Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Rich. For he is iust, and alwayes lou'd vs well.
Rich. Come on our Queene, to morrow must we part,
Rich. Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
Rich. Flourish.
Rich. Manet North. Willughby, & Ross.
Nor. Nor.
Nor. Well Lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
Ross. Ross.
Ross. And liuing too, for now his sonne is Duke.
Wil. Wil.
Wil. Barely in title, not in reuennew.
Nor. Richly in both, if iustice had her right.
Ross. My heart is great: but it must break with silence,
Ross. Er't be disburthen'd with a liberall tongue.
Nor. Nay speake thy mind: & let him ne'r speak more
Nor. That speakes thy words againe to do thee harme.