Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Fra. And by my faith, this league that we haue made
Fra. Will giue her sadnesse very little cure:
Fra. Brother of England, how may we content
Fra. This widdow Lady? In her right we came,
Fra. Which we God knowes, haue turn d another way,
Fra. To our owne vantage.
Iohn. Iohn.
Iohn. We will heale vp all,
Iohn. For wee'l create yong Arthur Duke of Britaine
Iohn. And Earle of Richmond, and this rich faire Towne
Iohn. We
Iohn. The life and death of King Iohn.
Iohn. We make him Lord of. Call the Lady Constance,
Iohn. Some speedy Messenger bid her repaire
Iohn. To our solemnity: I trust we shall,
Iohn. (If not fill vp the measure of her will)
Iohn. Yet in some measure satisfie her so,
Iohn. That we shall stop her exclamation,
Iohn. Go we as well as hast will suffer vs,
Iohn. To this vnlook'd for vnprepared pompe.