteene hundred yeares ago were nail'd
King. For our aduantage on the bitter Crosse.
King. But this our purpose is a tweluemonth old,
King. And bootlesse 'tis to tell you we will go:
King. Therefore we meete not now. Then let me heare
King. Of you my gentle Cousin Westmerland,
King. What yesternight our Councell did decree,
King. In forwarding this deare expedience.
West. West.