Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
An. Thy murd'rous Faulchion smoaking in his blood:
An. The which, thou once didd'st bend against her brest,
An. But that thy Brothers beate aside the point.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. I was prouoked by her sland'rous tongue,
Rich. That laid their guilt, vpon my guiltlesse Shoulders.
An. An.
An. Thou was't prouoked by thy bloody minde,
An. That neuer dream'st on ought but Butcheries:
An. Did'st thou not kill this King?
Rich. I graunt ye.
An. Do'st grant me Hedge‑hogge,
An. Then God graunt me too
An. Thou may'st be damned for that wicked deede,
An. O he was gentle, milde, and vertuous.
Rich. The better for the King of heauen that hath him.