Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Pem. Pem.
Pem. His Highnesse yet doth speak, & holds beleefe,
Pem. That being brought into the open ayre,
Pem. It would allay the burning qualitie
Pem. Of that fell poison which assayleth him.
Hen. Hen.
Hen. Let him be brought into the Orchard heere:
Hen. Doth he still rage?
Pem. He is more patient
Pem. Then when you left him; euen now he sung.
Hen. Oh vanity of sicknesse: fierce extreames
Hen. In their continuance, will not feele themselues.
Hen. Death hauing praide vpon the outward parts
Hen. Leaues them inuisible, and his siege is now
Hen. Against the winde, the which he prickes and wounds
Hen. With many legions of strange fantasies,
Hen. Which in their throng, and presse to that last hold,
Hen. Counfound themselues. 'Tis strange yt death shold sing: