Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Bull. My selfe a Prince, by fortune of my birth,
Bull. Neere to the King in blood, and neere in loue,
Bull. Till you did make him mis‑interprete me,
Bull. Haue stoopt my neck vnder your iniuries,
Bull. And sigh'd my English breath in forraine Clouds,
Bull. Eating the bitter bread of banishment:
Bull. While you haue fed vpon my Seignories,
Bull. Dis‑park'd my Parkes, and fell'd my forrest Woods;
Bull. From mine owne Windowes torne my Household Coat,
Bull. Raz'd out my Impresse, leauing me no signe,
Bull. Saue mens opinions, and my liuing blood,
Bull. To shew the World I am a Gentleman.
Bull. This, and much more, much more then twice all this,
Bull. Condemnes you to the death: see them deliuered ouer
Bull. To execution, and the hand of death.
Bushie. Bushie.
Bushie. More welcome is the stroake of death to me,
Bushie. Then Bullingbrooke to England.
Greene. Greene.
Greene. My comfort is, that Heauen will take our soules,