Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Dut. Dut.
Dut. If so then, be not Tongue‑ty'd: go with me,
Dut. And in the breath of bitter words, let's smother
Dut. My damned Son, that thy two sweet Sonnes smother'd.
Dut. The Trumpet sounds, be copious in exclaimes.
Dut. Enter King Richard, and his Traine.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Who intercepts me in my Expedition?
Dut. O she, that might haue intercepted thee
Dut. By strangling thee in her aceursedaccursed wombe,
Dut. From all the slaughters (Wretch) that thou hast done.
Qu. Qu.
Qu. Hid'st thou that Forhead with a Golden Crowne
Qu. Where't should be branded, if that right were right?
Qu. The slaughter of the Prince that ow'd that Crowne,
Qu. And the dyre death of my poore Sonnes, and Brothers.
Qu. Tell me thou Villaine‑slaue, where are my Children?
Dut. Thou Toad, thou Toade,