Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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Cres. Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my tongue,
Cres. For in this rapture I shall surely speake
Cres. The thing I shall repent: see, see, your silence
Cres. Comming in dumbnesse, from my weakenesse drawes
Cres. My soule of counsell from me. Stop my mouth.
Troy. Troy.
Troy. And shall, albeit sweete Musicke issues thence.
Pan. Pan.
Pan. Pretty yfaith.
Cres. Cres.
Cres. My Lord, I doe beseech you pardon me,
Cres. 'Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kisse:
Cres. I am asham'd; O Heauens, what haue I done!
Cres. For this time will I take my leaue my Lord.
Troy. Your leaue sweete Cressid?
Pan. Leaue: and you take leaue till to morrow mor
Pan. ning.