This item is
Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported (CC BY-NC-SA 3.0)
Publicly Available
and licensed under:Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported (CC BY-NC-SA 3.0)
Files for this item
Download all local files for this item (152.92 KB)
- Name
- h5q-1234.txt
- Size
- 76.69 KB
- Format
- Text file
- Description
- Version of the work in plain text format
<T H5.Q><P A2>
<D {Enter King} Henry,} Exeter, 2. {Bishops,} Clarence, {and other
Attendants.}>
<S {Exeter.}>
Shall I call in Th[ ]ambassadors my Liege?
<S {King.}> Not yet my Cousin, til we be resolude
Of some serious matters touching vs and {France.}
<S {Bi.}> God and his Angels guard your sacred throne,
And make you long become it.
<S {King.}> Shure we thank you. And good my Lord proceed
Why the Lawe {Salicke} which they haue in {France},
Or should or should not, stop vs in our clayme:
And God forbid my wise and learned Lord,
That you should fashion, frame, or wrest the same.
For God doth know how many now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation,
Of what your reuerence shall incite vs too.
Therefore take heed how you impawne our person,
How you awake the sleeping sword of warre:
We charge you in the name of God take heed.
After this coniuration, speake my Lord:
And we will iudge, note, and beleeue in heart,
That what you speake, is washt as pure
As sin in baptisme. . . .
- Name
- oh5q-1234.txt
- Size
- 76.24 KB
- Format
- Text file
- Description
- Version of the work in plain text format
<H HEN06><A SHAKESPEARE><K PLAY><Y 1600>
<T TITLE>The Chronicle Historie
of {Henry} the fist: with his battel sought
at {Agin Court} in {France}. Togither with
Auncient {Pistoll}.
<T SDD>{Enter King}, Henry, Exeter, 2. {Bishops}, Clarence, {and other}
{Attendants.}
<T PROSE>{Exeter}.
Shall I call in Thambassadors my Liege?
<S {King}.> Not yet my Cousin, til we be resolvde
Of some serious matters touching us and {France}.
<S {Bi}.> God and his Angels guard your sacred throne,
And make you long become it.
<T VERSE><S {King}.> Shure we thank you. And good my Lord proceed
Why the Lawe {Salicke} which they have in {France},
Or should or should not, stop us in our clayme:
And God forbid my wise and learned Lord,
That yoush uld fashion, frame, or wrest the same.
For God doth know how many now in health,
Shall drop their blood in approbation,
Of what your reverence shall incite us too.
There . . .
