Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Con. Become thy great birth, nor deserue a Crowne.
Con. But thou art faire, and at thy birth (deere boy)
Con. Nature and Fortune ioyn'd to make thee great.
Con. Of Natures guifts, thou mayst with Lillies boast,
Con. And with the halfe‑blowne Rose. But Fortune, oh,
Con. She is corrupted, chang'd, and wonne from thee,
Con. Sh'adulterates hourely with thine Vnckle Iohn,
Con. And with her golden hand hath pluckt on France
Con. To tread downe faire respect of Soueraigntie,
Con. And made his Maiestie the bawd to theirs.
Con. France is a Bawd to Fortune, and king Iohn,
Con. That strumpet Fortune, that vsurping Iohn:
Con. Tell me thou fellow, is no France forsworne?
Con. Envenom him with words, or get thee gone,
Con. And leaue those woes alone, which I alone
Con. Am bound to vnder‑beare.
Sal. Sal.
Sal. Pardon me Madam,
Sal. I may not goe without you to the kings.
Con. Con.