Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Edg. Very bootlesse.
Mess. Mess.
Mess. Edmund is dead my Lord.
Alb. Alb.
Alb. That's but a trifle heere:
Alb. You Lords and Noble Friends, know our intent,
Alb. What comfort to this great decay may come,
Alb. Shall be appli'd. For vs we will resigne,
Alb. During the life of this old Maiesty
Alb. To him our absolute power, you to your rights,
Alb. With boote, and such addition as your Honours
Alb. Haue more then merited. All Friends shall
Alb. Taste the wages of their vertue, and all Foes
Alb. The cup of their deseruings: O see, see.
Lear. Lear.
Lear. And my poore Foole is hang'd: no, no, no life?
Lear. Why should a Dog, a Horse, a Rat haue life,
Lear. And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,
Lear. Neuer, neuer, neuer, neuer, neuer.
Lear. Pray you vndo this Button. Thanke you Sir,