Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Buck. Buck.
Buck. Nay, Sir Nicholas,
Buck. Let it alone; my State now will but mocke me.
Buck. When I came hither, I was Lord High Constable,
Buck. And Duke of Buckingham: now, poore Edward Bohun;
Buck. Yet I am richer then my base Accusers,
Buck. That neuer knew what Truth meant: I now seale it;
Buck. And with that bloud will make 'em one day groane for't.
Buck. My noble Father Henry of Buckingham,
Buck. Who first rais'd head against Vsurping Richard,
Buck. Flying for succour to his Seruant Banister,
Buck. Being distrest; was by that wretch betraid,
Buck. And without Tryall, fell; Gods peace be with him.
Buck. Henry the Seauenth succeeding, truly pittying
Buck. My Fathers losse; like a most Royall Prince
Buck. Restor'd me to my Honours: and out of ruines
Buck. Made my Name once more Noble. Now his Sonne,
Buck. Henry the Eight, Life, Honour, Name and all
Buck. That made me happy; at one stroake ha's taken
Buck. For euer from the World. I had my Tryall,