Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. O bitter consequence!
Rich. That Edward still should liue true Noble Prince.
Rich. Cousin, thou wast not wont to be so dull.
Rich. Shall I be plaine? I wish the Bastards dead,
Rich. And I would haue it suddenly perform'd.
Rich. What say'st thou now? speake suddenly, be briefe.
Buck. Buck.
Buck. Your Grace may doe your pleasure.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Tut, tut, thou art all Ice, thy kindnesse freezes:
Rich. Say, haue I thy consent, that they shall dye?
Buc. Buc.
Buc. Giue me some litle breath, some pawse, deare Lord,
Buc. Before I positiuely speake in this:
Buc. I will resolue you herein presently.
Buc. Exit Buck.
Catesby. Catesby.
Catesby. The King is angry, see he gnawes his Lippe.
Rich. I will conuerse with Iron‑witted Fooles,