Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Nor. Stood heere obseruing him. Some strange Commotion
Nor. Is in his braine: He bites his lip, and starts,
Nor. Stops on a sodaine, lookes vpon the ground,
Nor. Then layes his finger on his Temple: straight
Nor. Springs out into fast gate, then stops againe,
Nor. Strikes his brest hard, and anon, he casts
Nor. His eye against the Moone: in most strange Postures
Nor. We haue seene him set himselfe.
King. King.
King. It may well be,
King. There is a mutiny in's minde. This morning,
King. Papers of State he sent me, to peruse
King. As I requir'd: and wot you what I found
King. There (on my Conscience put vnwittingly)
King. Forsooth an Inuentory, thus importing
King. The seuerall parcels of his Plate his Treasure,
King. Rich Stuffes and Ornaments of Houshold, which
King. I finde at such proud Rate, that it out‑speakes
King. Posession of a Subiect.
Nor. Nor.