Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Rich. To lift shrewd Steele against our Golden Crowne,
Rich. Heauen for his Richard hath in heauenly pay
Rich. A glorious Angell: then if Angels fight,
Rich. Weake men must fall, for Heauen still guards the right.
Rich. Enter Salisbury.
Rich. Welcome my Lord, how farre off lyes your Power?
Salisb. Salisb.
Salisb. Nor neere, nor farther off, my gracious Lord,
Salisb. Then this weake arme; discomfort guides my tongue,
Salisb. And bids me speake of nothing but despaire:
Salisb. One day too late, I feare (my Noble Lord)
Salisb. Hath clouded all thy happie dayes on Earth:
Salisb. Oh call backe Yesterday, bid Time returne,
Salisb. And thou shalt haue twelue thousand fighting men:
Salisb. To day, to day, vnhappie day too late
Salisb. Orethrowes thy Ioyes, Friends, Fortune, and thy State;
Salisb. For all the Welchmen hearing thou wert dead,
Salisb. Are gone to Bullingbrooke, disperst, and fled.
Aum. Aum.
Aum. Comfort my Liege, why lookes your Grace so