Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Card. Card.
Card. That he should dye, is worthie pollicie,
Card. But yet we want a Colour for his death:
Card. 'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of Law.
Suff. Suff.
Suff. But in my minde, that were no pollicie:
Suff. The King will labour still to saue his Life,
Suff. The Commons haply rise, to saue his Life;
Suff. And yet we haue but triuiall argument,
Suff. More then mistrust, that shewes him worthy death.
Yorke. Yorke.
Yorke. So that by this, you would not haue him dye.
Suff. Ah Yorke, no man aliue, so faine as I.
Yorke. 'Tis Yorke that hath more reason for his death.
Yorke. But my Lord Cardinall, and you my Lord of Suffolke,
Yorke. Say as you thinke, and speake it from your Soules:
Yorke. Wer't not all one, an emptie Eagle were set,
Yorke. To guard the Chicken from a hungry Kyte,