Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Grif. How do's your Grace?
Kath. Kath.
Kath. O Griffith, sicke to death:
Kath. My Legges like loaden Branches bow to'th'Earth,
Kath. Willing to leaue their burthen: Reach a Chaire,
Kath. So now (me thinkes) I feele a little ease.
Kath. Did'st thou not tell me Griffith, as thou lead'st mee,
Kath. That the great Childe of Honor, Cardinall Wolsey
Kath. Was dead?
Grif. Grif.
Grif. Yes Madam: but I thanke your Grace
Grif. Out of the paine you suffer'd, gaue no eare too't.
Kath. Pre'thee good Griffith, tell me how he dy'de.
Kath. If well, he stept before me happily
Kath. For my example.
Grif. Well, the voyce goes Madam,
Grif. For after the stout Earle Northumberland
Grif. Arrested him at Yorke, and brought him forward