Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Bast. To lye like pawnes, lock'd vp in chests and truncks,
Bast. To hug with swine, to seeke sweet safety out
Bast. In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake,
Bast. Euen
Bast. The life and death of King John.
Bast. Euen at the crying of your Nations crow,
Bast. Thinking this voyce an armed Englishman.
Bast. Shall that victorious hand be feebled heere,
Bast. That in your Chambers gaue you chasticement?
Bast. No: know the gallant Monarch is in Armes,
Bast. And like an Eagle, o're hi ayerie towres,
Bast. To sowsse annoyance that comes neere his Nest;
Bast. And you degenerate, you ingrate Reuolts,
Bast. you bloudy Nero's, ripping vp the wombe
Bast. Of your deere Mother‑England: blush for shame:
Bast. For your owne Ladies, and pale‑visag'd Maides,
Bast. Like Amazons, come tripping after drummes:
Bast. Their thimbles into armed Gantlets change,
Bast. Their Needl's to Lances, and their gentle hearts
Bast. To fierce and bloody inclination.