Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Queen. Queen.
Queen. My Lord, my Lord,
Queen. I am a simple woman, much too weake
Queen. T'oppose your eunning cunning . Y'are meek, & humble‑mouth'd
Queen. You signe your Place, and Calling, in full seeming,
Queen. With Meekeness and Humilitie: but your Heart
Queen. Is cramm'd with Arrogancie, Spleene, and Pride.
Queen. You haue by Fortune, and his Highnesse fauors,
Queen. Gone slightly o're lowe steppes, and now are mounted
Queen. Where Powres are your Retainers, and your words
Queen. (Domestickes to you) serue your will, as't please
Queen. Your selfe pronounce their Office. I must tell you,
Queen. You tender more your persons Honor, then
Queen. Your high profession Spirituall. That agen
Queen. I do refuse you for my Iudge, and heere
Queen. Before you all, Appeale vnto the Pope,
Queen. To bring my whole Cause 'fore his Holinesse,
Queen. And to be iudged by him.
Queen. She Curtsies to the King, and offers to depart.
Queen. Camp.