Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Yor. I am the last of noble Edwards sonnes,
Yor. Of whom thy Father Prince of Wales was first,
Yor. In warre was neuer Lyon rag'd more fierce:
Yor. In peace, was neuer gentle Lambe more milde,
Yor. Then was that yong and Princely Gentleman,
Yor. His face thou hast, for euen so look'd he
Yor. Accomplish'd with the number of thy howrs:
Yor. But when he frown'd, it was against the French,
Yor. And not against his friends: his noble hand
Yor. Did win what he did spend: and spent not that
Yor. Which his triumphant fathers hand had won:
Yor. His hands were guilty of no kindreds blood,
Yor. But bloody with the enemies of his kinne:
Yor. Oh Richard, Yorke is too farre gone with greefe,
Yor. Or else he neuer would compare betweene.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Why Vncle,
Rich. What's the matter?
Yor. Yor.
Yor. Oh my Liege, pardon me if you please, if not