Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Edw. I cleft his Beauer with a down‑right blow:
Edw. That this is true (Father) behold his blood.
Mount. Mount.
Mount. And Brother, here's the Earle of Wiltshires (blood,
Mount. Whom I encountred as the Battels ioyn'd.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Speake thou for me, and tell them what I did.
Plan. Plan.
Plan. Richard hath best deseru'd of all my sonnes:
Plan. But is your Grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
Nor. Nor.
Nor. Such hope haue all the line of Iohn of Gaunt.
Rich. Thus do I hope to shake King Henries head.
Warw. Warw.
Warw. And so doe I, victorious Prince of Yorke.
Warw. Before I see thee seated in that Throne,
Warw. Which now the House of Lancaster vsurpes,
Warw. I vow by Heauen, these eyes shall neuer close.
Warw. This is the Pallace of the fearefull King,