Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cla. Cla.
Cla. Ah Keeper, Keeper, I haue done these things
Cla. (That now giue euidence against my Soule)
Cla. For Edwards sake, and see how he requits mee.
Cla. O God! if my deepe prayres cannot appease thee,
Cla. But thou wilt be aueng'd on my misdeeds,
Cla. Yet execute thy wrath in me alone:
Cla. O spare my guiltlesse Wife, and my poore children.
Cla. Keeper, I prythee sit by me a‑while,
Cla. My Soule is heauy, and I faine would sleepe.
Keep. Keep.
Keep. I will my Lord, God giue your Grace good rest.
Keep. Enter Brakenbury the Lieutenant.
Bra. Bra.
Bra. Sorrow breakes Seasons, and reposing houres,
Bra. Makes the Night Morning, and the Noon‑tide night:
Bra. Princes haue but their Titles for their Glories,
Bra. An outward Honor, for an inward Toyle,
Bra. And for vnfelt Imaginations
Bra. They often feele a world of restlesse Cares: