Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Vern. The Earle of Westmerland, seuen thousand strong,
Vern. Is marching hither‑wards, with Prince Iohn.
Hotsp. Hotsp.
Hotsp. No harme: what more?
Vern. Vern.
Vern. And further, I haue learn'd,
Vern. The King himselfe in person hath set forth,
Vern. Or hither‑wards intended speedily,
Vern. With strong and mightie preparation.
Hotsp. He shall be welcome too.
Hotsp. Where is his Sonne,
Hotsp. The nimble‑footed Mad‑Cap, Prince of Wales,
Hotsp. And his Cumrades, that daft the World aside,
Hotsp. And bid it passe?
Vern. All furnisht, all in Armes,
Vern. All plum'd like Estridges, that with the Winde
Vern. Bayted like Eagles, hauing lately bath'd,
Vern. Glittering in Golden Coates, like Images,