Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Nor. It's Heauens will,
Nor. Some Spirit put this paper in the Packet,
Nor. To blesse your eye withall.
King. King.
King. If we did thinke
King. His
King. The Life of King Henry the Eight.
King. His Contemplation were aboue the earth,
King. And fixt on Spirituall obiect, he should still
King. Dwell in his Musings, but I am affraid
King. His Thinkings are below the Moone, not worth
King. His serious considering.
King. King takes his Seat, whispers Louell, who goes
King. to the Cardinall.
Car. Car.
Car. Heauen forgiue me,
Car. Euer God blesse your Highnesse.
King. Good my Lord,
King. You are full of Heauenly stuffe, and beare the Inuentory