Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Edward. I thinke it cites vs (Brother) to the field,
Edward. That wee, the Sonnes of braue Plantagenet,
Edward. Each one alreadie blazing by our meedes,
Edward. Should notwithstanding ioyne our Lights together,
Edward. And ouer‑shine the Earth, as this the World.
Edward. What ere it bodes, hence‑forward will I beare
Edward. Vpon my Targuet three faire shining Sunnes.
Richard. Richard.
Richard. Nay, beare three Daughters:
Richard. By your leaue, I speake it,
Richard. You loue the Breeder better then the Male.
Richard. Enter one blowing.
Richard. But what art thou, whose heauie Lookes fore‑tell
Richard. Some dreadfull story hanging on thy Tongue?
Mess. Mess.
Mess. Ah, one that was a wofull looker on,
Mess. When as the Noble Duke of Yorke was slaine,
Mess. Your Princely Father, and my louing Lord.
Edward. Edward.
Edward. Oh speake no more, for I haue heard too