Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Yor. I do beseech your Maiestie impute his words
Yor. To wayward sicklinesse, and age in him:
Yor. He loues you on my life, and holds you deere
Yor. As Harry Duke of Herford, were he heere.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Right, you say true: as Herfords loue, so his;
Rich. As theirs, so mine: and all be as it is.
Rich. Enter Northumberland.
Nor. Nor.
Nor. My Liege, olde Gaunt commends him to your
Nor. Maiestie.
Rich. What sayes he?
Nor. Nay nothing, all is said:
Nor. His tongue is now a stringlesse instrument,
Nor. Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
Yor. Yor.
Yor. Be Yorke the next, that must be bankrupt so,
Yor. Though death be poore, it ends a mortall wo.