Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Bull. Oh let no noble eye prophane a teare
Bull. For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbrayes speare:
Bull. As confident, as is the Falcons flight
Bull. Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
Bull. My louing Lord, I take my leaue of you,
Bull. Of you (my Noble Cosin) Lord Aumerle;
Bull. Not sicke, although I haue to do with death,
Bull. But lustie, yong, and cheerely drawing breath.
Bull. Loe, as at English Feasts, so I regreete
Bull. The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
Bull. Oh thou the earthy author of my blood,
Bull. Whose youthfull spirit in me regenerate,
Bull. Doth with a two‑fold rigor lift mee vp
Bull. To reach at victory aboue my head,
Bull. Adde proofe vnto mine Armour with thy prayres,
Bull. And with thy blessings steele my Lances point,
Bull. That it may enter Mowbrayes waxen Coate,
Bull. And furnish new the name of Iohn a Gaunt,
Bull. Euen in the lusty hauiour of his sonne.
Gaunt. Gaunt.