Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
King. The fatall Colours of our striuing Houses:
King. The one, his purple Blood right well resembles,
King. The other his pale Cheekes (me thinkes) presenteth:
King. Wither one Rose, and let the other flourish:
King. If you contend, a thousand liues must wither.
Son. Son.
Son. How will my Mother, for a Fathers death
Son. Take on with me, and ne're be satisfi'd?
Fa. Fa.
Fa. How will my Wife, for slaughter of my Sonne,
Fa. Shed seas of Teares, and ne're be satisfi'd?
King. King.
King. How will the Country, for these woful chances,
King. Mis‑thinke
King. The third Part of King Henry the Sixt.
King. Mis‑thinke the King, and not be satisfied?
Son. Was euer sonne, so rew'd a Fathers death?
Fath. Fath.
Fath. Was euer Father so bemoan'd his Sonne?