Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
3. Seru. And haue our bodyes slaughtred by thy foes.
1. Seru. 1. Seru.
1. Seru. I, and the very parings of our Nayles
1. Seru. Shall pitch a Field when we are dead.
1. Seru. Begin againe.
Glost. Glost.
Glost. Stay, stay, I say:
Glost. And if you loue me, as you say you doe,
Glost. Let me perswade you to forbeare a while.
King. King.
King. Oh, how this discord doth afflict my Soule.
King. Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold
King. My sighes and teares, and will not once relent?
King. Who should be pittifull, if you be not?
King. Or who should study to preferre a Peace,
King. If holy Church‑men take delight in broyles?
Warw. Warw.
Warw. Yeeld my Lord Protector, yeeld Winchester,
Warw. Except you meane with obstinate repulse
Warw. To stay your Soueraigne, and destroy the Realme.