Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Qu. Omitting Suffolkes exile, my soules Treasure?
Qu. Why onely Suffolke mourne I not for thee?
Qu. And with the Southerne clouds, contend in teares?
Qu. Theirs for the earths encrease, mine for my sorrowes.
Qu. Now get thee hence, the King thou know'st is comming,
Qu. If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.
Suf. Suf.
Suf. If I depart from thee, I cannot liue,
Suf. And in thy fight to dye, what were it else,
Suf. But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?
Suf. Heere could I breath my soule into the ayre,
Suf. As milde and gentle as the Cradle‑babe,
Suf. Dying with mothers dugge betweene it's lips.
Suf. Where from thy fight, I should be raging mad,
Suf. And cry out for thee to close vp mine eyes:
Suf. To haue thee with thy lippes to stop my mouth:
Suf. So should'st thou eyther turne my flying soule,
Suf. Or I should breathe it so into thy body,
Suf. And then it liu'd in sweete Elizium.
Suf. To dye by thee, were but to dye in iest,