Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. A Night is but small breathe, and little pawse,
King. To answer matters of this consequence.
King. Exeunt.
King. Actus Secundus.
King. [Act 3]
King. [Prologue]
King. Flourish.
King. Enter Chorus.
King. Thus with imagin'd wing our swift Scene flyes,
King. In motion of no lesse celeritie then that of Thought.
King. Suppose, that you haue seene
King. The well-appointed King at Douer Peer,
King. Embarke his Royaltie: and his braue Fleet,
King. With silken Streamers, the young Phebus fayning;
King. Play with your Fancies: and in them behold,
King. Vpon the Hempen Tackle, Ship-boyes climbing;
King. Heare the shrill Whistle, which doth order giue
King. To sounds confus'd: behold the threaden Sayles,
King. Borne with th'inuisible and creeping Wind,
King. Draw the huge Bottomes through the furrowed Sea,