Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Glost. His brandisht Sword did blinde men with his beames,
Glost. His Armes spred wider then a Dragons Wings:
Glost. His sparkling Eyes, repleat with wrathfull fire,
Glost. More dazled and droue back his Enemies,
Glost. Then mid‑day Sunne, fierce bent against their faces.
Glost. What should I say? his Deeds exceed all speech:
Glost. He ne're lift vp his Hand, but conquered.
Exe. Exe.
Exe. We mourne in black, why mourn we not in blood?
Exe. Henry is dead, and neuer shall reuiue:
Exe. Vpon a Woodden Coffin we attend;
Exe. And Deaths dishonourable Victorie,
Exe. We with our stately presence glorifie,
Exe. Like Captiues bound to a Triumphant Carre.
Exe. What? shall we curse the Planets of Mishap,
Exe. That plotted thus our Glories ouerthrow?
Exe. Or shall we thinke the subtile‑witted French,
Exe. Coniurers and Sorcerers, that afraid of him,
Exe. By Magick Verses haue contriu'd his end.
Winch. Winch.