Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. So iust is God, to right the innocent.
Hast. Hast.
Hast. O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that Babe,
Hast. And the most mercilesse, that ere was heard of.
Riu. Riu.
Riu. Tyrants themselues wept when it was reported.
Dors. Dors.
Dors. No man but prophecied reuenge for it.
Buck. Buck.
Buck. Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.
Q. M. Q. M.
Q. M. What? were you snarling all before I came,
Q. M. Ready to catch each other by the throat,
Q. M. And turne you all your hatred now on me?
Q. M. Did Yorkes dread Curse preuaile so much with Heauen,
Q. M. That Henries death, my louely Edwards death,
Q. M. Their Kingdomes losse, my wofull Banishment,
Q. M. Should all but answer for that peeuish Brat?