Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Dor. But his red colour hath forsooke his cheekes.
King. King.
King. Is Clarence dead? The Order was reuerst.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. But he (poore man) by your first order dyed,
Rich. And that a winged Mercurie did beare:
Rich. Some tardie Cripple bare the Countermand,
Rich. That came too lagge to see him buried.
Rich. God grant, that some lesse Noble, and lesse Loyall,
Rich. Neerer in bloody thoughts, and not in blood,
Rich. Deserue not worse then wretched Clarence did,
Rich. And yet go currant from Suspition.
Rich. Enter Earle of Derby.
Der. Der.
Der. A boone my Soueraigne for my seruice done.
King. I prethee peace, my soule is full of sorrow.
Der. I will not rise, vnlesse your Highnes heare me.