| Original text | Modern text | Key line |
| It is too late, the life of all his blood | It is too late. The life of all his blood | KJ V.vii.1 |
| Is touch'd, corruptibly: and his pure braine | Is touched corruptibly, and his pure brain, | KJ V.vii.2 |
| (Which some suppose the soules fraile dwelling house) | Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house, | KJ V.vii.3 |
| Doth by the idle Comments that it makes, | Doth by the idle comments that it makes | KJ V.vii.4 |
| Fore-tell the ending of mortality. | Foretell the ending of mortality. | KJ V.vii.5 |
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| Let him be brought into the Orchard heere: | Let him be brought into the orchard here. | KJ V.vii.10 |
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| Doth he still rage? | Doth he still rage? | KJ V.vii.11.1 |
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| Oh vanity of sicknesse: fierce extreames | O vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes | KJ V.vii.13 |
| In their continuance, will not feele themselues. | In their continuance will not feel themselves. | KJ V.vii.14 |
| Death hauing praide vpon the outward parts | Death, having preyed upon the outward parts, | KJ V.vii.15 |
| Leaues them inuisible, and his seige is now | Leaves them invincible, and his siege is now | KJ V.vii.16 |
| Against the winde, the which he prickes and wounds | Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds | KJ V.vii.17 |
| With many legions of strange fantasies, | With many legions of strange fantasies, | KJ V.vii.18 |
| Which in their throng, and presse to that last hold, | Which, in their throng and press to that last hold, | KJ V.vii.19 |
| Counfound themselues. 'Tis strange yt death shold sing: | Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death should sing. | KJ V.vii.20 |
| I am the Symet to this pale faint Swan, | I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan | KJ V.vii.21 |
| Who chaunts a dolefull hymne to his owne death, | Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, | KJ V.vii.22 |
| And from the organ-pipe of frailety sings | And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings | KJ V.vii.23 |
| His soule and body to their lasting rest. | His soul and body to their lasting rest. | KJ V.vii.24 |
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| How fares your Maiesty? | How fares your majesty? | KJ V.vii.34.2 |
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| Oh that there were some vertue in my teares, | O that there were some virtue in my tears | KJ V.vii.44 |
| That might releeue you. | That might relieve you! | KJ V.vii.45.1 |
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| Euen so must I run on, and euen so stop. | Even so must I run on, and even so stop. | KJ V.vii.67 |
| What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, | What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, | KJ V.vii.68 |
| When this was now a King, and now is clay? | When this was now a king, and now is clay? | KJ V.vii.69 |
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| At Worster must his bodie be interr'd, | At Worcester must his body be interred, | KJ V.vii.99 |
| For so he will'd it. | For so he willed it. | KJ V.vii.100.1 |
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| I haue a kinde soule,that would giue thankes, | I have a kind soul that would give thanks, | KJ V.vii.108 |
| And knowes not how to do it, but with teares. | And knows not how to do it but with tears. | KJ V.vii.109 |