Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Scroope. Scroope.
Scroope. Men iudge by the complexion of the Skie
Scroope. The state and inclination of the day;
Scroope. So may you by my dull and heauie Eye:
Scroope. My Tongue hath but a heauier Tale to say:
Scroope. I play the Torturer, by small and small
Scroope. To lengthen out the worst, that must be spoken.
Scroope. Your Vnckle Yorke is ioyn'd with Bullingbrooke,
Scroope. And all your Northerne Castles yeelded vp,
Scroope. And all your Southerne Gentlemen in Armes
Scroope. Vpon his Faction.
Rich. Rich.
Rich. Thou hast said enough.
Rich. Beshrew thee Cousin, which didst lead me forth
Rich. Of that sweet way I was in, to despaire:
Rich. What say you now? What comfort haue we now?
Rich. By Heauen Ile hate him euerlastingly,
Rich. That bids me be of comfort any more.
Rich. Goe to Flint Castle, there Ile pine away,
Rich. A King, Woes slaue, shall Kingly Woe obey: