Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Gui. There was no money in't: Not Hercules
Gui. Could haue knock'd out his Braines, for he had none:
Gui. Yet I not doing this, the Foole had borne
Gui. My head, as I do his.
Bel. Bel.
Bel. What hast thou done?
Gui. Gui.
Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Clotens head,
Gui. Sonne to the Queene (after his owne report)
Gui. Who call'd me Traitor, Mountaineer, and swore
Gui. With his owne single hand heel'd take vs in,
Gui. Displace our heads, where (thanks the Gods) they grow
Gui. And set them on Luds‑Towne.
Bel. We are all vndone.
Gui. Why, worthy Father, what haue we to loose,
Gui. But that he swore to take, our Liues? the Law
Gui. Protects not vs, then why should we be tender,
Gui. To let an arrogant peece of flesh threat vs?