Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Perd. Sir, welcome:
Perd. It is my Fathers will, I should take on mee
Perd. The Hostesseship o’th’day: you’re welcome sir.
Perd. Giue me those Flowres there (Dorcas.) Reuerend Sirs,
Perd. For you, there’s Rosemary, and Rue, these keepe
Perd. Seeming, and sauour all the Winter long:
Perd. Grace, and Remembrance be to you both,
Perd. And welcome to our Shearing.
Perd. Bb2
Perd. Pol.
Perd. The Winters Tale.
Pol. Pol.
Pol. Shepherdesse,
Pol. (A faire one are you:) well you fit our ages
Pol. With flowres of Winter.
Perd. Perd.
Perd. Sir, the yeare growing ancient,
Perd. Not yet on summers death, nor on the birth
Perd. Of trembling winter, the fayrest flowres o’th season
Perd. Are our Carnations, and streak’d Gilly‑vors,