Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cel. Cel.
Cel. Do I prethee, but yet haue the grace to consider,
Cel. that teares do not become a man.
Ros. Ros.
Ros. But haue I not cause to weepe?
Cel. As good cause as one would desire,
Cel. Therefore weepe.
Ros. His very haire
Ros. Is of the dissembling colour.
Cel. Something browner then Iudasses:
Cel. Marrie his kisses are Iudasses owne children.
Ros. I'faith his haire is of a good colour.
Cel. An excellent colour:
Cel. Your Chessenut was euer the onely colour: