Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Ely. Where is my Lord, the Duke of Gloster?
Ely. I haue sent for these Strawberries.
Ha. Ha.
Ha. His Grace looks chearfully & smooth this morning,
Ha. There's some conceit or other likes him well,
Ha. When that he bids good morrow with such spirit.
Ha. I thinke there's neuer a man in Christendome
Ha. Can lesser hide his loue, or hate, then hee,
Ha. For by his Face straight shall you know his Heart.
Darb. Darb.
Darb. What of his Heart perceiue you in his Face,
Darb. By any liuelyhood he shew'd to day?
Hast. Hast.
Hast. Mary, that with no man here he is offended:
Hast. For were he, he had shewne it in his Lookes.
Hast. Enter Richard, and Buckingham.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. I pray you all, tell me what they deserue,
Rich. That doe conspire my death with diuellish Plots
Rich. Of damned Witchcraft, and that haue preuail'd