Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. In motion of no lesse celeritie then that of Thought.
King. Suppose, that you haue seene
King. The well-appointed King at Douer Peer,
King. Embarke his Royaltie: and his braue Fleet,
King. With silken Streamers, the young Phebus fayning;
King. Play with your Fancies: and in them behold,
King. Vpon the Hempen Tackle, Ship-boyes climbing;
King. Heare the shrill Whistle, which doth order giue
King. To sounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sayles,
King. Borne with th'inuisible and creeping Wind,
King. Draw the huge Bottomes through the furrowed Sea,
King. Bresting the loftie Surge. O, doe but thinke
King. You stand vpon the Riuage, and behold
King. A Citie on th'inconstant Billowes dauncing:
King. For so appeares this Fleet Maiesticall,
King. Holding due course to Harflew. Follow, follow:
King. Grapple your minds to sternage of this Nauie,
King. And leaue your England as dead Mid-night, still,
King. Guarded with Grandsires, Babyes, and old Women,
King. Eyther past, or not arriu'd to pyth and puissance: