Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
North. But Priam found the Fire, ere he his Tongue:
North. And I, my Percies death, ere thou report'st it.
North. This, thou would'st say; Your Sonne did thus, and thus:
North. Your Brother, thus. So fought the Noble Dowglas,
North. Stopping my greedy care, with their bold deeds.
North. But in the end (to stop mine Eare indeed)
North. Thou hast a Sigh, to blow away this Praise,
North. Ending with Brother, Sonne, and all are dead.
Mor. Mor.
Mor. Dowglas is liuing, and your Brother, yet:
Mor. But for my Lord, your Sonne.
North. North.
North. Why he is dead.
North. See what a ready tongue Suspition hath:
North. He that but feares the thing, he would not know,
North. Hath by Instinct, knowledge from others Eyes,
North. That what he feard, is chanc'd. Yet speake (Morton)
North. Tell thou thy Earle, his Diuination Lies,
North. And I will take it, as a sweet Disgrace,
North. And make thee rich, for doing me such wrong.